By the time the militia besieging the Bastille came to their senses, the defenders of the Bastille had, however, recovered. The big explosion just now scared them. But also because of this, they counterattacked even more vigorously. As a result, the militia side has added many more casualties in the time since.
Just then, there was a cheer from the back of the militia side.
"The artillery is coming! The real artillery is coming!"
It turned out that at this time, the group of National Guard troops that the Marquis de La Fayette had prepared had finally arrived.
The arrival of this group of National Guard changed the situation completely. The large explosion just now, while causing significant casualties to the militia, also caused considerable damage to the walls of the Bastille. It was feared that the wall, which was not much stronger in the first place, would be even less able to hold back the shells.
But de Launay didn't panic too much when the National Guard men hauled the cannon over. For what level of artillery the militia had, he had just seen - at such a distance, they could hit nothing but the ground.
But as soon as the artillery there opened fire, de Launay knew he was in trouble, for the first shell hit the base of the wall with precision.
As the shells hit the walls, a puff of dust rose from the walls, but luckily, the walls had not yet collapsed.
"Really hit it? They got lucky?" De Launay's eyes widened.
Yes, to this day, de Launay continues to attribute this successful shelling by the National Guard to luck. But soon, he changed his mind, for the cannon opposite, fired another shot quickly and hit again. The shot also caused the bravado to crumble a small piece sparsely.
"Quick, raise the white flag! We surrender!" De Launay shouted. Obviously, those who are now firing at them are not the so-called "militia", and those who are able to fire again in such a short period of time and with such accuracy are not a militia but are properly trained artillerymen!
The state of the walls today could not withstand a few more shellings. That, de Launay only had to look at the crack that ran the length of the wall that could fit a fist. With a few more shellings, the walls will surely collapse, and then the tens of thousands of "mobs" outside will rush in, which can't be stopped by the hundred or so people inside. If they didn't surrender before they rushed in, it was only to be feared that everyone would be dead by then.
So the white flag was hoisted, the gates were opened, and the soldiers all threw their rifles down from the walls. A cheer went up from the militia around them.
The militia rushed through the open gate, took out the negotiators (who, in fact, had not been persecuted at all), and dragged out the "king's lackeys". They tied them all up and prepared to take them to the town hall for trial.
But the group escorting them had only managed to go a few hundred meters before more people gathered around. The men loudly cursed the "tyrant's dogs", including de Launay. One of the cooks was particularly vicious.
De Launay had never been abused by such a pariah before, so he also cursed back in a broken voice.
"You damned pariah, lowly worm, how dare you speak so out of turn to a noble! One day, you thugs, all of you, will be punished! His Majesty the King will hang you all from a streetlight pole like a dog!"
De Launay had apparently forgotten what kind of situation he was in nowadays; he had thought that as a nobleman, he would favorably be treated even if he was captured. His words immediately angered the surrounding "untouchables", and the cook even pulled out his kitchen knife.
"You fucking parasite!" That chef roared, "You've killed so many people, and you want to continue to ride over the heads of the people? You want to keep killing people? Want to hang us from a streetlight? I'll hang your head first today!"
After saying that, the cook lunged with his knife raised. De Launay's hands were bound, and he was unable to resist. And while dodging, he asked for help from the militiamen who were escorting him next to him. But the militiamen paid no attention at all and instead stepped back so that they could make room for that cook to work.
The cook grabbed de Launay's hair and pulled him down hard to the floor.
"You can't do that, I am a nobleman, I ... am," cried de Launay. But his voice stopped at once, for the cook stamped on his chest with one foot so that he could not breathe.
"Save ..."
"Kill the bad thing!"
"Kill him!"
There was a roar of anger around them.
That chef grabbed de Launay's hair with one hand and raised his kitchen knife with the other ...
Apparently, the cook had good knife skills, and although he was holding only a small knife, he quickly cut off de Launay's head. A militiaman with a spear came over and said, "Stick his head on a spear and show everyone what happens to a tyrant's lackey!"
Everyone listened all over and shouted together. This militiaman then stuck de Launay's head on his own spear and held it aloft ...
"Let's go around the city of Paris a couple more times and show everyone what happens to the tyrant's lackeys!" The people shouted.
"And these fellows, just as much the tyrant's lackeys, can't be spared!" Someone shouted again, pointing to the other captives.
In the original history, after the Bastille was captured, the surrendered defenders were not killed except for the governor, de Launay, who was killed. But this time, because of that botched blast, the militia suffered far greater casualties than in history, with over three hundred killed in the big explosion alone, compared to just over a hundred dead or wounded in the original history.
Greater casualties brought more fear, anger, and rage. So dozens more captured soldiers were killed, most of them Swiss working as mercenaries because everyone believed that they had come to Paris to slaughter and pillage the people of Paris.
The heads of these Swiss were also cut off on the spot and stuck on spears.
Ernest Juran, former artillery second lieutenant and now commander of the National Guard's artillery company, watched all this coldly, neither participating nor stopping it.
"There's another guy who deserves to die too!" Another shouted.
"Who?" People asked.
"Flesselles! He gave us false information. He said there's a lot of gunpowder at the Bastille. Yet it's amazing how little gunpowder there is at Bastille! He must be the King's lackey, and he must be up to something when he draws us to the Bastille!" Someone shouted.
"Then let's go kill him!" More people shouted.
"He also told us last time that there were tons of weapons over on Rue de Richelieu, and there turned out to be nothing there either. There must be something wrong with him!"
"Kill him, kill him!"
Flesselles is the mayor of Paris. A nobleman by birth, some say he was close to the Count of Artois (brother of Louis XVI and one of the ultra-conservatives). Of course, there is no basis for this rumor. It's just that, at this point in time, everyone is inclined to believe the rumor.
Ernest Juran and the others continued to watch from the sidelines with cold eyes. Anyway, Flesselles was not a friend of the Marquis de La Fayette, and such a person controlling the Paris City Hall was not seen as a good thing - at least not for the Marquis de La Fayette, who was preparing to consolidate his power in Paris.
...
"What are these people doing?" Lucien stared in amazement at the militiamen who marched outside the barricade with their spears held high. On the spears in their hands, they all wore a single head.
"They're venting their fear with terror." Joseph said to Lucien as he covered Louis' eyes with one hand to keep him from looking at the horrible things.
"Taking out your fears with terror?" Lucien didn't understand what Joseph meant.
"Lucien, think about it. Where did those recent scary rumors most likely come from? Did they really come from sans-culottes who can't even write their own name?" Instead of answering, Joseph asked this.
"How is this possible?" Lucian shook his head, "Those rumors are alive and well and involve a lot of things that simply aren't known to sans-culottes. There are many that could only even be made up by someone who is very familiar with the various insiders."
"And look at the rumors, what are these rumors talking about? What kind of emotions are all spreading?" Joseph asked again.
"Nothing more than that the king is coming with mercenaries to blood Paris or something." Lucien shook his head, "It's a terrible thing to say, but Paris is such an important place for France, and bloodshed in Paris? That's just scaremongering. What is France in Europe without Paris?"
"But those sans-culottes doesn't know that. They all thought it was real. Their hearts were filled with fear and anger. They were afraid of being massacred and plundered, and they were at the same time enraged that they innocently had to suffer such a fate." Joseph says, "This fear and anger then gave them the power to act. Some people feel they can guide, control such a force and can utilize it for their purposes. Hehe ..."
"What are you laughing at?" Lucien asked.
"I laugh at some people who are playing with fire."
Joseph said, "Using rumors, making people fearful, and then using that fear to drive others, though cost-wise, is very inexpensive indeed. But the forces generated by fear and anger are irrational forces. Irrational force is difficult to control; it's like Mr. Lavoisier's nitroglycerine; one slip, no control, and boom, you can blow yourself to pieces."
"So what do we do?" Lucien asked.
"To see more, to think more." Joseph replied.