At half past four o'clock in the afternoon three carts laden with straw were sent forward and used to set fire to the outbuildings, the guard-house, the Governor's residence and the kitchens. A number of French grenadiers with three hundred citizens now advanced and made good their entrance; but the drawbridge was let down behind them and a cry of treachery arose. Fire was opened on both sides and a sharp combat ensued. The issue might have been different had the defence been better organised, but the garrison was small (barely a hundred men), was short of ammunition, had not taken food for forty-eight hours, and could make no use of the artillery. At five o'clock M. de Launay, hopeless of success, desired to blow up the powder magazine, urging that voluntary death was preferable to massacre by the infuriated people. The vote of the majority was against this desperate means and in favor of capitulation. Accordingly a white flag was hoisted on one of the towers to the sound of the drum, but it was ignored, and the firing continued amid loud shouts of "Lower the drawbridge! Nothing will happen to you!" The Governor thereupon handed over the keys to a subordinate officer. The mob rushed in and the fate of the garrison was sealed. The sub-officers, who had laid down their arms and were unable to defend themselves, were killed, and so also were the grand old Swiss Guards, stalwart veterans, who were slaughtered with but few exceptions.
In the midst of the affray, M. de Launay was seized and carried off to the Hotel de Ville. Frenzied cries of "Hang him! Hang him!" greeted him on the way, and the unfortunate Governor is reported to have looked up to Heaven, saying, "Kill me. I prefer death to insults I have not deserved." They now fell upon him from all sides with bayonet, musket and pike, and as a dragoon passed, he was called upon to cut off the victim's head. This man, Denot (whose own account has been followed in this description), essayed first with a sword, then completed the decapitation with his knife. The severed head was paraded through Paris till nightfall on a pike. This was the first of many similar atrocities. The people, without restraint, became intoxicated with brutal exultation. The wildest orgies took place, and the wine shops were crowded with drunken desperadoes, who were the heroes of the hour. The now defenceless castle was visited by thousands to witness its final destruction. Numbers of carriages passed before it or halted to watch the demolition as the stones were thrown down from its towers amid clouds of dust. Ladies, fashionably dressed, and dandies of the first water mingled with the half-naked workmen, and were now jeered at, now applauded. The most prominent personages, great authors and orators, celebrated painters, popular actors and actresses, nobles, courtiers and ambassadors assembled to view the scene of old France expiring and new France in the throes of birth.