MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF

MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE

Being the Historic Memoirs of Madam Campan, First Lady in Waiting to the Queen. 

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONSDuchesse du Barry

Princesse de Lamballe

The Parisian Bonne

Louis XVI. And Marie Antoinette

Beaumarchais

The Reveille

Madame Adelaide as Diana

The Bastille

Opening of The States General

Louis XVI. 

Marie Antoinette on the way to the Guillotine

Madame Campan

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR. 

Louis XVI. Possessed an immense crowd of confidants, advisers, and guides;he selected them even from among the factions which attacked him. Never, perhaps, did he make a full disclosure to any one of them, and certainlyhe spoke with sincerity, to but very few. He invariably kept the reins ofall secret intrigues in his own hand; and thence, doubtless, arose thewant of cooperation and the weakness which were so conspicuous in hismeasures. From these causes considerable chasms will be found in thedetailed history of the Revolution. 

In order to become thoroughly acquainted with the latter years of thereign of Louis XV. , memoirs written by the Duc de Choiseul, the Ducd'Aiguillon, the Marechal de Richelieu, and the Duc de La Vauguyon, should be before us. 

[I heard Le Marechal de Richelieu desire M. Campan, who was librarian tothe Queen, not to buy the Memoirs which would certainly be attributed tohim after his death, declaring them false by anticipation; and adding thathe was ignorant of orthography, and had never amused himself with writing. Shortly after the death of the Marshal, one Soulavie put forth Memoirs ofthe Marechal de Richelieu. ]

To give us a faithful portrait of the unfortunate reign of Louis XVI. , the Marechal du Muy, M. De Maurepas, M. De Vergennes, M. De Malesherbes, the Duc d'Orleans, M. De La Fayette, the Abby de Vermond, the AbbeMontesquiou, Mirabeau, the Duchesse de Polignac, and the Duchesse deLuynes should have noted faithfully in writing all the transactions inwhich they took decided parts. The secret political history of a laterperiod has been disseminated among a much greater number of persons;there are Ministers who have published memoirs, but only when they hadtheir own measures to justify, and then they confined themselves to thevindication of their own characters, without which powerful motive theyprobably would have written nothing. In general, those nearest to theSovereign, either by birth or by office, have left no memoirs; and inabsolute monarchies the mainsprings of great events will be found inparticulars which the most exalted persons alone could know. Those whohave had but little under their charge find no subject in it for a book;and those who have long borne the burden of public business conceivethemselves to be forbidden by duty, or by respect for authority, todisclose all they know. Others, again, preserve notes, with theintention of reducing them to order when they shall have reached theperiod of a happy leisure; vain illusion of the ambitious, which theycherish, for the most part, but as a veil to conceal from their sightthe hateful image of their inevitable downfall! and when it does atlength take place, despair or chagrin deprives them of fortitude todwell upon the dazzling period which they never cease to regret. 

Louis XVI. Meant to write his own memoirs; the manner in which hisprivate papers were arranged indicated this design. The Queen also hadthe same intention; she long preserved a large correspondence, and a greatnumber of minute reports, made in the spirit and upon the event of themoment. But after the 20th of June, 1792, she was obliged to burn thelarger portion of what she had so collected, and the remainder wereconveyed out of France. 

Considering the rank and situations of the persons I have named as capableof elucidating by their writings the history of our political storms, itwill not be imagined that I aim at placing myself on a level with them;but I have spent half my life either with the daughters of Louis XV. Orwith Marie Antoinette. I knew the characters of those Princesses; Ibecame privy to some extraordinary facts, the publication of which may beinteresting, and the truth of the details will form the merit of my work. 

I was very young when I was placed about the Princesses, the daughters ofLouis XV. , in the capacity of reader. I was acquainted with the Court ofVersailles before the time of the marriage of Louis XVI. With theArchduchess Marie Antoinette. 

MADAME CAMPAN

My father, who was employed in the department of Foreign Affairs, enjoyedthe reputation due to his talents and to his useful labours. He hadtravelled much. Frenchmen, on their return home from foreign countries, bring with them a love for their own, increased in warmth; and no man wasmore penetrated with this feeling, which ought to be the first virtue ofevery placeman, than my father. Men of high title, academicians, andlearned men, both natives and foreigners, sought my father's acquaintance, and were gratified by being admitted into his house. 

Twenty years before the Revolution I often heard it remarked that theimposing character of the power of Louis XIV. Was no longer to be found inthe Palace of Versailles; that the institutions of the ancient monarchywere rapidly sinking; and that the people, crushed beneath the weight oftaxes, were miserable, though silent; but that they began to give ear tothe bold speeches of the philosophers, who loudly proclaimed theirsufferings and their rights; and, in short, that the age would not passaway without the occurrence of some great outburst, which would unsettleFrance, and change the course of its progress. 

Those who thus spoke were almost all partisans of M. Turgot's system ofadministration: they were Mirabeau the father, Doctor Quesnay, AbbeBandeau, and Abbe Nicoli, charge d'affaires to Leopold, Grand Duke ofTuscany, and as enthusiastic an admirer of the maxims of the innovators ashis Sovereign. 

My father sincerely respected the purity of intention of thesepoliticians. With them he acknowledged many abuses in the Government; buthe did not give these political sectarians credit for the talent necessaryfor conducting a judicious reform. He told them frankly that in the artof moving the great machine of Government, the wisest of them was inferiorto a good magistrate; and that if ever the helm of affairs should be putinto their hands, they would be speedily checked in the execution of theirschemes by the immeasurable difference existing between the most brillianttheories and the simplest practice of administration. 

Destiny having formerly placed me near crowned heads, I now amuse mysolitude when in retirement with collecting a variety of facts which mayprove interesting to my family when I shall be no more. The idea ofcollecting all the interesting materials which my memory affords occurredto me from reading the work entitled "Paris, Versailles, and the Provincesin the Eighteenth Century. " That work, composed by a man accustomed tothe best society, is full of piquant anecdotes, nearly all of which havebeen recognised as true by the contemporaries of the author. I have puttogether all that concerned the domestic life of an unfortunate Princess, whose reputation is not yet cleared of the stains it received from theattacks of calumny, and who justly merited a different lot in life, adifferent place in the opinion of mankind after her fall. These memoirs, which were finished ten years ago, have met with the approbation of somepersons; and my son may, perhaps, think proper to print them after mydecease. 

J. L. H. C. 

--When Madame Campan wrote these lines, she did not anticipate that thedeath of her son would precede her own. 

HISTORIC COURT MEMOIRS. 

MARIE ANTOINETTE. 

MEMOIR OF MADAME CAMPAN. 

JEANNE LOUISE HENRIETTE GENET was born in Paris on the 6th of October, 1752. M. Genet, her father, had obtained, through his own merit and theinfluence of the Duc de Choiseul, the place of first clerk in the ForeignOffice. 

Literature, which he had cultivated in his youth, was often the solace ofhis leisure hours. Surrounded by a numerous family, he made theinstruction of his children his chief recreation, and omitted nothingwhich was necessary to render them highly accomplished. His clever andprecocious daughter Henriette was very early accustomed to enter society, and to take an intelligent interest in current topics and public events. Accordingly, many of her relations being connected with the Court orholding official positions, she amassed a fund of interestingrecollections and characteristic anecdotes, some gathered from personalexperience, others handed down by old friends of the family. 

"The first event which made any impression on me in my childhood, " shesays in her reminiscences, "was the attempt of Damiens to assassinateLouis XV. This occurrence struck me so forcibly that the most minutedetails relating to the confusion and grief which prevailed at Versailleson that day seem as present to my imagination as the most recent events. Ihad dined with my father and mother, in company with one of their friends. The drawing-room was lighted up with a number of candles, and fourcard-tables were already occupied, when a friend of the gentleman of thehouse came in, with a pale and terrified countenance, and said, in a voicescarcely audible, 'I bring you terrible news. The King has beenassassinated!' Two ladies in the company fainted; a brigadier of the BodyGuards threw down his cards and cried out, 'I do not wonder at it; it isthose rascally Jesuits. '--'What are you saying, brother?' cried a lady, flying to him; 'would you get yourself arrested?'--'Arrested! For what?For unmasking those wretches who want a bigot for a King?' My father camein; he recommended circumspection, saying that the blow was not mortal, and that all meetings ought to be suspended at so critical a moment. Hehad brought the chaise for my mother, who placed me on her knees. Welived in the Avenue de Paris, and throughout our drive I heard incessantcries and sobs from the footpaths. 

"At last I saw a man arrested; he was an usher of the King's chamber, whohad gone mad, and was crying out, 'Yes, I know them; the wretches! thevillains!' Our chaise was stopped by this bustle. My mother recognisedthe unfortunate man who had been seized; she gave his name to the trooperwho had stopped him. The poor usher was therefore merely conducted to thegens d'armes' guardroom, which was then in the avenue. 

"I have often heard M. De Landsmath, equerry and master of the hounds, whoused to come frequently to my father's, say that on the news of theattempt on the King's life he instantly repaired to his Majesty. I cannotrepeat the coarse expressions he made use of to encourage his Majesty; buthis account of the affair, long afterwards, amused the parties in which hewas prevailed on to relate it, when all apprehensions respecting theconsequences of the event had subsided. This M. De Landsmath was an oldsoldier, who had given proofs of extraordinary valour; nothing had beenable to soften his manners or subdue his excessive bluntness to therespectful customs of the Court. The King was very fond of him. Hepossessed prodigious strength, and had often contended with Marechal Saxe, renowned for his great bodily power, in trying the strength of theirrespective wrists. 

[One day when the King was hunting in the forest of St. Germain, Landemath, riding before him, wanted a cart, filled with the slime of apond that had just been cleansed, to draw up out of the way. The carterresisted, and even answered with impertinence. Landsmath, withoutdismounting, seized him by the breast of his coat, lifted him up, andthrew him into his cart. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

"M. De Landsmath had a thundering voice. When he came into the King'sapartment he found the Dauphin and Mesdames, his Majesty's daughters, there; the Princesses, in tears, surrounded the King's bed. Send out allthese weeping women, Sire, ' said the old equerry; 'I want to speak to youalone: The King made a sign to the Princesses to withdraw. 'Come, ' saidLandsmath, 'your wound is nothing; you had plenty of waistcoats andflannels on. ' Then uncovering his breast, 'Look here, ' said he, showingfour or five great scars, 'these are something like wounds; I receivedthem thirty years ago; now cough as loud as you can. ' The King did so. ''Tis nothing at all, ' said Landsmath; 'you must laugh at it; we shallhunt a stag together in four days. '--'But suppose the blade was poisoned, 'said the King. 'Old grandams' tales, ' replied Landsmath; 'if it had beenso, the waistcoats and flannels would have rubbed the poison off. ' TheKing was pacified, and passed a very good night. 

"His Majesty one day asked M. De Landsmath how old he was. He was aged, and by no means fond of thinking of his age; he evaded the question. Afortnight later, Louis XV. Took a paper out of his pocket and read aloud:'On such a day in the month of one thousand six hundred and eighty, wasbaptised by me, rector of ------, the son of the high and mighty lord, 'etc. 'What's that?' said Landsmath, angrily; 'has your Majesty beenprocuring the certificate of my baptism?'--'There it is, you see, Landsmath, ' said the King. 'Well, Sire, hide it as fast as you can; aprince entrusted with the happiness of twenty-five millions of peopleought not wilfully to hurt the feelings of a single individual. '

"The King learned that Landsmath had lost his confessor, a missionarypriest of the parish of Notre-Dame. It was the custom of the Lazarists toexpose their dead with the face uncovered. Louis XV. Wished to try hisequerry's firmness. 'You have lost your confessor, I hear, ' said theKing. 'Yes, Sire. '--'He will be exposed with his face bare?'--'Such isthe custom. '--'I command you to go and see him. '--'Sire, my confessor wasmy friend; it would be very painful to me. '--'No matter; I commandyou. '--'Are you really in earnest, Sire?'--'Quite so. '--'It would be thefirst time in my life that I had disobeyed my sovereign's order. I willgo. ' The next day the King at his levee, as soon as he perceivedLandsmath, said, 'Have you done as I desired you, Landsmath?'--'Undoubtedly, Sire. '--'Well, what did you see?'--'Faith, Isaw that your Majesty and I are no great shakes!'

"At the death of Queen Maria Leczinska, M. Campan, --[Her father-in-law, afterwards secretary to Marie Antoinette. ]--then an officer of thechamber, having performed several confidential duties, the King askedMadame Adelaide how he should reward him. She requested him to create anoffice in his household of master of the wardrobe, with a salary of athousand crowns. 'I will do so, ' said the King; 'it will be an honourabletitle; but tell Campan not to add a single crown to his expenses, for youwill see they will never pay him. '

"Louis XV. , by his dignified carriage, and the amiable yet majesticexpression of his features, was worthy to succeed to Louis the Great. Buthe too frequently indulged in secret pleasures, which at last were sure tobecome known. During several winters, he was passionately fond of'candles' end balls', as he called those parties amongst the very lowestclasses of society. He got intelligence of the picnics given by thetradesmen, milliners, and sempstresses of Versailles, whither he repairedin a black domino, and masked, accompanied by the captain of his Guards, masked like himself. His great delight was to go 'en brouette'--[In akind of sedan-chair, running on two wheels, and drawn by achairman. ]--Care was always taken to give notice to five or six officersof the King's or Queen's chamber to be there, in order that his Majestymight be surrounded by people on whom he could depend, without finding ittroublesome. Probably the captain of the Guards also took otherprecautions of this description on his part. My father-in-law, when theKing and he were both young, has often made one amongst the servantsdesired to attend masked at these parties, assembled in some garret, orparlour of a public-house. In those times, during the carnival, maskedcompanies had a right to join the citizens' balls; it was sufficient thatone of the party should unmask and name himself. 

"These secret excursions, and his too habitual intercourse with ladiesmore distinguished for their personal charms than for the advantages ofeducation, were no doubt the means by which the King acquired many vulgarexpressions which otherwise would never have reached his ears. 

"Yet amidst the most shameful excesses the King sometimes suddenly resumedthe dignity of his rank in a very noble manner. The familiar courtiers ofLouis XV. Had one day abandoned themselves to the unrestrained gaiety, ofa supper, after returning from the chase. Each boasted of and describedthe beauty of his mistress. Some of them amused themselves with giving aparticular account of their wives' personal defects. An imprudent word, addressed to Louis XV. , and applicable only to the Queen, instantlydispelled all the mirth of the entertainment. The King assumed his regalair, and knocking with his knife on the table twice or thrice, 'Gentlemen;said he, 'here is the King!'

"Those men who are most completely abandoned to dissolute manners are not, on that account, insensible to virtue in women. The Comtesse de Perigordwas as beautiful as virtuous. During some excursions she made to Choisy, whither she had been invited, she perceived that the King took greatnotice of her. Her demeanour of chilling respect, her cautiousperseverance in shunning all serious conversation with the monarch, wereinsufficient to extinguish this rising flame, and he at length addressed aletter to her, worded in the most passionate terms. This excellent womaninstantly formed her resolution: honour forbade her returning the King'spassion, whilst her profound respect for the sovereign made her unwillingto disturb his tranquillity. She therefore voluntarily banished herselfto an estate she possessed called Chalais, near Barbezieux, the mansion ofwhich had been uninhabited nearly a century; the porter's lodge was theonly place in a condition to receive her. From this seat she wrote to hisMajesty, explaining her motives for leaving Court; and she remained thereseveral years without visiting Paris. Louis XV. Was speedily attracted byother objects, and regained the composure to which Madame de Perigord hadthought it her duty to sacrifice so much. Some years after, Mesdames'lady of honour died. Many great families solicited the place. The King, without answering any of their applications, wrote to the Comtesse dePerigord: 'My daughters have just lost their lady of honour; this place, madame, is your due, as much on account of your personal qualities as ofthe illustrious name of your family. '

"Three young men of the college of St. Germain, who had just completedtheir course of studies, knowing no person about the Court, and havingheard that strangers were always well treated there, resolved to dressthemselves completely in the Armenian costume, and, thus clad, to presentthemselves to see the grand ceremony of the reception of several knightsof the Order of the Holy Ghost. Their stratagem met with all the successwith which they had flattered themselves. While the procession waspassing through the long mirror gallery, the Swiss of the apartmentsplaced them in the first row of spectators, recommending every one to payall possible attention to the strangers. The latter, however, wereimprudent enough to enter the 'oeil-de-boeuf' chamber, where, wereMessieurs Cardonne and Ruffin, interpreters of Oriental languages, and thefirst clerk of the consul's department, whose business it was to attend toeverything which related to the natives of the East who were in France. The three scholars were immediately surrounded and questioned by thesegentlemen, at first in modern Greek. Without being disconcerted, theymade signs that they did not understand it. They were then addressed inTurkish and Arabic; at length one of the interpreters, losing allpatience, exclaimed, 'Gentlemen, you certainly must understand some of thelanguages in which you have been addressed. What country can you possiblycome from then?'--'From St. Germain-en-Laye, sir, ' replied the boldestamong them; 'this is the first time you have put the question to us inFrench. ' They then confessed the motive of their disguise; the eldest ofthem was not more than eighteen years of age. Louis XV. Was informed ofthe affair. He laughed heartily, ordered them a few hours' confinementand a good admonition, after which they were to be set at liberty. 

"Louis XV. Liked to talk about death, though he was extremely apprehensiveof it; but his excellent health and his royal dignity probably made himimagine himself invulnerable. He often said to people who had very badcolds, 'You've a churchyard cough there. ' Hunting one day in the forestof Senard, in a year in which bread was extremely dear, he met a man onhorseback carrying a coffin. 'Whither are you carrying that coffin?'--'Tothe village of ------, ' answered the peasant. 'Is it for a man or awoman?'--'For a man. '--'What did he die of?'--'Of hunger, ' bluntly repliedthe villager. The King spurred on his horse, and asked no more questions. 

"Weak as Louis XV. Was, the Parliaments would never have obtained hisconsent to the convocation of the States General. I heard an anecdote onthis subject from two officers attached to that Prince's household. Itwas at the period when the remonstrances of the Parliaments, and therefusals to register the decrees for levying taxes, produced alarm withrespect to the state of the finances. This became the subject ofconversation one evening at the coucher of Louis XV. 'You will see, Sire, ' said a courtier, whose office placed him in close communicationwith the King, 'that all this will make it absolutely necessary toassemble the States General!'

"The King, roused by this speech from the habitual apathy of hischaracter, seized the courtier by the arm, and said to him, in a passion, 'Never repeat, these words. I am not sanguinary; but had I a brother, andwere he to dare to give me such advice, I would sacrifice him, withintwenty-four hours, to the duration of the monarchy and the tranquillity ofthe kingdom. '

"Several years prior to his death the Dauphin, the father of Louis XVI. , had confluent smallpox, which endangered his life; and after hisconvalescence he was long troubled with a malignant ulcer under the nose. He was injudiciously advised to get rid of it by the use of extract oflead, which proved effectual; but from that time the Dauphin, who wascorpulent, insensibly grew thin, and a short, dry cough evinced that thehumour, driven in, had fallen on the lungs. Some persons also suspectedhim of having taken acids in too great a quantity for the purpose ofreducing his bulk. The state of his health was not, however, such as toexcite alarm. At the camp at Compiegne, in July, 1764, the Dauphinreviewed the troops, and evinced much activity in the performance of hisduties; it was even observed that he was seeking to gain the attachment ofthe army. He presented the Dauphiness to the soldiers, saying, with asimplicity which at that time made a great sensation, 'Mes enfans, here ismy wife. ' Returning late on horseback to Compiegne, he found he had takena chill; the heat of the day had been excessive; the Prince's clothes hadbeen wet with perspiration. An illness followed, in which the Princebegan to spit blood. His principal physician wished to have him bled; theconsulting physicians insisted on purgation, and their advice wasfollowed. The pleurisy, being ill cured, assumed and retained all thesymptoms of consumption; the Dauphin languished from that period untilDecember, 1765, and died at Fontainebleau, where the Court, on account ofhis condition, had prolonged its stay, which usually ended on the 2d ofNovember. 

"The Dauphiness, his widow, was deeply afflicted; but the immoderatedespair which characterised her grief induced many to suspect that theloss of the crown was an important part of the calamity she lamented. Shelong refused to eat enough to support life; she encouraged her tears toflow by placing portraits of the Dauphin in every retired part of herapartments. She had him represented pale, and ready to expire, in apicture placed at the foot of her bed, under draperies of gray cloth, withwhich the chambers of the Princesses were always hung in court mournings. Their grand cabinet was hung with black cloth, with an alcove, a canopy, and a throne, on which they received compliments of condolence after thefirst period of the deep mourning. The Dauphiness, some months before theend of her career, regretted her conduct in abridging it; but it was toolate; the fatal blow had been struck. It may also be presumed that livingwith a consumptive, man had contributed to her complaint. This Princesshad no opportunity of displaying her qualities; living in a Court in whichshe was eclipsed by the King and Queen, the only characteristics thatcould be remarked in her were her extreme attachment to her husband, andher great piety. 

"The Dauphin was little known, and his character has been much mistaken. He himself, as he confessed to his intimate friends, sought to disguiseit. He one day asked one of his most familiar servants, 'What do they sayin Paris of that great fool of a Dauphin?' The person interrogated seemingconfused, the Dauphin urged him to express himself sincerely, saying, 'Speak freely; that is positively the idea which I wish people to form ofme. '

"As he died of a disease which allows the last moment to be anticipatedlong beforehand, he wrote much, and transmitted his affections and hisprejudices to his son by secret notes. 

"Madame de Pompadour's brother received Letters of Nobility from hisMajesty, and was appointed superintendent of the buildings and gardens. Heoften presented to her Majesty, through the medium of his sister, therarest flowers, pineapples, and early vegetables from the gardens ofTrianon and Choisy. One day, when the Marquise came into the Queen'sapartments, carrying a large basket of flowers, which she held in her twobeautiful arms, without gloves, as a mark of respect, the Queen loudlydeclared her admiration of her beauty; and seemed as if she wished todefend the King's choice, by praising her various charms in detail, in amanner that would have been as suitable to a production of the fine artsas to a living being. After applauding the complexion, eyes, and finearms of the favourite, with that haughty condescension which rendersapprobation more offensive than flattering, the Queen at length requestedher to sing, in the attitude in which she stood, being desirous of hearingthe voice and musical talent by which the King's Court had been charmed inthe performances of the private apartments, and thus combining thegratification of the ears with that of the eyes. The Marquise, who stillheld her enormous basket, was perfectly sensible of something offensive inthis request, and tried to excuse herself from singing. The Queen at lastcommanded her; she then exerted her fine voice in the solo of Armida--'Atlength he is in my power. ' The change in her Majesty's countenance was soobvious that the ladies present at this scene had the greatest difficultyto keep theirs. 

"The Queen was affable and modest; but the more she was thankful in herheart to Heaven for having placed her on the first throne in Europe, themore unwilling she was to be reminded of her elevation. This sentimentinduced her to insist on the observation of all the forms of respect dueto royal birth; whereas in other princes the consciousness of that birthoften induces them to disdain the ceremonies of etiquette, and to preferhabits of ease and simplicity. There was a striking contrast in thisrespect between Maria Leczinska and Marie Antoinette, as has been justlyand generally observed. The latter unfortunate Queen, perhaps, carriedher disregard of everything belonging to the strict forms of etiquette toofar. One day, when the Marechale de Mouchy was teasing her with questionsrelative to the extent to which she would allow the ladies the option oftaking off or wearing their cloaks, and of pinning up the lappets of theircaps, or letting them hang down, the Queen replied to her, in my presence:'Arrange all those matters, madame, just as you please; but do not imaginethat a queen, born Archduchess of Austria, can attach that importance tothem which might be felt by a Polish princess who had become Queen ofFrance. '

"The virtues and information of the great are always evinced by theirconduct; their accomplishments, coming within the scope of flattery, aredifficult to be ascertained by any authentic proofs, and those who havelived near them may be excused for some degree of scepticism with regardto their attainments of this kind. If they draw or paint, there is alwaysan able artist present, who, if he does not absolutely guide the pencilwith his own hand, directs it by his advice. If a princess attempt apiece of embroidery in colours, of that description which ranks amongstthe productions of the arts, a skilful embroideress is employed to undoand repair whatever has been spoilt. If the princess be a musician, thereare no ears that will discover when she is out of tune; at least there isno tongue that will tell her so. This imperfection in the accomplishmentsof the great is but a slight misfortune. It is sufficiently meritoriousin them to engage in such pursuits, even with indifferent success, becausethis taste and the protection it extends produce abundance of talent onevery side. Maria Leczinska delighted in the art of painting, andimagined she herself could draw and paint. She had a drawing-master, whopassed all his time in her cabinet. She undertook to paint four largeChinese pictures, with which she wished to ornament her privatedrawing-room, which was richly furnished with rare porcelain and thefinest marbles. This painter was entrusted with the landscape andbackground of the pictures; he drew the figures with a pencil; the facesand arms were also left by the Queen to his execution; she reserved toherself nothing but the draperies, and the least important accessories. The Queen every morning filled up the outline marked out for her, with alittle red, blue, or green colour, which the master prepared on thepalette, and even filled her brush with, constantly repeating, 'Higher up, Madame--lower down, Madame--a little to the right--more to the left. 'After an hour's work, the time for hearing mass, or some other family orpious duty, would interrupt her Majesty; and the painter, putting theshadows into the draperies she had painted, softening off the colour whereshe had laid too much, etc. , finished the small figures. When the workwas completed the private drawing-room was decorated with her Majesty'swork; and the firm persuasion of this good Queen that she had painted itherself was so entire that she left this cabinet, with all its furnitureand paintings, to the Comtesse de Noailles, her lady of honour. She addedto the bequest: 'The pictures in my cabinet being my own work, I hope theComtesse de Noailles will preserve them for my sake. ' Madame de Noailles, afterwards Marechale de Mouchy, had a new pavilion constructed in herhotel in the Faubourg St. Germain, in order to form a suitable receptaclefor the Queen's legacy; and had the following inscription placed over thedoor, in letters of gold: 'The innocent falsehood of a good princess. '

"Maria Leczinska could never look with cordiality on the Princess ofSaxony, who married the Dauphin; but the attentive behaviour of theDauphiness at length made her Majesty forget that the Princess was thedaughter of a king who wore her father's crown. Nevertheless, althoughthe Queen now saw in the Princess of Saxony only a wife beloved by herson, she never could forget that Augustus wore the crown of Stanislaus. One day an officer of her chamber having undertaken to ask a privateaudience of her for the Saxon minister, and the Queen being unwilling togrant it, he ventured to add that he should not have presumed to ask thisfavour of the Queen had not the minister been the ambassador of a memberof the family. 'Say of an enemy of the family, ' replied the Queen, angrily; 'and let him come in. '

"Comte de Tesse, father of the last Count of that name, who left nochildren, was first equerry to Queen Maria Leczinska. She esteemed hisvirtues, but often diverted herself at the expense of his simplicity. Oneday, when the conversation turned on the noble military, actions by whichthe French nobility was distinguished, the Queen said to the Count: 'Andyour family, M. De Tesse, has been famous, too, in the field. '--'Ah, Madame, we have all been killed in our masters' service!'--'How rejoiced Iam, ' replied the Queen, 'that you have revived to tell me of it. ' The sonof this worthy M. De Tesse was married to the amiable and highly gifteddaughter of the Duc d'Ayen, afterwards Marechale de Noailles. He wasexceedingly fond of his daughter-in-law, and never could speak of herwithout emotion. The Queen, to please him, often talked to him about theyoung Countess, and one day asked him which of her good qualities seemedto him most conspicuous. 'Her gentleness, Madame, her gentleness, ' saidhe, with tears in his eyes; 'she is so mild, so soft, --as soft as a goodcarriage. '--'Well, ' said her Majesty, 'that's an excellent comparison fora first equerry. '

"In 1730 Queen Maria Leczinska, going to mass, met old Marechal Villars, leaning on a wooden crutch not worth fifteen pence. She rallied him aboutit, and the Marshal told her that he had used it ever since he hadreceived a wound which obliged him to add this article to the equipmentsof the army. Her Majesty, smiling, said she thought this crutch sounworthy of him that she hoped to induce him to give it up. On returninghome she despatched M. Campan to Paris with orders to purchase at thecelebrated Germain's the handsomest cane, with a gold enamelled crutch, that he could find, and carry it without delay to Marechal Villars'shotel, and present it to him from her. He was announced accordingly, andfulfilled his commission. The Marshal, in attending him to the door, requested him to express his gratitude to the Queen, and said that he hadnothing fit to offer to an officer who had the honour to belong to herMajesty; but he begged him to accept of his old stick, saying that hisgrandchildren would probably some day be glad to possess the cane withwhich he had commanded at Marchiennes and Denain. The known frugality ofMarechal Villars appears in this anecdote; but he was not mistaken withrespect to the estimation in which his stick would be held. It wasthenceforth kept with veneration by M. Campan's family. On the 10th ofAugust, 1792, a house which I occupied on the Carrousel, at the entranceof the Court of the Tuileries, was pillaged and nearly burnt down. Thecane of Marechal Villars was thrown into the Carrousel as of no value, andpicked up by my servant. Had its old master been living at that period weshould not have witnessed such a deplorable day. 

"Before the Revolution there were customs and words in use at Versailleswith which few people were acquainted. The King's dinner was called 'TheKing's meat. ' Two of the Body Guard accompanied the attendants whocarried the dinner; every one rose as they passed through the halls, saying, 'There is the King's meat. ' All precautionary duties weredistinguished by the words 'in case. ' One of the guards might be heard tosay, 'I am in case in the forest of St. Germain. ' In the evening theyalways brought the Queen a large bowl of broth, a cold roast fowl, onebottle of wine, one of orgeat, one of lemonade, and some other articles, which were called the 'in case' for the night. An old medical gentleman, who had been physician in ordinary to Louis XIV. , and was still living atthe time of the marriage of Louis XV. , told M. Campan's father an anecdotewhich seems too remarkable to have remained unknown; nevertheless he was aman of honour, incapable of inventing this story. His name was Lafosse. He said that Louis XIV. Was informed that the officers of his tableevinced, in the most disdainful and offensive manner, the mortificationthey felt at being obliged to eat at the table of the comptroller of thekitchen along with Moliere, valet de chambre to his Majesty, becauseMoliere had performed on the stage; and that this celebrated authorconsequently declined appearing at that table. Louis XIV. , determined toput an end to insults which ought never to have been offered to one of thegreatest geniuses of the age, said to him one morning at the hour of hisprivate levee, 'They say you live very poorly here, Moliere; and that theofficers of my chamber do not find you good enough to eat with them. Perhaps you are hungry; for my part I awoke with a very good appetite thismorning: sit down at this table. Serve up my 'in case' for the nightthere. ' The King, then cutting up his fowl, and ordering Moliere to sitdown, helped him to a wing, at the same time taking one for himself, andordered the persons entitled to familiar entrance, that is to say the mostdistinguished and favourite people at Court, to be admitted. 'You seeme, ' said the King to them, 'engaged in entertaining Moliere, whom myvalets de chambre do not consider sufficiently good company for them. 'From that time Moliere never had occasion to appear at the valets' table;the whole Court was forward enough to send him invitations. 

"M. De Lafosse used also to relate that a brigade-major of the Body Guard, being ordered to place the company in the little theatre at Versailles, very roughly turned out one of the King's comptrollers who had taken hisseat on one of the benches, a place to which his newly acquired officeentitled him. In vain he insisted on his quality and his right. Thealtercation was ended by the brigade-major in these words: 'Gentlemen BodyGuards, do your duty. ' In this case their duty was to turn the offenderout at the door. This comptroller, who had paid sixty or eighty thousandfrancs for his appointment, was a man of a good family, and had had thehonour of serving his Majesty five and twenty years in one of hisregiments; thus ignominiously driven out of the hall, he placed himself inthe King's way in the great hall of the Guards, and, bowing to hisMajesty, requested him to vindicate the honour of an old soldier who hadwished to end his days in his Prince's civil employment, now that age hadobliged him to relinquish his military service. The King stopped, heardhis story, and then ordered him to follow him. His Majesty attended therepresentation in a sort of amphitheatre, in which his armchair wasplaced; behind him was a row of stools for the captain of the Guards, thefirst gentleman of the chamber, and other great officers. Thebrigade-major was entitled to one of these places; the King stoppedopposite the seat which ought to have been occupied by that officer andsaid to the comptroller, 'Take, monsieur, for this evening, the place nearmy person of him who has offended you, and let the expression of mydispleasure at this unjust affront satisfy you instead of any otherreparation:

"During the latter years of the reign of Louis XIV. He never went out butin a chair carried by porters, and he showed a great regard for a mannamed D'Aigremont, one of those porters who always went in front andopened the door of the chair. The slightest preference shown bysovereigns, even to the meanest of their servants, never fails to exciteobservation. 

[People of the very first rank did not disdain to descend to the level ofD'Aigremont. "Lauzun, " said the Duchesse d'Orleans in her "Memoirs, ""sometimes affects stupidity in order to show people their own withimpunity, for he is very malicious. In order to make Marechal de Teasefeel the impropriety of his familiarity with people of the common sort, hecalled out, in the drawing-room at Marly, 'Marechal, give me a pinch ofsnuff; some of your best, such as you take in the morning with Monsieurd'Aigremont, the chairman. '"--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

The King had done something for this man's numerous family, and frequentlytalked to him. An abbe belonging to the chapel thought proper to requestD'Aigremont to present a memorial to the King, in which he requested hisMajesty to grant him a benefice. Louis XIV. Did not approve of theliberty thus taken by his chairman, and said to him, in a very angry tone, 'D'Aigremont, you have been made to do a very unbecoming act, and I amsure there must be simony in the case. '--'No, Sire, there is not the leastceremony in the case, I assure you, ' answered the poor man, in greatconsternation; 'the abbe only said he would give me a hundredLouis. '--'D'Aigremont, ' said the King, 'I forgive you on account of yourignorance and candour. I will give you the hundred Louis out of my privypurse; but I will discharge you the very next time you venture to presenta memorial to me. '

"Louis XIV. Was very kind to those of his servants who were nearest hisperson; but the moment he assumed his royal deportment, those who weremost accustomed to see him in his domestic character were as muchintimidated as if they were appearing in his presence for the first timein their lives. Some of the members of his Majesty's civil household, then called 'commensalite', enjoying the title of equerry, and theprivileges attached to officers of the King's household, had occasion toclaim some prerogatives, the exercise of which the municipal body of St. Germain, where they resided, disputed with them. Being assembled inconsiderable numbers in that town, they obtained the consent of theminister of the household to allow them to send a deputation to the King;and for that purpose chose from amongst them two of his Majesty's valetsde chambre named Bazire and Soulaigre. The King's levee being over, thedeputation of the inhabitants of the town of St. Germain was called in. They entered with confidence; the King looked at them, and assumed hisimposing attitude. Bazire, one of these valets de chambre, was about tospeak, but Louis the Great was looking on him. He no longer saw thePrince he was accustomed to attend at home; he was intimidated, and couldnot find words; he recovered, however, and began as usual with the wordSire. But timidity again overpowered him, and finding himself unable torecollect the slightest particle of what he came to say, he repeated theword Sire several times, and at length concluded by paying, 'Sire, here isSoulaigre. ' Soulaigre, who was very angry with Bazire, and expected toacquit himself much better, then began to speak; but he also, afterrepeating 'Sire' several times, found his embarrassment increasing uponhim, until his confusion equalled that of his colleague; he thereforeended with 'Sire, here is Bazire. ' The King smiled, and answered, 'Gentlemen, I have been informed of the business upon which you have beendeputed to wait on me, and I will take care that what is right shall bedone. I am highly satisfied with the manner in which you have fulfilledyour functions as deputies. '"

Mademoiselle Genet's education was the object of her father's particularattention. Her progress in the study of music and of foreign languageswas surprising; Albaneze instructed her in singing, and Goldoni taught herItalian. Tasso, Milton, Dante, and even Shakespeare, soon became familiarto her. But her studies were particularly directed to the acquisition ofa correct and elegant style of reading. Rochon de Chabannes, Duclos, Barthe, Marmontel, and Thomas took pleasure in hearing her recite thefinest scenes of Racine. Her memory and genius at the age of fourteencharmed them; they talked of her talents in society, and perhaps applaudedthem too highly. 

She was soon spoken of at Court. Some ladies of high rank, who took aninterest in the welfare of her family, obtained for her the place ofReader to the Princesses. Her presentation, and the circumstances whichpreceded it, left a strong impression on her mind. "I was then fifteen, "she says; "my father felt some regret at yielding me up at so early an ageto the jealousies of the Court. The day on which I first put on my Courtdress, and went to embrace him in his study, tears filled his eyes, andmingled with the expression of his pleasure. I possessed some agreeabletalents, in addition to the instruction which it had been his delight tobestow on me. He enumerated all my little accomplishments, to convince meof the vexations they would not fail to draw upon me. "

Mademoiselle Genet, at fifteen, was naturally less of a philosopher thanher father was at forty. Her eyes were dazzled by the splendour whichglittered at Versailles. "The Queen, Maria Leczinska, the wife of LouisXV. , died, " she says, "just before I was presented at Court. The grandapartments hung with black, the great chairs of state, raised on severalsteps, and surmounted by a canopy adorned with Plumes; the caparisonedhorses, the immense retinue in Court mourning, the enormousshoulder-knots, embroidered with gold and silver spangles, which decoratedthe coats of the pages and footmen, --all this magnificence had such aneffect on my senses that I could scarcely support myself when introducedto the Princesses. The first day of my reading in the inner apartment ofMadame Victoire I found it impossible to pronounce more than twosentences; my heart palpitated, my voice faltered, and my sight failed. How well understood was the potent magic of the grandeur and dignity whichought to surround sovereigns! Marie Antoinette, dressed in white, with aplain straw hat, and a little switch in her hand, walking on foot, followed by a single servant, through the walks leading to the PetitTrianon, would never have thus disconcerted me; and I believe this extremesimplicity was the first and only real mistake of all those with which sheis reproached. "

When once her awe and confusion had subsided, Mademoiselle Genet wasenabled to form a more accurate judgment of her situation. It was by nomeans attractive; the Court of the Princesses, far removed from the revelsto which Louie XV. Was addicted, was grave, methodical, and dull. MadameAdelaide, the eldest of the Princesses, lived secluded in the interior ofher apartments; Madame Sophie was haughty; Madame Louise a devotee. Mademoiselle Genet never quitted the Princesses' apartments; but sheattached herself most particularly to Madame Victoire. This Princess hadpossessed beauty; her countenance bore an expression of benevolence, andher conversation was kind, free, and unaffected. The young reader excitedin her that feeling which a woman in years, of an affectionatedisposition, readily extends to young people who are growing up in hersight, and who possess some useful talents. Whole days were passed inreading to the Princess, as she sat at work in her apartment. MademoiselleGenet frequently saw there Louis XV. , of whom she has related thefollowing anecdote:

"One day, at the Chateau of Compiegne, the King came in whilst I wasreading to Madame. I rose and went into another room. Alone, in anapartment from which there was no outlet, with no book but a Massillon, which I had been reading to the Princess, happy in all the lightness andgaiety of fifteen, I amused myself with turning swiftly round, with mycourt hoop, and suddenly kneeling down to see my rose-coloured silkpetticoat swelled around me by the wind. In the midst of this graveemployment enters his Majesty, followed by one of the Princesses. Iattempt to rise; my feet stumble, and down I fall in the midst of myrobes, puffed out by the wind. 'Daughter, ' said Louis XV. , laughingheartily, 'I advise you to send back to school a reader who makescheeses. '" The railleries of Louis XV. Were often much more cutting, asMademoiselle Genet experienced on another occasion, which, thirty yearsafterwards, she could not relate without an emotion of fear. "Louis XV. , "she said, "had the most imposing presence. His eyes remained fixed uponyou all the time he was speaking; and, notwithstanding the beauty of hisfeatures, he inspired a sort of fear. I was very young, it is true, whenhe first spoke to me; you shall judge whether it was in a very graciousmanner. I was fifteen. The King was going out to hunt, and a numerousretinue followed him. As he stopped opposite me he said, 'MademoiselleGenet, I am assured you are very learned, and understand four or fiveforeign languages. '--'I know only two, Sire, ' I answered, trembling. 'Which are they?' English and Italian. '--'Do you speak them fluently?'Yes, Sire, very fluently. ' 'That is quite enough to drive a husband mad. 'After this pretty compliment the King went on; the retinue saluted me, laughing; and, for my part, I remained for some moments motionless withsurprise and confusion. "

At the time when the French alliance was proposed by the Duc de Choiseulthere was at Vienna a doctor named Gassner, --[Jean Joseph Gassner, apretender to miraculous powers. ]--who had fled thither to seek an asylumagainst the persecutions of his sovereign, one of the ecclesiasticalelectors. Gassner, gifted with an extraordinary warmth of imagination, imagined that he received inspirations. The Empress protected him, sawhim occasionally, rallied him on his visions, and, nevertheless, heardthem with a sort of interest. "Tell me, "--said she to him one day, "whether my Antoinette will be happy. " Gassner turned pale, and remainedsilent. Being still pressed by the Empress, and wishing to give a generalexpression to the idea with which he seemed deeply occupied, "Madame, " hereplied, "there are crosses for all shoulders. "

The occurrences at the Place Louis XV. On the marriage festivities atParis are generally known. The conflagration of the scaffolds intendedfor the fireworks, the want of foresight of the authorities, the avidityof robbers, the murderous career of the coaches, brought about andaggravated the disasters of that day; and the young Dauphiness, comingfrom Versailles, by the Cours la Reine, elated with joy, brilliantlydecorated, and eager to witness the rejoicings of the whole people, fled, struck with consternation and drowned in tears, from the dreadful scene. This tragic opening of the young Princess's life in France seemed to bearout Gassner's hint of disaster, and to be ominous of the terrible futurewhich awaited her. 

In the same year in which Marie Antoinette was married to the Dauphin, Henriette Genet married a son of M. Campan, already mentioned as holdingan office at the Court; and when the household of the Dauphiness wasformed, Madame Campan was appointed her reader, and received from MarieAntoinette a consistent kindness and confidence to which by her loyalservice she was fully entitled. Madame Campan's intelligence andvivacity made her much more sympathetic to a young princess, gay andaffectionate in disposition, and reared in the simplicity of a GermanCourt, than her lady of honour, the Comtesse de Noailles. Thisrespectable lady, who was placed near her as a minister of the laws ofetiquette, instead of alleviating their weight, rendered their yokeintolerable to her. 

"Madame de Noailles, " says Madame Campan, "abounded in virtues. Herpiety, charity, and irreproachable morals rendered her worthy of praise;but etiquette was to her a sort of atmosphere; at the slightestderangement of the consecrated order, one would have thought theprinciples of life would forsake her frame. 

"One day I unintentionally threw this poor lady into a terrible agony. TheQueen was receiving I know not whom, --some persons just presented, Ibelieve; the lady of honour, the Queen's tirewoman, and the ladies of thebedchamber, were behind the Queen. I was near the throne, with the twowomen on duty. All was right, --at least I thought so. Suddenly Iperceived the eyes of Madame de Noailles fixed on mine. She made a signwith her head, and then raised her eyebrows to the top of her forehead, lowered them, raised them again, then began to make little signs with herhand. From all this pantomime, I could easily perceive that something wasnot as it should be; and as I looked about on all sides to find out whatit was, the agitation of the Countess kept increasing. The Queen, whoperceived all this, looked at me with a smile; I found means to approachher Majesty, who said to me in a whisper, 'Let down your lappets, or theCountess will expire. ' All this bustle arose from two unlucky pins whichfastened up my lappets, whilst the etiquette of costume said 'Lappetshanging down. '"

Her contempt of the vanities of etiquette became the pretext for the firstreproaches levelled at the Queen. What misconduct might not be dreadedfrom a princess who could absolutely go out without a hoop! and who, inthe salons of Trianon, instead of discussing the important rights tochairs and stools, good-naturedly invited everybody to be seated. 

[M. De Fresne Forget, being one day in company with the Queen Marguerite, told her he was astonished how men and women with such great ruffs couldeat soup without spoiling them; and still more how the ladies could begallant with their great fardingales. The Queen made no answer at thattime, but a few days after, having a very large ruff on, and some 'bouili'to eat, she ordered a very long spoon to be brought, and ate her 'bouili'with it, without soiling her ruff. Upon which, addressing herself to M. De Fresne, she said, laughing, "There now, you see, with a littleingenuity one may manage anything. "--"Yes, faith, madame, " said the goodman, "as far as regards the soup I am satisfied. "--LAPLACE's "Collection, "vol. Ii. , p. 350. ]

The anti-Austrian party, discontented and vindictive, became spies uponher conduct, exaggerated her slightest errors, and calumniated her mostinnocent proceedings. "What seems unaccountable at the first glance, "says Montjoie, "is that the first attack on the reputation of the Queenproceeded from the bosom of the Court. What interest could the courtiershave in seeking her destruction, which involved that of the King? Was itnot drying up the source of all the advantages they enjoyed, or could hopefor?"

[Madame Campan relates the following among many anecdotes illustrative ofthe Queen's kindness of heart: "A petition was addressed to the Queen by acorporation in the neighbourhood of Paris, praying for the destruction ofthe game which destroyed their crops. I was the bearer of this petitionto her Majesty, who said, 'I will undertake to have these good peoplerelieved from so great an annoyance. ' She gave the document to M. DeVermond in my presence, saying, 'I desire that immediate justice be doneto this petition. ' An assurance was given that her order should beattended to, but six weeks afterwards a second petition was sent up, forthe nuisance had not been abated after all. If the second petition hadreached the Queen, M. De Vermond would have received a sharp reprimand. She was always so happy when it was in her power to do good. "

The quick repartee, which was another of the Queen's characteristics, wasless likely to promote her popularity. "M. Brunier, " says Madame Campan, "was physician to the royal children. During his visits to the palace, ifthe death of any of his patients was alluded to, he never failed to say, 'Ah! there I lost one of my best friends! 'Well, ' said the Queen, 'if heloses all his patients who are his friends, what will become of those whoare not?'"]

When the terrible Danton exclaimed, "The kings of Europe menace us; itbehooves us to defy them; let us throw down to them the head of a king asour gage!" these detestable words, followed by so cruel a result, formed, however, a formidable stroke of policy. But the Queen! What urgentreasons of state could Danton, Collot d'Herbois, and Robespierre allegeagainst her? What savage greatness did they discover in stirring up awhole nation to avenge their quarrel on a woman? What remained of herformer power? She was a captive, a widow, trembling for her children! Inthose judges, who at once outraged modesty and nature; in that peoplewhose vilest scoffs pursued her to the scaffold, who could have recognisedthe generous people of France? Of all the crimes which disgraced theRevolution, none was more calculated to show how the spirit of party candegrade the character of a nation. 

The news of this dreadful event reached Madame Campan in an obscureretreat which she had chosen. She had not succeeded in her endeavours toshare the Queen's captivity, and she expected every moment a similar fate. After escaping, almost miraculously, from the murderous fury of theMarseillais; after being denounced and pursued by Robespierre, andentrusted, through the confidence of the King and Queen, with papers ofthe utmost importance, Madame Campan went to Coubertin, in the valley ofChevreuse. Madame Auguid, her sister, had just committed suicide, at thevery moment of her arrest. 

[Maternal affection prevailed over her religious sentiments; she wished topreserve the wreck of her fortune for her children. Had she deferred thisfatal act for one day she would have been saved; the cart which conveyedRobespierre to execution stopped her funeral procession!]

The scaffold awaited Madame Campan, when the 9th of Thermidor restored herto life; but did not restore to her the most constant object of herthoughts, her zeal, and her devotion. 

A new career now opened to Madame Campan. At Coubertin, surrounded by hernieces, she was fond of directing their studies. This occupation causedher ideas to revert to the subject of education, and awakened once morethe inclinations of her youth. At the age of twelve years she could nevermeet a school of young ladies passing through the streets without feelingambitious of the situation and authority of their mistress. Her abode atCourt had diverted but not altered her inclinations. "A month after thefall of Robespierre, " she says, "I considered as to the means of providingfor myself, for a mother seventy years of age, my sick husband, my childnine years old, and part of my ruined family. I now possessed nothing inthe world but an assignat of five hundred francs. I had become responsiblefor my husband's debts, to the amount of thirty thousand francs. I choseSt. Germain to set up a boarding-school, for that town did not remind me, as Versailles did, both of happy times and of the misfortunes of France. I took with me a nun of l'Enfant-Jesus, to give an unquestionable pledgeof my religious principles. The school of St. Germain was the first inwhich the opening of an oratory was ventured on. The Directory wasdispleased at it, and ordered it to be immediately shut up; and some timeafter commissioners were sent to desire that the reading of the Scripturesshould be suppressed in my school. I inquired what books were to besubstituted in their stead. After some minutes' conversation, theyobserved: 'Citizeness, you are arguing after the old fashion; noreflections. The nation commands; we must have obedience, and noreasoning. ' Not having the means of printing my prospectus, I wrote ahundred copies of it, and sent them to the persons of my acquaintance whohad survived the dreadful commotions. At the year's end I had sixtypupils; soon afterwards a hundred. I bought furniture and paid my debts. "

The rapid success of the establishment at St. Germain was undoubtedlyowing to the talents, experience, and excellent principles of MadameCampan, seconded by public opinion. All property had changed hands; allranks found themselves confusedly jumbled by the shock of the Revolution:the grand seigneur dined at the table of the opulent contractor; and thewitty and elegant marquise was present at the ball by the side of theclumsy peasant lately grown rich. In the absence of the ancientdistinctions, elegant manners and polished language now formed a kind ofaristocracy. The house of St. Germain, conducted by a lady who possessedthe deportment and the habits of the best society, was not only a schoolof knowledge, but a school of the world. 

"A friend of Madame de Beauharnais, " continues Madame Campan, "brought meher daughter Hortense de Beauharnais, and her niece Emilie de Beauharnais. Six months afterwards she came to inform me of her marriage with aCorsican gentleman, who had been brought up in the military school, andwas then a general. I was requested to communicate this information toher daughter, who long lamented her mother's change of name. I was alsodesired to watch over the education of little Eugene de Beauharnais, whowas placed at St. Germain, in the same school with my son. 

"A great intimacy sprang up between my nieces and these young people. Madame de Beauharnaias set out for Italy, and left her children with me. On her return, after the conquests of Bonaparte, that general, muchpleased with the improvement of his stepdaughter, invited me to dine atMalmaison, and attended two representations of 'Esther' at my school. "

He also showed his appreciation of her talents by sending his sisterCaroline to St. Germain. Shortly before Caroline's marriage to Murat, andwhile she was yet at St. Germain, Napoleon observed to Madame Campan: "Ido not like those love matches between young people whose brains areexcited by the flames of the imagination. I had other views for mysister. Who knows what high alliance I might have procured for her! Sheis thoughtless, and does not form a just notion of my situation. The timewill come when, perhaps, sovereigns might dispute for her hand. She isabout to marry a brave man; but in my situation that is not enough. Fateshould be left to fulfil her decrees. "

[Madame Murat one day said to Madame Campan: "I am astonished that you arenot more awed in our presence; you speak to us with as much familiarity aswhen we were your pupils!"--"The best thing you can do, " replied MadameCampan, "is to forget your titles when you are with me, for I can never beafraid of queens whom I have held under the rod. "]

Madame Campan dined at the Tuileries in company with the Pope's nuncio, atthe period when the Concordat was in agitation. During dinner the FirstConsul astonished her by the able manner in which he conversed on thesubject under discussion. She said he argued so logically that his talentquite amazed her. During the consulate Napoleon one day said to her, "Ifever I establish a republic of women, I shall make you First Consul. "

Napoleon's views as to "woman's mission" are now well known. MadameCampan said that she heard from him that when he founded the convent ofthe Sisters of la Charite he was urgently solicited to permit perpetualvows. He, however, refused to do so, on the ground that tastes maychange, and that he did not see the necessity of excluding from the worldwomen who might some time or other return to it, and become useful membersof society. "Nunneries, " he added, "assail the very roots of population. It is impossible to calculate the loss which a nation sustains in havingten thousand women shut up in cloisters. War does but little mischief;for the number of males is at least one-twenty-fifth greater than that offemales. Women may, if they please, be allowed to make perpetual vows atfifty years of age; for then their task is fulfilled. "

Napoleon once said to Madame Campan, "The old systems of education weregood for nothing; what do young women stand in need of, to be well broughtup in France?"--"Of mothers, " answered Madame Campan. "It is well said, "replied Napoleon. "Well, madame, let the French be indebted to you forbringing up mothers for their children. "--"Napoleon one day interruptedMadame de Stael in the midst of a profound political argument to ask herwhether she had nursed her children. "

Never had the establishment at St. Germain been in a more flourishingcondition than in 1802-3. What more could Madame Campan wish? For tenyears absolute in her own house, she seemed also safe from the caprice ofpower. But the man who then disposed of the fate of France and Europe wassoon to determine otherwise. 

After the battle of Austerlitz the State undertook to bring up, at thepublic expense, the sisters, daughters, or nieces of those who weredecorated with the Cross of Honour. The children of the warriors killedor wounded in glorious battle were to find paternal care in the ancientabodes of the Montmorencys and the Condes. Accustomed to concentratearound him all superior talents, fearless himself of superiority, Napoleonsought for a person qualified by experience and abilities to conduct theinstitution of Ecouen; he selected Madame Campan. 

Comte de Lacepede, the pupil, friend, and rival of Buffon, then GrandChancellor of the Legion of Honour, assisted her with his enlightenedadvice. Napoleon, who could descend with ease from the highest politicalsubjects to the examination of the most minute details; who was as much athome in inspecting a boarding-school for young ladies as in reviewing thegrenadiers of his guard; whom it was impossible to deceive, and who wasnot unwilling to find fault when he visited the establishment atEcouen, --was forced to say, "It is all right. "

[Napoleon wished to be informed of every particular of the furniture, government, and order of the house, the instruction and education of thepupils. The internal regulations were submitted to him. One of theintended rules, drawn up by Madame Campan, proposed that the childrenshould hear mass on Sundays and Thursdays. Napoleon himself wrote on themargin, "every day. "]

"In the summer of 1811, " relates Madame Campan, "Napoleon, accompanied byMarie Louise and several personages of distinction, visited theestablishment at Ecouen. After inspecting the chapel and the refectories, Napoleon desired that the three principal pupils might be presented tohim. 'Sire, ' said I, 'I cannot select three; I must present six. ' Heturned on his heel and repaired to the platform, where, after seeing allthe classes assembled, he repeated his demand. 'Sire, ' said I, 'I begleave to inform your Majesty that I should commit an injustice towardsseveral other pupils who are as far advanced as those whom I might havethe honour to present to you. '

"Berthier and others intimated to me, in a low tone of voice, that Ishould get into disgrace by my noncompliance. Napoleon looked over thewhole of the house, entered into the most trivial details, and afteraddressing questions to several of the pupils: 'Well, madame, ' said he, 'Iam satisfied; show me your six best pupils. '" Madame Campan presentedthem to him; and as he stepped into his carriage, he desired that theirnames might be sent to Berthier. On addressing the list to the Prince deNeufchatel, Madame Campan added to it the names of four other pupils, andall the ten obtained a pension of 300 francs. During the three hourswhich this visit occupied, Marie Louise did not utter a single word. 

M. De Beaumont, chamberlain to the Empress Josephine, one day at Malmaisonwas expressing his regret that M. D-----, one of Napoleon's generals, whohad recently been promoted, did not belong to a great family. "Youmistake, monsieur, " observed Madame Campan, "he is of very ancientdescent; he is one of the nephews of Charlemagne. All the heroes of ourarmy sprang from the elder branch of that sovereign's family, who neveremigrated. "

When Madame Campan related this circumstance she added: "After the 30th ofMarch, 1814, some officers of the army of Conde presumed to say to certainFrench marshals that it was a pity they were not more nobly connected. Inanswer to this, one of them said, 'True nobility, gentlemen, consists ingiving proofs of it. The field of honour has witnessed ours; but whereare we to look for yours? Your swords have rusted in their scabbards. Our laurels may well excite envy; we have earned them nobly, and we owethem solely to our valour. You have merely inherited a name. This is thedistinction between us. "

[When one of the princes of the smaller German States was showing MarechalLannes, with a contemptuous superiority of manner but ill concealed, theportraits of his ancestors, and covertly alluding to the absence ofLannes's, that general turned the tables on him by haughtily remarking, "But I am an ancestor. "]

Napoleon used to observe that if he had had two such field-marshals asSuchet in Spain he would have not only conquered but kept the Peninsula. Suchet's sound judgment, his governing yet conciliating spirit, hismilitary tact, and his bravery, had procured him astonishing success. "Itis to be regretted, " added he, "that a sovereign cannot improvise men ofhis stamp. "

On the 19th of March, 1815, a number of papers were left in the King'scloset. Napoleon ordered them to be examined, and among them was foundthe letter written by Madame Campan to Louis XVIII. , immediately after thefirst restoration. In this letter she enumerated the contents of theportfolio which Louis XVI. Had placed under her care. When Napoleon readthis letter, he said, "Let it be sent to the office of Foreign Affairs; itis an historical document. "

Madame Campan thus described a visit from the Czar of Russia: "A few daysafter the battle of Paris the Emperor Alexander came to Ecouen, and he didme the honour to breakfast with me. After showing him over theestablishment I conducted him to the park, the most elevated point ofwhich overlooked the plain of St. Denis. 'Sire, ' said I, 'from this pointI saw the battle of Paris'--'If, ' replied the Emperor, 'that battle hadlasted two hours longer we should not have had a single cartridge at ourdisposal. We feared that we had been betrayed; for on arriving soprecipitately before Paris all our plans were laid, and we did not expectthe firm resistance we experienced. ' I next conducted the Emperor to thechapel, and showed him the seats occupied by 'le connetable' (theconstable) of Montmorency, and 'la connetable' (the constable's lady), when they went to hear mass. 'Barbarians like us, ' observed the Emperor, 'would say la connetable and le connetable. '

"The Czar inquired into the most minute particulars respecting theestablishment of Ecouen, and I felt great pleasure in answering hisquestions. I recollect having dwelt on several points which appeared tome to be very important, and which were in their spirit hostile toaristocratic principles. For example, I informed his Majesty that thedaughters of distinguished and wealthy individuals and those of the humbleand obscure mingled indiscriminately in the establishment. 'If, ' said I, 'I were to observe the least pretension on account of the rank or fortuneof parents, I should immediately put an end to it. The most perfectequality is preserved; distinction is awarded only to merit and industry. The pupils are obliged to cut out and make all their own clothes. Theyare taught to clean and mend lace; and two at a time, they by turns, threetimes a week, cook and distribute food to the poor of the village. Theyoung girls who have been brought up at Ecouen, or in my boarding-schoolat St. Germain, are thoroughly acquainted with everything relating tohousehold business, and they are grateful to me for having made that apart of their education. In my conversations with them I have alwaystaught them that on domestic management depends the preservation ordissipation of their fortunes. '

"The post-master of Ecouen was in the courtyard at the moment when theEmperor, as he stepped into his carriage, told me he would send somesweetmeats for the pupils. I immediately communicated to them theintelligence, which was joyfully received; but the sweetmeats were lookedfor in vain. When Alexander set out for England he changed horses atEcouen, and the post-master said to him: 'Sire, the pupils of Ecouen arestill expecting the sweetmeats which your Majesty promised them. ' Towhich the Emperor replied that he had directed Saken to send them. TheCossacks had most likely devoured the sweetmeats, and the poor littlegirls, who had been so highly flattered by the promise, never tastedthem. "

"A second house was formed at St. Denis, on the model of that of Ecouen. Perhaps Madame Campan might have hoped for a title to which her longlabours gave her a right; perhaps the superintendence of the two houseswould have been but the fair recompense of her services; but her fortunateyears had passed her fate was now to depend on the most important events. Napoleon had accumulated such a mass of power as no one but himself inEurope could overturn. France, content with thirty years of victories, invain asked for peace and repose. The army which had triumphed in thesands of Egypt, on the summits of the Alps, and in the marshes of Holland, was to perish amidst the snows of Russia. Nations combined against asingle man. The territory of France was invaded. The orphans of Ecouen, from the windows of the mansion which served as their asylum, saw in thedistant plain the fires of the Russian bivouacs, and once more wept thedeaths of their fathers. Paris capitulated. France hailed the return ofthe descendants of Henri IV. ; they reascended the throne so long filled bytheir ancestors, which the wisdom of an enlightened prince established onthe empire of the laws. 

[A lady, connected with the establishment of St. Denis, told Madame Campanthat Napoleon visited it during the Hundred Days, and that the pupils wereso delighted to see him that they crowded round him, endeavouring to touchhis clothes, and evincing the most extravagant joy. The matronendeavoured to silence them; but Napoleon said, 'Let them alone; let themalone. This may weaken the head, but it strengthens the heart. ']"

This moment, which diffused joy amongst the faithful servants of the royalfamily, and brought them the rewards of their devotion, proved to MadameCampan a period of bitter vexation. The hatred of her enemies hadrevived. The suppression of the school at Ecouen had deprived her of herposition; the most absurd calumnies followed her into her retreat; herattachment to the Queen was suspected; she was accused not only ofingratitude but of perfidy. Slander has little effect on youth, but inthe decline of life its darts are envenomed with a mortal poison. Thewounds which Madame Campan had received were deep. Her sister, MadameAuguie, had destroyed herself; M. Rousseau, her brother-in-law, hadperished, a victim of the reign of terror. In 1813 a dreadful accidenthad deprived her of her niece, Madame de Broc, one of the most amiable andinteresting beings that ever adorned the earth. Madame Campan seemeddestined to behold those whom she loved go down to the grave before her. 

Beyond the walls of the mansion of Ecouen, in the village which surroundsit, Madame Campan had taken a small house where she loved to pass a fewhours in solitary retirement. There, at liberty to abandon herself to thememory of the past, the superintendent of the imperial establishmentbecame, once more, for the moment, the first lady of the chamber to MarieAntoinette. To the few friends whom she admitted into this retreat shewould show, with emotion, a plain muslin gown which the Queen had worn, and which was made from a part of Tippoo Saib's present. A cup, out ofwhich Marie Antoinette had drunk; a writing-stand, which she had longused, were, in her eyes, of inestimable value; and she has often beendiscovered sitting, in tears, before the portrait of her royal mistress. 

After so many troubles Madame Campan sought a peaceful retreat. Paris hadbecome odious to her. 

She paid a visit to one of her most beloved pupils, Mademoiselle Crouzet, who had married a physician at Mantes, a man of talent, distinguished forhis intelligence, frankness, and cordiality. 

[M. Maigne, physician to the infirmaries at Mantes. Madame Campan foundin him a friend and comforter, of whose merit and affection she knew thevalue. ]

Mantes is a cheerful place of residence, and the idea of an abode therepleased her. A few intimate friends formed a pleasant society, and sheenjoyed a little tranquillity after so many disturbances. The revisal ofher "Memoirs, " the arrangement of the interesting anecdotes of which her"Recollections" were to consist, alone diverted her mind from the onepowerful sentiment which attached her to life. She lived only for herson. M. Campan deserved the tenderness of, his mother. No sacrifice hadbeen spared for his education. After having pursued that course of studywhich, under the Imperial Government, produced men of such distinguishedmerit, he was waiting till time and circumstances should afford him anopportunity of devoting his services to his country. Although the stateof his health was far from good, it did not threaten any rapid orpremature decay; he was, however, after a few days' illness, suddenlytaken from his family. "I never witnessed so heartrending a scene, " M. Maigne says, "as that which took place when Marechal Ney's lady, herniece, and Madame Pannelier, her sister, came to acquaint her with thismisfortune. --[The wife of Marechal Ney was a daughter of Madame Auguie, and had been an intimate friend of Hortense Beauharnais. ]--When theyentered her apartment she was in bed. All three at once uttered apiercing cry. The two ladies threw themselves on their knees, and kissedher hands, which they bedewed with tears. Before they could speak to hershe read in their faces that she no longer possessed a son. At thatinstant her large eyes, opening wildly, seemed to wander. Her face grewpale, her features changed, her lips lost their colour, she struggled tospeak, but uttered only inarticulate sounds, accompanied by piercingcries. Her gestures were wild, her reason was suspended. Every part ofher being was in agony. To this state of anguish and despair no calmsucceeded, until her tears began to flow. Friendship and the tenderestcares succeeded for a moment in calming her grief, but not in diminishingits power. 

"This violent crisis had disturbed her whole organisation. A crueldisorder, which required a still more cruel operation, soon manifesteditself. The presence of her family, a tour which she made in Switzerland, a residence at Baden, and, above all, the sight, the tender and charmingconversation of a person by whom she was affectionately beloved, occasionally diverted her mind, and in a slight degree relieved hersuffering. " She underwent a serious operation, performed withextraordinary promptitude and the most complete success. No unfavourablesymptoms appeared; Madame Campan was thought to be restored to herfriends; but the disorder was in the blood; it took another course: thechest became affected. "From that moment, " says M. Maigne, "I could neverlook on Madame Campan as living; she herself felt that she belonged nomore to this world. "

"My friend, " she said to her physician the day before her death, "I amattached to the simplicity of religion. I hate all that savours offanaticism. " When her codicil was presented for her signature, her handtrembled; "It would be a pity, " she said, "to stop when so fairly on theroad. "

Madame Campan died on the 16th of March, 1822. The cheerfulness shedisplayed throughout her malady had nothing affected in it. Her characterwas naturally powerful and elevated. At the approach of death she evincedthe soul of a sage, without abandoning for an instant her femininecharacter. 

MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE

Being the Historic Memoirs of Madam Campan, First Lady in Waiting to the Queen

CHAPTER I. 

I was fifteen years of age when I was appointed reader to Mesdames. I willbegin by describing the Court at that period. 

Maria Leczinska was just dead; the death of the Dauphin had preceded hersby three years; the Jesuits were suppressed, and piety was to be found atCourt only in the apartments of Mesdames. The Duc de Choiseuil ruled. 

Etiquette still existed at Court with all the forms it had acquired underLouis XIV. ; dignity alone was wanting. As to gaiety, there was none. Versailles was not the place at which to seek for assemblies where Frenchspirit and grace were displayed. The focus of wit and intelligence wasParis. 

The King thought of nothing but the pleasures of the chase: it might havebeen imagined that the courtiers indulged themselves in making epigrams byhearing them say seriously, on those days when the King did not hunt, "TheKing does nothing to-day. "--[In sporting usance (see SOULAIRE, p. 316). ]

The arrangement beforehand of his movements was also a matter of greatimportance with Louis XV. On the first day of the year he noted down inhis almanac the days of departure for Compiegne, Fontainebleau, Choisy, etc. The weightiest matters, the most serious events, never deranged thisdistribution of his time. 

Since the death of the Marquise de Pompadour, the King had no titledmistress; he contented himself with his seraglio in the Parc-aux-Cerfs. Itis well known that the monarch found the separation of Louis de Bourbonfrom the King of France the most animating feature of his royal existence. "They would have it so; they thought it for the best, " was his way ofexpressing himself when the measures of his ministers were unsuccessful. The King delighted to manage the most disgraceful points of his privateexpenses himself; he one day sold to a head clerk in the War Department ahouse in which one of his mistresses had lodged; the contract ran in thename of Louis de Bourbon, and the purchaser himself took in a bag theprice of the house in gold to the King in his private closet. 

[Until recently little was known about the Parc-aux-Cerfs, and it wasbelieved that a great number of young women had been maintained there atenormous expense. The investigations of M. J. A. Le Roi, given in hisinteresting work, "Curiosites Historiques sur Louis XIII. , Louis XIV. , Louis XV. , " etc. , Paris, Plon, 1864, have thrown fresh light upon thematter. The result he arrives at (see page 229 of his work) is that thehouse in question (No. 4 Rue St. Mederic, on the site of theParc-aux-Cerfs, or breeding-place for deer, of Louis XIII) was very small, and could have held only one girl, the woman in charge of her, and aservant. Most of the girls left it only when about to be confined, and itsometimes stood vacant for five or six months. It may have been rentedbefore the date of purchase, and other houses seem sometimes to have beenused also; but in any case, it is evident that both the number of girlsand the expense incurred have been absurdly exaggerated. The systemflourished under Madame de Pompadour, but ceased as soon as Madame duBarry obtained full power over the King, and the house was then sold to M. J. B. Sevin for 16, 000 livres, on 27th May, 1771, Louis not acting underthe name of Louis de Bourbon, but as King, --"Vente par le Roi, notreSire. " In 1755 he had also been declared its purchaser in a similarmanner. Thus, Madame Campan is in error in saying that the King made thecontract as Louis de Bourbon. ]--[And it also possible that Madam Campanwas correct and that the house she refers to as sold for a "bag of gold"was another of the several of the seraglio establishments of Louis XV. D. W. ]

Louis XV. Saw very little of his family. He came every morning by aprivate staircase into the apartment of Madame Adelaide. 

[Louis XV. Seemed to feel for Madame Adelaide the tenderness he had hadfor the Duchesse de Bourgogne, his mother, who perished so suddenly, underthe eyes and almost in the arms of Louis XIV. The birth of MadameAdelaide, 23d March, 1732, was followed by that of Madame Victoire LouiseMarie Therese on the 11th May, 1733. Louis had, besides, six daughters:Mesdames Sophie and Louise, who are mentioned in this chapter; thePrincesses Marie and Felicite, who died young; Madame Henriette died atVersailles in 1752, aged twenty-four; and finally, Madame the Duchess ofParma, who also died at the Court. ]

He often brought and drank there coffee that he had made himself. MadameAdelaide pulled a bell which apprised Madame Victoire of the King's visit;Madame Victoire, on rising to go to her sister's apartment, rang forMadame Sophie, who in her turn rang for Madame Louise. The apartments ofMesdames were of very large dimensions. Madame Louise occupied thefarthest room. This latter lady was deformed and very short; the poorPrincess used to run with all her might to join the daily meeting, but, having a number of rooms to cross, she frequently in spite of her haste, had only just time to embrace her father before he set out for the chase. 

Every evening, at six, Mesdames interrupted my reading to them toaccompany the princes to Louis XV. ; this visit was called the King's'debotter', --[Debotter, meaning the time of unbooting. ]--and was marked bya kind of etiquette. Mesdames put on an enormous hoop, which set out apetticoat ornamented with gold or embroidery; they fastened a long trainround their waists, and concealed the undress of the rest of theirclothing by a long cloak of black taffety which enveloped them up to thechin. The chevaliers d'honneur, the ladies in waiting, the pages, theequerries, and the ushers bearing large flambeaux, accompanied them to theKing. In a moment the whole palace, generally so still, was in motion;the King kissed each Princess on the forehead, and the visit was so shortthat the reading which it interrupted was frequently resumed at the end ofa quarter of an hour; Mesdames returned to their apartments, and untiedthe strings of their petticoats and trains; they resumed their tapestry, and I my book. 

During the summer season the King sometimes came to the residence ofMesdames before the hour of his 'debotter'. One day he found me alone inMadame Victoire's closet, and asked me where 'Coche'[Piggy] was; Istarted, and he repeated his question, but without being at all the moreunderstood. When the King was gone I asked Madame of whom he spoke. Shetold me that it was herself, and very coolly explained to me, that, beingthe fattest of his daughters, the King had given her the familiar name of'Coche'; that he called Madame Adelaide, 'Logue' [Tatters], Madame Sophie, 'Graille'[Mite], and Madame Louise, 'Chiffie'[Rubbish]. The people of theKing's household observed that he knew a great number of such words;possibly he had amused himself with picking them out from dictionaries. If this style of speaking betrayed the habits and tastes of the King, hismanner savoured nothing of such vulgarity; his walk was easy and noble, hehad a dignified carriage of the head, and his aspect, with out beingsevere, was imposing; he combined great politeness with a truly regaldemeanour, and gracefully saluted the humblest woman whom curiosity ledinto his path. 

He was very expert in a number of trifling matters which never occupyattention but when there is a lack of something better to employ it; forinstance, he would knock off the top of an egg-shell at a single stroke ofhis fork; he therefore always ate eggs when he dined in public, and theParisians who came on Sundays to see the King dine, returned home lessstruck with his fine figure than with the dexterity with which he brokehis eggs. 

Repartees of Louis XV. , which marked the keenness of his wit and theelevation of his sentiments, were quoted with pleasure in the assembliesof Versailles. 

This Prince was still beloved; it was wished that a style of life suitableto his age and dignity should at length supersede the errors of the past, and justify the love of his subjects. It was painful to judge himharshly. If he had established avowed mistresses at Court, the uniformdevotion of the Queen was blamed for it. Mesdames were reproached for notseeking to prevent the King's forming an intimacy with some new favourite. Madame Henriette, twin sister of the Duchess of Parma, was much regretted, for she had considerable influence over the King's mind, and it wasremarked that if she had lived she would have been assiduous in findinghim amusements in the bosom of his family, would have followed him in hisshort excursions, and would have done the honours of the 'petits soupers'which he was so fond of giving in his private apartments. 

Mesdames too much neglected the means of pleasing the wing, but the causeof that was obvious in the little attention he had paid them in theiryouth. 

In order to console the people under their sufferings, and to shut theireyes to the real depredations on the treasury, the ministers occasionallypressed the most extravagant measures of reform in the King's household, and even in his personal expenses. 

Cardinal Fleury, who in truth had the merit of reestablishing thefinances, carried this system of economy so far as to obtain from the Kingthe suppression of the household of the four younger Princesses. They werebrought up as mere boarders in a convent eighty leagues distant from theCourt. Saint Cyr would have been more suitable for the reception of theKing's daughters; but probably the Cardinal shared some of thoseprejudices which will always attach to even the most useful institutions, and which, since the death of Louis XIV. , had been raised against thenoble establishment of Madame de Maintenon. Madame Louise often assuredme that at twelve years of age she was not mistress of the whole alphabet, and never learnt to read fluently until after her return to Versailles. 

Madame Victoire attributed certain paroxysms of terror, which she wasnever able to conquer, to the violent alarms she experienced at the Abbeyof Fontevrault, whenever she was sent, by way of penance, to pray alone inthe vault where the sisters were interred. 

A gardener belonging to the abbey died raving mad. His habitation, without the walls, was near a chapel of the abbey, where Mesdames weretaken to repeat the prayers for those in the agonies of death. Theirprayers were more than once interrupted by the shrieks of the dying man. 

When Mesdames, still very young, returned to Court, they enjoyed thefriendship of Monseigneur the Dauphin, and profited by his advice. Theydevoted themselves ardently to study, and gave up almost the whole oftheir time to it; they enabled themselves to write French correctly, andacquired a good knowledge of history. Italian, English, the higherbranches of mathematics, turning and dialing, filled up in successiontheir leisure moments. Madame Adelaide, in particular, had a mostinsatiable desire to learn; she was taught to play upon all instruments, from the horn (will it be believed!) to the Jew's-harp. 

Madame Adelaide was graced for a short time with a charming figure; butnever did beauty so quickly vanish. Madame Victoire was handsome and verygraceful; her address, mien, and smile were in perfect accordance with thegoodness of her heart. Madame Sophie was remarkably ugly; never did Ibehold a person with so unprepossessing an appearance; she walked with thegreatest rapidity; and, in order to recognise the people who placedthemselves along her path without looking at them, she acquired the habitof leering on one side, like a hare. This Princess was so exceedinglydiffident that a person might be with her daily for years together withouthearing her utter a single word. It was asserted, however, that shedisplayed talent, and even amiability, in the society of some favouriteladies. She taught herself a great deal, but she studied alone; thepresence of a reader would have disconcerted her very much. There were, however, occasions on which the Princess, generally so intractable, becameall at once affable and condescending, and manifested the mostcommunicative good-nature; this would happen during a storm; so great washer alarm on such an occasion that she then approached the most humble, and would ask them a thousand obliging questions; a flash of lightningmade her squeeze their hands; a peal of thunder would drive her to embracethem, but with the return of the calm, the Princess resumed her stiffness, her reserve, and her repellent air, and passed all by without taking theslightest notice of any one, until a fresh storm restored to her at onceher dread and her affability. [Which reminds one of the elder (andpuritanic) Cato who said that he "embraced" his wife only when itthundered, but added that he did enjoy a good thunderstorm. D. W. ]

Mesdames found in a beloved brother, whose rare attainments are known toall Frenchmen, a guide in everything wanting to their education. In theiraugust mother, Maria Leczinska, they possessed the noblest example ofevery pious and social virtue; that Princess, by her eminent qualities andher modest dignity, veiled the failings of the King, and while she livedshe preserved in the Court of Louis XV. That decorous and dignified tonewhich alone secures the respect due to power. The Princesses, herdaughters, were worthy of her; and if a few degraded beings did aim theshafts of calumny at them, these shafts dropped harmless, warded off bythe elevation of their sentiments and the purity of their conduct. 

If Mesdames had not tasked themselves with numerous occupations, theywould have been much to be pitied. They loved walking, but could enjoynothing beyond the public gardens of Versailles; they would havecultivated flowers, but could have no others than those in their windows. 

The Marquise de Durfort, since Duchesse de Civrac, afforded to MadameVictoire agreeable society. The Princess spent almost all her eveningswith that lady, and ended by fancying herself domiciled with her. 

Madame de Narbonne had, in a similar way, taken pains to make her intimateacquaintance pleasant to Madame Adelaide. 

Madame Louise had for many years lived in great seclusion; I read to herfive hours a day. My voice frequently betrayed the exhaustion of mylungs; the Princess would then prepare sugared water for me, place it byme, and apologise for making me read so long, on the score of havingprescribed a course of reading for herself. 

One evening, while I was reading, she was informed that M. Bertin, 'ministre des parties casuelles', desired to speak with her; she went outabruptly, returned, resumed her silks and embroidery, and made me resumemy book; when I retired she commanded me to be in her closet the nextmorning at eleven o'clock. When I got there the Princess was gone out; Ilearnt that she had gone at seven in the morning to the Convent of theCarmelites of St. Denis, where she was desirous of taking the veil. I wentto Madame Victoire; there I heard that the King alone had been acquaintedwith Madame Louise's project; that he had kept it faithfully secret, andthat, having long previously opposed her wish, he had only on thepreceding evening sent her his consent; that she had gone alone into theconvent, where she was expected; and that a few minutes afterwards she hadmade her appearance at the grating, to show to the Princesse de Guistel, who had accompanied her to the convent gate, and to her equerry, theKing's order to leave her in the monastery. 

Upon receiving the intelligence of her sister's departure, Madame Adelaidegave way to violent paroxysms of rage, and reproached the King bitterlyfor the secret, which he had thought it his duty to preserve. MadameVictoire missed the society of her favourite sister, but she shed tears insilence only. The first time I saw this excellent Princess after MadameLouise's departure, I threw myself at her feet, kissed her hand, and askedher, with all the confidence of youth, whether she would quit us as MadameLouise had done. She raised me, embraced me; and said, pointing to thelounge upon which she was extended, "Make yourself easy, my dear; I shallnever have Louise's courage. I love the conveniences of life too well;this lounge is my destruction. " As soon as I obtained permission to doso, I went to St. Denis to see my late mistress; she deigned to receive mewith her face uncovered, in her private parlour; she told me she had justleft the wash-house, and that it was her turn that day to attend to thelinen. "I much abused your youthful lungs for two years before theexecution of my project, " added she. "I knew that here I could read nonebut books tending to our salvation, and I wished to review all thehistorians that had interested me. "

She informed me that the King's consent for her to go to St. Denis hadbeen brought to her while I was reading; she prided herself, and withreason, upon having returned to her closet without the slightest mark ofagitation, though she said she felt so keenly that she could scarcelyregain her chair. She added that moralists were right when they said thathappiness does not dwell in palaces; that she had proved it; and that, ifI desired to be happy, she advised me to come and enjoy a retreat in whichthe liveliest imagination might find full exercise in the contemplation ofa better world. I had no palace, no earthly grandeur to sacrifice to God;nothing but the bosom of a united family; and it is precisely there thatthe moralists whom she cited have placed true happiness. I replied that, in private life, the absence of a beloved and cherished daughter would betoo cruelly felt by her family. The Princess said no more on the subject. 

The seclusion of Madame Louise was attributed to various motives; somewere unkind enough to suppose it to have been occasioned by hermortification at being, in point of rank, the last of the Princesses. Ithink I penetrated the true cause. Her aspirations were lofty; she lovedeverything sublime; often while I was reading she would interrupt me toexclaim, "That is beautiful! that is noble!" There was but one brilliantaction that she could perform, --to quit a palace for a cell, and richgarments for a stuff gown. She achieved it!

I saw Madame Louise two or three times more at the grating. I wasinformed of her death by Louis XVI. "My Aunt Louise, " said he to me, "your old mistress, is just dead at St. Denis. I have this momentreceived intelligence of it. Her piety and resignation were admirable, and yet the delirium of my good aunt recalled to her recollection that shewas a princess, for her last words were, 'To paradise, haste, haste, fullspeed. ' No doubt she thought she was again giving orders to her equerry. "

[The retirement of Madame Louise, and her removal from Court, had onlyserved to give her up entirely to the intrigues of the clergy. Shereceived incessant visits from bishops, archbishops, and ambitious priestsof every rank; she prevailed on the King, her father, to grant manyecclesiastical preferments, and probably looked forward to playing animportant part when the King, weary of his licentious course of life, should begin to think of religion. This, perhaps, might have been the casehad not a sudden and unexpected death put an end to his career. Theproject of Madame Louise fell to the ground in consequence of this event. She remained in her convent, whence she continued to solicit favours, as Iknew from the complaints of the Queen, who often said to me, "Here isanother letter from my Aunt Louise. She is certainly the most intriguinglittle Carmelite in the kingdom. " The Court went to visit her about threetimes a year, and I recollect that the Queen, intending to take herdaughter there, ordered me to get a doll dressed like a Carmelite for her, that the young Princess might be accustomed, before she went into theconvent, to the habit of her aunt, the nun. --MADAME CAMPAN]

Madame Victoire, good, sweet-tempered, and affable, lived with the mostamiable simplicity in a society wherein she was much caressed; she wasadored by her household. Without quitting Versailles, without sacrificingher easy chair, she fulfilled the duties of religion with punctuality, gave to the poor all she possessed, and strictly observed Lent and thefasts. The table of Mesdames acquired a reputation for dishes ofabstinence, spread abroad by the assiduous parasites at that of theirmaitre d'hotel. Madame Victoire was not indifferent to good living, butshe had the most religious scruples respecting dishes of which it wasallowable to partake at penitential times. I saw her one day exceedinglytormented by her doubts about a water-fowl, which was often served up toher during Lent. The question to be determined was, whether it was'maigre' or 'gras'. She consulted a bishop, who happened to be of theparty: the prelate immediately assumed the grave attitude of a judge whois about to pronounce sentence. He answered the Princess that, in asimilar case of doubt, it had been resolved that after dressing the birdit should be pricked over a very cold silver dish; if the gravy of theanimal congealed within a quarter of an hour, the creature was to beaccounted flesh; but if the gravy remained in an oily state, it might beeaten without scruple. Madame Victoire immediately made the experiment:the gravy did not congeal; and this was a source of great joy to thePrincess, who was very partial to that sort of game. The abstinence whichso much occupied the attention of Madame Victoire was so disagreeable toher, that she listened with impatience for the midnight hour of HolySaturday; and then she was immediately supplied with a good dish of fowland rice, and sundry other succulent viands. She confessed with suchamiable candour her taste for good cheer and the comforts of life, that itwould have been necessary to be as severe in principle as insensible tothe excellent qualities of the Princess, to consider it a crime in her. 

Madame Adelaide had more mind than Madame Victoire; but she was altogetherdeficient in that kindness which alone creates affection for the great, abrupt manners, a harsh voice, and a short way of speaking, rendering hermore than imposing. She carried the idea of the prerogative of rank to ahigh pitch. One of her chaplains was unlucky enough to say 'Dominusvobiscum' with rather too easy an air; the Princess rated him soundly forit after mass, and told him to remember that he was not a bishop, and notagain to think of officiating in the style of a prelate. 

Mesdames lived quite separate from the King. Since the death of Madame dePompadour he had lived alone. The enemies of the Duc de Choiseul did notknow in what department, nor through what channel, they could prepare andbring about the downfall of the man who stood in their way. The King wasconnected only with women of so low a class that they could not be madeuse of for any delicate intrigue; moreover, the Parc-aux-Cerfs was aseraglio, the beauties of which were often replaced; it was desirable togive the King a mistress who could form a circle, and in whosedrawing-room the long-standing attachment of the King for the Duc deChoiseul might be overcome. It is true that Madame du Barry was selectedfrom a class sufficiently low. Her origin, her education, her habits, andeverything about her bore a character of vulgarity and shamelessness; butby marrying her to a man whose pedigree dated from 1400, it was thoughtscandal would be avoided. The conqueror of Mahon conducted this coarseintrigue. 

[It appeared at this period as if every feeling of dignity was lost. "Fewnoblemen of the French Court, " says a writer of the time, "preservedthemselves from the general corruption. The Marechal de Brissac was oneof the latter. He was bantered on the strictness of his principles ofhonour and honesty; it was thought strange that he should be offended bybeing thought, like so many others, exposed to hymeneal disgrace. LouisXV. , who was present, and laughed at his angry fit, said to him: 'Come, M. De Brissac, don't be angry; 'tis but a trifling evil; takecourage. '--'Sire, ' replied M. De Brissac, 'I possess all kinds of courage, except that which can brave shame. '"--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Such a mistress was judiciously selected for the diversion of the latteryears of a man weary of grandeur, fatigued with pleasure, and cloyed withvoluptuousness. Neither the wit, the talents, the graces of the Marquisede Pompadour, her beauty, nor even her love for the King, would have hadany further influence over that worn-out being. 

He wanted a Roxalana of familiar gaiety, without any respect for thedignity of the sovereign. Madame du Barry one day so far forgot proprietyas to desire to be present at a Council of State. The King was weakenough to consent to it. There she remained ridiculously perched upon thearm of his chair, playing all sorts of childish monkey tricks, calculatedto please an old sultan. 

Another time she snatched a packet of sealed letters from the King's hand. Among them she had observed one from Comte de Broglie. She told the Kingthat she knew that rascal Broglie spoke ill of her to him, and that foronce, at least, she would make sure he should read nothing respecting her. The King wanted to get the packet again; she resisted, and made him runtwo or three times round the table, which was in the middle of thecouncil-chamber, and then, on passing the fireplace, she threw the lettersinto the grate, where they were consumed. The King became furious; heseized his audacious mistress by the arm, and put her out of the doorwithout speaking to her. Madame du Barry thought herself utterlydisgraced; she returned home, and remained two hours, alone, abandoned tothe utmost distress. The King went to her; she threw herself at his feet, in tears, and he pardoned her. 

Madame la Marechale de Beauvau, the Duchesse de Choiseul, and the Duchessede Grammont had renounced the honour of the King's intimate acquaintancerather than share it with Madame du Barry. But a few years after thedeath of Louis XV. , Madame la Marechale being alone at the Val, a housebelonging to M. De Beauvau, Mademoiselle de Dillon saw the Countess'scalash take shelter in the forest of St. Germain during a violent storm. She invited her in, and the Countess herself related these particulars, which I had from Madame de Beauvau. 

The Comte du Barry, surnamed 'le roue' (the profligate), and Mademoiselledu Barry advised, or rather prompted, Madame du Barry in furtherance ofthe plans of the party of the Marechal de Richelieu and the Ducd'Aiguillon. Sometimes they even set her to act in such a way as to havea useful influence upon great political measures. Under pretence that thepage who accompanied Charles I. In his flight was a Du Barry or Barrymore, they persuaded the Comtesse du Barry to buy in London that fine portraitwhich we now have in the Museum. She had the picture placed in herdrawing-room, and when she saw the King hesitating upon the violentmeasure of breaking up his Parliament, and forming that which was calledthe Maupeou Parliament, she desired him to look at the portrait of a kingwho had given way to his Parliament. 

[The "Memoirs of General Dumouriez, " vol. I. , page 142, contain somecurious particulars about Madame Du Barry; and novel details respectingher will be found at page 243 of "Curiosites Historiques, " by J. A. Le Rol(Paris, Plon, 1864). His investigations lead to the result that her realname was Jean Becu, born, 19th August, 1743, at Vaucouleurs, the naturaldaughter of Anne Becu, otherwise known as "Quantiny. " Her motherafterwards married Nicolas Rancon. Comte Jean du Barry met her among thedemi-monde, and succeeded, about 1767, and by the help of his friendLabel, the valet de chambre of Louis XV. , in introducing her to the Kingunder the name of Mademoiselle l'Ange. To be formally mistress, a husbandhad to be found. The Comte Jean du Barry, already married himself, foundno difficulty in getting his brother, Comte Guillaume, a poor officer ofthe marine troops, to accept the post of husband. In themarriage-contract, signed on 23d July, 1768, she was described as "thedaughter of Anne Becu and of an imaginary first husband, Sieur JeanJacques Gomard de Vaubernier, " and three years were taken off her age. The marriage-contract was so drawn as to leave Madame du Barry entirelyfree from all control by her husband. The marriage was solemnised on 1stSeptember, 1768, after which the nominal husband returned to Toulouse. Madame du Barry in later years provided for him; and in 1772, tired of hisapplications, she obtained an act of separation from him. He marriedlater Jeanne Madeleine Lemoine, and died in 1811. Madame du Barry tookcare of her mother, who figured as Madame de Montrable. In all, shereceived from the King, M. Le Roi calculates, about twelve and a halfmillions of livres. On the death of Louis XV. She had to retire first tothe Abbey of Pont-aux-Dames, near Meaux, then she was allowed to go to hersmall house at St. Vrain, near Arpajon, and, finally, in 1775, to herchateau at Louveciennes. Much to her credit be it said, she retained manyof her friends, and was on the most intimate terms till his death with theDuc de Brissac (Louis Hercule Timoldon de Cosse-Brissac), who was killedat Versailles in the massacre of the prisoners in September, 1792, leavingat his death a large legacy to her. Even the Emperor Joseph visited her. In 1791 many of her jewels were stolen and taken to England. This causedher to make several visits to that country, where she gained her suit. But these visits, though she took every precaution to legalise them, ruined her. Betrayed by her servants, among them by Zamor, the negropage, she was brought before the Revolutionary tribunal, and wasguillotined on 8th December, 1793, in a frenzy of terror, calling formercy and for delay up to the moment when her head fell. ]

The men of ambition who were labouring to overthrow the Duc de Choiseulstrengthened themselves by their concentration at the house of thefavourite, and succeeded in their project. The bigots, who never forgavethat minister the suppression of the Jesuits, and who had always beenhostile to a treaty of alliance with Austria, influenced the minds ofMesdames. The Duc de La Vauguyon, the young Dauphin's governor, infectedthem with the same prejudices. 

Such was the state of the public mind when the young Archduchess MarieAntoinette arrived at the Court of Versailles, just at the moment when theparty which brought her there was about to be overthrown. 

Madame Adelaide openly avowed her dislike to a princess of the House ofAustria; and when M. Campan, my father-in-law, went to receive his orders, at the moment of setting off with the household of the Dauphiness, to goand receive the Archduchess upon the frontiers, she said she disapprovedof the marriage of her nephew with an archduchess; and that, if she hadthe direction of the matter, she would not send for an Austrian. 

CHAPTER II. 

MARIE ANTOINETTE JOSEPHE JEANNE DE LORRAINE, Archduchess of Austria, daughter of Francois de Lorraine and of Maria Theresa, was born on the 2dof November, 1755, the day of the earthquake at Lisbon; and thiscatastrophe, which appeared to stamp the era of her birth with a fatalmark, without forming a motive for superstitious fear with the Princess, nevertheless made an impression upon her mind. As the Empress already hada great number of daughters, she ardently desired to have another son, andplayfully wagered against her wish with the Duc de Tarouka, who hadinsisted that she would give birth to an archduke. He lost by the birthof the Princess, and had executed in porcelain a figure with one knee benton the earth, and presenting tablets, upon which the following lines byMetastasio were engraved:

I lose by your fair daughter's birthWho prophesied a son;But if she share her mother's worth, Why, all the world has won!

The Queen was fond of talking of the first years of her youth. Herfather, the Emperor Francis, had made a deep impression upon her heart;she lost him when she was scarcely seven years old. One of thosecircumstances which fix themselves strongly in the memories of childrenfrequently recalled his last caresses to her. The Emperor was setting outfor Innspruck; he had already left his palace, when he ordered a gentlemanto fetch the Archduchess Marie Antoinette, and bring her to his carriage. When she came, he stretched out his arms to receive her, and said, afterhaving pressed her to his bosom, "I wanted to embrace this child oncemore. " The Emperor died suddenly during the journey, and never saw hisbeloved daughter again. 

The Queen often spoke of her mother, and with profound respect, but shebased all her schemes for the education of her children on the essentialswhich had been neglected in her own. Maria Theresa, who inspired awe byher great qualities, taught the Archduchesses to fear and respect ratherthan to love her; at least I observed this in the Queen's feelings towardsher august mother. She therefore never desired to place between her ownchildren and herself that distance which had existed in the imperialfamily. She cited a fatal consequence of it, which had made such apowerful impression upon her that time had never been able to efface it. 

The wife of the Emperor Joseph II. Was taken from him in a few days by anattack of smallpox of the most virulent kind. Her coffin had recentlybeen deposited in the vault of the imperial family. The ArchduchessJosepha, who had been betrothed to the King of Naples, at the instant shewas quitting Vienna received an order from the Empress not to set offwithout having offered up a prayer in the vault of her forefathers. TheArchduchess, persuaded that she should take the disorder to which hersister-in-law had just fallen a victim, looked upon this order as herdeath-warrant. She loved the young Archduchess Marie Antoinette tenderly;she took her upon her knees, embraced her with tears, and told her she wasabout to leave her, not for Naples, but never to see her again; that shewas going down then to the tomb of her ancestors, and that she shouldshortly go again there to remain. Her anticipation was realised;confluent smallpox carried her off in a very few days, and her youngestsister ascended the throne of Naples in her place. 

The Empress was too much taken up with high political interests to have itin her power to devote herself to maternal attentions. The celebratedWansvietten, her physician, went daily, to visit the young imperialfamily, and afterwards to Maria Theresa, and gave the most minute detailsrespecting the health of the Archdukes and Archduchesses, whom she herselfsometimes did not see for eight or ten days at a time. As soon as thearrival of a stranger of rank at Vienna was made known, the Empressbrought her family about her, admitted them to her table, and by thisconcerted meeting induced a belief that she herself presided over theeducation of her children. 

The chief governesses, being under no fear of inspection from MariaTheresa, aimed at making themselves beloved by their pupils by the commonand blamable practice of indulgence, so fatal to the future progress andhappiness of children. Marie Antoinette was the cause of her governessbeing dismissed, through a confession that all her copies and all herletters were invariably first traced out with pencil; the Comtesse deBrandes was appointed to succeed her, and fulfilled her duties with greatexactness and talent. The Queen looked upon having been confided to hercare so late as a misfortune, and always continued upon terms offriendship with that lady. The education of Marie Antoinette wascertainly very much neglected. With the exception of the Italianlanguage, all that related to belles lettres, and particularly to history, even that of her own country, was almost entirely unknown to her. Thiswas soon found out at the Court of France, and thence arose the generallyreceived opinion that she was deficient in sense. It will be seen in thecourse of these "Memoirs" whether that opinion was well or ill founded. The public prints, however, teemed with assertions of the superior talentsof Maria Theresa's children. They often noticed the answers which theyoung Princesses gave in Latin to the harangues addressed to them; theyuttered them, it is true, but without understanding them; they knew not asingle word of that language. 

Mention was one day made to the Queen of a drawing made by her, andpresented by the Empress to M. Gerard, chief clerk of Foreign Affairs, onthe occasion of his going to Vienna to draw up the articles for hermarriage-contract. "I should blush, " said she, "if that proof of thequackery of my education were shown to me. I do not believe that I everput a pencil to that drawing. " However, what had been taught her she knewperfectly well. Her facility of learning was inconceivable, and if allher teachers had been as well informed and as faithful to their duty asthe Abbe Metastasio, who taught her Italian, she would have attained asgreat a superiority in the other branches of her education. The Queenspoke that language with grace and ease, and translated the most difficultpoets. She did not write French correctly, but she spoke it with thegreatest fluency, and even affected to say that she had lost German. Infact she attempted in 1787 to learn her mother-tongue, and took lessonsassiduously for six weeks; she was obliged to relinquish them, finding allthe difficulties which a Frenchwoman, who should take up the study toolate, would have to encounter. In the same manner she gave up English, which I had taught her for some time, and in which she had made rapidprogress. Music was the accomplishment in which the Queen most delighted. She did not play well on any instrument, but she had become able to readat sight like a first-rate professor. She attained this degree ofperfection in France, this branch of her education having been neglectedat Vienna as much as the rest. A few days after her arrival atVersailles, she was introduced to her singing-master, La Garde, author ofthe opera of "Egle. " She made a distant appointment with him, needing, asshe said, rest after the fatigues of the journey and the numerous feteswhich had taken place at Versailles; but her motive was her desire toconceal how ignorant she was of the rudiments of music. She asked M. Campan whether his son, who was a good musician, could give her lessonssecretly for three months. "The Dauphiness, " added she, smiling, "must becareful of the reputation of the Archduchess. " The lessons were givenprivately, and at the end of three months of constant application she sentfor M. La Garde, and surprised him by her skill. 

The desire to perfect Marie Antoinette in the study of the French languagewas probably the motive which determined Maria Theresa to provide for heras teachers two French actors: Aufresne, for pronunciation anddeclamation, and Sainville, for taste in French singing; the latter hadbeen an officer in France, and bore a bad character. The choice gave justumbrage to our Court. The Marquis de Durfort, at that time ambassador atVienna, was ordered to make a representation to the Empress upon herselection. The two actors were dismissed, and the Princess required thatan ecclesiastic should be sent to her. Several eminent ecclesiasticsdeclined taking upon themselves so delicate an office; others who werepointed out by Maria Theresa (among the rest the Abbe Grisel) belonged toparties which sufficed to exclude them. 

The Archbishop of Toulouse one day went to the Duc de Choiseul at themoment when he was much embarrassed upon the subject of this nomination;he proposed to him the Abby de Vermond, librarian of the College desQuatre Nations. The eulogistic manner in which he spoke of his protegeprocured the appointment for the latter on that very day; and thegratitude of the Abbe de Vermond towards the prelate was very fatal toFrance, inasmuch as after seventeen years of persevering attempts to bringhim into the ministry, he succeeded at last in getting him namedComptroller-General and President of the Council. --[Comte de Brienne, later Archbishop of Sens. ]

This Abbe de Vermond directed almost all the Queen's actions. Heestablished his influence over her at an age when impressions are mostdurable; and it was easy to see that he had taken pains only to renderhimself beloved by his pupil, and had troubled himself very little withthe care of instructing her. He might have even been accused of having, by a sharp-sighted though culpable policy, purposely left her inignorance. Marie Antoinette spoke the French language with much grace, but wrote it less perfectly. The Abbe de Vermond revised all the letterswhich she sent to Vienna. The insupportable folly with which he boastedof it displayed the character of a man more flattered at being admittedinto her intimate secrets than anxious to fulfil worthily the high officeof her preceptor. 

[The Abbe de Vermond encouraged the impatience of etiquette shown by MarieAntoinette while she was Dauphiness. When she became Queen he endeavouredopenly to induce her to shake off the restraints she still respected. Ifhe chanced to enter her apartment at the time she was preparing to go out, "For whom, " he would say, in a tone of raillery, "is this detachment ofwarriors which I found in the court? Is it some general going to inspecthis army? Does all this military display become a young Queen adored byher subjects?" He would call to her mind the simplicity with which MariaTheresa lived; the visits she made without guards, or even attendants, tothe Prince d'Esterhazy, to the Comte de Palfi, passing whole days far fromthe fatiguing ceremonies of the Court. The Abbe thus artfully flatteredthe inclinations of Marie Antoinette, and showed her how she mightdisguise, even from herself, her aversion for the ceremonies observed bythe descendants of Louis XIV. -MADAME CAMPAN. ]

His pride received its birth at Vienna, where Maria Theresa, as much togive him authority with the Archduchess as to make herself acquainted withhis character, permitted him to mix every evening with the private circleof her family, into which the future Dauphiness had been admitted for sometime. Joseph II. , the elder Archduchess, and a few noblemen honoured bythe confidence of Maria Theresa, composed the party; and reflections onthe world, on courts, and the duties of princes were the usual topics ofconversation. The Abbe de Vermond, in relating these particulars, confessed the means which he had made use of to gain admission into thisprivate circle. The Empress, meeting him at the Archduchess's, asked himif he had formed any connections in Vienna. "None, Madame, " replied he;"the apartment of the Archduchess and the hotel of the ambassador ofFrance are the only places which the man honoured with the care of thePrincess's education should frequent. " A month afterwards Maria Theresa, through a habit common enough among sovereigns, asked him the samequestion, and received precisely the same answer. The next day hereceived an order to join the imperial family every evening. 

It is extremely probable, from the constant and well-known intercoursebetween this man and Comte de Mercy, ambassador of the Empire during thewhole reign of Louis XVI. , that he was useful to the Court of Vienna, andthat he often caused the Queen to decide on measures, the consequences ofwhich she did not consider. Not of high birth, imbued with all theprinciples of the modern philosophy, and yet holding to the hierarchy ofthe Church more tenaciously than any other ecclesiastic; vain, talkative, and at the same time cunning and abrupt; very ugly and affectingsingularity; treating the most exalted persons as his equals, sometimeseven as his inferiors, the Abbe de Vermond received ministers and bishopswhen in his bath; but said at the same time that Cardinal Dubois was afool; that a man such as he, having obtained power, ought to makecardinals, and refuse to be one himself. 

Intoxicated with the reception he had met with at the Court of Vienna, andhaving till then seen nothing of high life, the Abbe de Vermond admired noother customs than those of the imperial family; he ridiculed theetiquette of the House of Bourbon incessantly; the young Dauphiness wasconstantly incited by his sarcasms to get rid of it, and it was he whofirst induced her to suppress an infinity of practices of which he coulddiscern neither the prudence nor the political aim. Such is the faithfulportrait of that man whom the evil star of Marie Antoinette had reservedto guide her first steps upon a stage so conspicuous and so full of dangeras that of the Court of Versailles. 

It will be thought, perhaps, that I draw the character of the Abbe deVermond too unfavourably; but how can I view with any complacency one who, after having arrogated to himself the office of confidant and solecounsellor of the Queen, guided her with so little prudence, and gave usthe mortification of seeing that Princess blend, with qualities whichcharmed all that surrounded her, errors alike injurious to her glory andher happiness?

While M. De Choiseul, satisfied with the person whom M. De Brienne hadpresented, despatched him to Vienna with every eulogium calculated toinspire unbounded confidence, the Marquis de Durfort sent off ahairdresser and a few French fashions; and then it was thought sufficientpains had been taken to form the character of a princess destined to sharethe throne of France. 

The marriage of Monseigneur the Dauphin with the Archduchess wasdetermined upon during the administration of the Duc de Choiseul. TheMarquis de Durfort, who was to succeed the Baron de Breteuil in theembassy to Vienna, was appointed proxy for the marriage ceremony; but sixmonths after the Dauphin's marriage the Duc de Choiseul was disgraced, andMadame de Marsan and Madame de Guemenee, who grew more powerful throughthe Duke's disgrace, conferred that embassy, upon Prince Louis de Rohan, afterwards cardinal and grand almoner. 

Hence it will be seen that the Gazette de France is a sufficient answer tothose libellers who dared to assert that the young Archduchess wasacquainted with the Cardinal de Rohan before the period of her marriage. Aworse selection in itself, or one more disagreeable to Maria Theresa, thanthat which sent to her, in quality, of ambassador, a man so frivolous andso immoral as Prince Louis de Rohan, could not have been made. Hepossessed but superficial knowledge upon any subject, and was totallyignorant of diplomatic affairs. His reputation had gone before him toVienna, and his mission opened under the most unfavourable auspices. Inwant of money, and the House of Rohan being unable to make him anyconsiderable advances, he obtained from his Court a patent whichauthorised him to borrow the sum of 600, 000 livres upon his benefices, ranin debt above a million, and thought to dazzle the city and Court ofVienna by the most indecent and ill-judged extravagance. He formed asuite of eight or ten gentlemen, of names sufficiently high-sounding;twelve pages equally well born, a crowd of officers and servants, acompany of chamber musicians, etc. But this idle pomp did not last;embarrassment and distress soon showed themselves; his people, no longerreceiving pay, in order to make money, abused the privileges ofambassadors, and smuggled with so much effrontery that Maria Theresa, toput a stop to it without offending the Court of France, was compelled tosuppress the privileges in this respect of all the diplomatic bodies, astep which rendered the person and conduct of Prince Louis odious inevery foreign Court. 

[I have often heard the Queen say that, at Vienna, in the office of thesecretary of the Prince de Rohan, there were sold in one year more silkstockings than at Lyons and Paris together. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

He seldom obtained private audiences from the Empress, who did not esteemhim, and who expressed herself without reserve upon his conduct both as abishop and as an ambassador. He thought to obtain favour by assisting toeffect the marriage of the Archduchess Elizabeth, the elder sister ofMarie Antoinette, with Louis XV. , an affair which was awkwardlyundertaken, and of which Madame du Barry had no difficulty in causing thefailure. I have deemed it my duty to omit no particular of the moral andpolitical character of a man whose existence was subsequently so injuriousto the reputation of Marie Antoinette. 

CHAPTER III. 

A superb pavilion had been prepared upon the frontier near Kehl. Itconsisted of a vast salon, connected with two apartments, one of which wasassigned to the lords and ladies of the Court of Vienna, and the other tothe suite of the Dauphiness, composed of the Comtesse de Noailles, herlady of honour; the Duchesse de Cosse, her dame d'atours; four ladies ofthe palace; the Comte de Saulx-Tavannes, chevalier d'honneur; the Comte deTesse, first equerry; the Bishop of Chartres, first almoner; the officersof the Body Guard, and the equerries. 

When the Dauphiness had been entirely undressed, in order that she mightretain nothing belonging to a foreign Court (an etiquette always observedon such an occasion), the doors were opened; the young Princess cameforward, looking round for the Comtesse de Noailles; then, rushing intoher arms, she implored her, with tears in her eyes, and with heartfeltsincerity, to be her guide and support. 

While doing justice to the virtues of the Comtesse de Noailles, thosesincerely attached to the Queen have always considered it as one of herearliest misfortunes not to have found, in the person of her adviser, awoman indulgent, enlightened, and administering good advice with thatamiability which disposes young persons to follow it. The Comtesse deNoailles had nothing agreeable in her appearance; her demeanour was stiffand her mien severe. She was perfect mistress of etiquette; but shewearied the young Princess with it, without making her sensible of itsimportance. It would have been sufficient to represent to the Dauphinessthat in France her dignity depended much upon customs not necessary atVienna to secure the respect and love of the good and submissive Austriansfor the imperial family; but the Dauphiness was perpetually tormented bythe remonstrances of the Comtesse de Noailles, and at the same time wasled by the Abbe de Vermond to ridicule both the lessons upon etiquette andher who gave them. She preferred raillery to argument, and nicknamed theComtesse de Noailles Madame l'Etiquette. 

The fetes which were given at Versailles on the marriage of the Dauphinwere very splendid. The Dauphiness arrived there at the hour for hertoilet, having slept at La Muette, where Louis XV. Had been to receiveher; and where that Prince, blinded by a feeling unworthy of a sovereignand the father of a family, caused the young Princess, the royal family, and the ladies of the Court, to sit down to supper with Madame du Barry. 

The Dauphiness was hurt at this conduct; she spoke of it openly enough tothose with whom she was intimate, but she knew how to conceal herdissatisfaction in public, and her behaviour showed no signs of it. 

She was received at Versailles in an apartment on the ground floor, underthat of the late Queen, which was not ready for her until six months afterher marriage. 

The Dauphiness, then fifteen years of age, beaming with freshness, appeared to all eyes more than beautiful. Her walk partook at once of thedignity of the Princesses of her house, and of the grace of the French;her eyes were mild, her smile amiable. When she went to chapel, as soonas she had taken the first few steps in the long gallery, she discerned, all the way to its extremity, those persons whom she ought to salute withthe consideration due to their rank; those on whom she should bestow aninclination of the head; and lastly, those who were to be satisfied with asmile, calculated to console them for not being entitled to greaterhonours. 

Louis XV. Was enchanted with the young Dauphiness; all his conversationwas about her graces, her vivacity, and the aptness of her repartees. Shewas yet more successful with the royal family when they beheld her shornof the splendour of the diamonds with which she had been adorned duringthe first days of her marriage. When clothed in a light dress of gauze ortaffety she was compared to the Venus dei Medici, and the Atalanta of theMarly Gardens. Poets sang her charms; painters attempted to copy herfeatures. One artist's fancy led him to place the portrait of MarieAntoinette in the heart of a full-blown rose. His ingenious idea wasrewarded by Louis XV. 

The King continued to talk only of the Dauphiness; and Madame du Barryill-naturedly endeavoured to damp his enthusiasm. Whenever MarieAntoinette was the topic, she pointed out the irregularity of herfeatures, criticised the 'bons mots' quoted as hers, and rallied the Kingupon his prepossession in her favour. Madame du Barry was affronted atnot receiving from the Dauphiness those attentions to which she thoughtherself entitled; she did not conceal her vexation from the King; she wasafraid that the grace and cheerfulness of the young Princess would makethe domestic circle of the royal family more agreeable to the oldsovereign, and that he would escape her chains; at the same time, hatredto the Choiseul party contributed powerfully to excite the enmity of thefavourite. 

The fall of that minister took place in November, 1770, six months afterhis long influence in the Council had brought about the alliance with theHouse of Austria and the arrival of Marie Antoinette at the Court ofFrance. The Princess, young, frank, volatile, and inexperienced, foundherself without any other guide than the Abbe de Vermond, in a Court ruledby the enemy of the minister who had brought her there, and in the midstof people who hated Austria, and detested any alliance with the imperialhouse. 

The Duc d'Aiguillon, the Duc de La Vauguyon, the Marechal de Richelieu, the Rohans, and other considerable families, who had made use of Madame duBarry to overthrow the Duke, could not flatter themselves, notwithstandingtheir powerful intrigues, with a hope of being able to break off analliance solemnly announced, and involving such high political interests. They therefore changed their mode of attack, and it will be seen how theconduct of the Dauphin served as a basis for their hopes. 

The Dauphiness continually gave proofs of both sense and feeling. Sometimes she even suffered herself to be carried away by those transportsof compassionate kindness which are not to be controlled by the customswhich rank establishes. 

In consequence of the fire in the Place Louis XV. , which occurred at thetime of the nuptial entertainments, the Dauphin and Dauphiness sent their, whole income for the year to the relief of the unfortunate families wholost their relatives on that disastrous day. 

This was one of those ostentatious acts of generosity which are dictatedby the policy of princes, at least as much as by their compassion; but thegrief of Marie Antoinette was profound, and lasted several days; nothingcould console her for the loss of so many innocent victims; she spoke ofit, weeping, to her ladies, one of whom, thinking, no doubt, to divert hermind, told her that a great number of thieves had been found among thebodies, and that their pockets were filled with watches and othervaluables. "They have at least been well punished, " added the person whorelated these particulars. "Oh, no, no, madame!" replied the Dauphiness;"they died by the side of honest people. "

The Dauphiness had brought from Vienna a considerable number of whitediamonds; the King added to them the gift of the diamonds and pearls ofthe late Dauphiness, and also put into her hands a collar of pearls, of asingle row, the smallest of which was as large as a filbert, and which hadbeen brought into France by Anne of Austria, and appropriated by thatPrincess to the use of the Queens and Dauphinesses of France. 

The three Princesses, daughters of Louis XV. , joined in making hermagnificent presents. Madame Adelaide at the same time gave the youngPrincess a key to the private corridors of the Chateau, by means of which, without any suite, and without being perceived, she could get to theapartments of her aunts, and see them in private. The Dauphiness, onreceiving the key, told them, with infinite grace, that if they had meantto make her appreciate the superb presents they were kind enough to bestowupon her, they should not at the same time have offered her one of suchinestimable value; since to that key she should be indebted for anintimacy and advice unspeakably precious at her age. She did, indeed, make use of it very frequently; but Madame Victoire alone permitted her, so long as she continued Dauphiness, to visit her familiarly. MadameAdelaide could not overcome her prejudices against Austrian princesses, and was wearied with the somewhat petulant gaiety of the Dauphiness. Madame Victoire was concerned at this, feeling that their society andcounsel would have been highly useful to a young person otherwise likelyto meet with none but sycophants. She endeavoured, therefore, to induceher to take pleasure in the society of the Marquise de Durfort, her ladyof honour and favourite. Several agreeable entertainments took place atthe house of this lady, but the Comtesse de Noailles and the Abbe deVermond soon opposed these meetings. 

A circumstance which happened in hunting, near the village of Acheres, inthe forest of Fontainebleau, afforded the young Princess an opportunity ofdisplaying her respect for old age, and her compassion for misfortune. Anaged peasant was wounded by the stag; the Dauphiness jumped out of hercalash, placed the peasant, with his wife and children, in it, had thefamily taken back to their cottage, and bestowed upon them every attentionand every necessary assistance. Her heart was always open to the feelingsof compassion, and the recollection of her rank never restrained hersensibility. Several persons in her service entered her room one evening, expecting to find nobody there but the officer in waiting; they perceivedthe young Princess seated by the side of this man, who was advanced inyears; she had placed near him a bowl full of water, was stanching theblood which issued from a wound he had received in his hand with herhandkerchief, which she had torn up to bind it, and was fulfilling towardshim all the duties of a pious sister of charity. The old man, affectedeven to tears, out of respect allowed his august mistress to act as shethought proper. He had hurt himself in endeavouring to move a ratherheavy piece of furniture at the Princess's request. 

In the month of July, 1770, an unfortunate occurrence that took place in afamily which the Dauphiness honoured with her favour contributed again toshow not only her sensibility but also the benevolence of her disposition. One of her women in waiting had a son who was an officer in the gensd'armes of the guard; this young man thought himself affronted by a clerkin the War Department, and imprudently sent him a challenge; he killed hisadversary in the forest of Compiegne. The family of the young man who waskilled, being in possession of the challenge, demanded justice. The King, distressed on account of several duels which had recently taken place, hadunfortunately declared that he would show no mercy on the first event ofthat kind which could be proved; the culprit was therefore arrested. Hismother, in the deepest grief, hastened to throw herself at the feet of theDauphiness, the Dauphin, and the young Princesses. After an hour'ssupplication they obtained from the King the favour so much desired. Onthe next day a lady of rank, while congratulating the Dauphiness, had themalice to add that the mother had neglected no means of success on theoccasion, having solicited not only the royal family, but even Madame duBarry. The Dauphiness replied that the fact justified the favourableopinion she had formed of the worthy woman; that the heart of a mothershould hesitate at nothing for the salvation of her son; and that in herplace, if she had thought it would be serviceable, she would have thrownherself at the feet of Zamor. 

[A little Indian who carried the Comtesse du Barry's train. Louis XV. Often amused himself with the little marmoset, and jestingly made himGovernor of Louveciennes; he received an annual income of 3, 000 francs. ]

Some time after the marriage entertainments the Dauphiness made her entryinto Paris, and was received with transports of joy. After dining in theKing's apartment at the Tuileries, she was forced, by the reiteratedshouts of the multitude, with whom the garden was filled, to presentherself upon the balcony fronting the principal walk. On seeing such acrowd of heads with their eyes fixed upon her, she exclaimed, "Grand-Dieu!what a concourse!"--"Madame, " said the old Duc de Brissac, the Governor ofParis, "I may tell you, without fear of offending the Dauphin, that theyare so many lovers. " 2 The Dauphin took no umbrage at either acclamationsor marks of homage of which the Dauphiness was the object. The mostmortifying indifference, a coldness which frequently degenerated intorudeness, were the sole feelings which the young Prince then manifestedtowards her. Not all her charms could gain even upon his senses. Thisestrangement, which lasted a long time, was said to be the work of the Ducde La Vauguyon. 

The Dauphiness, in fact, had no sincere friends at Court except the Duc deChoiseul and his party. Will it be credited that the plans laid againstMarie Antoinette went so far as divorce? I have been assured of it bypersons holding high situations at Court, and many circumstances tend toconfirm the opinion. On the journey to Fontainebleau, in the year of themarriage, the inspectors of public buildings were gained over to manage sothat the apartment intended for the Dauphin, communicating with that ofthe Dauphiness, should not be finished, and a room at the extremity of thebuilding was temporarily assigned to him. The Dauphiness, aware that thiswas the result of intrigue, had the courage to complain of it to LouisXV. , who, after severe reprimands, gave orders so positive that within theweek the apartment was ready. Every method was tried to continue oraugment the indifference which the Dauphin long manifested towards hisyouthful spouse. She was deeply hurt at it, but she never sufferedherself to utter the slightest complaint on the subject. Inattention to, even contempt for, the charms which she heard extolled on all sides, nothing induced her to break silence; and some tears, which wouldinvoluntarily burst from her eyes, were the sole symptoms of her inwardsufferings discoverable by those in her service. 

Once only, when tired out with the misplaced remonstrances of an old ladyattached to her person, who wished to dissuade her from riding onhorseback, under the impression that it would prevent her producing heirsto the crown, "Mademoiselle, " said she, "in God's name, leave me in peace;be assured that I can put no heir in danger. "

The Dauphiness found at the Court of Louis XV. , besides the threePrincesses, the King's daughters, the Princes also, brothers of theDauphin, who were receiving their education, and Clotilde and Elisabeth, still in the care of Madame de Marsan, governess of the children ofFrance. The elder of the two latter Princesses, in 1777, married thePrince of Piedmont, afterwards King of Sardinia. This Princess was in herinfancy, so extremely large that the people nicknamed her 'gros Madame. '

[Madame Clotilde of France, a sister of the King, was extraordinarily fatfor her height and age. One of her playfellows, having been indiscreetenough even in her presence to make use of the nickname given to her, received a severe reprimand from the Comtesse de Marsan, who hinted to herthat she would do well in not making her appearance again before thePrincess. Madame Clotilde sent for her the next day: "My governess, " saidshe, "has done her duty, and I will do mine; come and see me as usual, andthink no more of a piece of inadvertence, which I myself have forgotten. "This Princess, so heavy in body, possessed the most agreeable and playfulwit. Her affability and grace rendered her dear to all who came nearher. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR]

The second Princess was the pious Elisabeth, the victim of her respect andtender attachment for the King, her brother. She was still scarcely outof her leading-strings at the period of the Dauphin's marriage. TheDauphiness showed her marked preference. The governess, who sought toadvance the Princess to whom nature had been least favourable, wasoffended at the Dauphiness's partiality for Madame Elisabeth, and by herinjudicious complaints weakened the friendship which yet subsisted betweenMadame Clotilde and Marie Antoinette. There even arose some degree ofrivalry on the subject of education; and that which the Empress MariaTheresa bestowed on her daughters was talked of openly and unfavourablyenough. The Abbe de Vermond thought himself affronted, took a part in thequarrel, and added his complaints and jokes to those of the Dauphiness onthe criticisms of the governess; he even indulged himself in his turn inreflections on the tuition of Madame Clotilde. Everything becomes known atCourt. Madame de Marsan was informed of all that had been said in theDauphiness's circle, and was very angry with her on account of it. 

From that moment a centre of intrigue, or rather gossip, against MarieAntoinette was established round Madame de Marsan's fireside; her mosttrifling actions were there construed ill; her gaiety, and the harmlessamusements in which she sometimes indulged in her own apartments with themore youthful ladies of her train, and even with the women in her service, were stigmatised as criminal. Prince Louis de Rohan, sent through theinfluence of this clique ambassador to Vienna, was the echo there of theseunmerited comments, and threw himself into a series of culpableaccusations which he proffered under the guise of zeal. He ceaselesslyrepresented the young Dauphiness as alienating all hearts by levitiesunsuitable to the dignity of the French Court. The Princess frequentlyreceived from the Court of Vienna remonstrances, of the origin of whichshe could not long remain in ignorance. From this period must be datedthat aversion which she never ceased to manifest for the Prince de Rohan. 

About the same time the Dauphiness received information of a letterwritten by Prince Louis to the Duc d'Aiguillon, in which the ambassadorexpressed himself in very free language respecting the intentions of MariaTheresa with relation to the partition of Poland. This letter of PrinceLouis had been read at the Comtesse du Barry's; the levity of theambassador's correspondence wounded the feelings and the dignity of theDauphiness at Versailles, while at Vienna the representations which hemade to Maria Theresa against the young Princess terminated in renderingthe motives of his incessant complaints suspected by the Empress. 

Maria Theresa at length determined on sending her private secretary, Baronde Neni, to Versailles, with directions to observe the conduct of theDauphiness with attention, and form a just estimate of the opinion of theCourt and of Paris with regard to that Princess. The Baron de Neni, afterhaving devoted sufficient time and intelligence to the subject, undeceivedhis sovereign as to the exaggerations of the French ambassador; and theEmpress had no difficulty in detecting, among the calumnies which he hadconveyed to her under the specious excuse of anxiety for her augustdaughter, proofs of the enmity of a, party which had never approved of thealliance of the House of Bourbon with her own. 

At this period the Dauphiness, though unable to obtain any influence overthe heart of her husband, dreading Louis XV. , and justly mistrustingeverything connected with Madame du Barry and the Duc d'Aiguillon, had notdeserved the slightest reproach for that sort of levity which hatred andher misfortunes afterwards construed into crime. The Empress, convincedof the innocence of Marie Antoinette, directed the Baron de Neni tosolicit the recall of the Prince de Rohan, and to inform the Minister forForeign Affairs of all the motives which made her require it; but theHouse of Rohan interposed between its protege and the Austrian envoy, andan evasive answer merely was given. 

It was not until two months after the death of Louis XV. That the Courtof Vienna obtained his recall. The avowed grounds for requiring it were, first, the public gallantries of Prince Louis with some ladies of theCourt and others; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards otherforeign ministers, which would have had more serious consequences, especially with the ministers of England and Denmark, if the Empressherself had not interfered; thirdly, his contempt for religion in acountry where it was particularly necessary to show respect for it. He hadbeen seen frequently to dress himself in clothes of different colours, assuming the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom he visited, with somuch audacity that one day in particular, during the Fete-Dieu, he and allhis legation, in green uniforms laced with gold, broke through aprocession which impeded them, in order to make their way to a huntingparty at the Prince de Paar's; and fourthly, the immense debts contractedby him and his people, which were tardily and only in part discharged. 

The succeeding marriages of the Comte de Provence and the Comte d'Artoiswith two daughters of the King of Sardinia procured society for theDauphiness more suitable to her age, and altered her mode of life. 

A pair of tolerably fine eyes drew forth, in favour of the Comtesse deProvence, upon her arrival at Versailles, the only praises which couldreasonably be bestowed upon her. The Comtesse d'Artois, though notdeformed, was very small; she had a fine complexion; her face, tolerablypleasing, was not remarkable for anything except the extreme length of thenose. But being good and generous, she was beloved by those about her, and even possessed some influence so long as she was the only Princess whohad produced heirs to the crown. 

From this time the closest intimacy subsisted between the three youngfamilies. They took their meals together, except on those days when theydined in public. This manner of living en famille continued until theQueen sometimes indulged herself in going to dine with the Duchesse dePolignac, when she was governess; but the evening meetings at supper werenever interrupted; they took place at the house of the Comtesse deProvence. Madame Elisabeth made one of the party when she had finishedher education, and sometimes Mesdames, the King's aunts, were invited. Thecustom, which had no precedent at Court, was the work of Marie Antoinette, and she maintained it with the utmost perseverance. 

The Court of Versailles saw no change in point of etiquette during thereign of Louis XV. Play took place at the house of the Dauphiness, asbeing the first lady of the State. It had, from the death of Queen MariaLeczinska to the marriage of the Dauphin, been held at the abode of MadameAdelade. This removal, the result of an order of precedence not to beviolated, was not the less displeasing to Madame Adelaide, who establisheda separate party for play in her apartments, and scarcely ever went tothat which not only the Court in general, but also the royal family, wereexpected to attend. The full-dress visits to the King on his 'debotter'were continued. High mass was attended daily. The airings of thePrincesses were nothing more than rapid races in berlins, during whichthey were accompanied by Body Guards, equerries, and pages on horseback. They galloped for some leagues from Versailles. Calashes were used onlyin hunting. 

The young Princesses were desirous to infuse animation into their circleof associates by something useful as well as pleasant. They adopted theplan of learning and performing all the best plays of the French theatre. The Dauphin was the only spectator. The three Princesses, the twobrothers of the King, and Messieurs Campan, father and son, were the soleperformers, but they endeavoured to keep this amusement as secret as anaffair of State; they dreaded the censure of Mesdames, and they had nodoubt that Louis XV. Would forbid such pastimes if he knew of them. Theyselected for their performance a cabinet in the entresol which nobody hadoccasion to enter. 

A kind of proscenium, which could be taken down and shut up in a closet, formed the whole theatre. The Comte de Provence always knew his part withimperturbable accuracy; the Comte d'Artois knew his tolerably well, andrecited elegantly; the Princesses acted badly. The Dauphiness acquittedherself in some characters with discrimination and feeling. The chiefpleasure of this amusement consisted in all the costumes being elegant andaccurate. The Dauphin entered into the spirit of these diversions, andlaughed heartily at the comic characters as they came on the scene; fromthese amusements may be dated his discontinuance of the timid manner ofhis youth, and his taking pleasure in the society of the Dauphiness. 

It was not till a long time afterwards that I learnt these particulars, M. Campan having kept the secret; but an unforeseen event had well-nighexposed the whole mystery. One day the Queen desired M. Campan to go downinto her closet to fetch something that she had forgotten; he was dressedfor the character of Crispin, and was rouged. A private staircase leddirect to the entresol through the dressing-room. M. Campan fancied heheard some noise, and remained still, behind the door, which was shut. Aservant belonging to the wardrobe, who was, in fact, on the staircase, hadalso heard some noise, and, either from fear or curiosity, he suddenlyopened the door; the figure of Crispin frightened him so that he fell downbackwards, shouting with his might, "Help! help!" My father-in-law raisedhim up, made him recognise his voice, and laid upon him an injunction ofsilence as to what he had seen. He felt himself, however, bound to informthe Dauphiness of what had happened, and she was afraid that a similaroccurrence might betray their amusements. They were thereforediscontinued. 

The Princess occupied her time in her own apartment in the study of musicand the parts in plays which she had to learn; the latter exercise, atleast, produced the beneficial effect of strengthening her memory andfamiliarising her with the French language. 

While Louis XV. Reigned, the enemies of Marie Antoinette made no attemptto change public opinion with regard to her. She was always popular withthe French people in general, and particularly with the inhabitants ofParis, who went on every opportunity to Versailles, the majority of themattracted solely by the pleasure of seeing her. The courtiers did notfully enter into the popular enthusiasm which the Dauphiness had inspired;the disgrace of the Duc de Choiseul had removed her real support from her;and the party which had the ascendency at Court since the exile of thatminister was, politically, as much opposed to her family as to herself. The Dauphiness was therefore surrounded by enemies at Versailles. 

Nevertheless everybody appeared outwardly desirous to please her; for theage of Louis XV. , and the apathetic character of the Dauphin, sufficientlywarned courtiers of the important part reserved for the Princess duringthe following reign, in case the Dauphin should become attached to her. 

CHAPTER IV. 

About the beginning of May, 1774, Louis XV. , the strength of whoseconstitution had promised a long enough life, was attacked by confluentsmallpox of the worst kind. Mesdames at this juncture inspired theDauphiness with a feeling of respect and attachment, of which she gavethem repeated proofs when she ascended the throne. In fact, nothing wasmore admirable nor more affecting than the courage with which they bravedthat most horrible disease. The air of the palace was infected; more thanfifty persons took the smallpox, in consequence of having merely loiteredin the galleries of Versailles, and ten died of it. 

The end of the monarch was approaching. His reign, peaceful in general, had inherited strength from the power of his predecessor; on the otherhand, his own weakness had been preparing misfortune for whoever shouldreign after him. The scene was about to change; hope, ambition, joy, grief, and all those feelings which variously affected the hearts of thecourtiers, sought in vain to disguise themselves under a calm exterior. Itwas easy to detect the different motives which induced them every momentto repeat to every one the question: "How is the King?" At length, on the10th of May, 1774, the mortal career of Louis XV. Terminated. 

[Christopher de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, the ardent apostle offrequent communion, arrived at Paris with the intention of soliciting, inpublic, the administration of the sacrament to the King, and secretlyretarding it as much as possible. The ceremony could not take placewithout the previous and public expulsion of the, concubine, according tothe canons of the Church and the Jesuitical party, of which Christopherwas the leader. This party, which had made use of Madame du Barry tosuppress the Parliaments, to support the Duc d'Aiguillon, and ruin theChoiseul faction, could not willingly consent to disgrace her canonically. The Archbishop went into the King's bedchamber, and found there MadameAdelaide, the Duc d'Aumont, the Bishop of Senlis, and Richelieu, in whosepresence he resolved not to say one word about confession for that day. This reticence so encouraged Louis XV. That, on the Archbishopwithdrawing, he had Madame du Barry called in, and kissed her beautifulhands again with his wonted affection. On the 2d of May the King foundhimself a little better. Madame du Barry had brought him two confidentialphysicians, Lorry and Borden, who were enjoined to conceal the nature ofhis sickness from him in order to keep off the priests and save her from ahumiliating dismissal. The King's improvement allowed Madame du Barry todivert him by her usual playfulness and conversation. But La Martiniere, who was of the Choiseul party, and to whom they durst not refuse his rightof entry, did not conceal from the King either the nature or the danger ofhis sickness. The King then sent for Madame du Barry, and said to her:"My love, I have got the smallpox, and my illness is very dangerous onaccount of my age and other disorders. I ought not to forget that I amthe most Christian King, and the eldest son of the Church. I amsixty-four; the time is perhaps approaching when we must separate. I wishto prevent a scene like that of Metz. " (when, in 1744, he had dismissedthe Duchesse de Chateauroux. ) "Apprise the Duc d'Aiguillon of what I say, that he may arrange with you if my sickness grows worse; so that we maypart without any publicity. " The Jansenists and the Duc de Choiseursparty publicly said that M. D'Aiguillon and the Archbishop had resolved tolet the King die without receiving the sacrament rather than disturbMadame du Barry. Annoyed by their remarks, Beaumont determined to go andreside at the Lazaristes, his house at Versailles, to avail himself of theKing's last moments, and sacrifice Madame du Barry when the monarch'scondition should become desperate. He arrived on the 3d of May, but didnot see the King. Under existing circumstances, his object was to humblethe enemies of his party and to support the favourite who had assisted toovercome them. 

A contrary zeal animated the Bishop of Carcassonne, who urged that "theKing ought to receive the sacrament; and by expelling the concubine togive an example of repentance to France and Christian Europe, which he hadscandalised. "--"By what right, " said Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon, acomplaisant courtier with whom the Bishop was at daggers drawn, "do youinstruct me?"--"There is my authority, " replied the Bishop, holding up hispectoral cross. "Learn, monseigneur, to respect it, and do not sufferyour King to die without the sacraments of the Church, of which he is theeldest son. " The Duc d'Aiguillon and the Archbishop, who witnessed thediscussion, put an end to it by asking for the King's orders relative toMadame du Barry. "She must be taken quietly to your seat at Ruelle, " saidthe King; "I shall be grateful for the care Madame d'Aiguillon may take ofher. "

Madame du Barry saw the King again for a moment on the evening of the 4th, and promised to return to Court upon his recovery. She was scarcely gonewhen the King asked for her. "She is gone, " was the answer. From thatmoment the disorder gained ground; he thought himself a dead man, withoutthe possibility of recovery. The 5th and 6th passed without a word ofconfession, viaticum, or extreme unction. The Duc de Fronsac threatenedto throw the Cure of Versailles out of the window if he dared to mentionthem, but on the 7th, at three in the morning, the King imperativelycalled for the Abbe Maudous. Confession lasted seventeen minutes. TheDucs de la Vrillilere and d'Aiguillon wished to delay the viaticum; but LaMartiniere said to the King: "Sire, I have seen your Majesty in verytrying circumstances; but never admired you as I have done to-day. Nodoubt your Majesty will immediately finish what you have so well begun. "The King had his confessor Maudoua called back; this was a poor priest whohad been placed about him for some years before because he was old andblind. He gave him absolution. 

The formal renunciation desired by the Choiseul party, in order to humbleand annihilate Madame du Barry with solemnity, was no more mentioned. Thegrand almoner, in concert with the Archbishop, composed this formula, pronounced in presence of the viaticum: "Although the King owes an accountof his conduct to none but God, he declares his repentance at havingscandalised his subjects, and is desirous to live solely for themaintenance of religion and the happiness of his people. "

On the 8th and 9th the disorder grew worse; and the King beheld the wholesurface of his body coming off piecemeal and corrupted. Deserted by hisfriends and by that crowd of courtiers which had so long cringed beforehim, his only consolation was the piety of his daughters. --SOULAVIE, "Historical and Political Memoirs, " vol. I. ]

The Comtesse du Barry had, a few days previously, withdrawn to Ruelle, tothe Duc d'Aiguillon's. Twelve or fifteen persons belonging to the Courtthought it their duty to visit her there; their liveries were observed, and these visits were for a long time grounds for disfavour. More thansix years after the King's death one of these persons being spoken of inthe circle of the royal family, I heard it remarked, "That was one of thefifteen Ruelle carriages. "

The whole Court went to the Chateau; the oiel-de boeuf was filled withcourtiers, and the palace with the inquisitive. The Dauphin had settledthat he would depart with the royal family the moment the King shouldbreathe his last sigh. But on such an occasion decency forbade thatpositive orders for departure should be passed from mouth to mouth. Theheads of the stables, therefore, agreed with the people who were in theKing's room, that the latter should place a lighted taper near a window, and that at the instant of the King's decease one of them shouldextinguish it. 

The taper was extinguished. On this signal the Body Guards, pages, andequerries mounted on horseback, and all was ready for setting off. TheDauphin was with the Dauphiness. They were expecting together theintelligence of the death of Louis XV. A dreadful noise, absolutely likethunder, was heard in the outer apartment; it was the crowd of courtierswho were deserting the dead sovereign's antechamber, to come and do homageto the new power of Louis XVI. This extraordinary tumult informed MarieAntoinette and her husband that they were called to the throne; and, by aspontaneous movement, which deeply affected those around them, they threwthemselves on their knees; both, pouring forth a flood of tears, exclaimed: "O God! guide us, protect us; we are too young to reign. "

The Comtesse de Noailles entered, and was the first to salute MarieAntoinette as Queen of France. She requested their Majesties tocondescend to quit the inner apartments for the grand salon, to receivethe Princes and all the great officers, who were desirous to do homage totheir new sovereigns. Marie Antoinette received these first visitsleaning upon her husband, with her handkerchief held to her eyes; thecarriages drove up, the guards and equerries were on horseback. TheChateau was deserted; every one hastened to fly from contagion, whichthere was no longer any inducement to brave. 

On leaving the chamber of Louis XV. , the Duc de Villequier, firstgentleman of the bedchamber for the year, ordered M. Andouille, the King'schief surgeon, to open the body and embalm it. The chief surgeon wouldinevitably have died in consequence. "I am ready, " replied Andouille;"but while I operate you shall hold the head; your office imposes thisduty upon you. " The Duke went off without saying a word, and the corpsewas neither opened nor embalmed. A few under-servants and workmencontinued with the pestiferous remains, and paid the last duty to theirmaster; the surgeons directed that spirits of wine should be poured intothe coffin. 

The entire Court set off for Choisy at four o'clock; Mesdames the King'saunts in their private carriage, and the Princesses under tuition with theComtesse de Marsan and the under-governesses. The King, the Queen, Monsieur, the King's brother, Madame, and the Comte and Comtesse d'Artoiswent in the same carriage. The solemn scene that had just passed beforetheir eyes, the multiplied ideas offered to their imaginations by thatwhich was just opening, had naturally inclined them to grief andreflection; but, by the Queen's own confession, this inclination, littlesuited to their age, wholly left them before they had gone half theirjourney; a word, drolly mangled by the Comtesse d'Artois, occasioned ageneral burst of laughter; and from that moment they dried their tears. 

The communication between Choisy and Paris was incessant; never was aCourt seen in greater agitation. What influence will the royal auntshave, --and the Queen? What fate is reserved for the Comtesse du Barry?Whom will the young King choose for his ministers? All these questionswere answered in a few days. It was determined that the King's youthrequired a confidential person near him; and that there should be a primeminister. All eyes were turned upon De Machault and De Maurepas, both ofthem much advanced in years. The first had retired to his estate nearParis; and the second to Pont Chartrain, to which place he had long beenexiled. The letter recalling M. De Machault was written, when MadameAdelaide obtained the preference of that important appointment for M. DeMaurepas. The page to whose care the first letter had been actuallyconsigned was recalled. 

The Duc d'Aiguillon had been too openly known as the private friend of theKing's mistress; he was dismissed. M. De Vergennes, at that timeambassador of France at Stockholm, was appointed Minister for ForeignAffairs; Comte du Muy, the intimate friend of the Dauphin, the father ofLouis XVI. [?? D. W. ], obtained the War Department. The Abbe Terray in vainsaid, and wrote, that he had boldly done all possible injury to thecreditors of the State during the reign of the late King; that order wasrestored in the finances; that nothing but what was beneficial to allparties remained to be done; and that the new Court was about to enjoy theadvantages of the regenerating part of his plan of finance; all thesereasons, set forth in five or six memorials, which he sent in successionto the King and Queen, did not avail to keep him in office. His talentswere admitted, but the odium which his operations had necessarily broughtupon his character, combined with the immorality of his private life, forbade his further stay at Court; he was succeeded by M. De Clugny. DeMaupeou, the chancellor, was exiled; this caused universal joy. Lastly, the reassembling of the Parliaments produced the strongest sensation;Paris was in a delirium of joy, and not more than one person in a hundredforesaw that the spirit of the ancient magistracy would be still the same;and that in a short time it would make new attempts upon the royalauthority. Madame du Barry had been exiled to Pont-aux-Dames. This was ameasure rather of necessity than of severity; a short period of compulsoryretreat was requisite in order completely to break off her connectionswith State affairs. The possession of Louveciennes and a considerablepension were continued to her. 

[The Comtesse du Barry never forgot the mild treatment she experiencedfrom the Court of Louis XVI. ; during the most violent convulsions of theRevolution she signified to the Queen that there was no one in France moregrieved at the sufferings of her sovereign than herself; that the honourshe had for years enjoyed, of living near the throne, and the unboundedkindness of the King and Queen, had so sincerely attached her to the causeof royalty that she entreated the Queen to honour her by disposing of allshe possessed. Though they did not accept her offer, their Majesties wereaffected at her gratitude. The Comtesse du Barry was, as is well known, one of the victims of the Revolution. She betrayed at the last greatweakness, and the most ardent desire to live. She was the only woman whowept upon the scaffold and implored for mercy. Her beauty and tears madean impression on the populace, and the execution was hurried to aconclusion. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

Everybody expected the recall of M. De Choiseul; the regret occasioned byhis absence among the numerous friends whom he had left at Court, theattachment of the young Princess who was indebted to him for her elevationto the throne of France, and all concurring circumstances, seemed toforetell his return; the Queen earnestly entreated it of the King, but shemet with an insurmountable and unforeseen obstacle. The King, it is said, had imbibed the strongest prejudices against that minister, from secretmemoranda penned by his father, and which had been committed to the careof the Duc de La Vauguyon, with an injunction to place them in his handsas soon as he should be old enough to study the art of reigning. It wasby these memoranda that the esteem which he had conceived for the Marechaldu Muy was inspired, and we may add that Madame Adelaide, who at thisearly period powerfully influenced the decisions of the young monarch, confirmed the impressions they had made. 

The Queen conversed with M. Campan on the regret she felt at having beenunable to procure the recall of M. De Choiseul, and disclosed the cause ofit to him. The Abbe de Vermond, who, down to the time of the death ofLouis XV. , had been on terms of the strictest friendship with M. Campan, called upon him on the second day after the arrival of the Court atChoisy, and, assuming a serious air, said, "Monsieur, the Queen wasindiscreet enough yesterday to speak to you of a minister to whom she mustof course be attached, and whom his friends ardently desire to have nearher; you are aware that we must give up all expectation of seeing the Dukeat Court; you know the reasons why; but you do not know that the youngQueen, having mentioned the conversation in question to me, it was myduty, both as her preceptor and her friend, to remonstrate severely withher on her indiscretion in communicating to you those particulars of whichyou are in possession. I am now come to tell you that if you continue toavail yourself of the good nature of your mistress to initiate yourself insecrets of State, you will have me for your most inveterate enemy. TheQueen should find here no other confidant than myself respecting thingsthat ought to remain secret. " M. Campan answered that he did not covetthe important and dangerous character at the new Court which the Abbewished to appropriate; and that he should confine himself to the duties ofhis office, being sufficiently satisfied with the continued kindness withwhich the Queen honoured him. Notwithstanding this, however, he informedthe Queen, on the very same evening, of the injunction he had received. She owned that she had mentioned their conversation to the Abbe; that hehad indeed seriously scolded her, in order to make her feel the necessityof being secret in concerns of State; and she added, "The Abbe cannot likeyou, my dear Campan; he did not expect that I should, on my arrival inFrance, find in my household a man who would suit me so exactly as youhave done. I know that he has taken umbrage at it; that is enough. Iknow, too, that you are incapable of attempting anything to injure him inmy esteem; an attempt which would besides be vain, for I have been toolong attached to him. As to yourself, be easy on the score of the Abbe'shostility, which shall not in any way hurt you. "

The Abbe de Vermond having made himself master of the office of soleconfidant to the Queen, was nevertheless agitated whenever he saw theyoung King; he could not be ignorant that the Abbe had been promoted bythe Duc de Choiseul, and was believed to favour the Encyclopedists, against whom Louis XVI. Entertained a secret prejudice, although hesuffered them to gain so great an ascendency during his reign. The Abbehad, moreover, observed that the King had never, while Dauphin, addresseda single word to him; and that he very frequently only answered him with ashrug of the shoulders. He therefore determined on writing to Louis XVI. , and intimating that he owed his situation at Court solely to theconfidence with which the late King had honoured him; and that as habitscontracted during the Queen's education placed him continually in theclosest intimacy with her, he could not enjoy the honour of remaining nearher Majesty without the King's consent. Louis XVI. Sent back his letter, after writing upon it these words: "I approve the Abbe de Vermondcontinuing in his office about the Queen. "

CHAPTER V. 

At the period of his grandfather's death, Louis XVI. Began to beexceedingly attached to the Queen. The first period of so deep a mourningnot admitting of indulgence in the diversion of hunting, he proposed toher walks in the gardens of Choisy; they went out like husband and wife, the young King giving his arm to the Queen, and accompanied by a verysmall suite. The influence of this example had such an effect upon thecourtiers that the next day several couples, who had long, and for goodreasons, been disunited, were seen walking upon the terrace with the sameapparent conjugal intimacy. Thus they spent whole hours, braving theintolerable wearisomeness of their protracted tete-a-tetes, out of mereobsequious imitation. 

The devotion of Mesdames to the King their father throughout his dreadfulmalady had produced that effect upon their health which was generallyapprehended. On the fourth day after their arrival at Choisy they wereattacked by pains in the head and chest, which left no doubt as to thedanger of their situation. It became necessary instantly to send away theyoung royal family; and the Chateau de la Muette, in the Bois de Boulogne, was selected for their reception. Their arrival at that residence, whichwas very near Paris, drew so great a concourse of people into itsneighbourhood, that even at daybreak the crowd had begun to assemble roundthe gates. Shouts of "Vive le Roi!" were scarcely interrupted for amoment between six o'clock in the morning and sunset. The unpopularity thelate King, had drawn upon himself during his latter years, and the hopesto which a new reign gives birth, occasioned these transports of joy. 

A fashionable jeweller made a fortune by the sale of mourning snuff-boxes, whereon the portrait of the young Queen, in a black frame of shagreen, gave rise to the pun: "Consolation in chagrin. " All the fashions, andevery article of dress, received names expressing the spirit of themoment. Symbols of abundance were everywhere represented, and thehead-dresses of the ladies were surrounded by ears of wheat. Poets sang ofthe new monarch; all hearts, or rather all heads, in France were filledwith enthusiasm. Never did the commencement of any reign excite moreunanimous testimonials of love and attachment. It must be observed, however, that, amidst all this intoxication, the anti-Austrian party neverlost sight of the young Queen, but kept on the watch, with the maliciousdesire to injure her through such errors as might arise from her youth andinexperience. 

Their Majesties had to receive at La Muette the condolences of the ladieswho had been presented at Court, who all felt themselves called on to payhomage to the new sovereigns. Old and young hastened to presentthemselves on the day of general reception; little black bonnets withgreat wings, shaking heads, low curtsies, keeping time with the motions ofthe head, made, it must be admitted, a few venerable dowagers appearsomewhat ridiculous; but the Queen, who possessed a great deal of dignity, and a high respect for decorum, was not guilty of the grave fault oflosing the state she was bound to preserve. An indiscreet piece ofdrollery of one of the ladies of the palace, however, procured her theimputation of doing so. The Marquise de Clermont-Tonnerre, whose officerequired that she should continue standing behind the Queen, fatigued bythe length of the ceremony, seated herself on the floor, concealed behindthe fence formed by the hoops of the Queen and the ladies of the palace. Thus seated, and wishing to attract attention and to appear lively, shetwitched the dresses of those ladies, and played a thousand other tricks. The contrast of these childish pranks with the solemnity which reignedover the rest of the Queen's chamber disconcerted her Majesty: she severaltimes placed her fan before her face to hide an involuntary smile, and thesevere old ladies pronounced that the young Queen had decided all thoserespectable persons who were pressing forward to pay their homage to her;that she liked none but the young; that she was deficient in decorum; andthat not one of them would attend her Court again. The epithet 'moqueuse'was applied to her; and there is no epithet less favourably received inthe world. 

The next day a very ill-natured song was circulated; the stamp of theparty to which it was attributable might easily be seen upon it. Iremember only the following chorus:

"Little Queen, you must not beSo saucy, with your twenty years;Your ill-used courtiers soon will seeYou pass, once more, the barriers. Fal lal lal, fal lal la. "

The errors of the great, or those which ill-nature chooses to impute tothem, circulate in the world with the greatest rapidity, and becomehistorical traditions, which every one delights to repeat. 

More than fifteen years after this occurrence I heard some old ladies inthe most retired part of Auvergne relating all the particulars of the dayof public condolence for the late King, on which, as they said, the Queenhad laughed in the faces of the sexagenarian duchesses and princesses whohad thought it their duty to appear on the occasion. 

The King and the Princes, his brothers, determined to avail themselves ofthe advantages held out by inoculation, as a safeguard against the illnessunder which their grandfather had just fallen; but the utility of this newdiscovery not being then generally acknowledged in France, many personswere greatly alarmed at the step; those who blamed it openly threw all theresponsibility of it upon the Queen, who alone, they said, could haveventured to give such rash advice, inoculation being at this timeestablished in the Northern Courts. The operation upon the King and hisbrothers, performed by Doctor Jauberthou, was fortunately quitesuccessful. 

When the convalescence of the Princes was perfectly established, theexcursions to Marly became cheerful enough. Parties on horseback and incalashes were formed continually. The Queen was desirous to affordherself one very innocent gratification; she had never seen the day break;and having now no other consent than that of the King to seek, sheintimated her wish to him. He agreed that she should go, at three o'clockin the morning, to the eminences of the gardens of Marly; and, unfortunately, little disposed to partake in her amusements, he himselfwent to bed. Foreseeing some inconveniences possible in this nocturnalparty, the Queen determined on having a number of people with her; andeven ordered her waiting women to accompany her. All precautions wereineffectual to prevent the effects of calumny, which thenceforward soughtto diminish the general attachment that she had inspired. A few daysafterwards, the most wicked libel that appeared during the earlier yearsof her reign was circulated in Paris. The blackest colours were employedto paint an enjoyment so harmless that there is scarcely a young womanliving in the country who has not endeavoured to procure it for herself. The verses which appeared on this occasion were entitled "Sunrise. "

The Duc d'Orleans, then Duc de Chartres, was among those who accompaniedthe young Queen in her nocturnal ramble: he appeared very attentive to herat this epoch; but it was the only moment of his life in which there wasany advance towards intimacy between the Queen and himself. The Kingdisliked the character of the Duc de Chartres, and the Queen alwaysexcluded him from her private society. It is therefore without theslightest foundation that some writers have attributed to feelings ofjealousy or wounded self-love the hatred which he displayed towards theQueen during the latter years of their existence. 

It was on this first journey to Marly that Boehmer, the jeweller, appearedat Court, --a man whose stupidity and avarice afterwards fatally affectedthe happiness and reputation of Marie Antoinette. This person had, atgreat expense, collected six pear-formed diamonds of a prodigious size;they were perfectly matched and of the finest water. The earrings whichthey composed had, before the death of Louis XV. , been destined for theComtesse du Barry. 

Boehmer; by the recommendation of several persons about the Court, came tooffer these jewels to the Queen. He asked four hundred thousand francsfor them. The young Princess could not withstand her wish to purchasethem; and the King having just raised the Queen's income, which, under theformer reign, had been but two hundred thousand livres, to one hundredthousand crowns a year, she wished to make the purchase out of her ownpurse, and not burthen the royal treasury with the payment. She proposedto Boehmer to take off the two buttons which formed the tops of theclusters, as they could be replaced by two of her own diamonds. Heconsented, and then reduced the price of the earrings to three hundred andsixty thousand francs; the payment for which was to be made byinstalments, and was discharged in the course of four or five years by theQueen's first femme de chambre, deputed to manage the funds of her privypurse. I have omitted no details as to the manner in which the Queenfirst became possessed of these jewels, deeming them very needful to placein its true light the too famous circumstance of the necklace, whichhappened near the end of her reign. 

It was also on this first journey to Marly that the Duchesse de Chartres, afterwards Duchesse d'Orleans, introduced into the Queen's householdMademoiselle Bertin, a milliner who became celebrated at that time for thetotal change she effected in the dress of the French ladies. 

It may be said that the mere admission of a milliner into the house of theQueen was followed by evil consequences to her Majesty. The skill of themilliner, who was received into the household, in spite of the customwhich kept persons of her description out of it, afforded her theopportunity of introducing some new fashion every day. Up to this timethe Queen had shown very plain taste in dress; she now began to make it aprincipal occupation; and she was of course imitated by other women. 

All wished instantly to have the same dress as the Queen, and to wear thefeathers and flowers to which her beauty, then in its brilliancy, lent anindescribable charm. The expenditure of the younger ladies wasnecessarily much increased; mothers and husbands murmured at it; some fewgiddy women contracted debts; unpleasant domestic scenes occurred; in manyfamilies coldness or quarrels arose; and the general report was, --that theQueen would be the ruin of all the French ladies. 

Fashion continued its fluctuating progress; and head-dresses, with theirsuperstructures of gauze, flowers, and feathers, became so lofty that thewomen could not find carriages high enough to admit them; and they wereoften seen either stooping, or holding their heads out of the windows. Others knelt down in order to manage these elevated objects of ridiculewith less danger. 

[If the use of these extravagant feathers and head-dresses had continued, say the memoirs of that period very seriously, it would have effected arevolution in architecture. It would have been found necessary to raisethe doors and ceilings of the boxes at the theatre, and particularly thebodies of carriages. It was not without mortification that the Kingobserved the Queen's adoption of this style of dress: she was never solovely in his eyes as when unadorned by art. One day Carlin, performingat Court as harlequin, stuck in his hat, instead of the rabbit's tail, itsprescribed ornament, a peacock's feather of excessive length. This newappendage, which repeatedly got entangled among the scenery, gave him anopportunity for a great deal of buffoonery. There was some inclination topunish him; but it was presumed that he had not assumed the featherwithout authority. -NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Innumerable caricatures, exhibited in all directions, and some of whichartfully gave the features of the Queen, attacked the extravagance offashion, but with very little effect. It changed only, as is always thecase, through the influence of inconstancy and time. 

The Queen's toilet was a masterpiece of etiquette; everything was done ina prescribed form. Both the dame d'honneur and the dame d'atours usuallyattended and officiated, assisted by the first femme de chambre and twoordinary women. The dame d'atours put on the petticoat, and handed thegown to the Queen. The dame d'honneur poured out the water for her handsand put on her linen. When a princess of the royal family happened to bepresent while the Queen was dressing, the dame d'honneur yielded to herthe latter act of office, but still did not yield it directly to thePrincesses of the blood; in such a case the dame d'honneur was accustomedto present the linen to the first femme de chambre, who, in her turn, handed it to the Princess of the blood. Each of these ladies observedthese rules scrupulously as affecting her rights. One winter's day ithappened that the Queen, who was entirely undressed, was just going to puton her shift; I held it ready unfolded for her; the dame d'honneur camein, slipped off her gloves, and took it. A scratching was heard at thedoor; it was opened, and in came the Duchesse d'Orleans: her gloves weretaken off, and she came forward to take the garment; but as it would havebeen wrong in the dame d'honneur to hand it to her she gave it to me, andI handed it to the Princess. More scratching it was Madame la Comtesse deProvence; the Duchesse d'Orleans handed her the linen. All this while theQueen kept her arms crossed upon her bosom, and appeared to feel cold;Madame observed her uncomfortable situation, and, merely laying down herhandkerchief without taking off her gloves, she put on the linen, and indoing so knocked the Queen's cap off. The Queen laughed to conceal herimpatience, but not until she had muttered several times, "Howdisagreeable! how tiresome!"

All this etiquette, however inconvenient, was suitable to the royaldignity, which expects to find servants in all classes of persons, beginning even with the brothers and sisters of the monarch. 

Speaking here of etiquette, I do not allude to majestic state, appointedfor days of ceremony in all Courts. I mean those minute ceremonies thatwere pursued towards our Kings in their inmost privacies, in their hoursof pleasure, in those of pain, and even during the most revolting of humaninfirmities. 

These servile rules were drawn up into a kind of code; they offered to aRichelieu, a La Rochefoucauld and a Duras, in the exercise of theirdomestic functions, opportunities of intimacy useful to their interests;and their vanity was flattered by customs which converted the right togive a glass of water, to put on a dress, and to remove a basin, intohonourable prerogatives. 

Princes thus accustomed to be treated as divinities naturally ended bybelieving that they were of a distinct nature, of a purer essence than therest of mankind. 

This sort of etiquette, which led our Princes to be treated in private asidols, made them in public martyrs to decorum. Marie Antoinette found inthe Chateau of Versailles a multitude of established customs whichappeared to her insupportable. 

The ladies-in-waiting, who were all obliged to be sworn, and to wear fullCourt dresses, were alone entitled to remain in the room, and to attend inconjunction with the dame d'honneur and the tirewoman. The Queenabolished all this formality. When her head was dressed, she curtsied toall the ladies who were in her chamber, and, followed only by her ownwomen, went into her closet, where Mademoiselle Bertin, who could not beadmitted into the chamber, used to await her. It was in this inner closetthat she produced her new and numerous dresses. The Queen was alsodesirous of being served by the most fashionable hairdresser in Paris. Now the custom which forbade all persons in inferior offices, employed byroyalty, to exert their talents for the public, was no doubt intended tocut off all communication between the privacy of princes and society atlarge; the latter being always extremely curious respecting the mosttrifling particulars relative to the private life of the former. TheQueen, fearing that the taste of the hairdresser would suffer if he shoulddiscontinue the general practice of his art, ordered him to attend asusual certain ladies of the Court and of Paris; and this multiplied theopportunities of learning details respecting the household, and very oftenof misrepresenting them. 

One of the customs most disagreeable to the Queen was that of dining everyday in public. Maria Leczinska had always submitted to this wearisomepractice; Marie Antoinette followed it as long as she was Dauphiness. TheDauphin dined with her, and each branch of the family had its publicdinner daily. The ushers suffered all decently dressed people to enter;the sight was the delight of persons from the country. At the dinner-hourthere were none to be met upon the stairs but honest folks, who, afterhaving seen the Dauphiness take her soup, went to see the Princes eattheir 'bouilli', and then ran themselves out of breath to behold Mesdamesat their dessert. 

Very ancient usage, too, required that the Queens of France should appearin public surrounded only by women; even at meal-times no persons of theother sex attended to serve at table; and although the King ate publiclywith the Queen, yet he himself was served by women with everything whichwas presented to him directly at table. The dame d'honneur, kneeling, forher own accommodation, upon a low stool, with a napkin upon her arm, andfour women in full dress, presented the plates to the King and Queen. Thedame d'honneur handed them drink. This service had formerly been theright of the maids of honour. The Queen, upon her accession to thethrone, abolished the usage altogether. She also freed herself from thenecessity of being followed in the Palace of Versailles by two of herwomen in Court dresses, during those hours of the day when theladies-in-waiting were not with her. From that time she was accompaniedonly by a single valet de chambre and two footmen. All the changes madeby Marie Antoinette were of the same description; a disposition graduallyto substitute the simple customs of Vienna for those of Versailles wasmore injurious to her than she could possibly have imagined. 

When the King slept in the Queen's apartment he always rose before her;the exact hour was communicated to the head femme de chambre, who entered, preceded by a servant of the bedchamber bearing a taper; she crossed theroom and unbolted the door which separated the Queen's apartment from thatof the King. She there found the first valet de chambre for the quarter, and a servant of the chamber. They entered, opened the bed curtains onthe King's side, and presented him slippers generally, as well as thedressing-gown, which he put on, of gold or silver stuff. The first valetde chambre took down a short sword which was always laid within therailing on the King's side. When the King slept with the Queen, thissword was brought upon the armchair appropriated to the King, and whichwas placed near the Queen's bed, within the gilt railing which surroundedthe bed. The first femme de chambre conducted the King to the door, bolted it again, and, leaving the Queen's chamber, did not return untilthe hour appointed by her Majesty the evening before. At night the Queenwent to bed before the King; the first femme de chambre remained seated atthe foot of her bed until the arrival of his Majesty, in order, as in themorning, to see the King's attendants out and bolt the door after them. The Queen awoke habitually at eight o'clock, and breakfasted at nine, frequently in bed, and sometimes after she had risen, at a table placedopposite her couch. 

In order to describe the Queen's private service intelligibly, it must berecollected that service of every kind was honour, and had not any otherdenomination. To do the honours of the service was to present the serviceto a person of superior rank, who happened to arrive at the moment it wasabout to be performed. Thus, supposing the Queen asked for a glass ofwater, the servant of the chamber handed to the first woman a silver giltwaiter, upon which were placed a covered goblet and a small decanter; butshould the lady of honour come in, the first woman was obliged to presentthe waiter to her, and if Madame or the Comtesse d'Artois came in at themoment, the waiter went again from the lady of honour into the hands ofthe Princess before it reached the Queen. It must be observed, however, that if a princess of the blood instead of a princess of the familyentered, the service went directly from the first woman to the princess ofthe blood, the lady of honour being excused from transferring to any butprincesses of the royal family. Nothing was presented directly to theQueen; her handkerchief or her gloves were placed upon a long salver ofgold or silver gilt, which was placed as a piece of furniture of ceremonyupon a side-table, and was called a gantiere. The first woman presentedto her in this manner all that she asked for, unless the tirewoman, thelady of honour, or a princess were present, and then the gradation pointedout in the instance of the glass of water was always observed. 

Whether the Queen breakfasted in bed or up, those entitled to the petitesentrees were equally admitted; this privilege belonged of right to herchief physician, chief surgeon, physician in ordinary, reader, closetsecretary, the King's four first valets de chambre and their reversioners, and the King's chief physicians and surgeons. There were frequently fromten to twelve persons at this first entree. The lady of honour or thesuperintendent, if present, placed the breakfast equipage upon the bed;the Princesse de Lamballe frequently performed that office. 

As soon as the Queen rose, the wardrobe woman was admitted to take awaythe pillows and prepare the bed to be made by some of the valets dechambre. She undrew the curtains, and the bed was not generally madeuntil the Queen was gone to mass. Generally, excepting at St. Cloud, where the Queen bathed in an apartment below her own, a slipper bath wasrolled into her room, and her bathers brought everything that wasnecessary for the bath. The Queen bathed in a large gown of Englishflannel buttoned down to the bottom; its sleeves throughout, as well asthe collar, were lined with linen. When she came out of the bath thefirst woman held up a cloth to conceal her entirely from the sight of herwomen, and then threw it over her shoulders. The bathers wrapped her init and dried her completely. She then put on a long and wide openchemise, entirely trimmed with lace, and afterwards a white taffetybed-gown. The wardrobe woman warmed the bed; the slippers were of dimity, trimmed with lace. Thus dressed, the Queen went to bed again, and thebathers and servants of the chamber took away the bathing apparatus. TheQueen, replaced in bed, took a book or her tapestry work. On her bathingmornings she breakfasted in the bath. The tray was placed on the cover ofthe bath. These minute details are given here only to do justice to theQueen's scrupulous modesty. Her temperance was equally remarkable; shebreakfasted on coffee or chocolate; at dinner ate nothing but white meat, drank water only, and supped on broth, a wing of a fowl, and smallbiscuits, which she soaked in a glass of water. 

The tirewoman had under her order a principal under-tirewoman, chargedwith the care and preservation of all the Queen's dresses; two women tofold and press such articles as required it; two valets, and a porter ofthe wardrobe. The latter brought every morning into the Queen'sapartments baskets covered with taffety, containing all that she was towear during the day, and large cloths of green taffety covering the robesand the full dresses. The valet of the wardrobe on duty presented everymorning a large book to the first femme de chambre, containing patterns ofthe gowns, full dresses, undresses, etc. Every pattern was marked, toshow to which sort it belonged. The first femme de chambre presented thisbook to the Queen on her awaking, with a pincushion; her Majesty stuckpins in those articles which she chose for the day, --one for the dress, one for the afternoon-undress, and one for the full evening dress for cardor supper parties in the private apartments. The book was then taken backto the wardrobe, and all that was wanted for the day was soon afterbrought in in large taffety wrappers. The wardrobe woman, who had thecare of the linen, in her turn brought in a covered basket containing twoor three chemises and handkerchiefs. The morning basket was called pretdu jour. In the evening she brought in one containing the nightgown andnightcap, and the stockings for the next morning; this basket was calledpret de la nuit. They were in the department of the lady of honour, thetirewoman having nothing to do with the linen. Nothing was put in orderor taken care of by the Queen's women. As soon as the toilet was over, the valets and porter belonging to the wardrobe were called in, and theycarried all away in a heap, in the taffety wrappers, to the tirewoman'swardrobe, where all were folded up again, hung up, examined, and cleanedwith so much regularity and care that even the cast-off clothes scarcelylooked as if they had been worn. The tirewoman's wardrobe consisted ofthree large rooms surrounded with closets, some furnished with drawers andothers with shelves; there were also large tables in each of these rooms, on which the gowns and dresses were spread out and folded up. 

For the winter the Queen had generally twelve full dresses, twelveundresses called fancy dresses, and twelve rich hoop petticoats for thecard and supper parties in the smaller apartments. 

She had as many for the summer; those for the spring served likewise forthe autumn. All these dresses were discarded at the end of each season, unless, indeed, she retained some that she particularly liked. I am notspeaking of muslin or cambric gowns, or others of the same kind--they werelately introduced; but such as these were not renewed at each returningseason, they were kept several years. The chief women were charged withthe care and examination of the diamonds; this important duty was formerlyconfided to the tirewoman, but for many years had been included in thebusiness of the first femmes de chambre. 

The public toilet took place at noon. The toilet-table was drawn forwardinto the middle of the room. This piece of furniture was generally therichest and most ornamented of all in the apartment of the Princesses. TheQueen used it in the same manner and place for undressing herself in theevening. She went to bed in corsets trimmed with ribbon, and sleevestrimmed with lace, and wore a large neck handkerchief. The Queen'scombing cloth was presented by her first woman if she was alone at thecommencement of the toilet; or, as well as the other articles, by theladies of honour if they were come. At noon the women who had been inattendance four and twenty hours were relieved by two women in full dress;the first woman went also to dress herself. The grandee entrees wereadmitted during the toilet; sofas were placed in circles for thesuperintendent, the ladies of honour, and tirewomen, and the governess ofthe children of France when she came there; the duties of the ladies ofthe bedchamber, having nothing to do with any kind of domestic or privatefunctions, did not begin until the hour of going out to mass; they waitedin the great closet, and entered when the toilet was over. The Princes ofthe blood, captains of the Guards, and all great officers having the entrypaid their court at the hour of the toilet. The Queen saluted by noddingher head or bending her body, or leaning upon her toilet-table as ifmoving to rise; the last mode of salutation was for the Princes of theblood. The King's brothers also came very generally to pay their respectsto her Majesty while her hair was being dressed. In the earlier years ofthe reign the first part of the dressing was performed in the bedchamberand according to the laws of etiquette; that is to say, the lady of honourput on the chemise and poured out the water for the hands, the tirewomanput on the skirt of the gown or full dress, adjusted the handkerchief, andtied on the necklace. But when the young Queen became more seriouslydevoted to fashion, and the head-dress attained so extravagant a heightthat it became necessary to put on the chemise from below, --when, inshort, she determined to have her milliner, Mademoiselle Benin, with herwhilst she was dressing, whom the ladies would have refused to admit toany share in the honour of attending on the Queen, the dressing in thebedchamber was discontinued, and the Queen, leaving her toilet, withdrewinto her closet to dress. 

On returning into her chamber, the Queen, standing about the middle of it, surrounded by the superintendent, the ladies of honour and tirewomen, herladies of the palace, the chevalier d'honneur, the chief equerry, herclergy ready to attend her to mass, and the Princesses of the royal familywho happened to come, accompanied by all their chief attendants andladies, passed in order into the gallery as in going to mass. The Queen'ssignatures were generally given at the moment of entry into the chamber. The secretary for orders presented the pen. Presentations of colonels ontaking leave were usually made at this time. Those of ladies, and, suchas had a right to the tabouret, or sitting in the royal presence, weremade on Sunday evenings before card-playing began, on their coming in frompaying their respects. Ambassadors were introduced to the Queen onTuesday mornings, accompanied by the introducer of ambassadors on duty, and by M. De Sequeville, the secretary for the ambassadors. Theintroducer in waiting usually came to the Queen at her toilet to appriseher of the presentations of foreigners which would be made. The usher ofthe chamber, stationed at the entrance, opened the folding doors to nonebut the Princes and Princesses of the royal family, and announced themaloud. Quitting his post, he came forward to name to the lady of honourthe persons who came to be presented, or who came to take leave; that ladyagain named them to the Queen at the moment they saluted her; if she andthe tirewoman were absent, the first woman took the place and did thatduty. The ladies of the bedchamber, chosen solely as companions for theQueen, had no domestic duties to fulfil, however opinion might dignifysuch offices. The King's letter in appointing them, among otherinstructions of etiquette, ran thus: "having chosen you to bear the Queencompany. " There were hardly any emoluments accruing from this place. 

The Queen heard mass with the King in the tribune, facing the grand altarand the choir, with the exception of the days of high ceremony, when theirchairs were placed below upon velvet carpets fringed with gold. These dayswere marked by the name of grand chapel day. 

The Queen named the collector beforehand, and informed her of it throughher lady of honour, who was besides desired to send the purse to her. Thecollectors were almost always chosen from among those who had beenrecently presented. After returning from mass the Queen dined everySunday with the King only, in public in the cabinet of the nobility, aroom leading to her chamber. Titled ladies having the honours sat duringthe dinner upon folding-chairs placed on each side of the table. Ladieswithout titles stood round the table; the captain of the Guards and thefirst gentleman of the chamber were behind the King's chair; behind thatof the Queen were her first maitre d'hotel, her chevalier d'honneur, andthe chief equerry. The Queen's maitre d'hotel was furnished with a largestaff, six or seven feet in length, ornamented with golden fleurs-de-lis, and surmounted by fleurs-de-lis in the form of a crown. He entered theroom with this badge of his office to announce that the Queen was served. The comptroller put into his hands the card of the dinner; in the absenceof the maitre d'hotel he presented it to the Queen himself, otherwise heonly did him the honours of the service. The maitre d'hotel did not leavehis place, he merely gave the orders for serving up and removing; thecomptroller and gentlemen serving placed the various dishes upon thetable, receiving them from the inferior servants. 

The Prince nearest to the crown presented water to wash the King's handsat the moment he placed himself at table, and a princess did the sameservice to the Queen. 

The table service was formerly performed for the Queen by the lady ofhonour and four women in full dress; this part of the women's service wastransferred to them on the suppression of the office of maids of honour. The Queen put an end to this etiquette in the first year of her reign. When the dinner was over the Queen returned without the King to herapartment with her women, and took off her hoop and train. 

This unfortunate Princess, against whom the opinions of the French peoplewere at length so much excited, possessed qualities which deserved toobtain the greatest popularity. None could doubt this who, like myself, had heard her with delight describe the patriarchal manners of the Houseof Lorraine. She was accustomed to say that, by transplanting theirmanners into Austria, the Princes of that house had laid the foundation ofthe unassailable popularity enjoyed by the imperial family. Shefrequently related to me the interesting manner in which the Ducs deLorraine levied the taxes. "The sovereign Prince, " said she, "went tochurch; after the sermon he rose, waved his hat in the air, to show thathe was about to speak, and then mentioned the sum whereof he stood inneed. Such was the zeal of the good Lorrainers that men have been knownto take away linen or household utensils without the knowledge of theirwives, and sell them to add the value to their contribution. It sometimeshappened, too, that the Prince received more money than he had asked for, in which case he restored the surplus. "

All who were acquainted with the Queen's private qualities knew that sheequally deserved attachment and esteem. Kind and patient to excess in herrelations with her household, she indulgently considered all around her, and interested herself in their fortunes and in their pleasures. , She had, among her women, young girls from the Maison de St. Cyr, all well born;the Queen forbade them the play when the performances were not suitable;sometimes, when old plays were to be represented, if she found she couldnot with certainty trust to her memory, she would take the trouble to readthem in the morning, to enable her to decide whether the girls should orshould not go to see them, --rightly considering herself bound to watchover their morals and conduct. 

CHAPTER VI. 

During the first few months of his reign Louis XVI. Dwelt at La Muette, Marly, and Compiegne. When settled at Versailles he occupied himself witha general examination of his grandfather's papers. He had promised theQueen to communicate to her all that he might discover relative to thehistory of the man with the iron mask, who, he thought, had become soinexhaustible a source of conjecture only in consequence of the interestwhich the pen of a celebrated writer had excited respecting the detentionof a prisoner of State, who was merely a man of whimsical tastes andhabits. 

I was with the Queen when the King, having finished his researches, informed her that he had not found anything among the secret paperselucidating the existence of this prisoner; that he had conversed on thematter with M. De Maurepas, whose age made him contemporary with the epochduring which the story must have been known to the ministers; and that M. De Maurepas had assured him he was merely a prisoner of a very dangerouscharacter, in consequence of his disposition for intrigue. He was asubject of the Duke of Mantua, and was enticed to the frontier, arrestedthere, and kept prisoner, first at Pignerol, and afterwards in theBastille. This transfer took place in consequence of the appointment ofthe governor of the former place to the government of the latter. It wasfor fear the prisoner should profit by the inexperience of a new governorthat he was sent with the Governor of Pignerol to the Bastille. 

Such was, in fact, the truth about the man on whom people have beenpleased to fix an iron mask. And thus was it related in writing, andpublished by M. ----- twenty years ago. He had searched the archives ofthe Foreign Office, and laid the real story before the public; but thepublic, prepossessed in favour of a marvellous version, would notacknowledge the authenticity of his account. Every man relied upon theauthority of Voltaire; and it was believed that a natural or a twinbrother of Louis XIV. Lived many years in prison with a mask over hisface. The story of this mask, perhaps, had its origin in the old custom, among both men and women in Italy, of wearing a velvet mask when theyexposed themselves to the sun. It is possible that the Italian captivemay have sometimes shown himself upon the terrace of his prison with hisface thus covered. As to the silver plate which this celebrated prisoneris said to have thrown from his window, it is known that such acircumstance did happen, but it happened at Valzin, in the time ofCardinal Richelieu. This anecdote has been mixed up with the inventionsrespecting the Piedmontese prisoner. 

In this survey of the papers of Louis XV. By his grandson some verycurious particulars relative to his private treasury were found. Sharesin various financial companies afforded him a revenue, and had in courseof time produced him a capital of some amount, which he applied to hissecret expenses. The King collected his vouchers of title to theseshares, and made a present of them to M. Thierry de Ville d'Avray, hischief valet de chambre. 

The Queen was desirous to secure the comfort of Mesdames, the daughters ofLouis XV. , who were held in the highest respect. About this period shecontributed to furnish them with a revenue sufficient to provide them aneasy, pleasant existence: The King gave them the Chateau of Bellevue; andadded to the produce of it, which was given up to them, the expenses oftheir table and equipage, and payment of all the charges of theirhousehold, the number of which was even increased. During the lifetime ofLouis XV. , who was a very selfish prince, his daughters, although they hadattained forty years of age, had no other place of residence than theirapartments in the Chateau of Versailles; no other walks than such as theycould take in the large park of that palace; and no other means ofgratifying their taste for the cultivation of plants but by having boxesand vases, filled with them, in their balconies or their closets. Theyhad, therefore, reason to be much pleased with the conduct of MarieAntoinette, who had the greatest influence in the King's kindness towardshis aunts. 

Paris did not cease, during the first years of the reign, to give proofsof pleasure whenever the Queen appeared at any of the plays of thecapital. At the representation of "Iphigenia in Aulis, " the actor whosang the words, "Let us sing, let us celebrate our Queen!" which wererepeated by the chorus, directed by a respectful movement the eyes of thewhole assembly upon her Majesty. Reiterated cries of 'Bis'! and clappingof hands, were followed by such a burst of enthusiasm that many of theaudience added their voices to those of the actors in order to celebrate, it might too truly be said, another Iphigenia. The Queen, deeplyaffected, covered her eyes with her handkerchief; and this proof ofsensibility raised the public enthusiasm to a still higher pitch. 

The King gave Marie Antoinette Petit Trianon. 

[The Chateau of Petit Trianon, which was built for Louis XV. , was notremarkably handsome as a building. The luxuriance of the hothousesrendered the place agreeable to that Prince. He spent a few days thereseveral times in the year. It was when he was setting off from Versaillesfor Petit Trianon that he was struck in the side by the knife of Damiens, and it was there that he was attacked by the smallpox, of which he died onthe 10th of May, 1774. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

Henceforward she amused herself with improving the gardens, withoutallowing any addition to the building, or any change in the furniture, which was very shabby, and remained, in 1789, in the same state as duringthe reign of Louis XV. Everything there, without exception, waspreserved; and the Queen slept in a faded bed, which had been used by theComtesse du Barry. The charge of extravagance, generally made against theQueen, is the most unaccountable of all the popular errors respecting hercharacter. She had exactly the contrary failing; and I could prove thatshe often carried her economy to a degree of parsimony actually blamable, especially in a sovereign. She took a great liking for Trianon, and usedto go there alone, followed by a valet; but she found attendants ready toreceive her, --a concierge and his wife, who served her as femme dechambre, women of the wardrobe, footmen, etc. 

When she first took possession of Petit Trianon, it was reported that shechanged the name of the seat which the King had given her, and called itLittle Vienna, or Little Schoenbrunn. A person who belonged to the Court, and was silly enough to give this report credit, wishing to visit PetitTrianon with a party, wrote to M. Campan, requesting the Queen'spermission to do so. In his note he called Trianon Little Vienna. Similarrequests were usually laid before the Queen just as they were made: shechose to give the permissions to see her gardens herself, liking to grantthese little favours. When she came to the words I have quoted she wasvery, much offended, and exclaimed, angrily, that there were too many, fools ready, to aid the malicious; that she had been told of the reportcirculated, which pretended that she had thought of nothing but her owncountry, and that she kept an Austrian heart, while the interests ofFrance alone ought to engage her. She refused the request so awkwardlymade, and desired M. Campan to reply, that Trianon was not to be seen forsome time, and that the Queen was astonished that any man in good societyshould believe she would do so ill-judged a thing as to change the Frenchnames of her palaces to foreign ones. 

Before the Emperor Joseph II's first visit to France the Queen received avisit from the Archduke Maximilian in 1775. A stupid act of theambassador, seconded on the part of the Queen by the Abbe de Vermond, gaverise at that period to a discussion which offended the Princes of theblood and the chief nobility of the kingdom. Travelling incognito, theyoung Prince claimed that the first visit was not due from him to thePrinces of the blood; and the Queen supported his pretension. 

From the time of the Regency, and on account of the residence of thefamily of Orleans in the bosom of the capital, Paris had preserved aremarkable degree of attachment and respect for that branch of the royalhouse; and although the crown was becoming more and more remote from thePrinces of the House of Orleans, they had the advantage (a great one withthe Parisians) of being the descendants of Henri IV. An affront to thatpopular family was a serious ground of dislike to the Queen. It was atthis period that the circles of the city, and even of the Court, expressedthemselves bitterly about her levity, and her partiality for the House ofAustria. The Prince for whom the Queen had embarked in an importantfamily quarrel--and a quarrel involving national prerogatives--was, besides, little calculated to inspire interest. Still young, uninformed, and deficient in natural talent, he was always making blunders. 

He went to the Jardin du Roi; M. De Buffon, who received him there, offered him a copy of his works; the Prince declined accepting the book, saying to M. De Buffon, in the most polite manner possible, "I should bevery sorry to deprive you of it. "

[Joseph II, on his visit to France, also went to see M. De Buffon, andsaid to that celebrated man, "I am come to fetch the copy of your workswhich my brother forgot. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

It may be supposed that the Parisians were much entertained with thisanswer. 

The Queen was exceedingly mortified at the mistakes made by her brother;but what hurt her most was being accused of preserving an Austrian heart. Marie Antoinette had more than once to endure that imputation during thelong course of her misfortunes. Habit did not stop the tears suchinjustice caused; but the first time she was suspected of not lovingFrance, she gave way to her indignation. All that she could say on thesubject was useless; by seconding the pretensions of the Archduke she hadput arms into her enemies' hands; they were labouring to deprive her ofthe love of the people, and endeavoured, by all possible means, to spreada belief that the Queen sighed for Germany, and preferred that country toFrance. 

Marie Antoinette had none but herself to rely on for preserving the ficklesmiles of the Court and the public. The King, too indifferent to serveher as a guide, as yet had conceived no love for her, notwithstanding theintimacy that grew between them at Choisy. In his closet Louis XVI. Wasimmersed in deep study. At the Council he was busied with the welfare ofhis people; hunting and mechanical occupations engrossed his leisuremoments, and he never thought on the subject of an heir. 

The coronation took place at Rheims, with all the accustomed pomp. Atthis period the people's love for Louis XVI. Burst forth in transportsnot to be mistaken for party demonstrations or idle curiosity. He repliedto this enthusiasm by marks of confidence, worthy of a people happy inbeing governed by a good King; he took a pleasure in repeatedly walkingwithout guards, in the midst of the crowd which pressed around him, andcalled down blessings on his head. I remarked the impression made at thistime by an observation of Louis XVI. On the day of his coronation he puthis hand up to his head, at the moment of the crown being placed upon it, and said, "It pinches me. " Henri III. Had exclaimed, "It pricks me. "Those who were near the King were struck with the similarity between thesetwo exclamations, though not of a class likely to be blinded by thesuperstitious fears of ignorance. 

While the Queen, neglected as she was, could not even hope for thehappiness of being a mother, she had the mortification of seeing theComtesse d'Artois give birth to the Duc d'Angouleme. 

Custom required that the royal family and the whole Court should bepresent at the accouchement of the Princesses; the Queen was thereforeobliged to stay a whole day in her sister-in-law's chamber. The momentthe Comtesse d'Artois was informed a prince was born, she put her hand toher forehead and exclaimed with energy, "My God, how happy I am!" TheQueen felt very differently at this involuntary and natural exclamation. Nevertheless, her behaviour was perfect. She bestowed all possible marksof tenderness upon the young mother, and would not leave her until she wasagain put into bed; she afterwards passed along the staircase, and throughthe hall of the guards, with a calm demeanour, in the midst of an immensecrowd. The poissardes, who had assumed a right of speaking to sovereignsin their own vulgar language, followed her to the very doors of herapartments, calling out to her with gross expressions, that she ought toproduce heirs. The Queen reached her inner room, hurried and agitated; heshut herself up to weep with me alone, not from jealousy of hersister-in-law's happiness, --of that he was incapable, --but from sorrow ather own situation. 

Deprived of the happiness of giving an heir to the crown, the Queenendeavoured to interest herself in the children of the people of herhousehold. She had long been desirous to bring up one of them herself, and to make it the constant object of her care. A little village boy, four or five years old, full of health, with a pleasing countenance, remarkably large blue eyes, and fine light hair, got under the feet of theQueen's horses, when she was taking an airing in a calash, through thehamlet of St. Michel, near Louveciennes. The coachman and postilionsstopped the horses, and the child was rescued without the slightestinjury. Its grandmother rushed out of the door of her cottage to take it;but the Queen, standing up in her calash and extending her arms, calledout that the child was hers, and that destiny had given it to her, toconsole her, no doubt, until she should have the happiness of having oneherself. "Is his mother alive?" asked the Queen. "No, Madame; mydaughter died last winter, and left five small children upon my hands. " "Iwill take this one, and provide for all the rest; do you consent?" "Ah, Madame, they are too fortunate, " replied the cottager; "but Jacques is abad boy. I hope he will stay with you!" The Queen, taking little Jacquesupon her knee, said that she would make him used to her, and gave ordersto proceed. It was necessary, however, to shorten the drive, so violentlydid Jacques scream, and kick the Queen and her ladies. 

The arrival of her Majesty at her apartments at Versailles, holding thelittle rustic by the hand, astonished the whole household; he cried outwith intolerable shrillness that he wanted his grandmother, his brotherLouis, and his sister Marianne; nothing could calm him. He was taken awayby the wife of a servant, who was appointed to attend him as nurse. Theother children were put to school. Little Jacques, whose family name wasArmand, came back to the Queen two days afterwards; a white frock trimmedwith lace, a rose-coloured sash with silver fringe, and a hat decoratedwith feathers, were now substituted for the woollen cap, the little redfrock, and the wooden shoes. The child was really very beautiful. TheQueen was enchanted with him; he was brought to her every morning at nineo'clock; he breakfasted and dined with her, and often even with the King. She liked to call him my child, and lavished caresses upon him, stillmaintaining a deep silence respecting the regrets which constantlyoccupied her heart. 

[This little unfortunate was nearly twenty in 1792; the fury of the peopleand the fear of being thought a favourite of the Queen's had made him themost sanguinary terrorist of Versailles. He was killed at the battle ofJemappes. ]

This child remained with the Queen until the time when Madame was oldenough to come home to her august mother, who had particularly taken uponherself the care of her education. 

The Queen talked incessantly of the qualities which she admired in LouisXVI. , and gladly attributed to herself the slightest favourable change inhis manner; perhaps she displayed too unreservedly the joy she felt, andthe share she appropriated in the improvement. One day Louis XVI. Salutedher ladies with more kindness than usual, and the Queen laughingly said tothem, "Now confess, ladies, that for one so badly taught as a child, theKing has saluted you with very good grace!"

The Queen hated M. De La Vauguyon; she accused him alone of those pointsin the habits, and even the sentiments, of the King which hurt her. Aformer first woman of the bedchamber to Queen Maria Leczinska hadcontinued in office near the young Queen. She was one of those people whoare fortunate enough to spend their lives in the service of kings withoutknowing anything of what is passing at Court. She was a great devotee;the Abbe Grisel, an ex-Jesuit, was her director. Being rich from hersavings and an income of 50, 000 livres, she kept a very good table; in herapartment, at the Grand Commun, the most distinguished persons who stilladhered to the Order of Jesuits often assembled. The Duc de La Vauguyonwas intimate with her; their chairs at the Eglise des Reollets were placednear each other; at high mass and at vespers they sang the "Gloria inExcelsis" and the "Magnificat" together; and the pious virgin, seeing inhim only one of God's elect, little imagined him to be the declared enemyof a Princess whom she served and revered. On the day of his death she ranin tears to relate to the Queen the piety, humility, and repentance of thelast moments of the Duc de La Vauguyon. He had called his peopletogether, she said, to ask their pardon. "For what?" replied the Queen, sharply; "he has placed and pensioned off all his servants; it was of theKing and his brothers that the holy man you bewail should have askedpardon, for having paid so little attention to the education of princes onwhom the fate and happiness of twenty-five millions of men depend. Luckily, " added she, "the King and his brothers, still young, haveincessantly laboured to repair the errors of their preceptor. "

The progress of time, and the confidence with which the King and thePrinces, his brothers, were inspired by the change in their situationsince the death of Louis XV. , had developed their characters. I willendeavour to depict them. 

The features of Louis XVI. Were noble enough, though somewhat melancholyin expression; his walk was heavy and unmajestic; his person greatlyneglected; his hair, whatever might be the skill of his hairdresser, wassoon in disorder. His voice, without being harsh, was not agreeable; ifhe grew animated in speaking he often got above his natural pitch, andbecame shrill. The Abbe de Radonvilliers, his preceptor, one of the Fortyof the French Academy, a learned and amiable man, had given him andMonsieur a taste for study. The King had continued to instruct himself;he knew the English language perfectly; I have often heard him translatesome of the most difficult passages in Milton's poems. He was a skilfulgeographer, and was fond of drawing and colouring maps; he was well versedin history, but had not perhaps sufficiently studied the spirit of it. Heappreciated dramatic beauties, and judged them accurately. At Choisy, oneday, several ladies expressed their dissatisfaction because the Frenchactors were going to perform one of Moliere's pieces. The King inquiredwhy they disapproved of the choice. One of them answered that everybodymust admit that Moliere had very bad taste; the King replied that manythings might be found in Moliere contrary to fashion, but that it appearedto him difficult to point out any in bad taste?

[The King, having purchased the Chateau of Rambouillet from the Duc dePenthievre, amused himself with embellishing it. I have seen a registerentirely in his own handwriting, which proves that he possessed a greatvariety of information on the minutiae of various branches of knowledge. In his accounts he would not omit an outlay of a franc. His figures andletters, when he wished to write legibly, were small and very neat, but ingeneral he wrote very ill. He was so sparing of paper that he divided asheet into eight, six, or four pieces, according to the length of what hehad to write. Towards the close of the page he compressed the letters, andavoided interlineations. The last words were close to the edge of thepaper; he seemed to regret being obliged to begin another page. He wasmethodical and analytical; he divided what he wrote into chapters andsections. He had extracted from the works of Nicole and Fenelon, hisfavourite authors, three or four hundred concise and sententious phrases;these he had classed according to subject, and formed a work of them inthe style of Montesquieu. To this treatise he had given the followinggeneral title: "Of Moderate Monarchy" (De la Monarchie temperee), withchapters entitled, "Of the Person of the Prince;" "Of the Authority ofBodies in the State;" "Of the Character of the Executive Functions of theMonarchy. " Had he been able to carry into effect all the grand preceptshe had observed in Fenelon, Louis XVI. Would have been an accomplishedmonarch, and France a powerful kingdom. The King used to accept thespeeches his ministers presented to him to deliver on important occasions;but he corrected and modified them; struck out some parts, and addedothers; and sometimes consulted the Queen on the subject. The phrase ofthe minister erased by the King was frequently unsuitable, and dictated bythe minister's private feelings; but the King's was always the naturalexpression. He himself composed, three times or oftener, his famousanswers to the Parliament which he banished. But in his letters he wasnegligent, and always incorrect. Simplicity was the characteristic of theKing's style; the figurative style of M. Necker did not please him; thesarcasms of Maurepas were disagreeable to him. Unfortunate Prince! hewould predict, in his observations, that if such a calamity should happen, the monarchy would be ruined; and the next day he would consent in Councilto the very measure which he had condemned the day before, and whichbrought him nearer the brink of the precipice. --SOULAVIE, "Historical andPolitical Memoirs of the Reign of Louis XVI. , " vol. Ii. ]

This Prince combined with his attainments the attributes of a goodhusband, a tender father, and an indulgent master. 

Unfortunately he showed too much predilection for the mechanical arts;masonry and lock-making so delighted him that he admitted into his privateapartment a common locksmith, with whom he made keys and locks; and hishands, blackened by that sort of work, were often, in my presence, thesubject of remonstrances and even sharp reproaches from the Queen, whowould have chosen other amusements for her husband. 

[Louis XVI. Saw that the art of lock-making was capable of application toa higher study, He was an excellent geographer. The most valuable andcomplete instrument for the study of that science was begun by his ordersand under his direction. It was an immense globe of copper, which waslong preserved, though unfinished, in the Mazarine library. Louis XVI. Invented and had executed under his own eyes the ingenious mechanismrequired for this globe. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Austere and rigid with regard to himself alone, the King observed the lawsof the Church with scrupulous exactness. He fasted and abstainedthroughout the whole of Lent. He thought it right that the queen shouldnot observe these customs with the same strictness. Though sincerelypious, the spirit of the age had disposed his mind to toleration. Turgot, Malesherbes, and Necker judged that this Prince, modest and simple in hishabits, would willingly sacrifice the royal prerogative to the solidgreatness of his people. His heart, in truth, disposed him towardsreforms; but his prejudices and fears, and the clamours of pious andprivileged persons, intimidated him, and made him abandon plans which hislove for the people had suggested. 

Monsieur had more dignity of demeanour than the King; but his corpulencerendered his gait inelegant. He was fond of pageantry and magnificence. He cultivated the belles lettres, and under assumed names oftencontributed verses to the Mercury and other papers. 

[During his stay at Avignon, Monsieur, afterwards Louis XVIII, lodged withthe Duc de Crillon; he refused the town-guard which was offered him, saying, "A son of France, under the roof of a Crillon, needs noguard. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

His wonderful memory was the handmaid of his wit, furnishing him with thehappiest quotations. He knew by heart a varied repertoire, from thefinest passages of the Latin classics to the Latin of all the prayers, from the works of Racine to the vaudeville of "Rose et Colas. "

The Comte d'Artoisi had an agreeable countenance, was well made, skilfulin bodily exercises, lively, impetuous, fond of pleasure, and veryparticular in his dress. Some happy observations made by him wererepeated with approval, and gave a favourable idea of his heart. TheParisians liked the open and frank character of this Prince, which theyconsidered national, and showed real affection for him. 

The dominion that the Queen gained over the King's mind, the charms of asociety in which Monsieur displayed his wit, and to which the Comted'Artois--[Afterwards Charles X. ]--gave life by the vivacity of youth, gradually softened that ruggedness of manner in Louis XVI. Which abetter-conducted education might have prevented. Still, this defect oftenshowed itself, and, in spite of his extreme simplicity, the King inspiredthose who had occasion to speak to him with diffidence. Courtiers, submissive in the presence of their sovereign, are only the more ready tocaricature him; with little good breeding, they called those answers theyso much dreaded, Les coups de boutoir du Roi. --[The literal meaning of thephrase "coup de boutoir, " is a thrust from the snout of a boar. ]

Methodical in all his habits, the King always went to bed at elevenprecisely. One evening the Queen was going with her usual circle to aparty, either at the Duc de Duras's or the Princesse de Glumenee's. Thehand of the clock was slily put forward to hasten the King's departure bya few minutes; he thought bed-time was come, retired, and found none ofhis attendants ready to wait on him. This joke became known in all thedrawing-rooms of Versailles, and was disapproved of there. Kings have noprivacy. Queens have no boudoirs. If those who are in immediateattendance upon sovereigns be not themselves disposed to transmit theirprivate habits to posterity, the meanest valet will relate what he hasseen or heard; his gossip circulates rapidly, and forms public opinion, which at length ascribes to the most august persons characters which, however untrue they may be, are almost always indelible. 

NOTE. The only passion ever shown by Louis XVI. Was for hunting. He wasso much occupied by it that when I went up into his private closets atVersailles, after the 10th of August, I saw upon the staircase six frames, in which were seen statements of all his hunts, when Dauphin and whenKing. In them was detailed the number, kind, and quality of the game hehad killed at each hunting party during every month, every season, andevery year of his reign. 

The interior of his private apartments was thus arranged: a salon, ornamented with gilded mouldings, displayed the engravings which had beendedicated to him, drawings of the canals he had dug, with the model ofthat of Burgundy, and the plan of the cones and works of Cherbourg. Theupper hall contained his collection of geographical charts, spheres, globes, and also his geographical cabinet. There were to be seen drawingsof maps which he had begun, and some that he had finished. He had aclever method of washing them in. His geographical memory was prodigious. Over the hall was the turning and joining room, furnished with ingeniousinstruments for working in wood. He inherited some from Louis XV. , and heoften busied himself, with Duret's assistance, in keeping them clean andbright. Above was the library of books published during his reign. Theprayer books and manuscript books of Anne of Brittany, Francois I, thelater Valois, Louis XIV. , Louis XV. , and the Dauphin formed the greathereditary library of the Chateau. Louis XVI. Placed separately, in twoapartments communicating with each other, the works of his own time, including a complete collection of Didot's editions, in vellum, everyvolume enclosed in a morocco case. There were several English works, among the rest the debates of the British Parliament, in a great number ofvolumes in folio (this is the Moniteur of England, a complete collectionof which is so valuable and so scarce). By the side of this collection wasto be seen a manuscript history of all the schemes for a descent upon thatisland, particularly that of Comte de Broglie. One of the presses of thiscabinet was full of cardboard boxes, containing papers relative to theHouse of Austria, inscribed in the King's own hand: "Secret papers of myfamily respecting the House of Austria; papers of my family respecting theHouses of Stuart and Hanover. " In an adjoining press were kept papersrelative to Russia. Satirical works against Catherine II. And againstPaul I. Were sold in France under the name of histories; Louis XVIII. Collected and sealed up with his small seal the scandalous anecdotesagainst Catherine II. , as well as the works of Rhulieres, of which he hada copy, to be certain that the secret life of that Princess, whichattracted the curiosity of her contemporaries, should not be made publicby his means. 

Above the King's private library were a forge, two anvils, and a vastnumber of iron tools; various common locks, well made and perfect; somesecret locks, and locks ornamented with gilt copper. It was there thatthe infamous Gamin, who afterwards accused the King of having tried topoison him, and was rewarded for his calumny with a pension of twelvethousand livres, taught him the art of lock-making. This Gamin, whobecame our guide, by order of the department and municipality ofVersailles, did not, however, denounce the King on the 20th December, 1792. He had been made the confidant of that Prince in an immense numberof important commissions; the King had sent him the "Red Book, " fromParis, in a parcel; and the part which was concealed during theConstituent Assembly still remained so in 1793. Gamin hid it in a part ofthe Chateau inaccessible to everybody, and took it from under the shelvesof a secret press before our eyes. This is a convincing proof that LouisXVI. Hoped to return to his Chiteau. When teaching Louis XVI. His tradeGamin took upon himself the tone and authority of a master. "The King wasgood, forbearing, timid, inquisitive, and addicted to sleep, " said Gaminto me; "he was fond to excess of lock-making, and he concealed himselffrom the Queen and the Court to file and forge with me. In order to conveyhis anvil and my own backwards and forwards we were obliged to use athousand stratagems, the history of which would: never end. " Above theKing's and Gamin's forges and anvils was an, observatory, erected upon aplatform covered with lead. There, seated on an armchair, and assisted bya telescope, the King observed all that was passing in the courtyards ofVersailles, the avenue of Paris, and the neighbouring gardens. He hadtaken a liking to Duret, one of the indoor servants of the palace, whosharpened his tools, cleaned his anvils, pasted his maps, and adjustedeyeglasses to the King's sight, who was short-sighted. This good Duret, and indeed all the indoor servants, spoke of their master with regret andaffection, and with tears in their eyes. 

The King was born weak and delicate; but from the age of twenty-four hepossessed a robust constitution, inherited from his mother, who was of theHouse of Saxe, celebrated for generations for its robustness. There weretwo men in Louis XVI. , the man of knowledge and the man of will. The Kingknew the history of his own family and of the first houses of Franceperfectly. He composed the instructions for M. De la Peyrouse's voyageround the world, which the minister thought were drawn up by severalmembers of the Academy of Sciences. His memory retained an infinitenumber of names and situations. He remembered quantities and numberswonderfully. One day an account was presented to him in which theminister had ranked among the expenses an item inserted in the account ofthe preceding year. "There is a double charge, " said the King; "bring melast year's account, and I will show it yet there. " When the King wasperfectly master of the details of any matter, and saw injustice, he wasobdurate even to harshness. Then he would be obeyed instantly, in orderto be sure that he was obeyed. 

But in important affairs of state the man of will was not to be found. Louis XVI. Was upon the throne exactly what those weak temperaments whomnature has rendered incapable of an opinion are in society. In hispusillanimity, he gave his confidence to a minister; and although amidstvarious counsels he often knew which was the best, he never had theresolution to say, "I prefer the opinion of such a one. " Hereinoriginated the misfortunes of the State. --SOULAVIE'S "Historical andPolitical Memoirs Of the Reign Of LOUIS XVI. , " VOL ii. 

CHAPTER VII. 

The winter following the confinement of the Comtesse d'Artois was verysevere; the recollections of the pleasure which sleighing-parties hadgiven the Queen in her childhood made her wish to introduce similar onesin France. This amusement had already been known in that Court, as wasproved by sleighs being found in the stables which had been used by theDauphin, the father of Louis XVI. Some were constructed for the Queen ina more modern style. The Princes also ordered several; and in a few daysthere was a tolerable number of these vehicles. They were driven by theprinces and noblemen of the Court. The noise of the bells and balls withwhich the harness of the horses was furnished, the elegance and whitenessof their plumes, the varied forms of the carriages, the gold with whichthey were all ornamented, rendered these parties delightful to the eye. The winter was very favourable to them, the snow remaining on the groundnearly six weeks; the drives in the park afforded a pleasure shared by thespectators. 

[Louis XVI. , touched with the wretched condition of the poor of Versaillesduring the winter of 1776, had several cart-loads of wood distributedamong them. Seeing one day a file of those vehicles passing by, whileseveral noblemen were preparing to be drawn swiftly over the ice, heuttered these memorable words: "Gentlemen, here are my sleighs!"--NOTE BYTHE EDITOR. ]

No one imagined that any blame could attach to so innocent an amusement. But the party were tempted to extend their drives as far as the ChampsElysees; a few sleighs even crossed the boulevards; the ladies beingmasked, the Queen's enemies took the opportunity of saying that she hadtraversed the streets of Paris in a sleigh. 

This became a matter of moment. The public discovered in it apredilection for the habits of Vienna; but all that Marie Antoinette didwas criticised. 

Sleigh-driving, savouring of the Northern Courts, had no favour among theParisians. The Queen was informed of this; and although all the sleighswere preserved, and several subsequent winters lent themselves to theamusement, she would not resume it. 

It was at the time of the sleighing-parties that the Queen becameintimately acquainted with the Princesse de Lamballe, who made herappearance in them wrapped in fur, with all the brilliancy and freshnessof the age of twenty, --the emblem of spring, peeping from under sable andermine. Her situation, moreover, rendered her peculiarly interesting;married, when she was scarcely past childhood, to a young prince, whoruined himself by the contagious example of the Duc d'Orleans, she had hadnothing to do from the time of her arrival in France but to weep. A widowat eighteen, and childless, she lived with the Duc de Penthievre as anadopted daughter. She had the tenderest respect and attachment for thatvenerable Prince; but the Queen, though doing justice to his virtues, sawthat the Duc de Penthievre's way of life, whether at Paris or at hiscountry-seat, could neither afford his young daughter-in-law theamusements suited to her time of life, nor ensure her in the future anestablishment such as she was deprived of by her widowhood. Shedetermined, therefore, to establish her at Versailles; and for her sakerevived the office of superintendent, which had been discontinued at Courtsince the death of Mademoiselle de Clermont. It is said that MariaLeczinska had decided that this place should continue vacant, thesuperintendent having so extensive a power in the houses of queens as tobe frequently a restraint upon their inclinations. Differences which soontook place between Marie Antoinette and the Princesse de Lamballerespecting the official prerogatives of the latter, proved that the wifeof Louis XV. Had acted judiciously in abolishing the office; but a kind oftreaty made between the Queen and the Princess smoothed all difficulties. The blame for too strong an assertion of claims fell upon a secretary ofthe superintendent, who had been her adviser; and everything was soarranged that a firm friendship existed between these two Princesses downto the disastrous period which terminated their career. 

Notwithstanding the enthusiasm which the splendour, grace, and kindness ofthe Queen generally inspired, secret intrigues continued in operationagainst her. A short time after the ascension of Louis XVI. To thethrone, the minister of the King's household was informed that a mostoffensive libel against the Queen was about to appear. The lieutenant ofpolice deputed a man named Goupil, a police inspector, to trace thislibel; he came soon after to say that he had found out the place where thework was being printed, and that it was at a country house near Yverdun. He had already got possession of two sheets, which contained the mostatrocious calumnies, conveyed with a degree of art which might make themvery dangerous to the Queen's reputation. Goupil said that he couldobtain the rest, but that he should want a considerable sum for thatpurpose. Three thousand Louis were given him, and very soon afterwards hebrought the whole manuscript and all that had been printed to thelieutenant of police. He received a thousand louis more as a reward forhis address and zeal; and a much more important office was about to begiven him, when another spy, envious of Goupil's good fortune, gaveinformation that Goupil himself was the author of the libel; that, tenyears before, he had been put into the Bicetre for swindling; and thatMadame Goupil had been only three years out of the Salpetriere, where shehad been placed under another name. This Madame Goupil was very prettyand very intriguing; she had found means to form an intimacy with Cardinalde Rohan, whom she led, it is said, to hope for a reconciliation with theQueen. All this affair was hushed up; but it shows that it was theQueen's fate to be incessantly attacked by the meanest and most odiousmachinations. 

Another woman, named Cahouette de Millers, whose husband held an office inthe Treasury, being very irregular in conduct, and of a scheming turn ofmind, had a mania for appearing in the eyes of her friends at Paris as aperson in favour at Court, to which she was not entitled by either birthor office. During the latter years of the life of Louis XV. She had mademany dupes, and picked up considerable sums by passing herself off as theKing's mistress. The fear of irritating Madame du Barry was, according toher, the only thing which prevented her enjoying that title openly. Shecame regularly to Versailles, kept herself concealed in a furnishedlodging, and her dupes imagined she was secretly summoned to Court. 

This woman formed the scheme of getting admission, if possible, to thepresence of the Queen, or at least causing it to be believed that she haddone so. She adopted as her lover Gabriel de Saint Charles, intendant ofher Majesty's finances, --an office, the privileges of which were confinedto the right of entering the Queen's apartment on Sunday. Madame deVillers came every Saturday to Versailles with M. De Saint Charles, andlodged in his apartment. M. Campan was there several times. She paintedtolerably well, and she requested him to do her the favour to present tothe Queen a portrait of her Majesty which she had just copied. M. Campanknew the woman's character, and refused her. A few days after, he saw onher Majesty's couch the portrait which he had declined to present to her;the Queen thought it badly painted, and gave orders that it should becarried back to the Princesse de Lamballe, who had sent it to her. Theill success of the portrait did not deter the manoeuvrer from following upher designs; she easily procured through M. De Saint Charles patents andorders signed by the Queen; she then set about imitating her writing, andcomposed a great number of notes and letters, as if written by herMajesty, in the tenderest and most familiar style. For many months sheshowed them as great secrets to several of her particular friends. Afterwards, she made the Queen appear to write to her, to procure variousfancy articles. Under the pretext of wishing to execute her Majesty'scommissions accurately, she gave these letters to the tradesmen to read, and succeeded in having it said, in many houses, that the Queen had aparticular regard for her. She then enlarged her scheme, and representedthe Queen as desiring to borrow 200, 000 francs which she had need of, butwhich she did not wish to ask of the King from his private funds. Thisletter, being shown to M. Beranger, 'fermier general' of the finances, took effect; he thought himself fortunate in being able to render thisassistance to his sovereign, and lost no time in sending the 200, 000francs to Madame de Villers. This first step was followed by some doubts, which he communicated to people better informed than himself of what waspassing at Court; they added to his uneasiness; he then went to M. DeSartine, who unravelled the whole plot. The woman was sent to St. Pelagie; and the unfortunate husband was ruined, by replacing the sumborrowed, and by paying for the jewels fraudulently purchased in theQueen's name. The forged letters were sent to her Majesty; I comparedthem in her presence with her own handwriting, and the onlydistinguishable difference was a little more regularity in the letters. 

This trick, discovered and punished with prudence and without passion, produced no more sensation out of doors than that of the Inspector Goupil. 

A year after the nomination of Madame de Lamballe to the post ofsuperintendent of the Queen's household, balls and quadrilles gave rise tothe intimacy of her Majesty with the Comtesse Jules de Polignac. Thislady really interested Marie Antoinette. She was not rich, and generallylived upon her estate at Claye. The Queen was astonished at not havingseen her at Court earlier. The confession that her want of fortune hadeven prevented her appearance at the celebration of the marriages of thePrinces added to the interest which she had inspired. 

The Queen was full of consideration, and took delight in counteracting theinjustice of fortune. The Countess was induced to come to Court by herhusband's sister, Madame Diane de Polignac, who had been appointed lady ofhonour to the Comtesse d'Artois. The Comtesse Jules was really fond of atranquil life; the impression she made at Court affected her but little;she felt only the attachment manifested for her by the Queen. I hadoccasion to see her from the commencement of her favour at Court; sheoften passed whole hours with me, while waiting for the Queen. Sheconversed with me freely and ingenuously about the honour, and at the sametime the danger, she saw in the kindness of which she was the object. TheQueen sought for the sweets of friendship; but can this gratification, sorare in any rank, exist between a Queen and a subject, when they aresurrounded, moreover, by snares laid by the artifice of courtiers? Thispardonable error was fatal to the happiness of Marie Antoinette. 

The retiring character of the Comtesse Jules, afterwards Duchesse dePolignac, cannot be spoken of too favourably; but if her heart wasincapable of forming ambitious projects, her family and friends in herfortune beheld their own, and endeavoured to secure the favour of theQueen. 

[The Comtesse, afterwards Duchesse de Polignac, nee Polastron, Married theComte (in 1780 the Duc) Jules de Polignac, the father of the Prince dePolignac of Napoleon's and of Charles X. 's time. She emigrated in 1789, and died in Vienna in 1793. ]

The Comtesse de Diane, sister of M. De Polignac, and the Baron de Besenvaland M. De Vaudreuil, particular friends of the Polignac family, made useof means, the success of which was infallible. One of my friends (Comtede Moustier), who was in their secret, came to tell me that Madame dePolignac was about to quit Versailles suddenly; that she would take leaveof the Queen only in writing; that the Comtesse Diane and M. De Vaudreuilhad dictated her letter, and the whole affair was arranged for the purposeof stimulating the attachment of Marie Antoinette. The next day, when Iwent up to the palace, I found the Queen with a letter in her hand, whichshe was reading with much emotion; it was the letter from the ComtesseJules; the Queen showed it to me. The Countess expressed in it her griefat leaving a princess who had loaded her with kindness. The narrowness ofher fortune compelled her to do so; but she was much more stronglyimpelled by the fear that the Queen's friendship, after having raised updangerous enemies against her, might abandon her to their hatred, and tothe regret of having lost the august favour of which she was the object. 

This step produced the full effect that had been expected from it. Ayoung and sensitive queen cannot long bear the idea of contradiction. Shebusied herself in settling the Comtesse Jules near her, by making such aprovision for her as should place her beyond anxiety. Her charactersuited the Queen; she had merely natural talents, no pedantry, noaffectation of knowledge. She was of middle size; her complexion veryfair, her eyebrows and hair dark brown, her teeth superb, her smileenchanting, and her whole person graceful. She was seen almost always ina demi-toilet, remarkable only for neatness and good taste. I do notthink I ever once saw diamonds about her, even at the climax of herfortune, when she had the rank of Duchess at Court. 

I have always believed that her sincere attachment for the Queen, as muchas her love of simplicity, induced her to avoid everything that mightcause her to be thought a wealthy favourite. She had not one of thefailings which usually accompany that position. She loved the persons whoshared the Queen's affections, and was entirely free from jealousy. MarieAntoinette flattered herself that the Comtesse Jules and the Princesse deLamballe would be her especial friends, and that she should possess asociety formed according to her own taste. "I will receive them in mycloset, or at Trianon, " said she; "I will enjoy the comforts of privatelife, which exist not for us, unless we have the good sense to secure themfor ourselves. " The happiness the Queen thought to secure was destined toturn to vexation. All those courtiers who were not admitted to thisintimacy became so many jealous and vindictive enemies. 

It was necessary to make a suitable provision for the Countess. The placeof first equerry, in reversion after the Comte de Tesse, given to ComteJules unknown to the titular holder, displeased the family of Noailles. This family had just sustained another mortification, the appointment ofthe Princesse de Lamballe having in some degree rendered necessary theresignation of the Comtesse de Noailles, whose husband was thereupon madea marshal of France. The Princesse de Lamballe, although she did notquarrel with the Queen, was alarmed at the establishment of the ComtesseJules at Court, and did not form, as her Majesty had hoped, a part of thatintimate society, which was in turn composed of Mesdames Jules and Dianede Polignac, d'Andlau and de Chalon, and Messieurs de Guignes, de Coigny, d'Adhemar, de Besenval, lieutenant-colonel of the Swiss, de Polignac, deVaudreuil, and de Guiche; the Prince de Ligne and the Duke of Dorset, theEnglish ambassador, were also admitted. 

It was a long time before the Comtesse Jules maintained any great state atCourt. The Queen contented herself with giving her very fine apartmentsat the top of the marble staircase. The salary of first equerry, thetrifling emoluments derived from M. De Polignac's regiment, added to theirslender patrimony, and perhaps some small pension, at that time formed thewhole fortune of the favourite. I never saw the Queen make her a presentof value; I was even astonished one day at hearing her Majesty mention, with pleasure, that the Countess had gained ten thousand francs in thelottery. "She was in great want of it, " added the Queen. 

Thus the Polignacs were not settled at Court in any degree of splendourwhich could justify complaints from others, and the substantial favoursbestowed upon that family were less envied than the intimacy between themand their proteges and the Queen. Those who had no hope of entering thecircle of the Comtesse Jules were made jealous by the opportunities ofadvancement it afforded. 

However, at the time I speak of, the society around the Comtesse Jules wasfully engaged in gratifying the young Queen. Of this the Marquis deVaudreuil was a conspicuous member; he was a brilliant man, the friend andprotector of men of letters and celebrated artists. 

The Baron de Besenval added to the bluntness of the Swiss all theadroitness of a French courtier. His fifty years and gray hairs made himenjoy among women the confidence inspired by mature age, although he hadnot given up the thought of love affairs. He talked of his nativemountains with enthusiasm. He would at any time sing the "Ranz desVaches" with tears in his eyes, and was the best story-teller in theComtesse Jules's circle. The last new song or 'bon mot' and the gossip ofthe day were the sole topics of conversation in the Queen's parties. Witwas banished from them. The Comtesse Diane, more inclined to literarypursuits than her sister-in-law, one day, recommended her to read the"Iliad" and "Odyssey. " The latter replied, laughing, that she wasperfectly acquainted with the Greek poet, and said to prove it:

"Homere etait aveugle et jouait du hautbois. "

(Homer was blind and played on the hautboy. )

[This lively repartee of the Duchesse de Polignac is a droll imitation ofa line in the "Mercure Galant. " In the quarrel scene one of the lawyerssays to his brother quill: 'Ton pere etait aveugle et jouait duhautbois. ']

The Queen found this sort of humour very much to her taste, and said thatno pedant should ever be her friend. 

Before the Queen fixed her assemblies at Madame de Polignac's, sheoccasionally passed the evening at the house of the Duc and Duchesse deDuras, where a brilliant party of young persons met together. Theyintroduced a taste for trifling games, such as question and answer, 'guerre panpan', blind man's buff, and especially a game called'descampativos'. The people of Paris, always criticising, but alwaysimitating the customs of the Court, were infected with the mania for thesechildish sports. Madame de Genlis, sketching the follies of the day inone of her plays, speaks of these famous 'descampativos'; and also of therage for making a friend, called the 'inseparable', until a whim or theslightest difference might occasion a total rupture. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Duc de Choiseul had reappeared at Court on the ceremony of the King'scoronation for the first time after his disgrace under Louis XV. In 1770. The state of public feeling on the subject gave his friends hope of seeinghim again in administration, or in the Council of State; but the oppositeparty was too firmly seated at Versailles, and the young Queen's influencewas outweighed, in the mind of the King, by long-standing prejudices; shetherefore gave up for ever her attempt to reinstate the Duke. Thus thisPrincess, who has been described as so ambitious, and so strenuouslysupporting the interest of the House of Austria, failed twice in the onlyscheme which could forward the views constantly attributed to her; andspent the whole of her reign surrounded by enemies of herself and herhouse. 

Marie Antoinette took little pains to promote literature and the finearts. She had been annoyed in consequence of having ordered a performanceof the "Connstable de Bourbon, " on the celebration of the marriage ofMadame Clotilde with the Prince of Piedmont. The Court and the people ofParis censured as indecorous the naming characters in the piece after thereigning family, and that with which the new alliance was formed. Thereading of this piece by the Comte de Guibert in the Queen's closet hadproduced in her Majesty's circle that sort of enthusiasm which obscuresthe judgment. She promised herself she would have no more readings. Yet, at the request of M. De Cubieres, the King's equerry, the Queen agreed tohear the reading of a comedy written by his brother. She collected herintimate circle, Messieurs de Coigny, de Vaudreuil, de Besenval, Mesdamesde Polignac, de Chalon, etc. , and to increase the number of judges, sheadmitted the two Parnys, the Chevalier de Bertin, my father-in-law, andmyself. 

Mold read for the author. I never could satisfy myself by what magic theskilful reader gained our unanimous approbation of a ridiculous work. Surely the delightful voice of Mold, by awakening our recollection of thedramatic beauties of the French stage, prevented the wretched lines ofDorat Cubieres from striking on our ears. I can assert that theexclamation Charming! charming! repeatedly interrupted the reader. Thepiece was admitted for performance at Fontainebleau; and for the firsttime the King had the curtain dropped before the end of the play. It wascalled the "Dramomane" or "Dramaturge. " All the characters died of eatingpoison in a pie. The Queen, highly disconcerted at having recommendedthis absurd production, announced that she would never hear anotherreading; and this time she kept her word. 

The tragedy of "Mustapha and Mangir, " by M. De Chamfort, was highlysuccessful at the Court theatre at Fontainebleau. The Queen procured theauthor a pension of 1, 200 francs, but his play failed on being performedat Paris. 

The spirit of opposition which prevailed in that city delighted inreversing the verdicts of the Court. The Queen determined never again togive any marked countenance to new dramatic works. She reserved herpatronage for musical composers, and in a few years their art arrived at aperfection it had never before attained in France. 

It was solely to gratify the Queen that the manager of the Opera broughtthe first company of comic actors to Paris. Gluck, Piccini, and Sacchiniwere attracted there in succession. These eminent composers were treatedwith great distinction at Court. Immediately on his arrival in France, Gluck was admitted to the Queen's toilet, and she talked to him all thetime he remained with her. She asked him one day whether he had nearlybrought his grand opera of "Armide" to a conclusion, and whether itpleased him. Gluck replied very coolly, in his German accent, "Madame, itwill soon be finished, and really it will be superb. " There was a greatoutcry against the confidence with which the composer had spoken of one ofhis own productions. The Queen defended him warmly; she insisted that hecould not be ignorant of the merit of his works; that he well knew theywere generally admired, and that no doubt he was afraid lest a modesty, merely dictated by politeness, should look like affectation in him. 

[Gluck often had to deal with self-sufficiency equal to his own. He wasvery reluctant to introduce long ballets into "Iphigenia. " Vestris deeplyregretted that the opera was not terminated by a piece they called achaconne, in which he displayed all his power. He complained to Gluckabout it. Gluck, who treated his art with all the dignity it merits, replied that in so interesting a subject dancing would be misplaced. Being pressed another time by Vestris on the same subject, "A chaconne! Achaconne!" roared out the enraged musician; "we must describe the Greeks;and had the Greeks chaconnes?" "They had not?" returned the astonisheddancer; "why, then, so much the worse for them!"--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

The Queen did not confine her admiration to the lofty style of the Frenchand Italian operas; she greatly valued Gretry's music, so well adapted tothe spirit and feeling of the words. A great deal of the poetry set tomusic by Gretry is by Marmontel. The day after the first performance of"Zemira and Azor, " Marmontel and Gretry were presented to the Queen as shewas passing through the gallery of Fontainebleau to go to mass. The Queencongratulated Gretry on the success of the new opera, and told him thatshe had dreamed of the enchanting effect of the trio by Zemira's fatherand sisters behind the magic mirror. Gretry, in a transport of joy, tookMarmontel in his arms, "Ah! my friend, " cried he, "excellent music may bemade of this. "--"And execrable words, " coolly observed Marmontel, to whomher Majesty had not addressed a single compliment. 

The most indifferent artists were permitted to have the honour of paintingthe Queen. A full-length portrait, representing her in all the pomp ofroyalty, was exhibited in the gallery of Versailles. This picture, whichwas intended for the Court of Vienna, was executed by a man who does notdeserve even to be named, and disgusted all people of taste. It seemed asif this art had, in France, retrograded several centuries. 

The Queen had not that enlightened judgment, or even that mere taste, which enables princes to foster and protect great talents. She confessedfrankly that she saw no merit in any portrait beyond the likeness. Whenshe went to the Louvre, she would run hastily over all the little "genre"pictures, and come out, as she acknowledged, without having once raisedher eyes to the grand compositions. 

There is no good portrait of the Queen, save that by Werthmuller, chiefpainter to the King of Sweden, which was sent to Stockholm, and that byMadame Lebrun, which was saved from the revolutionary fury by thecommissioners for the care of the furniture at Versailles. 

[A sketch of very great interest made when the Queen was in the Temple anddiscovered many years afterwards there, recently reproduced in the memoirsof the Marquise de Tourzel (Paris, Plon), is the last authentic portraitof the unhappy Queen. See also the catalogue of portraits made by LordRonald Gower. ]

The composition of the latter picture resembles that of Henriette ofFrance, the wife of the unfortunate Charles I. , painted by Vandyke. LikeMarie Antoinette, she is seated, surrounded by her children, and thatresemblance adds to the melancholy interest raised by this beautifulproduction. 

While admitting that the Queen gave no direct encouragement to any art butthat of music, I should be wrong to pass over in silence the patronageconferred by her and the Princes, brothers of the King, on the art ofprinting. 

[In 1790 the King gave a proof of his particular good-will to thebookselling trade. A company consisting of the first Parisianbooksellers, being on the eve of stopping payment, succeeded in layingbefore the King a statement of their distressed situation. The monarch wasaffected by it; he took from the civil list the sum of which the societystood in immediate need, and became security for the repayment of theremainder of the 1, 200, 000 livres, which they wanted to borrow, and forthe repayment of which he fixed no particular time. ]

To Marie Antoinette we are indebted for a splendid quarto edition of theworks of Metastasio; to Monsieur, the King's brother, for a quarto Tasso, embellished with engravings after Cochin; and to the Comte d'Artois for asmall collection of select works, which is considered one of the chefd'oeuvres of the press of the celebrated Didot. 

In 1775, on the death of the Marechal du Muy, the ascendency obtained bythe sect of innovators occasioned M. De Saint-Germain to be recalled toCourt and made Minister of War. His first care was the destruction of theKing's military household establishment, an imposing and effectual rampartround the sovereign power. 

When Chancellor Maupeou obtained from Louis XV. The destruction of theParliament and the exile of all the ancient magistrates, the Mousquetaireswere charged with the execution of the commission for this purpose; and atthe stroke of midnight, the presidents and members were all arrested, eachby two Mousquetaires. In the spring of 1775 a popular insurrection hadtaken place in consequence of the high price of bread. M. Turgot's newregulation, which permitted unlimited trade in corn, was either its causeor the pretext for it; and the King's household troops again rendered thegreatest services to public tranquillity. 

I have never be enable to discover the true cause of the support given toM. De Saint-Germain's policy by the Queen, unless in the marked favourshown to the captains and officers of the Body Guards, who by thisreduction became the only soldiers of their rank entrusted with the safetyof the sovereign; or else in the Queen's strong prejudice against the Ducd'Aiguillon, then commander of the light-horse. M. De Saint-Germain, however, retained fifty gens d'armes and fifty light-horse to form a royalescort on state occasions; but in 1787 the King reduced both thesemilitary bodies. The Queen then said with satisfaction that at last sheshould see no more red coats in the gallery of Versailles. 

From 1775 to 1781 were the gayest years of the Queen's life. In thelittle journeys to Choisy, performances frequently took place at thetheatre twice in one day: grand opera and French or Italian comedy at theusual hour; and at eleven at night they returned to the theatre forparodies in which the best actors of the Opera presented themselves inwhimsical parts and costumes. The celebrated dancer Guimard always tookthe leading characters in the latter performance; she danced better thanshe acted; her extreme leanness, and her weak, hoarse voice added to theburlesque in the parodied characters of Ernelinde and Iphigenie. 

The most magnificent fete ever given to the Queen was one prepared for herby Monsieur, the King's brother, at Brunoy. That Prince did me the honourto admit me, and I followed her Majesty into the gardens, where she foundin the first copse knights in full armour asleep at the foot of trees, onwhich hung their spears and shields. The absence of the beauties who hadincited the nephews of Charlemagne and the gallants of that period tolofty deeds was supposed to occasion this lethargic slumber. But when theQueen appeared at the entrance of the copse they were on foot in aninstant, and melodious voices announced their eagerness to display theirvalour. They then hastened into a vast arena, magnificently decorated inthe exact style of the ancient tournaments. Fifty dancers dressed as pagespresented to the knights twenty-five superb black horses, and twenty-fiveof a dazzling whiteness, all most richly caparisoned. The party led byAugustus Vestris wore the Queen's colours. Picq, balletmaster at theRussian Court, commanded the opposing band. There was running at thenegro's head, tilting, and, lastly, combats 'a outrance', perfectly wellimitated. Although the spectators were aware that the Queen's colourscould not but be victorious, they did not the less enjoy the apparentuncertainty. 

Nearly all the agreeable women of Paris were ranged upon the steps whichsurrounded the area of the tourney. The Queen, surrounded by the royalfamily and the whole Court, was placed beneath an elevated canopy. Aplay, followed by a ballet-pantomime and a ball, terminated the fete. Fireworks and illuminations were not spared. Finally, from a prodigiouslyhigh scaffold, placed on a rising ground, the words 'Vive Louis! ViveMarie Antoinette!' were shown in the air in the midst of a very dark butcalm night. 

Pleasure was the sole pursuit of every one of this young family, with theexception of the King. Their love of it was perpetually encouraged by acrowd of those officious people who, by anticipating the desires and eventhe passions of princes, find means of showing their zeal, and hope togain or maintain favour for themselves. 

Who would have dared to check the amusements of a queen, young, lively, and handsome? A mother or a husband alone would have had the right to doit; and the King threw no impediment in the way of Marie Antoinette'sinclinations. His long indifference had been followed by admiration andlove. He was a slave to all the wishes of the Queen, who, delighted withthe happy change in the heart and habits of the King, did not sufficientlyconceal the ascendency she was gaining over him. 

The King went to bed every night at eleven precisely; he was verymethodical, and nothing was allowed to interfere with his rules. Thenoise which the Queen unavoidably made when she returned very late fromthe evenings which she spent with the Princesse de Gugmenee or the Duc deDuras, at last annoyed the King, and it was amicably agreed that the Queenshould apprise him when she intended to sit up late. He then began tosleep in his own apartment, which had never before happened from the timeof their marriage. 

During the winter the Queen attended the Opera balls with a single lady ofthe palace, and always found there Monsieur and the Comte d'Artois. Herpeople concealed their liveries under gray cloth greatcoats. She neverthought she was recognized, while all the time she was known to the wholeassembly, from the first moment she entered the theatre; they pretended, however, not to recognise her, and some masquerade manoeuvre was alwaysadopted to give her the pleasure of fancying herself incognito. 

Louis XVI. Determined once to accompany the Queen to a masked ball; it wasagreed that the King should hold not only the grand but the petit coucher, as if actually going to bed. The Queen went to his apartment through theinner corridors of the palace, followed by one of her women with a blackdomino; she assisted him to put it on, and they went alone to the chapelcourt, where a carriage waited for them, with the captain of the Guard ofthe quarter, and a lady of the palace. The King was but little amused, spoke only to two or three persons, who knew him immediately, and foundnothing to admire at the masquerade but Punches and Harlequins, whichserved as a joke against him for the royal family, who often amusedthemselves with laughing at him about it. 

An event, simple in itself, brought dire suspicion upon the Queen. Shewas going out one evening with the Duchesse de Lupnes, lady of the palace, when her carriage broke down at the entrance into Paris; she was obligedto alight; the Duchess led her into a shop, while a footman called a'fiacre'. As they were masked, if they had but known how to keep silence, the event would never have been known; but to ride in a fiacre is sounusual an adventure for a queen that she had hardly entered theOpera-house when she could not help saying to some persons whom she metthere: "That I should be in a fiacre! Is it not droll?"

From that moment all Paris was informed of the adventure of the fiacre. Itwas said that everything connected with it was mysterious; that the Queenhad kept an assignation in a private house with the Duc de Coigny. He wasindeed very well received at Court, but equally so by the King and Queen. These accusations of gallantry once set afloat, there were no longer anybounds to the calumnies circulated at Paris. If, during the chase or atcards, the Queen spoke to Lord Edward Dillon, De Lambertye, or others, they were so many favoured lovers. The people of Paris did not know thatnone of those young persons were admitted into the Queen's private circleof friends; the Queen went about Paris in disguise, and had made use of afiacre; and a single instance of levity gives room for the suspicion ofothers. 

Conscious of innocence, and well knowing that all about her must dojustice to her private life, the Queen spoke of these reports withcontempt, contenting herself with the supposition that some folly in theyoung men mentioned had given rise to them. She therefore left offspeaking to them or even looking at them. Their vanity took alarm atthis, and revenge induced them either to say, or to leave others to think, that they were unfortunate enough to please no longer. Other youngcoxcombs, placing themselves near the private box which the Queen occupiedincognito when she attended the public theatre at Versailles, had thepresumption to imagine that they were noticed by her; and I have knownsuch notions entertained merely on account of the Queen's requesting oneof those gentlemen to inquire behind the scenes whether it would be longbefore the commencement of the second piece. 

The list of persons received into the Queen's closet which I gave in thepreceding chapter was placed in the hands of the ushers of the chamber bythe Princesse de Lamballe; and the persons there enumerated could presentthemselves to enjoy the distinction only on those days when the Queenchose to be with her intimates in a private manner; and this was only whenshe was slightly indisposed. People of the first rank at Court sometimesrequested special audiences of her; the Queen then received them in a roomwithin that called the closet of the women on duty, and these womenannounced them in her Majesty's apartment. 

The Duc de Lauzun had a good deal of wit, and chivalrous manners. TheQueen was accustomed to see him at the King's suppers, and at the house ofthe Princesse de Guemenee, and always showed him attention. One day hemade his appearance at Madame de Guemenee's in uniform, and with the mostmagnificent plume of white heron's feathers that it was possible tobehold. The Queen admired the plume, and he offered it to her through thePrincesse de Guemenee. As he had worn it the Queen had not imagined thathe could think of giving it to her; much embarrassed with the presentwhich she had, as it were, drawn upon herself, she did not like to refuseit, nor did she know whether she ought to make one in return; afraid, ifshe did give anything, of giving either too much or too little, shecontented herself with once letting M. De Lauzun see her adorned with theplume. In his secret "Memoirs" the Duke attaches an importance to hispresent, which proves him utterly unworthy of an honour accorded only tohis name and rank. 

A short time afterwards he solicited an audience; the Queen granted it, asshe would have done to any other courtier of equal rank. I was in theroom adjoining that in which he was received; a few minutes after hisarrival the Queen reopened the door, and said aloud, and in an angry toneof voice, "Go, monsieur. " M. De Lauzun bowed low, and withdrew. TheQueen was much agitated. She said to me: "That man shall never again comewithin my doors. " A few years before the Revolution of 1789 the Marechalde Biron died. The Duc de Lauzun, heir to his name, aspired to theimportant post of colonel of the regiment of French guards. The Queen, however, procured it for the Duc du Chaatelet. The Duc de Biron espousedthe cause of the Duc d'Orleans, and became one of the most violent enemiesof Marie Antoinette. 

It is with reluctance that I enter minutely on a defence of the Queenagainst two infamous accusations with which libellers have dared to swelltheir envenomed volumes. I mean the unworthy suspicions of too strong anattachment for the Comte d'Artois, and of the motives for the tenderfriendship which subsisted between the Queen, the Princesse de Lamballe, and the Duchesse de Polignac. I do not believe that the Comte d'Artoiswas, during his own youth and that of the Queen, so much smitten as hasbeen said with the loveliness of his sister-in-law; I can affirm that Ialways saw that Prince maintain the most respectful demeanour towards theQueen; that she always spoke of his good-nature and cheerfulness with thatfreedom which attends only the purest sentiments; and that none of thoseabout the Queen ever saw in the affection she manifested towards the Comted'Artois more than that of a kind and tender sister for her youngestbrother. As to the intimate connection between Marie Antoinette and theladies I have named, it never had, nor could have, any other motive thanthe very innocent wish to secure herself two friends in the midst of anumerous Court; and notwithstanding this intimacy, that tone of respectobserved by persons of the most exalted rank towards majesty never ceasedto be maintained. 

The Queen, much occupied with the society of Madame de Polignac, and anunbroken series of amusements, found less time for the Abbe de Vermond; hetherefore resolved to retire from Court. The world did him the honour tobelieve that he had hazarded remonstrances upon his august pupil'sfrivolous employment of her time, and that he considered himself, both asan ecclesiastic and as instructor, now out of place at Court. But theworld was deceived his dissatisfaction arose purely from the favour shownto the Comtesse Jules. After a fortnight's absence we saw him atVersailles again, resuming his usual functions. 

The Queen could express herself with winning graciousness to persons whomerited her praise. When M. Loustonneau was appointed to the reversion ofthe post of first surgeon to the King, he came to make hisacknowledgments. He was much beloved by the poor, to whom he had chieflydevoted his talents, spending nearly thirty thousand francs a year onindigent sufferers. The Queen replied to his thanks by saying: "You aresatisfied, Monsieur; but I am far from being so with the inhabitants ofVersailles. On the news of your appointment the town should have beenilluminated. "--"How so, Madame?" asked the astonished surgeon, who wasvery modest. "Why, " replied the Queen, "if the poor whom you havesuccoured for the past twenty years had each placed a single candle intheir windows it would have been the most beautiful illumination everwitnessed. "

The Queen did not limit her kindness to friendly words. There wasfrequently seen in the apartments of Versailles a veteran captain of thegrenadiers of France, called the Chevalier d'Orville, who for four yearshad been soliciting from the Minister of War the post of major, or ofKing's lieutenant. He was known to be very poor; but he supported his lotwithout complaining of this vexatious delay in rewarding his honourableservices. He regularly attended the Marechal de Segur, at the hourappointed for receiving the numerous solicitations in his department. Oneday the Marshal said to him: "You are still at Versailles, M. D'Orville?"--"Monsieur, " he replied, "you may observe that by this boardof the flooring where I regularly place myself; it is already worn downseveral lines by the weight of my body. " The Queen frequently stood atthe window of her bedchamber to observe with her glass the people walkingin the park. Sometimes she inquired the names of those who were unknownto her. One day she saw the Chevalier d'Orville passing, and asked me thename of that knight of Saint Louis, whom she had seen everywhere for along time past. I knew who he was, and related his history. "That mustbe put an end to, " said the Queen, with some vivacity. "Such an exampleof indifference is calculated to discourage our soldiers. " Next day, incrossing the gallery to go to mass, the Queen perceived the Chevalierd'Orville; she went directly towards him. The poor man fell back in therecess of a window, looking to the right and left to discover the personwhom the Queen was seeking, when she thus addressed him: "M. D'Orville, you have been several years at Versailles, soliciting a majority or aKing's lieutenancy. You must have very powerless patrons. "--"I have none, Madame, " replied the Chevalier, in great confusion. "Well! I will takeyou under my protection. To-morrow at the same hour be here with apetition, and a memorial of your services. " A fortnight after, M. D'Orville was appointed King's lieutenant, either at La Rochelle or atRochefort. 

[Louis XVI. Vied with his Queen in benevolent actions of this kind. An oldofficer had in vain solicited a pension during the administration of theDuc de Choiseul. He returned to the charge in the times of the Marquis deMontesnard and the Duc d'Aiguillon. He urged his claims, to Comte du Muy, who made a note of them. Tired of so many fruitless efforts, he at lastappeared at the King's supper, and, having placed himself so as to be seenand heard, cried out at a moment when silence prevailed, "Sire. " Thepeople near him said, "What are you about? This is not the way to speakto the King. "--"I fear nothing, " said he, and raising his voice, repeated, "Sire. " The King, much surprised, looked at him and said, "What do youwant, monsieur. "--"Sire, " answered he, "I am seventy years of age; I haveserved your Majesty more than fifty years, and I am dying forwant. "--"Have you a memorial?" replied the King. "Yes, Sire, Ihave. "--"Give it to me;" and his Majesty took it without saying anythingmore. Next morning he was sent for by the, King, who said, "Monsieur, Igrant you an annuity of 1, 500 livres out of my privy purse, and you may goand receive the first year's payment, which is now due. " ("SecretCorrespondence of the Court: Reign of Louis XVI. ") The King preferred tospend money in charity rather than in luxury or magnificence. Once duringhis absence, M. D'Augivillers caused an unused room in the King'sapartment to be repaired at a cost of 30, 000 francs. On his return theKing made Versailles resound with complaints against M. D'Augivillers:"With that sum I could have made thirty families happy, " he said. ]

CHAPTER IX. 

From the time of Louis XVI. 's accession to the throne, the Queen had beenexpecting a visit from her brother, the Emperor Joseph II. That Princewas the constant theme of her discourse. She boasted of his intelligence, his love of occupation, his military knowledge, and the perfect simplicityof his manners. Those about her Majesty ardently wished to see atVersailles a prince so worthy of his rank. At length the coming of JosephII. , under the title of Count Falkenstein, was announced, and the very dayon which he would be at Versailles was mentioned. The first embracesbetween the Queen and her august brother took place in the presence of allthe Queen's household. The sight of their emotion was extremelyaffecting. 

The Emperor was at first generally admired in France; learned men, well-informed officers, and celebrated artists appreciated the extent ofhis information. He made less impression at Court, and very little in theprivate circle of the King and Queen. His eccentric manners, hisfrankness, often degenerating into rudeness, and his evidently affectedsimplicity, --all these characteristics caused him to be looked upon as aprince rather singular than admirable. The Queen spoke to him about theapartment she had prepared for him in the Chateau; the Emperor answeredthat he would not accept it, and that while travelling he always lodged ata cabaret (that was his very expression); the Queen insisted, and assuredhim that he should be at perfect liberty, and placed out of the reach ofnoise. He replied that he knew the Chateau of Versailles was very large, and that so many scoundrels lived there that he could well find a place;but that his valet de chambre had made up his camp-bed in a lodging-house, and there he would stay. 

He dined with the King and Queen, and supped with the whole family. Heappeared to take an interest in the young Princesse Elisabeth, then justpast childhood, and blooming in all the freshness of that age. Anintended marriage between him and this young sister of the King wasreported at the time, but I believe it had no foundation in truth. 

The table was still served by women only, when the Queen dined in privatewith the King, the royal family, or crowned heads. 

[The custom was, even supposing dinner to have commenced, if a princess ofthe blood arrived, and she was asked to sit down at the Queen's table, thecomptrollers and gentlemen-in-waiting came immediately to attend, and theQueen's women withdrew. These had succeeded the maids of honour inseveral parts of their service, and had preserved some of theirprivileges. One day the Duchesse d'Orleans arrived at Fontainebleau, atthe Queen's dinner-hour. The Queen invited her to the table, and herselfmotioned to her women to leave the room, and let the men take theirplaces. Her Majesty said she was resolved to continue a privilege whichkept places of that description most honourable, and render them suitablefor ladies of nobility without fortune. Madame de Misery, Baronne deBiache, the Queen's first lady of the chamber, to whom I was madereversioner, was a daughter of M. Le Comte de Chemant, and her grandmotherwas a Montmorency. M. Le Prince de Tingry, in the presence of the Queen, used to call her cousin. The ancient household of the Kings of France hadprerogatives acknowledged in the state. Many of the offices were tenableonly by those of noble blood, and were sold at from 40, 000 to 300, 000franca. A collection of edicts of the Kings in favour of the prerogativesand right of precedence of the persons holding office in the royalhousehold is still in existence. ]

I was present at the Queen's dinner almost every day. The Emperor wouldtalk much and fluently; he expressed himself in French with facility, andthe singularity, of his expressions added a zest to his conversation. Ihave often heard him say that he liked spectaculous objects, when he meantto express such things as formed a show, or a scene worthy of interest. He disguised none of his prejudices against the etiquette and customs ofthe Court of France; and even in the presence of the King made them thesubject of his sarcasms. The King smiled, but never made any answer; theQueen appeared pained. The Emperor frequently terminated his observationsupon the objects in Paris which he had admired by reproaching the King forsuffering himself to remain in ignorance of them. He could not conceivehow such a wealth of pictures should remain shut up in the dust of immensestores; and told him one day that but for the practice of placing some ofthem in the apartments of Versailles he would not know even the principalchef d'oeuvres that he possessed. 

[The Emperor loudly censured the existing practice of allowing shopkeepersto erect shops near the outward walls of all the palaces, and even toestablish something like a fair in the galleries of Versailles andFontainebleau, and even upon the landings of the staircases. ]

He also reproached him for not having visited the Hotel des Invalides northe Ecole Militaire; and even went so far as to tell him before us that heought not only to know what Paris contained, but to travel in France, andreside a few days in each of his large towns. 

At last the Queen was really hurt at the Emperor's remarks, and gave him afew lectures upon the freedom with which he allowed himself to lectureothers. One day she was busied in signing warrants and orders for paymentfor her household, and was conversing with M. Augeard, her secretary forsuch matters, who presented the papers one after another to be signed, andreplaced them in his portfolio. While this was going forward, the Emperorwalked about the room; all at once he stood still, to reproach the Queenrather severely for signing all those papers without reading them, or, atleast, without running her eye over them; and he spoke most judiciously toher upon the danger of signing her name inconsiderately. The Queenanswered that very wise principles might be very ill applied; that hersecretary, who deserved her implicit confidence, was at that moment layingbefore her nothing but orders for payment of the quarter's expenses of herhousehold, registered in the Chamber of Accounts; and that she ran no riskof incautiously giving her signature. 

The Queen's toilet was likewise a never-failing subject for animadversionwith the Emperor. He blamed her for having introduced too many newfashions; and teased her about her use of rouge. One day, while she waslaying on more of it than usual, before going to the play, he pointed outa lady who was in the room, and who was, in truth, highly painted. "Alittle more under the eyes, " said the Emperor to the Queen; "lay on therouge like a fury, as that lady does. " The Queen entreated her brother torefrain from his jokes, or at all events to address them, when they wereso outspoken, to her alone. 

The Queen had made an appointment to meet her brother at the Italiantheatre; she changed her mind, and went to the French theatre, sending apage to the Italian theatre to request the Emperor to come to her there. He left his box, lighted by the comedian Clairval, and attended by M. Dela Ferte, comptroller of the Queen's privy purse, who was much hurt athearing his Imperial Majesty, after kindly expressing his regret at notbeing present during the Italian performance, say to Clairval, "Your youngQueen is very giddy; but, luckily, you Frenchmen have no great objectionto that. "

I was with my father-in-law in one of the Queen's apartments when theEmperor came to wait for her there, and, knowing that M. Campan waslibrarian, he conversed with him about such books as would of course befound in the Queen's library. After talking of our most celebratedauthors, he casually said, "There are doubtless no works on finance or onadministration here?"

These words were followed by his opinion on all that had been written onthose topics, and the different systems of our two famous ministers, Sullyand Colbert; on errors which were daily committed in France, in pointsessential to the prosperity of the Empire; and on the reform he himselfwould make at Vienna. Holding M. Campan by the button, he spent more thanan hour, talking vehemently, and without the slightest reserve, about theFrench Government. My father-in-law and myself maintained profoundsilence, as much from astonishment as from respect; and when we were alonewe agreed not to speak of this interview. 

The Emperor was fond of describing the Italian Courts that he had visited. The jealous quarrels between the King and Queen of Naples amused himhighly; he described to the life the manner and speech of that sovereign, and the simplicity with which he used to go and solicit the firstchamberlain to obtain permission to return to the nuptial bed, when theangry Queen had banished him from it. The time which he was made to waitfor this reconciliation was calculated between the Queen and herchamberlain, and always proportioned to the gravity of the offence. Healso related several very amusing stories relative to the Court of Parma, of which he spoke with no little contempt. If what this Prince said ofthose Courts, and even of Vienna, had been written down, the whole wouldhave formed an interesting collection. The Emperor told the King that theGrand Duke of Tuscany and the King of Naples being together, the formersaid a great deal about the changes he had effected in his State. TheGrand Duke had issued a mass of new edicts, in order to carry the preceptsof the economists into execution, and trusted that in so doing he waslabouring for the welfare of his people. The King of Naples suffered himto go on speaking for a long time, and then casually asked how manyNeapolitan families there were in Tuscany. The Duke soon reckoned themup, as they were but few. "Well, brother, " replied the King of Naples, "Ido not understand the indifference of your people towards your greatreforms; for I have four times the number of Tuscan families settled in myStates that you have of Neapolitan families in yours. "

The Queen being at the Opera with the Emperor, the latter did not wish toshow himself; but she took him by the hand, and gently drew him to thefront of the box. This kind of presentation to the public was most warmlyreceived. The performance was "Iphigenia in Aulis, " and for the secondtime the chorus, "Chantons, celebrons notre Reine!" was called for withuniversal plaudits. 

A fete of a novel description was given at Petit Trianon. The art withwhich the English garden was not illuminated, but lighted, produced acharming effect. Earthen lamps, concealed by boards painted green, threwlight upon the beds of shrubs and flowers, and brought out their variedtints. Several hundred burning fagots in the moat behind the Temple ofLove made a blaze of light, which rendered that spot the most brilliant inthe garden. After all, this evening's entertainment had nothingremarkable about it but the good taste of the artists, yet it was muchtalked of. The situation did not allow the admission of a great part ofthe Court; those who were uninvited were dissatisfied; and the people, whonever forgive any fetes but those they share in, so exaggerated the costof this little fete as to make it appear that the fagots burnt in the moathad required the destruction of a whole forest. The Queen being informedof these reports, was determined to know exactly how much wood had beenconsumed; and she found that fifteen hundred fagots had sufficed to keepup the fire until four o'clock in the morning. 

After staying a few months the Emperor left France, promising his sisterto come and see her again. All the officers of the Queen's chamber hadmany opportunities of serving him during his stay, and expected that hewould make them presents before his departure. Their oath of officepositively forbade them to receive a gift from any foreign prince; theyhad therefore agreed to refuse the Emperor's presents at first, but to askthe time necessary for obtaining permission to accept them. The Emperor, probably informed of this custom, relieved the good people from theirdifficulty by setting off without making a single present. 

About the latter end of 1777 the Queen, being alone in her closet, sentfor my father-in-law and myself, and, giving us her hand to kiss; told usthat, looking upon us both as persons deeply interested in her happiness, she wished to receive our congratulations, --that at length she was theQueen of France, and that she hoped soon to have children; that till nowshe had concealed her grief, but that she had shed many tears in secret. 

Dating from this happy but long-delayed moment, the King's attachment tothe Queen assumed every characteristic of love. The good Lassone, firstphysician to the King and Queen, frequently spoke to me of the uneasinessthat the King's indifference, the cause of which he had been so long inovercoming, had given him, and appeared to me at that time to entertain noanxiety except of a very different description. 

In the winter of 1778 the King's permission for the return of Voltaire;after an absence of twenty-seven years, was obtained. A few strictpersons considered this concession on the part of the Court veryinjudicious. The Emperor, on leaving France, passed by the Chateau ofFerney without stopping there. He had advised the Queen not to sufferVoltaire to be presented to her. A lady belonging to the Court learnedthe Emperor's opinion on that point, and reproached him with his want ofenthusiasm towards the greatest genius of the age. He replied that forthe good of the people he should always endeavour to profit by theknowledge of the philosophers; but that his own business of sovereignwould always prevent his ranking himself amongst that sect. The clergyalso took steps to hinder Voltaire's appearance at Court. Paris, however, carried to the highest pitch the honours and enthusiasm shown to the greatpoet. 

It was very unwise to let Paris pronounce with such transport an opinionso opposite to that of the Court. This was pointed out to the Queen, andshe was told that, without conferring on Voltaire the honour of apresentation, she might see him in the State apartments. She was notaverse to following this advice, and appeared embarrassed solely aboutwhat she should say to him. She was recommended to talk about nothing butthe "Henriade, " "Merope, " and "Zaira. " The Queen replied that she wouldstill consult a few other persons in whom she had great confidence. Thenext day she announced that it was irrevocably decided Voltaire should notsee any member of the royal family, --his writings being too antagonisticto religion and morals. "It is, however, strange, " said the Queen, "thatwhile we refuse to admit Voltaire into our presence as the leader ofphilosophical writers, the Marechale de Mouchy should have presented to mesome years ago Madame Geoffrin, who owed her celebrity to the title offoster-mother of the philosophers. "

On the occasion of the duel of the Comte d'Artois with the Prince deBourbon the Queen determined privately to see the Baron de Besenval, whowas to be one of the witnesses, in order to communicate the King'sintentions. I have read with infinite pain the manner in which thatsimple fact is perverted in the first volume of M. De Besenval's"Memoirs. " He is right in saying that M. Campan led him through the uppercorridors of the Chateau, and introduced him into an apartment unknown tohim; but the air of romance given to the interview is equally culpable andridiculous. M. De Besenval says that he found himself, without knowinghow he came there, in an apartment unadorned, but very convenientlyfurnished, of the existence of which he was till then utterly ignorant. He was astonished, he adds, not that the Queen should have so manyfacilities, but that she should have ventured to procure them. Tenprinted sheets of the woman Lamotte's libels contain nothing so injuriousto the character of Marie Antoinette as these lines, written by a man whomshe honoured by undeserved kindness. He could not have had anyopportunity of knowing the existence of the apartments, which consisted ofa very small antechamber, a bedchamber, and a closet. Ever since theQueen had occupied her own apartment, these had been appropriated to herMajesty's lady of honour in cases of illness, and were actually so usedwhen the Queen was confined. It was so important that it should not beknown the Queen had spoken to the Baron before the duel that she haddetermined to go through her inner room into this little apartment, towhich M. Campan was to conduct him. When men write of recent times theyshould be scrupulously exact, and not indulge in exaggerations orinventions. 

The Baron de Besenval appears mightily surprised at the Queen's suddencoolness, and refers it to the fickleness of her disposition. I canexplain the reason for the change by repeating what her Majesty said to meat the time; and I will not alter one of her expressions. Speaking of thestrange presumption of men, and the reserve with which women ought alwaysto treat them, the Queen added that age did not deprive them of the hopeof pleasing, if they retained any agreeable qualities; that she hadtreated the Baron de Besenval as a brave Swiss, agreeable, polished, andwitty, whose gray hairs had induced her to look upon him as a man whom shemight see without harm; but that she had been much deceived. Her Majesty, after having enjoined me to the strictest secrecy, told me that, findingherself alone with the Baron, he began to address her with so muchgallantry that she was thrown into the utmost astonishment, and that hewas mad enough to fall upon his knees, and make her a declaration in form. The Queen added that she said to him: "Rise, monsieur; the King shall beignorant of an offence which would disgrace you for ever;" that the Barongrew pale and stammered apologies; that she left her closet without sayinganother word, and that since that time she hardly ever spoke to him. "Itis delightful to have friends, " said the Queen; "but in a situation likemine it is sometimes difficult for the friends of our friends to suit us. "

In the beginning of the year 1778 Mademoiselle d'Eon obtained permissionto return to France, on condition that she should appear there in femaledress. The Comte de Vergennes entreated my father, M. Genet, chief clerkof Foreign Affairs, who had long known the Chevalier d'Eon, to receivethat strange personage at his house, to guide and restrain, if possible, her ardent disposition. The Queen, on learning her arrival at Versailles, sent a footman to desire my father to bring her into her presence; myfather thought it his duty first to inform the Minister of her Majesty'swish. The Comte de Vergennes expressed himself pleased with my father'sprudence, and desired that he would accompany him to the Queen. TheMinister had a few minutes' audience; her Majesty came out of her closetwith him, and condescended to express to my father the regret she felt athaving troubled him to no purpose; and added, smiling, that a few wordsfrom M. De Vergennes had for ever cured her of her curiosity. Thediscovery in London of the true sex of this pretended woman makes itprobable that the few words uttered by the Minister contained a solutionof the enigma. 

The Chevalier d'Eon had been useful in Russia as a spy of Louis XV. Whilevery young he had found means to introduce himself at the Court of theEmpress Elizabeth, and served that sovereign in the capacity of reader. Resuming afterwards his military dress, he served with honour and waswounded. Appointed chief secretary of legation, and afterwards ministerplenipotentiary at London, he unpardonably insulted Comte de Guerchy, theambassador. The official order for the Chevalier's return to France wasactually delivered to the King's Council; but Louis XV. Delayed thedeparture of the courier who was to be its bearer, and sent off anothercourier privately, who gave the Chevalier d'Eon a letter in his ownwriting, in which he said, "I know that you have served me as effectuallyin the dress of a woman as in that which you now wear. Resume itinstantly; withdraw into the city; I warn you that the King yesterdaysigned an order for your return to France; you are not safe in your hotel, and you would here find too powerful enemies. " I heard the Chevalierd'Eon repeat the contents of this letter, in which Louis XV. Thusseparated himself from the King of France, several times at my father's. The Chevalier, or rather the Chevalaere d'Eon had preserved all the King'sletters. Messieurs de Maurepas and de Vergennes wished to get them out ofhis hands, as they were afraid he would print them. This eccentric beinghad long solicited permission to return to France; but it was necessary tofind a way of sparing the family he had offended the insult they would seein his return; he was therefore made to resume the costume of that sex towhich in France everything is pardoned. The desire to see his native landonce more determined him to submit to the condition, but he revengedhimself by combining the long train of his gown and the three deep ruffleson his sleeves with the attitude and conversation of a grenadier, whichmade him very disagreeable company. 

[The account given by Madame Campan of the Chevalier d'Eon is now known tobe incorrect in many particulars. Enough details for most readers will befound in the Duc de Broglie's "Secret of the King, " vol. Ii. , chaps. Vi. And g. , and at p. 89, vol. Ii. Of that work, where the Duke refers tothe letter of most dubious authenticity spoken of by Madame Campan. Thefollowing details will be sufficient for these memoirs: The ChevalierCharles d'Eon de Beaumont (who was born in 1728) was an ex-captain ofdragoons, employed in both the open and secret diplomacy of Louis XV. When at the embassy in London he quarrelled with the ambassador, hissuperior, the Comte de Guerchy (Marquis do Nangis), and used hispossession of papers concerning the secret diplomacy to shield himself. It was when hiding in London, in 1765, on account of this business, thathe seems first to have assumed woman's dress, which he retained apparentlychiefly from love of notoriety. In 1775 a formal agreement with theFrench Court, made by the instrumentality of Beaumarchais, of all peoplein the world, permitted him to return to France, retaining the dress of awoman. He went back to France, but again came to England, and died there, at his residence in Millman Street, near the Foundling Hospital, May 22, 1710. He had been a brave and distinguished officer, but his form and acertain coldness of temperament always remarked in him assisted him in hisassumption of another sex. There appears to be no truth in the story ofhis proceedings at the Russian Court, and his appearing in female attirewas a surprise to those who must have known of any earlier affair of thesort. ]

At last, the event so long desired by the Queen, and by all those whowished her well, took place; her Majesty became enceinte. The King was inecstasies. Never was there a more united or happier couple. Thedisposition of Louis XVI. Entirely altered, and became prepossessing andconciliatory; and the Queen was amply compensated for the uneasiness whichthe King's indifference during the early part of their union had causedher. 

The summer of 1778 was extremely hot. July and August passed, but the airwas not cooled by a single storm. The Queen spent whole days in closerooms, and could not sleep until she had breathed the fresh night air, walking with the Princesses and her brothers upon the terrace under herapartments. These promenades at first gave rise to no remark; but itoccurred to some of the party to enjoy the music of wind instrumentsduring these fine summer nights. The musicians belonging to the chapelwere ordered to perform pieces suited to instruments of that description, upon steps constructed in the middle of the garden. The Queen, seated onone of the terrace benches, enjoyed the effect of this music, surroundedby all the royal family with the exception of the King, who joined thembut, twice, disliking to change his hour of going to bed. 

Nothing could be more innocent than these parties; yet Paris, France, nay, all Europe, were soon canvassing them in a manner most disadvantageous tothe reputation of Marie Antoinette. It is true that all the inhabitantsof Versailles enjoyed these serenades, and that there was a crowd near thespot from eleven at night until two or three in the morning. The windowsof the ground floor occupied by Monsieur and Madame--[The wife ofMonsieur, the Comte de Provence. ]--were kept open, and the terrace wasperfectly well lighted by the numerous wax candles burning in the twoapartments. Lamps were likewise placed in the garden, and the lights ofthe orchestra illuminated the rest of the place. 

I do not know whether a few incautious women might not have venturedfarther, and wandered to the bottom of the park; it may have been so; butthe Queen, Madame, and the Comtesse d'Artois were always arm-in-arm, andnever left the terrace. The Princesses were not remarkable when seated onthe benches, being dressed in cambric muslin gowns, with large straw hatsand muslin veils, a costume universally adopted by women at that time; butwhen standing up their different figures always distinguished them; andthe persons present stood on one side to let them pass. It is true thatwhen they seated themselves upon the benches private individuals wouldsometimes, to their great amusement, sit down by their side. 

A young clerk in the War Department, either not knowing or pretending notto know the Queen, spoke to her of the beauty of the night, and thedelightful effect of the music. The Queen, fancying she was notrecognised, amused herself by keeping up the incognito, and they talked ofseveral private families of Versailles, consisting of persons belonging tothe King's household or her own. After a few minutes the Queen andPrincesses rose to walk, and on leaving the bench curtsied to the clerk. The young man knowing, or having subsequently discovered, that he had beenconversing with the Queen, boasted of it in his office. He was merely, desired to hold his tongue; and so little attention did he excite that theRevolution found him still only a clerk. 

Another evening one of Monsieur's body-guard seated himself near thePrincesses, and, knowing them, left the place where he was sitting, andplaced himself before the Queen, to tell her that he was very fortunate inbeing able to seize an opportunity of imploring the kindness of hissovereign; that he was "soliciting at Court"--at the word soliciting theQueen and Princesses rose hastily and withdrew into Madame'sapartment. --[Soulavie has most criminally perverted these twofacts. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]--I was at the Queen's residence that day. Shetalked of this little occurrence all the time of her 'coucher'; though sheonly complained that one of Monsieur's guards should have had theeffrontery to speak to her. Her Majesty added that he ought to haverespected her incognito; and that that was not the place where he shouldhave ventured to make a request. Madame had recognised him, and talked ofmaking a complaint to his captain; the Queen opposed it, attributing hiserror to his ignorance and provincial origin. 

The most scandalous libels were based on these two insignificantoccurrences, which I have related with scrupulous exactness. Nothingcould be more false than those calumnies. It must be confessed, however, that such meetings were liable to ill consequences. I ventured to say asmuch to the Queen, and informed her that one evening, when her Majestybeckoned to me to go and speak to her, I thought I recognised on the benchon which she was sitting two women deeply veiled, and keeping profoundsilence; that those women were the Comtesse du Barry and hersister-in-law; and that my suspicions were confirmed, when, at a few pacesfrom the seat, and nearer to her Majesty, I met a tall footman belongingto Madame du Barry, whom I had seen in her service all the time sheresided at Court. 

My advice was disregarded. Misled by the pleasure she found in thesepromenades, and secure in the consciousness of blameless conduct, theQueen would not see the lamentable results which must necessarily follow. This was very unfortunate; for besides the mortifications they broughtupon her, it is highly probable that they prompted the vile plot whichgave rise to the Cardinal de Rohan's fatal error. 

Having enjoyed these evening promenades about a month, the Queen ordered aprivate concert within the colonnade which contained the group of Plutoand Proserpine. Sentinels were placed at all the entrances, and orderedto admit within the colonnade only such persons as should produce ticketssigned by my father-in-law. A fine concert was performed there by themusicians of the chapel and the female musicians belonging to the. Queen'schamber. The Queen went with Mesdames de Polignac, de Chalon, andd'Andlau, and Messieurs de Polignac, de Coigny, de Besenval, and deVaudreuil; there were also a few equerries present. Her Majesty gave mepermission to attend the concert with some of my female relations. Therewas no music upon the terrace. The crowd of inquisitive people, whom thesentinels kept at a distance from the enclosure of the colonnade, wentaway highly discontented; the small number of persons admitted no doubtoccasioned jealousy, and gave rise to offensive comments which were caughtup by the public with avidity. I do not pretend to apologise for the kindof amusements with which the Queen indulged herself during this and thefollowing summer; the consequences were so lamentable that the error wasno doubt very great; but what I have said respecting the character ofthese promenades may be relied on as true. 

When the season for evening walks was at an end, odious couplets werecirculated in Paris; the 'Queen was treated in them in the most insultingmanner; her situation ranked among her enemies persons attached to theonly prince who for several years had appeared likely to give heirs to thecrown. People uttered the most inconsiderate language; and those improperconversations took place in societies wherein the imminent danger ofviolating to so criminal an extent both truth and the respect due tosovereigns ought to have been better understood. A few days before theQueen's confinement a whole volume of manuscript songs, concerning her andall the ladies about her remarkable for rank or station was, thrown downin the oiel-de-boeuf. --[A large room at Versailles lighted by a bull's-eyewindow, and used as a waiting-room. ]--This manuscript was immediately putinto the hands of the King, who was highly incensed at it, and said thathe had himself been at those promenades; that he had seen nothingconnected with them but what was perfectly harmless; that such songs woulddisturb the harmony of twenty families in the Court and city; that it wasa capital crime to have made any against the Queen herself; and that hewished the author of the infamous libels to be discovered and punished. Afortnight afterwards it was known publicly that the verses were by M. Champcenetz de Riquebourg, who was not even reprimanded. 

[The author of a great many songs, some of which are very well written. Lively and satirical by nature, he did not lose either his cheerfulness orhis carelessness before the revolutionary tribunal. After hearing his ownsentence read, he asked his judges if he might not be allowed to find asubstitute. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

I knew for a certainty that the King spoke to M. De Maurepas, before twoof his most confidential servants, respecting the risk which he saw theQueen ran from these night walks upon the terrace of Versailles, which thepublic ventured to censure thus openly, and that the old minister had thecruelty to advise that she should be suffered to go on; she possessedtalent; her friends were very ambitious, and longed to see her take a partin public affairs; and to let her acquire the reputation of levity woulddo no harm. M. De Vergennes was as hostile to the Queen's influence as M. De Maurepas. It may therefore be fairly presumed, since the PrimeMinister durst point out to his King an advantage to be gained by theQueen's discrediting herself, that he and M. De Vergennes employed allmeans within the reach of powerful ministers in order to ruin her in theopinion of the public. 

The Queen's accouchement approached; Te Deums were sung and prayersoffered up in all the cathedrals. On the 11th of December, 1778, theroyal family, the Princes of the blood, and the great officers of Statepassed the night in the rooms adjoining the Queen's bedchamber. Madame, the King's daughter, came into the world before mid-day on the 19th ofDecember. --[Marie Therese Charlotte (1778-1861), Madame Royale; married in1799 Louis, Duc d'Angouleme, eldest son of the Comte d'Artois. ]--Theetiquette of allowing all persons indiscriminately to enter at the momentof the delivery of a queen was observed with such exaggeration that whenthe accoucheur said aloud, "La Reine va s'accoucher, " the persons whopoured into the chamber were so numerous that the rush nearly destroyedthe Queen. During the night the King had taken the precaution to have theenormous tapestry screens which surrounded her Majesty's bed secured withcords; but for this they certainly would have been thrown down upon her. It was impossible to move about the chamber, which was filled with somotley a crowd that one might have fancied himself in some place of publicamusement. Two Savoyards got upon the furniture for a better sight of theQueen, who was placed opposite the fireplace. 

The noise and the sex of the infant, with which the Queen was madeacquainted by a signal previously agreed on, as it is said, with thePrincesse do Lamballe, or some error of the accoucheur, brought onsymptoms which threatened fatal consequences; the accoucheur exclaimed, "Give her air--warm water--she must be bled in the foot!" The windowswere stopped up; the King opened them with a strength which his affectionfor the Queen gave him at the moment. They were of great height, andpasted over with strips of paper all round. The basin of hot water notbeing brought quickly enough, the accoucheur desired the chief surgeon touse his lancet without waiting for it. He did so; the blood streamed outfreely, and the Queen opened her eyes. The Princesse de Lamballe wascarried through the crowd in a state of insensibility. The valets dechambre and pages dragged out by the collar such inconsiderate persons aswould not leave the room. This cruel custom was abolished afterwards. ThePrinces of the family, the Princes of the blood, the chancellor, and theministers are surely sufficient to attest the legitimacy of an hereditaryprince. The Queen was snatched from the very jaws of death; she was notconscious of having been bled, and on being replaced in bed asked why shehad a linen bandage upon her foot. 

The delight which succeeded the moment of fear was equally lively andsincere. We were all embracing each other, and shedding tears of joy. TheComte d'Esterhazy and the Prince de Poix, to whom I was the first toannounce that the Queen was restored to life, embraced me in the midst ofthe cabinet of nobles. We little imagined, in our happiness at her escapefrom death, for how much more terrible a fate our beloved Princess wasreserved. 

NOTE. The two following specimens of the Emperor Joseph's correspondenceforcibly demonstrate the vigour, shrewdness, and originality of his mind, and complete the portrait left of him by Madame Campan. 

Few sovereigns have given their reasons for refusing appointments with thefullness and point of the following letter:

To a Lady. 

MADAM. --I do not think that it is amongst the duties of a monarch to grantplaces to one of his subjects merely because he is a gentleman. That, however, is the inference from the request you have made to me. Your latehusband was, you say, a distinguished general, a gentleman of good family, and thence you conclude that my kindness to your family can do no lessthan give a company of foot to your second son, lately returned from histravels. 

Madam, a man may be the son of a general and yet have no talent forcommand. A man may be of a good family and yet possess no other meritthan that which he owes to chance, --the name of gentleman. 

I know your son, and I know what makes the soldier; and this twofoldknowledge convinces me that your son has not the disposition of a warrior, and that he is too full of his birth to leave the country a hope of hisever rendering it any important service. 

What you are to be pitied for, madam, is, that your son is not fit eitherfor an officer, a statesman or a priest; in a word, that he is nothingmore than a gentleman in the most extended acceptation of the word. 

You may be thankful to that destiny, which, in refusing talents to yourson, has taken care to put him in possession of great wealth, which willsufficiently compensate him for other deficiencies, and enable him at thesame time to dispense with any favour from me. 

I hope you will be impartial enough to see the reasons which prompt me torefuse your request. It may be disagreeable to you, but I consider itnecessary. Farewell, madam. --Your sincere well-wisher, JOSEPHLACHSENBURG, 4th August, 1787. 

The application of another anxious and somewhat covetous mother wasanswered with still more decision and irony:

To a Lady. 

MADAM. --You know my disposition; you are not ignorant that the society ofthe ladies is to me a mere recreation, and that I have never sacrificed myprinciples to the fair sex. I pay but little attention torecommendations, and I only take them into consideration when the personin whose behalf I may be solicited possesses real merit. 

Two of your sons are already loaded with favours. The eldest, who is notyet twenty, is chief of a squadron in my army, and the younger hasobtained a canonry at Cologne, from the Elector, my brother. What wouldyou have more? Would you have the first a general and the second abishop?

In France you may see colonels in leading-strings, and in Spain the royalprinces command armies even at eighteen; hence Prince Stahremberg forcedthem to retreat so often that they were never able all the rest of theirlives to comprehend any other manoeuvre. 

It is necessary to be sincere at Court, and severe in the field, stoicalwithout obduracy, magnanimous without weakness, and to gain the esteem ofour enemies by the justice of our actions; and this, madam, is what I aimat. JOSEPH VIENNA, September, 1787. 

(From the inedited Letters of Joseph IL, published at Paris, by Persan, 1822. )

CHAPTER X. 

During the alarm for the life of the Queen, regret at not possessing anheir to the throne was not even thought of. The King himself was whollyoccupied with the care of preserving an adored wife. The young Princesswas presented to her mother. "Poor little one, " said the Queen, "you werenot wished for, but you are not on that account less dear to me. A sonwould have been rather the property of the State. You shall be mine; youshall have my undivided care, shall share all my happiness, and console mein all my troubles. "

The King despatched a courier to Paris, and wrote letters himself toVienna, by the Queen's bedside; and part of the rejoicings ordered tookplace in the capital. 

A great number of attendants watched near the Queen during the firstnights of her confinement. This custom distressed her; she knew how tofeel for others, and ordered large armchairs for her women, the backs ofwhich were capable of being let down by springs, and which servedperfectly well instead of beds. 

M. De Lassone, the chief physician, the chief surgeon, the chiefapothecary, the principal officers of the buttery, etc. , were likewisenine nights without going to bed. The royal children were watched for along time, and one of the women on duty remained, nightly, up and dressed, during the first three years from their birth. 

The Queen made her entry into Paris for the churching. One hundredmaidens were portioned and married at Notre-Dame. There were few popularacclamations, but her Majesty was perfectly well received at the Opera. 

A few days after the Queen's recovery from her confinement, the Cure ofthe Magdelaine de la City at Paris wrote to M. Campan and requested aprivate interview with him; it was to desire he would deliver into thehands of the Queen a little box containing her wedding ring, with thisnote written by the Cure: "I have received under the seal of confessionthe ring which I send to your Majesty; with an avowal that it was stolenfrom you in 1771, in order to be used in sorceries, to prevent your havingany children. " On seeing her ring again the Queen said that she had infact lost it about seven years before, while washing her hands, and thatshe had resolved to use no endeavour to discover the superstitious womanwho had done her the injury. 

The Queen's attachment to the Comtesse Jules increased every day; she wentfrequently to her house at Paris, and even took up her own abode at theChateau de la Muette to be nearer during her confinement. She marriedMademoiselle de Polignac, when scarcely thirteen years of age, to M. DeGrammont, who, on account of this marriage, was made Duc de Guiche, andcaptain of the King's Guards, in reversion after the Duc de Villeroi. TheDuchesse de Civrac, Madame Victoire's dame d'honneur, had been promisedthe place for the Duc de Lorges, her son. The number of discontentedfamilies at Court increased. 

The title of favourite was too openly given to the Comtesse Jules by herfriends. The lot of the favourite of a queen is not, in France, a happyone; the favourites of kings are treated, out of gallantry, with muchgreater indulgence. 

A short time after the birth of Madame the Queen became again enceinte;she had mentioned it only to the King, to her physician, and to a fewpersons honoured with her intimate confidence, when, having overexertedher strength in pulling lip one of the glasses of her carriage, she feltthat she had hurt herself, and eight days afterwards she miscarried. TheKing spent the whole morning at her bedside, consoling her, andmanifesting the tenderest concern for her. The Queen wept exceedingly;the King took her affectionately in his arms, and mingled his tears withhers. The King enjoined silence among the small number of persons whowere informed of this unfortunate occurrence; and it remained generallyunknown. These particulars furnish an accurate idea of the manner inwhich this august couple lived together. 

The Empress Maria Theresa did not enjoy the happiness of seeing herdaughter give an heir to the crown of France. That illustrious Princessdied at the close of 1780, after having proved by her example that, as inthe instance of Queen Blanche, the talents of a sovereign might be blendedwith the virtues of a pious princess. The King was deeply affected at thedeath of the Empress; and on the arrival of the courier from Vienna saidthat he could not bring himself to afflict the Queen by informing her ofan event which grieved even him so much. His Majesty thought the Abbe deVermond, who had possessed the confidence of Maria Theresa during his stayat Vienna, the most proper person to discharge this painful duty. He senthis first valet de chambre, M. De Chamilly, to the Abbe on the evening ofthe day he received the despatches from Vienna, to order him to come thenext day to the Queen before her breakfast hour, to acquit himselfdiscreetly of the afflicting commission with which he was charged, and tolet his Majesty know the moment of his entering the Queen's chamber. Itwas the King's intention to be there precisely a quarter of an hour afterhim, and he was punctual to his time; he was announced; the Abbe came out;and his Majesty said to him, as he drew up at the door to let him pass, "Ithank you, Monsieur l'Abbe, for the service you have just done me. " Thiswas the only time during nineteen years that the King spoke to him. 

Within an hour after learning the event the Queen put on temporarymourning, while waiting until her Court mourning should be ready; she keptherself shut up in her apartments for several days; went out only to mass;saw none but the royal family; and received none but the Princesse deLamballe and the Duchesse de Polignac. She talked incessantly of thecourage, the misfortunes, the successes, and the virtues of her mother. The shroud and dress in which Maria Theresa was to be buried, madeentirely by her own hands, were found ready prepared in one of herclosets. She often regretted that the numerous duties of her augustmother had prevented her from watching in person over the education of herdaughters; and modestly said that she herself would have been more worthyif she had had the good fortune to receive lessons directly from asovereign so enlightened and so deserving of admiration. 

The Queen told me one day that her mother was left a widow at an age whenher beauty was yet striking; that she was secretly informed of a plot laidby her three principal ministers to make themselves agreeable to her; of acompact made between them, that the losers should not feel any jealousytowards him who should be fortunate enough to gain his sovereign's heart;and that they had sworn that the successful one should be always thefriend of the other two. The Empress being assured of this scheme, oneday after the breaking up of the council over which she had presided, turned the conversation upon the subject of female sovereigns, and theduties of their sex and rank; and then applying her general reflections toherself in particular, told them that she hoped to guard herself all herlife against weaknesses of the heart; but that if ever an irresistiblefeeling should make her alter her resolution, it should be only in favourof a man proof against ambition, not engaged in State affairs, butattached only to a private life and its calm enjoyments, --in a word, ifher heart should betray her so far as to lead her to love a man investedwith any important office, from the moment he should discover hersentiments he would forfeit his place and his influence with the public. This was sufficient; the three ministers, more ambitious than amorous, gave up their projects for ever. 

On the 22d of October, 1781, the Queen gave birth to a Dauphin. --[Thefirst Dauphin, Louis, born 1781, died 1789. ]--So deep a silence prevailedin the room that the Queen thought her child was a daughter; but after theKeeper of the Seals had declared the sex of the infant, the King went upto the Queen's bed, and said to her, "Madame, you have fulfilled my wishesand those of France: you are the mother of a Dauphin. " The King's joy wasboundless; tears streamed from his eyes; he gave his hand to every onepresent; and his happiness carried away his habitual reserve. Cheerfuland affable, he was incessantly taking occasion to introduce the words, "my son, " or "the Dauphin. " As soon as the Queen was in bed, she wishedto see the long-looked-for infant. The Princesse de Guemenee brought himto her. The Queen said there was no need for commending him to thePrincess, but in order to enable her to attend to him more freely, shewould herself share the care of the education of her daughter. When theDauphin was settled in his apartment, he received the customary homagesand visits. The Duc d'Angouleme, meeting his father at the entrance ofthe Dauphin's apartment, said to him, "Oh, papa! how little my cousinis!"--"The day will come when you will think him great enough, my dear, "answered the Prince, almost involuntarily. --[Eldest son of the Comted'Artois, and till the birth of the Dauphin with near prospects of thesuccession. ]

The birth of the Dauphin appeared to give joy to all classes. Men stoppedone another in the streets, spoke without being acquainted, and those whowere acquainted embraced each other. In the birth of a legitimate heir tothe sovereign every man beholds a pledge of prosperity and tranquillity. 

[M. Merard de Saint Just made a quatrain on the birth of the Dauphin tothe following effect:

"This infant Prince our hopes are centred in, will doubtless make ushappy, rich, and free; And since with somebody he must begin, My ferventprayer is--that it may be me!"

--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

The rejoicings were splendid and ingenious. The artificers and tradesmenof Paris spent considerable sums in order to go to Versailles in a body, with their various insignia. Almost every troop had music with it. Whenthey arrived at the court of the palace, they there arranged themselves soas to present a most interesting living picture. Chimney-sweepers, quiteas well dressed as those that appear upon the stage, carried an ornamentedchimney, at the top of which was perched one of the smallest of theirfraternity. The chairmen carried a sedan highly gilt, in which were to beseen a handsome nurse and a little Dauphin. The butchers made theirappearance with their fat ox. Cooks, masons, blacksmiths, all trades wereon the alert. The smiths hammered away upon an anvil, the shoemakersfinished off a little pair of boots for the Dauphin, and the tailors alittle suit of the uniform of his regiment. The King remained a long timeupon a balcony to enjoy the sight. The whole Court was delighted with it. So general was the enthusiasm that (the police not having carefullyexamined the procession) the grave-diggers had the imprudence to sendtheir deputation also, with the emblematic devices of their ill-omenedoccupation. They were met by the Princesse Sophie, the King's aunt, whowas thrilled with horror at the sight, and entreated the King to have theaudacious, fellows driven out of the procession, which was then drawing upon the terrace. 

The 'dames de la halle' came to congratulate the Queen, and were receivedwith the suitable ceremonies. 

Fifty of them appeared dressed in black silk gowns, the established fulldress of their order, and almost all wore diamonds. The Princesse deChimay went to the door of the Queen's bedroom to receive three of theseladies, who were led up to the Queen's bed. One of them addressed herMajesty in a speech written by M. De la Harpe. It was set down on theinside of a fan, to which the speaker repeatedly referred, but without anyembarrassment. She was handsome, and had a remarkably fine voice. TheQueen was affected by the address, and answered it with greataffability, --wishing a distinction to be made between these women and thepoissardes, who always left a disagreeable impression on her mind. 

The King ordered a substantial repast for all these women. One of hisMajesty's maitres d'hotel, wearing his hat, sat as president and did thehonours of the table. The public were admitted, and numbers of people hadthe curiosity to go. 

The Garden-du-Corps obtained the King's permission to give the Queen adress ball in the great hall of the Opera at Versailles. Her Majestyopened the ball in a minuet with a private selected by the corps, to whomthe King granted the baton of an exempt. The fete was most splendid. Allthen was joy, happiness, and peace. 

The Dauphin was a year old when the Prince de Guemenee's bankruptcycompelled the Princess, his wife, who was governess to the children ofFrance, to resign her situation. 

The Queen was at La Muette for the inoculation of her daughter. She sentfor me, and condescended to say she wished to converse with me about ascheme which delighted her, but in the execution of which she foresaw someinconveniences. Her plan was to appoint the Duchesse de Polignac to theoffice lately held by the Princesse de Guemenee. She saw with extremepleasure the facilities which this appointment would give her forsuperintending the education of her children, without running any risk ofhurting the pride of the governess; and that it would bring together theobjects of her warmest affections, her children and her friend. "Thefriends of the Duchesse de Polignac, " continued the Queen, "will begratified by the splendour and importance conferred by the employment. Asto the Duchess, I know her; the place by no means suits her simple andquiet habits, nor the sort of indolence of her disposition. She will giveme the greatest possible proof of her devotion if she yields to my wish. "The Queen also spoke of the Princesse de Chimay and the Duchesse de Duras, whom the public pointed out as fit for the post; but she thought thePrincesse de Chimay's piety too rigid; and as to the Duchesse de Duras, her wit and learning quite frightened her. What the Queen dreaded as theconsequence of her selection of the Duchesse de Polignac was principallythe jealousy of the courtiers; but she showed so lively a desire to seeher scheme executed that I had no doubt she would soon set at naught allthe obstacles she discovered. I was not mistaken; a few days afterwardsthe Duchess was appointed governess. 

The Queen's object in sending for me was no doubt to furnish me with themeans of explaining the feelings which induced her to prefer a governessdisposed by friendship to suffer her to enjoy all the privileges of amother. Her Majesty knew that I saw a great deal of company. 

The Queen frequently dined with the Duchess after having been present atthe King's private dinner. Sixty-one thousand francs were therefore addedto the salary of the governess as a compensation for this increase ofexpense. 

The Queen was tired of the excursions to Marly, and had no greatdifficulty in setting the King against them. He did not like the expenseof them, for everybody was entertained there gratis. Louis XIV. Hadestablished a kind of parade upon these excursions, differing from that ofVersailles, but still more annoying. Card and supper parties occurredevery day, and required much dress. On Sundays and holidays the fountainsplayed, the people were admitted into the gardens, and there was as greata crowd as at the fetes of St. Cloud. 

Every age has its peculiar colouring; Marly showed that of Louis XIV. Evenmore than Versailles. Everything in the former place appeared to havebeen produced by the magic power of a fairy's wand. Not the slightesttrace of all this splendour remains; the revolutionary spoilers even toreup the pipes which served to supply the fountains. Perhaps a briefdescription of this palace and the usages established there by Louis XIV. May be acceptable. 

The very extensive gardens of Marly ascended almost imperceptibly to thePavilion of the Sun. , which was occupied only by the King and his family. The pavilions of the twelve zodiacal signs bounded the two sides of thelawn. They were connected by bowers impervious to the rays of the sun. The pavilions nearest to that of the sun were reserved for the Princes ofthe blood and the ministers; the rest were occupied by persons holdingsuperior offices at Court, or invited to stay at Marly. Each pavilion wasnamed after fresco paintings, which covered its walls, and which had beenexecuted by the most celebrated artists of the age of Louis XIV. On a linewith the upper pavilion there was on the left a chapel; on the right apavilion called La Perspective, which concealed along suite of offices, containing a hundred lodging-rooms intended for the persons belonging tothe service of the Court, kitchens, and spacious dining-rooms, in whichmore than thirty tables were splendidly laid out. 

During half of Louis XV. 's reign the ladies still wore the habit de courde Marly, so named by Louis XIV. , and which differed little from, thatdevised for Versailles. The French gown, gathered in the back, and withgreat hoops, replaced this dress, and continued to be worn till the end ofthe reign of Louis XVI. The diamonds, feathers, rouge, and embroideredstuffs spangled with gold, effaced all trace of a rural residence; but thepeople loved to see the splendour of their sovereign and a brilliant Courtglittering in the shades of the woods. 

After dinner, and before the hour for cards, the Queen, the Princesses, and their ladies, paraded among the clumps of trees, in little carriages, beneath canopies richly embroidered with gold, drawn by men in the King'slivery. The trees planted by Louis XIV. Were of prodigious height, which, however, was surpassed in several of the groups by fountains of theclearest water; while, among others, cascades over white marble, thewaters of which, met by the sunbeams, looked like draperies of silvergauze, formed a contrast to the solemn darkness of the groves. 

In the evening nothing more was necessary for any well-dressed man toprocure admission to the Queen's card parties than to be named andpresented, by some officer of the Court, to the gentleman usher of thecard-room. This room, which was very, large, and of octagonal shape, roseto the top of the Italian roof, and terminated in a cupola furnished withbalconies, in which ladies who had not been presented easily obtainedleave to place themselves, and enjoy, the sight of the brilliantassemblage. 

Though not of the number of persons belonging to the Court, gentlemenadmitted into this salon might request one of the ladies seated with theQueen at lansquenet or faro to bet upon her cards with such gold or notesas they presented to her. Rich people and the gamblers of Paris did notmiss one of the evenings at the Marly salon, and there were alwaysconsiderable sums won and lost. Louis XVI. Hated high play, and veryoften showed displeasure when the loss of large sums was mentioned. Thefashion of wearing a black coat without being in mourning had not thenbeen introduced, and the King gave a few of his 'coups de boutoir' tocertain chevaliers de St. Louis, dressed in this manner, who came toventure two or three louis, in the hope that fortune would favour thehandsome duchesses who deigned to place them on their cards. 

[Bachaumont in his "Memoirs, " (tome xii. , p. 189), which are oftensatirical; and always somewhat questionable, speaks of the singularprecautions taken at play at Court. "The bankers at the Queen's table, "says he, "in order to prevent the mistakes [I soften the harshness of hisexpression] which daily happen, have obtained permission from her Majestythat before beginning to play the table shall be bordered by a ribbonentirely round it, and that no other money than that upon the cards beyondthe ribbon shall be considered as staked. "--NOTE By THE EDITOR. ]

Singular contrasts are often seen amidst the grandeur of courts. In orderto manage such high play at the Queen's faro table, it was necessary tohave a banker provided with large, sums of money; and this necessityplaced at the table, to which none but the highest titled persons wereadmitted in general, not only M. De Chalabre, who was its banker, but alsoa retired captain of foot, who officiated as his second. A word, trivial, but perfectly appropriate to express the manner in which the Court wasattended there, was often heard. Gentlemen presented at Court, who hadnot been invited to stay at Marly, came there notwithstanding, as they didto Versailles, and returned again to Paris; under such circumstances, itwas said such a one had been to Marly only 'en polisson';--[A contemptuousexpression, meaning literally "as a scamp" or "rascal"]--and it appearedodd to hear a captivating marquis, in answer to the inquiry whether he wasof the royal party at Marly, say, "No, I am only here 'en polisson', "meaning simply "I am here on the footing of all those whose nobility is ofa later date than 1400. " The Marly excursions were exceedingly expensiveto the King. Besides the superior tables, those of the almoners, equerries, maitres d'hotel, etc. , were all supplied with such a degree ofmagnificence as to allow of inviting strangers to them; and almost all thevisitors from Paris were boarded at the expense of the Court. 

The personal frugality of the unfortunate Prince who sank beneath theweight of the national debts thus favoured the Queen's predilection forher Petit Trianon; and for five or six years preceding the Revolution theCourt very seldom visited Marly. 

The King, always attentive to the comfort of his family, gave Mesdames, his aunts, the use of the Chateau de Bellevue, and afterwards purchasedthe Princesse de Guemenee's house, at the entrance to Paris, forElisabeth. The Comtesse de Provence bought a small house at Montreuil;Monsieur already had Brunoy; the Comtesse d'Artois built Bagatelle;Versailles became, in the estimation of all the royal family, the leastagreeable of residences. They only fancied themselves at home in theplainest houses, surrounded by English gardens, where they better enjoyedthe beauties of nature. The taste for cascades and statues was entirelypast. 

The Queen occasionally remained a whole month at Petit Trianon, and hadestablished there all the ways of life in a chateau. She entered thesitting-room without driving the ladies from their pianoforte orembroidery. The gentlemen continued their billiards or backgammon withoutsuffering her presence to interrupt them. There was but little room inthe small Chateau of Trianon. Madame Elisabeth accompanied the Queenthere, but the ladies of honour and ladies of the palace had noestablishment at Trianon. When invited by the Queen, they came fromVersailles to dinner. The King and Princes came regularly to sup. Awhite gown, a gauze kerchief, and a straw hat were the uniform dress ofthe Princesses. 

[The extreme simplicity of the Queen's toilet began to be stronglycensured, at first among the courtiers, and afterwards throughout thekingdom; and through one of those inconsistencies more common in Francethan elsewhere, while the Queen was blamed, she was blindly imitated. There was not a woman but would have the same undress, the same cap, andthe same feathers as she had been seen to wear. They crowded toMademoiselle Bertin, her milliner; there was an absolute revolution in thedress of our ladies, which gave importance to that woman. Long trains, and all those fashions which confer a certain nobility on dress, werediscarded; and at last a duchess could not be distinguished from anactress. The men caught the mania; the upper classes had long beforegiven up to their lackeys feathers, tufts of ribbon, and laced hats. Theynow got rid of red heels and embroidery; and walked about our streets inplain cloth, short thick shoes, and with knotty cudgels in their hands. Many humiliating scrapes were the consequence of this metamorphosis. Bearing no mark to distinguish them from the common herd, some of thelowest classes got into quarrels with them, in which the nobles had notalways the best of it. --MONTJOIE, "History of Marie Antoinette. "]

Examining all the manufactories of the hamlet, seeing the cows milked, andfishing in the lake delighted the Queen; and every year she showedincreased aversion to the pompous excursions to Marly. 

The idea of acting comedies, as was then done in almost all countryhouses, followed on the Queen's wish to live at Trianon without ceremony. 

[The Queen got through the characters she assumed indifferently enough;she could hardly be ignorant of this, as her performances evidentlyexcited little pleasure. Indeed, one day while she was thus exhibiting, somebody ventured to say, by no means inaudibly, "well, this is royallyill played!" The lesson was thrown away upon her, for never did shesacrifice to the opinion of another that which she thought permissible. When she was told that her extreme plainness in dress, the nature of heramusements, and her dislike to that splendour which ought always to attenda Queen, had an appearance of levity, which was misinterpreted by aportion of the public, she replied with Madame de Maintenon: "I am uponthe stage, and of course I shall be either hissed or applauded. " LouisXIV. Had a similar taste; he danced upon the stage; but he had shown bybrilliant actions that he knew how to enforce respect; and besides, heunhesitatingly gave up the amusement from the moment he heard thosebeautiful lines in which Racine pointed out how very unworthy of him suchpastimes were. --MONTJOIE, "History of Marie Antoinette. "]

It was agreed that no young man except the Comte d'Artois should beadmitted into the company of performers, and that the audience shouldconsist only of the King, Monsieur, and the Princesses, who did not play;but in order to stimulate the actors a little, the first boxes were to beoccupied by the readers, the Queen's ladies, their sisters and daughters, making altogether about forty persons. 

The Queen laughed heartily at the voice of M. D'Adhemar, formerly a veryfine one, but latterly become rather tremulous. His shepherd's dress inColin, in the "Devin du Village, " contrasted very ridiculously with histime of life, and the Queen said it would be difficult for malevolenceitself to find anything to criticise in the choice of such a lover. TheKing was highly amused with these plays, and was present at everyperformance. Caillot, a celebrated actor, who had long quitted the stage, and Dazincourt, both of acknowledged good character, were selected to givelessons, the first in comic opera, of which the easier sorts werepreferred, and the second in comedy. The office of hearer of rehearsals, prompter, and stage manager was given to my father-in-law. The Duc deFronsac, first gentleman of the chamber, was much hurt at this. Hethought himself called upon to make serious remonstrances upon thesubject, and wrote to the Queen, who made him the following answer: "Youcannot be first gentleman when we are the actors. Besides, I have alreadyintimated to you my determination respecting Trianon. I hold no courtthere, I live like a private person, and M. Campan shall be alwaysemployed to execute orders relative to the private fetes I choose to givethere. " This not putting a stop to the Duke's remonstrances, the King wasobliged to interfere. The Duke continued obstinate, and insisted that hewas entitled to manage the private amusements as much as those which werepublic. It became absolutely necessary to end the argument in a positivemanner. 

The diminutive Duc de Fronsac never failed, when he came to pay hisrespects to the Queen at her toilet, to turn the conversation uponTrianon, in order to make some ironical remarks on my father-in-law, ofwhom, from the time of his appointment, he always spoke as "my colleagueCampan. " The Queen would shrug her shoulders, and say, when he was gone, "It is quite shocking to find so little a man in the son of the Marechalde Richelieu. "

So long as no strangers were admitted to the performances they were butlittle censured; but the praise obtained by the performers made them lookfor a larger circle of admirers. The company, for a private company, wasgood enough, and the acting was applauded to the skies; nevertheless, asthe audience withdrew, adverse criticisms were occasionally heard. TheQueen permitted the officers of the Body Guards and the equerries of theKing and Princes to be present at the plays. Private boxes were providedfor some of the people belonging to the Court; a few more ladies wereinvited; and claims arose on all sides for the favour of admission. TheQueen refused to admit the officers of the body guards of the Princes, theofficers of the King's Cent Suisses, and many other persons, who werehighly mortified at the refusal. 

While delight at having given an heir to the throne of the Bourbons, and asuccession of fetes and amusements, filled up the happy days of MarieAntoinette, the public was engrossed by the Anglo-American war. Twokings, or rather their ministers, planted and propagated the love ofliberty in the new world; the King of England, by shutting his ears andhis heart against the continued and respectful representations of subjectsat a distance from their native land, who had become numerous, rich, andpowerful, through the resources of the soil they had fertilised; and theKing of France, by giving support to this people in rebellion againsttheir ancient sovereign. Many young soldiers, belonging to the firstfamilies of the country, followed La Fayette's example, and forsookluxury, amusement, and love, to go and tender their aid to the revoltedAmericans. Beaumarchais, secretly seconded by Messieurs de Maurepas andde Vergennes, obtained permission to send out supplies of arms andclothing. Franklin appeared at Court in the dress of an Americanagriculturist. His unpowdered hair, his round hat, his brown cloth coatformed a contrast to the laced and embroidered coats and the powder andperfume of the courtiers of Versailles. This novelty turned the lightheads of the Frenchwomen. Elegant entertainments were given to DoctorFranklin, who, to the reputation of a man of science, added the patrioticvirtues which invested him with the character of an apostle of liberty. Iwas present at one of these entertainments, when the most beautiful womanout of three hundred was selected to place a crown of laurels upon thewhite head of the American philosopher, and two kisses upon his cheeks. Even in the palace of Versailles Franklin's medallion was sold under theKing's eyes, in the exhibition of Sevres porcelain. The legend of thismedallion was:

"Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis. "

The King never declared his opinion upon an enthusiasm which his correctjudgment no doubt led him to blame. The Queen spoke out more plainlyabout the part France was taking respecting the independence of theAmerican colonies, and constantly opposed it. Far was she from foreseeingthat a revolution at--such a distance could excite one in which amisguided populace would drag her from her palace to a death equallyunjust and cruel. She only saw something ungenerous in the method whichFrance adopted of checking the power of England. 

However, as Queen of France, she enjoyed the sight of a whole peoplerendering homage to the prudence, courage, and good qualities of a youngFrenchman; and she shared the enthusiasm inspired by the conduct andmilitary success of the Marquis de La Fayette. The Queen granted himseveral audiences on his first return from America, and, until the 10th ofAugust, on which day my house was plundered, I preserved some lines fromGaston and Bayard, in which the friends of M. De La Fayette saw the exactoutline of his character, written by her own hand:

 "Why talk of youth, When all the ripe experience of the old Dwells with him? In his schemes profound and cool, He acts with wise precaution, and reserves For time of action his impetuous fire. To guard the camp, to scale the leaguered wall, Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils That suit th' impetuous bearing of his youth; Yet like the gray-hair'd veteran he can shun The field of peril. Still before my eyes I place his bright example, for I love His lofty courage, and his prudent thought. Gifted like him, a warrior has no age. "

[During the American war a general officer in the service of the UnitedStates advanced with a score of men under the English batteries toreconnoitre their position. His aide-de-camp, struck by a ball, fell athis side. The officers and orderly dragoons fled precipitately. Thegeneral, though under the fire of the cannon, approached the wounded manto see whether any help could be afforded him. Finding the wound had beenmortal, he slowly rejoined the group which had got out of the reach of thecannon. This instance of courage and humanity took place at the battle ofMonmouth. General Clinton, who commanded the English troops, knew that theMarquis de La Fayette generally rode a white horse; it was upon a whitehorse that the general officer who retired so slowly was mounted; Clintondesired the gunners not to fire. This noble forbearance probably saved M. De La Fayette's life, for he it was. At that time he was but twenty-twoyears of age. --"Historical Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI. "]

These lines had been applauded and encored at the French theatre;everybody's head was turned. There was no class of persons that did notheartily approve of the support given openly by the French Government tothe cause of American independence. The constitution planned for the newnation was digested at Paris, and while liberty, equality, and the rightsof man were commented upon by the Condorcets, Baillys, Mirabeaus, etc. , the minister Segur published the King's edict, which, by repealing that of1st November, 1750, declared all officers not noble by four generationsincapable of filling the rank of captain, and denied all military rank tothe roturiers, excepting sons of the chevaliers de St. Louis. 

["M. De Segur, " says Chamfort, "having published an ordinance whichprohibited the admission of any other than gentlemen into the artillerycorps, and, on the other hand, none but well-educated persons being properfor admission, a curious scene took place: the Abbe Bossat, examiner ofthe pupils, gave certificates only to plebeians, while Cherin gave themonly to gentlemen. Out of one hundred pupils, there were not above fouror five who were qualified in both respects. "]

The injustice and absurdity of this law was no doubt a secondary cause ofthe Revolution. To understand the despair and rage with which this lawinspired the Tiers Etat one should have belonged to that honourable class. The provinces were full of roturier families, who for ages had lived aspeople of property upon their own domains, and paid the taxes. If thesepersons had several sons, they would place one in the King's service, onein the Church, another in the Order of Malta as a chevalier servantd'armes, and one in the magistracy; while the eldest preserved thepaternal manor, and if he were situated in a country celebrated for wine, he would, besides selling his own produce, add a kind of commission tradein the wines of the canton. I have seen an individual of this justlyrespected class, who had been long employed in diplomatic business, andeven honoured with the title of minister plenipotentiary, the son-in-lawand nephew of colonels and town mayors, and, on his mother's side, nephewof a lieutenant-general with a cordon rouge, unable to introduce his sonsas sous-lieutenants into a regiment of foot. 

Another decision of the Court, which could not be announced by an edict, was that all ecclesiastical benefices, from the humblest priory up to therichest abbey, should in future be appanages of the nobility. Being theson of a village surgeon, the Abbe de Vermond, who had great influence inthe disposition of benefices, was particularly struck with the justice ofthis decree. 

During the absence of the Abbe in an excursion he made for his health, Iprevailed on the Queen to write a postscript to the petition of a cure, one of my friends, who was soliciting a priory near his curacy, with theintention of retiring to it. I obtained it for him. On the Abbe's returnhe told me very harshly that I should act in a manner quite contrary tothe King's wishes if I again obtained such a favour; that the wealth ofthe Church was for the future to be invariably devoted to the support ofthe poorer nobility; that it was the interest of the State that it shouldbe so; and a plebeian priest, happy in a good curacy, had only to remaincurate. 

Can we be astonished at the part shortly afterwards taken by the deputiesof the Third Estate, when called to the States General?

CHAPTER XI. 

About the close of the last century several of the Northern sovereignstook a fancy for travelling. Christian III. , King of Denmark, visited theCourt of France in 1763, during the reign of Louis XV. We have seen theKing of Sweden and Joseph II. At Versailles. The Grand Duke of Russia(afterwards Paul I. ), son of Catherine II. , and the Princess ofWurtemberg, his wife, likewise resolved to visit France. They travelledunder the titles of the Comte and Comtesse du Nord. They were presentedon the 20th of May, 1782. The Queen received them with grace and dignity. On the day of their arrival at Versailles they dined in private with theKing and Queen. 

The plain, unassuming appearance of Paul I. Pleased Louis XVI. He spoketo him with more confidence and cheerfulness than he had spoken to JosephII. The Comtesse du Nord was not at first so successful with the Queen. This lady was of a fine height, very fat for her age, with all the Germanstiffness, well informed, and perhaps displaying her acquirements withrather too much confidence. When the Comte and Comtesse du Nord werepresented the Queen was exceedingly nervous. She withdrew into her closetbefore she went into the room where she was to dine with the illustrioustravellers, and asked for a glass of water, confessing "she had justexperienced how much more difficult it was to play the part of a queen inthe presence of other sovereigns, or of princes born to become so, thanbefore courtiers. " She soon recovered from her confusion, and reappearedwith ease and confidence. The dinner was tolerably cheerful, and theconversation very animated. 

Brilliant entertainments were given at Court in honour of the King ofSweden and the Comte du Nord. They were received in private by the Kingand Queen, but they were treated with much more ceremony than the Emperor, and their Majesties always appeared to me to be very, cautious beforethese personages. However, the King one day asked the Russian Grand Dukeif it were true that he could not rely on the fidelity of any one of thosewho accompanied him. The Prince answered him without hesitation, andbefore a considerable number of persons, that he should be very sorry tohave with him even a poodle that was much attached to him, because hismother would take care to have it thrown into the Seine, with a stoneround its neck, before he should leave Paris. This reply, which I myselfheard, horrified me, whether it depicted the disposition of Catherine, oronly expressed the Prince's prejudice against her. 

The Queen gave the Grand Duke a supper at Trianon, and had the gardensilluminated as they had been for the Emperor. The Cardinal de Rohan veryindiscreetly ventured to introduce himself there without the Queen'sknowledge. Having been treated with the utmost coolness ever since hisreturn from Vienna, he had not dared to ask her himself for permission tosee the illumination; but he persuaded the porter of Trianon to admit himas soon as the Queen should have set off for Versailles, and his Eminenceengaged to remain in the porter's lodge until all the carriages shouldhave left the chateau. He did not keep his word, and while the porter wasbusy in the discharge of his duty, the Cardinal, who wore his redstockings and had merely thrown on a greatcoat, went down into the garden, and, with an air of mystery, drew up in two different places to see theroyal family and suite pass by. 

Her Majesty was highly offended at this piece of boldness, and next dayordered the porter to be discharged. There was a general feeling ofdisgust at the Cardinal's conduct, and of commiseration towards the porterfor the loss of his place. Affected at the misfortune of the father of afamily, I obtained his forgiveness; and since that time I have oftenregretted the feeling which induced me to interfere. The notoriety of thedischarge of the porter of Trianon, and the odium that circumstance wouldhave fixed upon the Cardinal, would have made the Queen's dislike to himstill more publicly known, and would probably have prevented thescandalous and notorious intrigue of the necklace. 

The Queen, who was much prejudiced against the King of Sweden, receivedhim very coldly. 

[Gustavus III. , King of Sweden, travelled in France under the title ofComte d'Haga. Upon his accession to the throne, he managed the revolutionwhich prostrated the authority of the Senate with equal skill, coolness, and courage. He was assassinated in 1792, at a masked ball, byAuckarstrum. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

All that was said of the private character of that sovereign, hisconnection with the Comte de Vergennes, from the time of the Revolution ofSweden, in 1772, the character of his favourite Armfeldt, and theprejudices of the monarch himself against the Swedes who were wellreceived at the Court of Versailles, formed the grounds of this dislike. He came one day uninvited and unexpected, and requested to dine with theQueen. The Queen received him in the little closet, and desired me tosend for her clerk of the kitchen, that she might be informed whetherthere was a proper dinner to set before Comte d'Haga, and add to it ifnecessary. The King of Sweden assured her that there would be enough forhim; and I could not help smiling when I thought of the length of the menuof the dinner of the King and Queen, not half of which would have made itsappearance had they dined in private. The Queen looked significantly atme, and I withdrew. In the evening she asked me why I had seemed soastonished when she ordered me to add to her dinner, saying that I oughtinstantly to have seen that she was giving the King of Sweden a lesson forhis presumption. I owned to her that the scene had appeared to me so muchin the bourgeois style, that I involuntarily thought of the cutlets on thegridiron, and the omelette, which in families in humble circumstancesserve to piece out short commons. She was highly diverted with my answer, and repeated it to the King, who also laughed heartily at it. 

The peace with England satisfied all classes of society interested in thenational honour. The departure of the English commissary from Dunkirk, who had been fixed at that place ever since the shameful peace of 1763 asinspector of our navy, occasioned an ecstasy of joy. 

[By the Treaty of Utrecht (1713) it was stipulated that the fortificationsand port of Dunkirk should be destroyed. By the Treaty of Paris (1763) acommissary was to reside at Dunkirk to see that no attempt was made tobreak this treaty. This stipulation was revoked by the Peace ofVersailles, in 1783. --see DYER'S "Modern Europe, " 1st edition, vol. I. , pp. 205-438 and 539. ]

The Government communicated to the Englishman the order for his departurebefore the treaty was made public. But for that precaution the populacewould have probably committed some excess or other, in order to make theagent of English power feel the effects of the resentment which hadconstantly increased during his stay at that port. Those engaged in tradewere the only persons dissatisfied with the treaty of 1783. That articlewhich provided for, the free admission of English goods annihilated at oneblow the trade of Rouen and the other manufacturing towns throughout thekingdom. The English swarmed into Paris. A considerable number of themwere presented at Court. The Queen paid them marked attention; doubtlessshe wished them to distinguish between the esteem she felt for their noblenation and the political views of the Government in the support it hadafforded to the Americans. Discontent was, however, manifested at Courtin consequence of the favour bestowed by the Queen on the Englishnoblemen; these attentions were called infatuations. This was illiberal;and the Queen justly complained of such absurd jealousy. 

The journey to Fontainebleau and the winter at Paris and at Court wereextremely brilliant. The spring brought back those amusements which theQueen began to prefer to the splendour of fetes. The most perfect harmonysubsisted between the King and Queen; I never saw but one cloud betweenthem. It was soon dispelled, and the cause of it is perfectly unknown tome. 

My father-in-law, whose penetration and experience I respected greatly, recommended me, when he saw me placed in the service of a young queen, toshun all kinds of confidence. "It procures, " said he, "but a veryfleeting, and at the same time dangerous sort of favour; serve with zealto the best of your judgment, but never do more than obey. Instead ofsetting your wits to work to discover why an order or a commission whichmay appear of consequence is given to you, use them to prevent thepossibility of your knowing anything of the matter. " I had occasion toact on this wise advice. One morning at Trianon I went into the Queen'schamber; there were letters lying upon the bed, and she was weepingbitterly. Her tears and sobs were occasionally interrupted byexclamations of "Ah! that I were dead!--wretches! monsters! What have Idone to them?" I offered her orange-flower water and ether. "Leave me, "said she, "if you love me; it would be better to kill me at once. " Atthis moment she threw her arm over my shoulder and began weeping afresh. Isaw that some weighty trouble oppressed her heart, and that she wanted aconfidant. I suggested sending for the Duchesse de Polignac; this shestrongly opposed. I renewed my arguments, and her opposition grew weaker. I disengaged myself from her arms, and ran to the antechamber, where Iknew that an outrider always waited, ready to mount and start at amoment's warning for Versailles. I ordered him to go full speed, and tellthe Duchesse de Polignac that the Queen was very uneasy, and desired tosee her instantly. The Duchess always had a carriage ready. In less thanten minutes she was at the Queen's door. I was the only person there, having been forbidden to send for the other women. Madame de Polignaccame in; the Queen held out her arms to her, the Duchess rushed towardsher. I heard her sobs renewed and withdrew. 

A quarter of an hour afterwards the Queen, who had become calmer, rang tobe dressed. I sent her woman in; she put on her gown and retired to herboudoir with the Duchess. Very soon afterwards the Comte d'Artois arrivedfrom Compiegne, where he had been with the King. He eagerly inquiredwhere the Queen was; remained half an hour with her and the Duchess; andon coming out told me the Queen asked for me. I found her seated on thecouch by the side of her friend; her features had resumed their usualcheerful and gracious appearance. She held out her hand to me, and saidto the Duchess, "I know I have made her so uncomfortable this morning thatI must set her poor heart at ease. " She then added, "You must have seen, on some fine summer's day, a black cloud suddenly appear and threaten topour down upon the country and lay it waste. The lightest wind drives itaway, and the blue sky and serene weather are restored. This is just theimage of what has happened to me this morning. " She afterwards told methat the King would return from Compiegne after hunting there, and supwith her; that I must send for her purveyor, to select with him from hisbills of fare all such dishes as the King liked best; that she would haveno others served up in the evening at her table; and that this was a markof attention that she wished the King to notice. The Duchesse de Polignacalso took me by the hand, and told me how happy she was that she had beenwith the Queen at a moment when she stood in need of a friend. I neverknew what could have created in the Queen so lively and so transient analarm; but I guessed from the particular care she took respecting the Kingthat attempts had been made to irritate him against her; that the maliceof her enemies had been promptly discovered and counteracted by the King'spenetration and attachment; and that the Comte d'Artois had hastened tobring her intelligence of it. 

It was, I think, in the summer of 1787, during one of the Trianonexcursions, that the Queen of Naples--[Caroline, sister of MarieAntoinette. ]--sent the Chevalier de Bressac to her Majesty on a secretmission relative to a projected marriage between the Hereditary Prince, her son, and Madame, the King's daughter; in the absence of the lady ofhonour he addressed himself to me. Although he said a great deal to meabout the close confidence with which the Queen of Naples honoured him, and about his letter of credit, I thought he had the air of anadventurer. --[He afterwards spent several years shut up in the Chateau del'Oeuf. ]--He had, indeed, private letters for the Queen, and his missionwas not feigned; he talked to me very rashly even before his admission, and entreated me to do all that lay in my power to dispose the Queen'smind in favour of his sovereign's wishes; I declined, assuring him that itdid not become me to meddle with State affairs. He endeavoured, but invain, to prove to me that the union contemplated by the Queen of Naplesought not to be looked upon in that light. 

I procured M. De Bressac the audience he desired, but without sufferingmyself even to seem acquainted with the object of his mission. The Queentold me what it was; she thought him a person ill-chosen for the occasion;and yet she thought that the Queen, her sister, had done wisely in notsending a man worthy to be avowed, --it being impossible that what shesolicited should take place. I had an opportunity on this occasion, asindeed on many others, of judging to what extent the Queen valued andloved France and the dignity of our Court. She then told me that Madame, in marrying her cousin, the Duc d'Angouleme, would not lose her rank asdaughter of the Queen; and that her situation would be far preferable tothat of queen of any other country; and that there was nothing in Europeto be compared to the Court of France; and that it would be necessary, inorder to avoid exposing a French Princess to feelings of deep regret, incase she should be married to a foreign prince, to take her from thepalace of Versailles at seven years of age, and send her immediately tothe Court in which she was to dwell; and that at twelve would be too late;for recollections and comparisons would ruin the happiness of all the restof her life. The Queen looked upon the destiny of her sisters as farbeneath her own; and frequently mentioned the mortifications inflicted bythe Court of Spain upon her sister, the Queen of Naples, and the necessityshe was under of imploring the mediation of the King of France. 

She showed me several letters that she had received from the Queen ofNaples relative to her differences with the Court of Madrid respecting theMinister Acton. She thought him useful to her people, inasmuch as he wasa man of considerable information and great activity. In these lettersshe minutely acquainted her Majesty with the nature of the affronts shehad received, and represented Mr. Acton to her as a man whom malevolenceitself could not suppose capable of interesting her otherwise than by hisservices. She had had to suffer the impertinences of a Spaniard named LasCasas, who had been sent to her by the King, her father-in-law, topersuade her to dismiss Mr. Acton from the business of the State, and fromher intimacy. She complained bitterly to the Queen, her sister, of theinsulting proceedings of this charge d'affaires, whom she told, in orderto convince him of the nature of the feelings which attached her to Mr. Acton, that she would have portraits and busts of him executed by the mosteminent artists of Italy, and that she would then send them to the King ofSpain, to prove that nothing but the desire to retain a man of superiorcapacity had induced her to bestow on him the favour he enjoyed. This LasCasas dared to answer her that it would be useless trouble; that theugliness of a man did not always render him displeasing; and that the Kingof Spain had too much experience not to know that there was no accountingfor the caprices of a woman. 

This audacious reply filled the Queen of Naples with indignation, and heremotion caused her to miscarry on the same day. In consequence of themediation of Louis XVI. The Queen of Naples obtained completesatisfaction, and Mr. Acton continued Prime Minister. 

Among the characteristics which denoted the goodness of the Queen, herrespect for personal liberty should have a place. I have seen her put upwith the most troublesome importunities from people whose minds werederanged rather than have them arrested. Her patient kindness was put toa very disagreeable trial by an ex-councillor of the Bordeaux Parliament, named Castelnaux; this man declared himself the lover of the Queen, andwas generally known by that appellation. For ten successive years did hefollow the Court in all its excursions. Pale and wan, as people who areout of their senses usually are, his sinister appearance occasioned themost uncomfortable sensations. During the two hours that the Queen'spublic card parties lasted, he would remain opposite her Majesty. Heplaced himself in the same manner before her at chapel, and never failedto be at the King's dinner or the dinner in public. At the theatre heinvariably seated himself as near the Queen's box as possible. He alwaysset off for Fontainebleau or St. Cloud the day before the Court, and whenher Majesty arrived at her various residences, the first person she met ongetting out of her carriage was this melancholy madman, who never spoke toany one. When the Queen stayed at Petit Trianon the passion of thisunhappy man became still more annoying. He would hastily swallow a morselat some eating-house, and spend all the rest of the day, even when itrained, in going round and round the garden, always walking at the edge ofthe moat. The Queen frequently met him when she was either alone or withher children; and yet she would not suffer any violence to be used torelieve her from this intolerable annoyance. Having one day given M. DeSeze permission to enter Trianon, she sent to desire he would come to me, and directed me to inform that celebrated advocate of M. De Castelnaux'sderangement, and then to send for him that M. De Seze might have someconversation with him. He talked to him nearly an hour, and madeconsiderable impression upon his mind; and at last M. De Castelnauxrequested me to inform the Queen positively that, since his presence wasdisagreeable to her, he would retire to his province. The Queen was verymuch rejoiced, and desired me to express her full satisfaction to M. DeSeze. Half an hour after M. De Seze was gone the unhappy madman wasannounced. He came to tell me that he withdrew his promise, that he hadnot sufficient command of himself to give up seeing the Queen as often aspossible. This new determination: was a disagreeable message to take toher Majesty but how was I affected at hearing her say, "Well, let himannoy me! but do not let him be deprived of the blessing of freedom. "

[On the arrest of the King and Queen at Varennes, this unfortunateCastelnaux attempted to starve himself to death. The people in whosehouse he lived, becoming uneasy at his absence, had the door of his roomforced open, when he was found stretched senseless on the floor. I do notknow what became of him after the 10th of August. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

The direct influence of the Queen on affairs during the earlier years ofthe reign was shown only in her exertions to obtain from the King arevision of the decrees in two celebrated causes. It was contrary to herprinciples to interfere in matters of justice, and never did she availherself of her influence to bias the tribunals. The Duchesse de Praslin, through a criminal caprice, carried her enmity to her husband so far as todisinherit her children in favour of the family of M. De Guemenee. TheDuchesse de Choiseul, who, was warmly interested in this affair, one dayentreated the Queen, in my presence, at least to condescend to ask thefirst president when the cause would be called on; the Queen replied thatshe could not even do that, for it would manifest an interest which it washer duty not to show. 

If the King had not inspired the Queen with a lively feeling of love, itis quite certain that she yielded him respect and affection for thegoodness of his disposition and the equity of which he gave so many proofsthroughout his reign. One evening she returned very late; she came out ofthe King's closet, and said to M. De Misery and myself, drying her eyes, which were filled with tears, "You see me weeping, but do not be uneasy atit: these are the sweetest tears that a wife can shed; they are caused bythe impression which the justice and goodness of the King have made uponme; he has just complied with my request for a revision of the proceedingsagainst Messieurs de Bellegarde and de Monthieu, victims of the Ducd'Aiguillon's hatred to the Duc de Choiseul. He has been equally just tothe Duc de Guines in his affair with Tort. It is a happy thing for a queento be able to admire and esteem him who has admitted her to aparticipation of his throne; and as to you, I congratulate you upon yourhaving to live under the sceptre of so virtuous a sovereign. "

The Queen laid before the King all the memorials of the Duc de Guines, who, during his embassy to England, was involved in difficulties by asecretary, who speculated in the public funds in London on his ownaccount, but in such a manner as to throw a suspicion of it on theambassador. Messieurs de Vergennes and Turgot, bearing but littlegood-will to the Duc de Guines, who was the friend of the Duc de Choiseul, were not disposed to render the ambassador any service. The Queensucceeded in fixing the King's particular attention on this affair, andthe innocence of the Duc de Guines triumphed through the equity of LouisXVI. 

An incessant underhand war was carried on between the friends andpartisans of M. De Choiseul, who were called the Austrians, and those whosided with Messieurs d'Aiguillon, de Maurepas, and de Vergennes, who, forthe same reason, kept up the intrigues carried on at Court and in Parisagainst the Queen. Marie Antoinette, on her part, supported those who hadsuffered in this political quarrel, and it was this feeling which led herto ask for a revision of the proceedings against Messieurs de Bellegardeand de Monthieu. The first, a colonel and inspector of artillery, and thesecond, proprietor of a foundry at St. Etienne, were, under the Ministryof the Duc d'Aiguillon, condemned to imprisonment for twenty years and aday for having withdrawn from the arsenals of France, by order of the Ducde Choiseul, a vast number of muskets, as being of no value except as oldiron, while in point of fact the greater part of those muskets wereimmediately embarked and sold to the Americans. It appears that the Ducde Choiseul imparted to the Queen, as grounds of defence for the accused, the political views which led him to authorise that reduction and sale inthe manner in which it had been executed. It rendered the case ofMessieurs de Bellegarde and de Monthieu more unfavourable that theartillery officer who made the reduction in the capacity of inspector was, through a clandestine marriage, brother-in-law of the owner of thefoundry, the purchaser of the rejected arms. The innocence of the twoprisoners was, nevertheless, made apparent; and they came to Versailleswith their wives and children to throw themselves at the feet of theirbenefactress. This affecting scene took place in the grand gallery, atthe entrance to the Queen's apartment. She wished to restrain the womenfrom kneeling, saying that they had only had justice done them; and thatshe ought to be congratulated upon the most substantial happinessattendant upon her station, that of laying just appeals before the King. 

On every occasion, when the Queen had to speak in public, she used themost appropriate and elegant language, notwithstanding the difficulty aforeigner might be expected to experience. She answered all addressesherself, a custom which she learned at the Court of Maria Theresa. ThePrincesses of the House of Bourbon had long ceased to take the trouble ofspeaking in such cases. Madame Addlaide blamed the Queen for not doing asthey did, assuring her that it was quite sufficient to mutter a few wordsthat might sound like an answer, while the addressers, occupied with whatthey had themselves been saying, would always take it for granted that aproper answer had been returned. The Queen saw that idleness alonedictated such a proceeding, and that as the practice even of muttering afew words showed the necessity of answering in some way, it must be moreproper to reply simply but clearly, and in the best style possible. Sometimes indeed, when apprised of the subject of the address, she wouldwrite down her answer in the morning, not to learn it by heart, but inorder to settle the ideas or sentiments she wished to introduce. 

The influence of the Comtesse de Polignac increased daily; and her friendsavailed themselves of it to effect changes in the Ministry. The dismissalof M. De Montbarrey, a man without talents or character, was generallyapproved of. It was rightly attributed to the Queen. He had been placedin administration by M. De Maurepas, and maintained by his aged wife;both, of course, became more inveterate than ever against the Queen andthe Polignac circle. 

The appointment of M. De Segur to the place of Minister of War, and of M. De Castries to that of Minister of Marine, were wholly the work of thatcircle. The Queen dreaded making ministers; her favourite often wept whenthe men of her circle compelled her to interfere. Men blame women formeddling in business, and yet in courts it is continually the menthemselves who make use of the influence of the women in matters withwhich the latter ought to have nothing to do. 

When M. De Segur was presented to the Queen on his new appointment, shesaid to me, "You have just seen a minister of my making. I am very glad, so far as regards the King's service, that he is appointed, for I thinkthe selection a very good one; but I almost regret the part I have takenin it. I take a responsibility upon myself. I was fortunate in beingfree from any; and in order to relieve myself from this as much aspossible I have just promised M. De Segur, and that upon my word ofhonour, not to back any petition, nor to hinder any of his operations bysolicitations on behalf of my proteges. "

During the first administration of M. Necker, whose ambition had not thendrawn him into schemes repugnant to his better judgment, and whose viewsappeared to the Queen to be very judicious, she indulged in hopes of therestoration of the finances. Knowing that M. De Maurepas wished to driveM. Necker to resign, she urged him to have patience until the death of anold man whom the King kept about him from a fondness for his first choice, and out of respect for his advanced age. She even went so far as to tellhim that M. De Maurepas was always ill, and that his end could not be verydistant. M. Necker would not wait for that event. The Queen's predictionwas fulfilled. M. De Maurepas ended his days immediately after a journeyto Fontainebleau in 1781. 

M. Necker had retired. He had been exasperated by a piece of treachery inthe old minister, for which he could not forgive him. I knew something ofthis intrigue at the time; it has since been fully explained to me byMadame la Marechale de Beauvau. M. Necker saw that his credit at Courtwas declining, and fearing lest that circumstance should injure hisfinancial operations, he requested the King to grant him some favour whichmight show the public that he had not lost the confidence of hissovereign. He concluded his letter by pointing out five requests--such anoffice, or such a mark of distinction, or such a badge of honour, and soon, and handed it to M. De Maurepas. The or's were changed into and's;and the King was displeased at M. Necker's ambition, and the assurancewith which he displayed it. Madame la Marechale de Beauvau assured methat the Marechal de Castries saw the minute of M. Necker's letter, andthat he likewise saw the altered copy. 

The interest which the Queen took in M. Necker died away during hisretirement, and at last changed into strong prejudice against him. Hewrote too much about the measures he would have pursued, and the benefitsthat would have resulted to the State from them. The ministers whosucceeded him thought their operations embarrassed by the care that M. Necker and his partisans incessantly took to occupy the public with hisplans; his friends were too ardent. The Queen discerned a party spirit inthese combinations, and sided wholly with his enemies. 

After those inefficient comptrollers-general, Messieurs Joly de Fleury andd'Ormesson, it became necessary to resort to a man of more acknowledgedtalent, and the Queen's friends, at that time combining with the Comted'Artois and with M. De Vergennes, got M. De Calonne appointed. The Queenwas highly displeased, and her close intimacy with the Duchesse dePolignac began to suffer for this. 

Her Majesty, continuing to converse with me upon the difficulties she hadmet with in private life, told me that ambitious men without meritsometimes found means to gain their ends by dint of importunity, and thatshe had to blame herself for having procured M. D'Adhemar's appointment tothe London embassy, merely because he teased her into it at the Duchess'shouse. She added, however, that it was at a time of perfect peace withthe English; that the Ministry knew the inefficiency of M. D'Adhemar aswell as she did, and that he could do neither harm nor good. 

Often in conversations of unreserved frankness the Queen owned that shehad purchased rather dearly a piece of experience which would make hercarefully watch over the conduct of her daughters-in-law, and that shewould be particularly scrupulous about the qualifications of the ladieswho might attend them; that no consideration of rank or favour should biasher in so important a choice. She attributed several of her youthfulmistakes to a lady of great levity, whom she found in her palace on herarrival in France. She also determined to forbid the Princesses comingunder her control the practice of singing with professors, and said, candidly, and with as much severity as her slanderers could have done, "Iought to have heard Garat sing, and never to have sung duets with him. "

The indiscreet zeal of Monsieur Augeard contributed to the public beliefthat the Queen disposed of all the offices of finance. He had, withoutany authority for doing so, required the committee of fermiers-general toinform him of all vacancies, assuring them that they would be meeting thewishes of the Queen. The members complied, but not without murmuring. When the Queen became aware of what her secretary had done, she highlydisapproved of it, caused her resentment to be made known to thefermiers-general, and abstained from asking for appointments, --making onlyone request of the kind, as a marriage portion for one of her attendants, a young woman of good family. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Queen did not sufficiently conceal the dissatisfaction she felt athaving been unable to prevent the appointment of M. De Calonne; she evenone day went so far as to say at the Duchess's, in the midst of thepartisans and protectors of that minister, that the finances of Francepassed alternately from the hands of an honest man without talent intothose of a skilful knave. M. De Calonne was thus far from acting inconcert with the Queen all the time that he continued in office; and, while dull verses were circulated about Paris describing the Queen and herfavourite dipping at pleasure into the coffers of the comptroller-general, the Queen was avoiding all communication with him. 

During the long and severe winter of 1783-84 the King gave three millionsof livres for the relief of the indigent. M. De Calonne, who felt thenecessity of making advances to the Queen, caught at this opportunity ofshowing her respect and devotion. He offered to place in her hands onemillion of the three, to be distributed in her name and under herdirection. His proposal was rejected; the Queen answered that the charityought to be wholly distributed in the King's name, and that she would thisyear debar herself of even the slightest enjoyments, in order tocontribute all her savings to the relief of the unfortunate. 

The moment M. De Calonne left the closet the Queen sent for me:"Congratulate me, my dear, " said she; "I have just escaped a snare, or atleast a matter which eventually might have caused me much regret. " Sherelated the conversation which had taken place word for word to me, adding, "That man will complete the ruin of the national finances. It issaid that I placed him in his situation. The people are made to believethat I am extravagant; yet I have refused to suffer a sum of money fromthe royal treasury, although destined for the most laudable purpose, evento pass through my hands. "

The Queen, making monthly retrenchments from the expenditure of her privypurse, and not having spent the gifts customary at the period of herconfinement, was in possession of from five to six hundred thousandfrancs, her own savings. She made use of from two to three hundredthousand francs of this, which her first women sent to M. Lenoir, to thecures of Paris and Versailles, and to the Soeurs Hospitalieres, and sodistributed them among families in need. 

Desirous to implant in the breast of her daughter not only a desire tosuccour the unfortunate, but those qualities necessary for the duedischarge of that duty, the Queen incessantly talked to her, though shewas yet very young, about the sufferings of the poor during a season soinclement. The Princess already had a sum of from eight to ten thousandfrancs for charitable purposes, and the Queen made her distribute part ofit herself. 

Wishing to give her children yet another lesson of beneficence, shedesired me on New Year's eve to get from Paris, as in other years, all thefashionable playthings, and have them spread out in her closet. Thentaking her children by the hand, she showed them all the dolls andmechanical toys which were ranged there, and told them that she hadintended to give them some handsome New Year's gifts, but that the coldmade the poor so wretched that all her money was spent in blankets andclothes to protect them from the rigour of the season, and in supplyingthem with bread; so that this year they would only have the pleasure oflooking at the new playthings. When she returned with her children intoher sitting-room, she said there was still an unavoidable expense to beincurred; that assuredly many mothers would at that season think as shedid, --that the toyman must lose by it; and therefore she gave him fiftyLouis to repay him for the cost of his journey, and console him for havingsold nothing. 

The purchase of St. Cloud, a matter very simple in itself, had, on accountof the prevailing spirit, unfavourable consequences to the Queen. 

The palace of Versailles, pulled to pieces in the interior by a variety ofnew arrangements, and mutilated in point of uniformity by the removal ofthe ambassadors' staircase, and of the peristyle of columns placed at theend of the marble court, was equally in want of substantial and ornamentalrepair. The King therefore desired M. Micque to lay before him severalplans for the repairs of the palace. He consulted me on certainarrangements analogous to some of those adopted in the Queen'sestablishment, and in my presence asked M. Micque how much money would bewanted for the execution of the whole work, and how many years he would bein completing it. I forget how many millions were mentioned: M. Micquereplied that six years would be sufficient time if the Treasury made thenecessary periodical advances without any delay. "And how many yearsshall you require, " said the King, "if the advances are not punctuallymade?"--"Ten, Sire, " replied the architect. "We must then reckon upon tenyears, " said his Majesty, "and put off this great undertaking until theyear 1790; it will occupy the rest of the century. "

The King afterwards talked of the depreciation of property which tookplace at Versailles whilst the Regent removed the Court of Louis XV. Tothe Tuileries, and said that he must consider how to prevent thatinconvenience; it was the desire to do this that promoted the purchase ofSt. Cloud. The Queen first thought of it one day when she was riding outwith the Duchesse de Polignac and the Comtesse Diane; she mentioned it tothe King, who was much pleased with the thought, --the purchase confirminghim in the intention, which he had entertained for ten years, of quittingVersailles. 

The King determined that the ministers, public officers, pages, and aconsiderable part of his stabling should remain at Versailles. Messieursde Breteuil and de Calonne were instructed to treat with the Duc d'Orleansfor the purchase of St. Cloud; at first they hoped to be able to concludethe business by a mere exchange. The value of the Chateau de Choisy, dela Muette, and a forest was equivalent to the sum demanded by the House ofOrleans; and in the exchange which the Queen expected she only saw asaving to be made instead of an increase of expense. By this arrangementthe government of Choisy, in the hands of the Duc de Coigny, and that ofLa Muette, in the hands of the Marechal de Soubise, would be suppressed. At the same time the two concierges, and all the servants employed inthese two royal houses, would be reduced; but while the treaty was goingforward Messieurs de Breteuil and de Calonne gave up the point ofexchange, and some millions in cash were substituted for Choisy and LaMuette. 

The Queen advised the King to give her St. Cloud, as a means of avoidingthe establishment of a governor; her plan being to have merely a conciergethere, by which means the governor's expenses would be saved. The Kingagreed, and St. Cloud was purchased for the Queen. She provided the sameliveries for the porters at the gates and servants at the chateau as forthose at Trianon. The concierge at the latter place had put up someregulations for the household, headed, "By order of the Queen. " The samething was done at St. Cloud. The Queen's livery at the door of a palacewhere it was expected none but that of the King would be seen, and thewords "By order of the Queen" at the head of the printed papers pastednear the iron gates, caused a great sensation, and produced a veryunfortunate effect, not only among the common people, but also amongpersons of a superior class. They saw in it an attack upon the customs ofmonarchy, and customs are nearly equal to laws. The Queen heard of this, but she thought that her dignity would be compromised if she made anychange in the form of these regulations, though they might have beenaltogether superseded without inconvenience. "My name is not out ofplace, " said she, "in gardens belonging to myself; I may give orders therewithout infringing on the rights of the State. " This was her only answerto the representations which a few faithful servants ventured to make onthe subject. The discontent of the Parisians on this occasion probablyinduced M. D'Espremenil, upon the first troubles about the Parliament, tosay that it was impolitic and immoral to see palaces belonging to a Queenof France. 

[The Queen never forgot this affront of M. D'Espremenil's; she said thatas it was offered at a time when social order had not yet been disturbed, she had felt the severest mortification at it. Shortly before thedownfall of the throne M. Espremenil, having openly espoused the King'sside, was insulted in the gardens of the Tuileries by the Jacobins, and soill-treated that he was carried home very ill. Somebody recommended theQueen, on account of the royalist principles he then professed, to sendand inquire for him. She replied that she was truly grieved at what hadhappened to M. D'Espremenil, but that mere policy should never induce herto show any particular solicitude about the man who had been the first tomake so insulting an attack upon her character. --MADAME CAMPAN]

The Queen was very much dissatisfied with the manner in which M. DeCalonne had managed this matter. The Abbe de Vermond, the most active andpersevering of that minister's enemies, saw with delight that theexpedients of those from whom alone new resources might be expected weregradually becoming exhausted, because the period when the Archbishop ofToulouse would be placed over the finances was thereby hastened. 

The royal navy had resumed an imposing attitude during the war for theindependence of America; glorious peace with England had compensated forthe former attacks of our enemies upon the fame of France; and the thronewas surrounded by numerous heirs. The sole ground of uneasiness was inthe finances, but that uneasiness related only to the manner in which theywere administered. In a word, France felt confident in its own strengthand resources, when two events, which seem scarcely worthy of a place inhistory, but which have, nevertheless, an important one in that of theFrench Revolution, introduced a spirit of ridicule and contempt, not onlyagainst the highest ranks, but even against the most august personages. Iallude to a comedy and a great swindling transaction. 

Beaumarchais had long possessed a reputation in certain circles in Parisfor his wit and musical talents, and at the theatres for dramas more orless indifferent, when his "Barbier de Seville" procured him a higherposition among dramatic writers. His "Memoirs" against M. Goesman hadamused Paris by the ridicule they threw upon a Parliament which wasdisliked; and his admission to an intimacy with M. De Maurepas procuredhim a degree of influence over important affairs. He then becameambitious of influencing public opinion by a kind of drama, in whichestablished manners and customs should be held up to popular derision andthe ridicule of the new philosophers. After several years of prosperitythe minds of the French had become more generally critical; and whenBeaumarchais had finished his monstrous but diverting "Mariage de Figaro, "all people of any consequence were eager for the gratification of hearingit read, the censors having decided that it should not be performed. These readings of "Figaro" grew so numerous that people were daily heardto say, "I have been (or I am going to be) at the reading ofBeaumarchais's play. " The desire to see it performed became universal; anexpression that he had the art to use compelled, as it were, theapprobation of the nobility, or of persons in power, who aimed at rankingamong the magnanimous; he made his "Figaro" say that "none but littleminds dreaded little books. " The Baron de Breteuil, and all the men ofMadame de Polignac's circle, entered the lists as the warmest protectorsof the comedy. Solicitations to the King became so pressing that hisMajesty determined to judge for himself of a work which so much engrossedpublic attention, and desired me to ask M. Le Noir, lieutenant of police, for the manuscript of the "Mariage de Figaro. " One morning I received anote from the Queen ordering me to be with her at three o'clock, and notto come without having dined, for she should detain me some time. When Igot to the Queen's inner closet I found her alone with the King; a chairand a small table were ready placed opposite to them, and upon the tablelay an enormous manuscript in several books. The King said to me, "Thereis Beaumarchais's comedy; you must read it to us. You will find severalparts troublesome on account of the erasures and references. I havealready run it over, but I wish the Queen to be acquainted with the work. You will not mention this reading to any one. "

I began. The King frequently interrupted me by praise or censure, whichwas always just. He frequently exclaimed, "That's in bad taste; this mancontinually brings the Italian concetti on the stage. " At that soliloquyof Figaro in which he attacks various points of government, and especiallyat the tirade against State prisons, the King rose up and said, indignantly:

"That's detestable; that shall never be played; the Bastille must bedestroyed before the license to act this play can be any other than an actof the most dangerous inconsistency. This man scoffs at everything thatshould be respected in a government. "

"It will not be played, then?" said the Queen. 

"No, certainly, " replied Louis XVI. ; "you may rely upon that. "

Still it was constantly reported that "Figaro" was about to be performed;there were even wagers laid upon the subject; I never should have laid anymyself, fancying that I was better informed as to the probability thananybody else; if I had, however, I should have been completely deceived. The protectors of Beaumarchais, feeling certain that they would succeed intheir scheme of making his work public in spite of the King's prohibition, distributed the parts in the "Mariage de Figaro" among the actors of theTheatre Francais. Beaumarchais had made them enter into the spirit of hischaracters, and they determined to enjoy at least one performance of thisso-called chef d'oeuvre. The first gentlemen of the chamber agreed thatM. De la Ferte should lend the theatre of the Hotel des Menus Plaisirs, atParis, which was used for rehearsals of the opera; tickets weredistributed to a vast number of leaders of society, and the day for theperformance was fixed. The King heard of all this only on the verymorning, and signed a 'lettre de cachet, '--[A 'lettre de cachet' was anywritten order proceeding from the King. The term was not confined merelyto orders for arrest. ]--which prohibited the performance. When themessenger who brought the order arrived, he found a part of the theatrealready filled with spectators, and the streets leading to the Hotel desMenus Plaisirs filled with carriages; the piece was not performed. Thisprohibition of the King's was looked upon as an attack on public liberty. 

The disappointment produced such discontent that the words oppression andtyranny were uttered with no less passion and bitterness at that time thanduring the days which immediately preceded the downfall of the throne. Beaumarchais was so far put off his guard by rage as to exclaim, "Well, gentlemen, he won't suffer it to be played here; but I swear it shall beplayed, --perhaps in the very choir of Notre-Dame!" There was somethingprophetic in these words. It was generally insinuated shortly afterwardsthat Beaumarchais had determined to suppress all those parts of his workwhich could be obnoxious to the Government; and on pretence of judging ofthe sacrifices made by the author, M. De Vaudreuil obtained permission tohave this far-famed "Mariage de Figaro" performed at his country house. M. Campan was asked there; he had frequently heard the work read, and didnot now find the alterations that had been announced; this he observed toseveral persons belonging to the Court, who maintained that the author hadmade all the sacrifices required. M. Campan was so astonished at thesepersistent assertions of an obvious falsehood that he replied by aquotation from Beaumarchais himself, and assuming the tone of Basilio inthe "Barbier de Seville, " he said, "Faith, gentlemen, I don't know who isdeceived here; everybody is in the secret. " They then came to the point, and begged him to tell the Queen positively that all which had beenpronounced reprehensible in M. De Beaumarchais's play had been cut out. My father-in-law contented himself with replying that his situation atCourt would not allow of his giving an opinion unless the Queen shouldfirst speak of the piece to him. The Queen said nothing to him about thematter. Shortly, afterwards permission to perform this play was at lengthobtained. The Queen thought the people of Paris would be finely trickedwhen they saw merely an ill-conceived piece, devoid of interest, as itmust appear when deprived of its Satire. 

["The King, " says Grimm, "made sure that the public would judgeunfavourably of the work. " He said to the Marquis de Montesquiou, who wasgoing to see the first representation, 'Well, what do you augur of itssuccess?'--'Sire, I hope the piece will fail. '--'And so do I, ' replied theKing. 

"There is something still more ridiculous than my piece, " saidBeaumarchais himself; "that is, its success. " Mademoiselle Arnouldforesaw it the first day, and exclaimed, "It is a production that willfail fifty nights successively. " There was as crowded an audience on theseventy-second night as on the first. The following is extracted fromGrimm's 'Correspondence. '

"Answer of M. De Beaumarchais to -----, who requested the use of hisprivate box for some ladies desirous of seeing 'Figaro' without beingthemselves seen. 

"I have no respect for women who indulge themselves in seeing any playwhich they think indecorous, provided they can do so in secret. I lendmyself to no such acts. I have given my piece to the public, to amuse, and not to instruct, not to give any compounding prudes the pleasure ofgoing to admire it in a private box, and balancing their account withconscience by censuring it in company. To indulge in the pleasure of viceand assume the credit of virtue is the hypocrisy of the age. My piece isnot of a doubtful nature; it must be patronised in good earnest, oravoided altogether; therefore, with all respect to you, I shall keep mybox. " This letter was circulated all over Paris for a week. ]

Under the persuasion that there was not a passage left capable ofmalicious or dangerous application, Monsieur attended the firstperformance in a public box. The mad enthusiasm of the public in favourof the piece and Monsieur's just displeasure are well known. The authorwas sent to prison soon afterwards, though his work was extolled to theskies, and though the Court durst not suspend its performance. 

The Queen testified her displeasure against all who had assisted theauthor of the "Mariage de Figaro" to deceive the King into giving hisconsent that it should be represented. Her reproaches were moreparticularly directed against M. De Vaudreuil for having had it performedat his house. The violent and domineering disposition of her favourite'sfriend at last became disagreeable to her. 

One evening, on the Queen's return from the Duchess's, she desired her'valet de chambre' to bring her billiard cue into her closet, and orderedme to open the box that contained it. I took out the cue, broken in two. It was of ivory, and formed of one single elephant's tooth; the butt wasof gold and very tastefully wrought. "There, " said she, "that is the wayM. De Vaudreuil has treated a thing I valued highly. I had laid it uponthe couch while I was talking to the Duchess in the salon; he had theassurance to make use of it, and in a fit of passion about a blocked ball, he struck the cue so violently against the table that he broke it in two. The noise brought me back into the billiard-room; I did not say a word tohim, but my looks showed him how angry I was. He is the more provoked atthe accident, as he aspires to the post of Governor to the Dauphin. Inever thought of him for the place. It is quite enough to have consultedmy heart only in the choice of a governess; and I will not suffer that ofa Governor to the Dauphin to be at all affected by the influence of myfriends. I should be responsible for it to the nation. The poor man doesnot know that my determination is taken; for I have never expressed it tothe Duchess. Therefore, judge of the sort of an evening he must havepassed!"

CHAPTER XIII. 

Shortly after the public mind had been thrown into agitation by theperformance of the "Mariage de Figaro, " an obscure plot, contrived byswindlers, and matured in a corrupted society, attacked the Queen'scharacter in a vital point and assailed the majesty of the throne. 

I am about to speak of the notorious affair of the necklace purchased, asit was said, for the Queen by Cardinal de Rohan. I will narrate all thathas come to my knowledge relating to this business; the most minuteparticulars will prove how little reason the Queen had to apprehend theblow by which she was threatened, and which must be attributed to afatality that human prudence could not have foreseen, but from which, tosay the truth, she might have extricated herself with more skill. 

I have already said that in 1774 the Queen purchased jewels of Boehmer tothe value of three hundred and sixty thousand franca, that she paid forthem herself out of her own private funds, and that it required severalyears to enable her to complete the payment. The King afterwardspresented her with a set of rubies and diamonds of a fine water, andsubsequently with a pair of bracelets worth two hundred thousand francs. The Queen, after having her diamonds reset in new patterns, told Boehmerthat she found her jewel case rich enough, and was not desirous of makingany addition to it. 

[Except on those days when the assemblies at Court were particularlyattended, such as the 1st of January and the 2d of February, devoted tothe procession of the Order of the Holy Ghost, and on the festivals ofEaster, Whitsuntide, and Christmas, the Queen no longer wore any dressesbut muslin or white Florentine taffety. Her head-dress was merely a hat;the plainest were preferred; and her diamonds never quitted their casketsbut for the dresses of ceremony, confined to the days I have mentioned. Before the Queen was five and twenty she began to apprehend that she mightbe induced to make too frequent use of flowers and of ornaments, which atthat time were exclusively reserved for youth. Madame Bertin havingbrought a wreath for the head and neck, composed of roses, the Queenfeared that the brightness of the flowers might be disadvantageous to hercomplexion. She was unquestionably too severe upon herself, her beautyhaving as yet experienced no alteration; it is easy to conceive theconcert of praise and compliment that replied to the doubt she hadexpressed. The Queen, approaching me, said, "I charge you, from this day, to give me notice when flowers shall cease to become me. "--"I shall do nosuch thing, " I replied, immediately; "I have not read 'Gil Bias' withoutprofiting in some degree from it, and I find your Majesty's order too muchlike that given him by the Archbishop of Granada, to warn him of themoment when he should begin to fall off in the composition of hishomilies. "--"Go, " said the Queen; "You are less sincere than Gil Blas; andI world have been more amenable than the Archbishop. "--MADAME CAMPAN. ]

Still, this jeweller busied himself for some years in forming a collectionof the finest diamonds circulating in the trade, in order to compose anecklace of several rows, which he hoped to induce her Majesty topurchase; he brought it to M. Campan, requesting him to mention it to theQueen, that she might ask to see it, and thus be induced to wish topossess it. This M. Campan refused to do, telling him that he should bestepping out of the line of his duty were he to propose to the Queen anexpense of sixteen hundred thousand francs, and that he believed neitherthe lady of honour nor the tirewoman would take upon herself to executesuch a commission. Boehmer persuaded the King's first gentleman for theyear to show this superb necklace to his Majesty, who admired it so muchthat he himself wished to see the Queen adorned with it, and sent the caseto her; but she assured him she should much regret incurring so great anexpense for such an article, that she had already very beautiful diamonds, that jewels of that description were now worn at Court not more than fouror five times a year, that the necklace must be returned, and that themoney would be much better employed in building a man-of-war. 

[Messieurs Boehmer and Bassange, jewellers to the Crown, were proprietorsof a superb diamond necklace, which had, as it was said, been intended forthe Comtesse du Barry. Being under the necessity of selling it, theyoffered it, during the last war, to the king and Queen; but theirMajesties made the following prudent answer: "We stand more in need ofships than of jewels. "--"Secret Correspondence of the Court of LouisXVI. "]

Boehmer, in sad tribulation at finding his expectations delusive, endeavoured for some time, it is said, to dispose of his necklace amongthe various Courts of Europe. 

A year after his fruitless attempts, Boehmer again caused his diamondnecklace to be offered to the King, proposing that it should be paid forpartly by instalments, and partly in life annuities; this proposal wasrepresented as highly advantageous, and the King, in my presence, mentioned the matter once more to the Queen. I remember the Queen toldhim that, if the bargain really was not bad, he might make it, and keepthe necklace until the marriage of one of his children; but that, for herpart, she would never wear it, being unwilling that the world should haveto reproach her with having coveted so expensive an article. The Kingreplied that their children were too young to justify such an expense, which would be greatly increased by the number of years the diamonds wouldremain useless, and that he would finally decline the offer. Boehmercomplained to everybody of his misfortune, and all reasonable peopleblamed him for having collected diamonds to so considerable an amountwithout any positive order for them. This man had purchased the office ofjeweller to the Crown, which gave him some rights of entry at Court. After several months spent in ineffectual attempts to carry his point, andin idle complaints, he obtained an audience of the Queen, who had with herthe young Princess, her daughter; her Majesty did not know for whatpurpose Boehmer sought this audience, and had not the slightest idea thatit was to speak to her again about an article twice refused by herself andthe King. 

Boehmer threw himself upon his knees, clasped his hands, burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Madame, I am ruined and disgraced if you do not purchasemy necklace. I cannot outlive so many misfortunes. When I go hence Ishall throw myself into the river. "

"Rise, Boehmer, " said the Queen, in a tone sufficiently severe to recallhim to himself; "I do not like these rhapsodies; honest men have nooccasion to fall on their knees to make their requests. If you were todestroy yourself I should regret you as a madman in whom I had taken aninterest, but I should not be in any way responsible for that misfortune. Not only have I never ordered the article which causes your presentdespair, but whenever you have talked to me about fine collections ofjewels I have told you that I should not add four diamonds to those whichI already possessed. I told you myself that I declined taking thenecklace; the King wished to give it to me, but I refused him also; nevermention it to me again. Divide it and try to sell it piecemeal, and donot drown yourself. I am very angry with you for acting this scene ofdespair in my presence and before this child. Let me never see you behavethus again. Go. " Baehmer withdrew, overwhelmed with confusion, andnothing further was then heard of him. 

When Madame Sophie was born the Queen told me M. De Saint-James, a richfinancier, had apprised her that Boehmer was still intent upon the sale ofhis necklace, and that she ought, for her own satisfaction, to endeavourto learn what the man had done with it; she desired me the first time Ishould meet him to speak to him about it, as if from the interest I tookin his welfare. I spoke to him about his necklace, and he told me he hadbeen very fortunate, having sold it at Constantinople for the favouritesultana. I communicated this answer to the Queen, who was delighted withit, but could not comprehend how the Sultan came to purchase his diamondsin Paris. 

The Queen long avoided seeing Boehmer, being fearful of his rashcharacter; and her valet de chambre, who had the care of her jewels, madethe necessary repairs to her ornaments unassisted. On the baptism of theDuc d'Angouleme, in 1785, the King gave him a diamond epaulet and buckles, and directed Baehmer to deliver them to the Queen. Boehmer presented themon her return from mass, and at the same time gave into her hands a letterin the form of a petition. In this paper he told the Queen that he washappy to see her "in possession of the finest diamonds known in Europe, "and entreated her not to forget him. The Queen read Boehmer's address toher aloud, and saw nothing in it but a proof of mental aberration; shelighted the paper at a wax taper standing near her, as she had someletters to seal, saying, "It is not worth keeping. " She afterwards muchregretted the loss of this enigmatical memorial. After having burnt thepaper, her Majesty said to me, "That man is born to be my torment; he hasalways some mad scheme in his head; remember, the first time you see him, to tell him that I do not like diamonds now, and that I will buy no moreso long as I live; that if I had any money to spare I would rather add tomy property at St. Cloud by the purchase of the land surrounding it; now, mind you enter into all these particulars and impress them well upon him. "I asked her whether she wished me to send for him; she replied in thenegative, adding that it would be sufficient to avail myself of the firstopportunity afforded by meeting him; and that the slightest advancetowards such a man would be misplaced. 

On the 1st of August I left Versailles for my country house at Crespy; onthe 3d came Boehmer, extremely uneasy at not having received any answerfrom the Queen, to ask me whether I had any commission from her to him; Ireplied that she had entrusted me with none; that she had no commands forhim, and I faithfully repeated all she had desired me to say to him. 

"But, " said Boehmer, "the answer to the letter I presented to her, --towhom must I apply for that?"

"To nobody, " answered I; "her Majesty burnt your memorial without evencomprehending its meaning. "

"Ah! madame, " exclaimed he, "that is impossible; the Queen knows that shehas money to pay me!"

"Money, M. Boehmer? Your last accounts against the Queen were dischargedlong ago. "

"Madame, you are not in the secret. A man who is ruined for want ofpayment of fifteen hundred thousand francs cannot be said to besatisfied. "

"Have you lost your senses?" said I. "For what can the Queen owe you soextravagant a sum?"

"For my necklace, madame, " replied Boehmer, coolly. 

"What!" I exclaimed, "that necklace again, which you have teased the Queenabout so many years! Did you not tell me you had sold it atConstantinople?"

"The Queen desired me to give that answer to all who should speak to me onthe subject, " said the wretched dupe. He then told me that the Queenwished to have the necklace, and had had it purchased for her byMonseigneur, the Cardinal de Rohan. 

"You are deceived, " I exclaimed; "the Queen has not once spoken to theCardinal since his return from Vienna; there is not a man at her Courtless favourably looked upon. "

"You are deceived yourself, madame, " said Boehmer; "she sees him so muchin private that it was to his Eminence she gave thirty thousand francs, which were paid me as an instalment; she took them, in his presence, outof the little secretaire of Sevres porcelain next the fireplace in herboudoir. "

"And the Cardinal told you all this?"

"Yes, madame, himself. "

"What a detestable plot!" cried I. 

"Indeed, to say the truth, madame, I begin to be much alarmed, for hisEminence assured me that the Queen would wear the necklace on Whit-Sunday, but I did not see it upon her, and it was that which induced me to writeto her Majesty. "

He then asked me what he ought to do. I advised him to go on toVersailles, instead of returning to Paris, whence he had just arrived; toobtain an immediate audience from the Baron de Breteuil, who, as head ofthe King's household, was the minister of the department to which Boehmerbelonged, and to be circumspect; and I added that he appeared to meextremely culpable, --not as a diamond merchant, but because being a swornofficer it was unpardonable of him to have acted without the direct ordersof the King, the Queen, or the Minister. He answered, that he had notacted without direct orders; that he had in his possession all the notessigned by the Queen, and that he had even been obliged to show them toseveral bankers in order to induce them to extend the time for hispayments. I urged his departure for Versailles, and he assured me hewould go there immediately. Instead of following my advice, he went tothe Cardinal, and it was of this visit of Boehmer's that his Eminence madea memorandum, found in a drawer overlooked by the Abbe Georgel when heburnt, by order of the Cardinal, all the papers which the latter had atParis. The memorandum was thus worded: "On this day, 3d August, Boehmerwent to Madame Campan's country house, and she told him that the Queen hadnever had his necklace, and that he had been deceived. "

When Boehmer was gone, I wanted to follow him, and go to the Queen; myfather-in-law prevented me, and ordered me to leave the minister toelucidate such an important affair, observing that it was an infernalplot; that I had given Boehmer the best advice, and had nothing more to dowith the business. Boehmer never said one word to me about the woman DeLamotte, and her name was mentioned for the first time by the Cardinal inhis answers to the interrogatories put to him before the King. Afterseeing the Cardinal, Boehmer went to Trianon, and sent a message to theQueen, purporting that I had advised him to come and speak to her. Hisvery words were repeated to her Majesty, who said, "He is mad; I havenothing to say to him, and will not see him. " Two or three daysafterwards the Queen sent for me to Petit Trianon, to rehearse with me thepart of Rosina, which she was to perform in the "Barbier de Seville. " Iwas alone with her, sitting upon her couch; no mention was made ofanything but the part. After we had spent an hour in the rehearsal, herMajesty asked me why I had sent Boehmer to her; saying he had been in myname to speak to her, and that she would not see him. It was in thismanner I learnt that he had not followed my advice in the slightestdegree. The change of my countenance, when I heard the man's name, wasvery perceptible; the Queen perceived it, and questioned me. I entreatedher to see him, and assured her it was of the utmost importance for herpeace of mind; that there was a plot going on, of which she was not aware;and that it was a serious one, since engagements signed by herself wereshown about to people who had lent Boehmer money. Her surprise andvexation were great. She desired me to remain at Trianon, and sent off acourier to Paris, ordering Boehmer to come to her upon some pretext whichhas escaped my recollection. He came next morning; in fact it was the dayon which the play was performed, and that was the last amusement the Queenallowed herself at that retreat. 

The Queen made him enter her closet, and asked him by what fatality it wasthat she was still doomed to hear of his foolish pretence of selling heran article which she had steadily refused for several years. He repliedthat he was compelled, being unable to pacify his creditors any longer. "What are your creditors to me?" said her Majesty. Boehmer thenregularly related to her all that he had been made to believe had passedbetween the Queen and himself through the intervention of the Cardinal. She was equally incensed and surprised at each thing she heard. In vaindid she speak; the jeweller, equally importunate and dangerous, repeatedincessantly, "Madame, there is no longer time for feigning; condescend toconfess that you have my necklace, and let some assistance be given to me, or my bankruptcy will soon bring the whole to light. "

It is easy to imagine how the Queen must have suffered. On Boehmer'sgoing away, I found her in an alarming condition; the idea that any onecould have believed that such a man as the Cardinal possessed her fullconfidence; that she should have employed him to deal with a tradesmanwithout the King's knowledge, for a thing which she had refused to acceptfrom the King himself, drove her to desperation. She sent first for theAbbe de Vermond, and then for the Baron de Breteuil. Their hatred andcontempt for the Cardinal made them too easily forget that the lowestfaults do not prevent the higher orders of the empire from being defendedby those to whom they have the honour to belong; that a Rohan, a Prince ofthe Church, however culpable he might be, would be sure to have aconsiderable party which would naturally be joined by all the discontentedpersons of the Court, and all the frondeurs of Paris. They too easilybelieved that he would be stripped of all the advantages of his rank andorder, and given up to the disgrace due to his irregular conduct; theydeceived themselves. 

I saw the Queen after the departure of the Baron and the Abbe; heragitation made me shudder. "Fraud must be unmasked, " said she; "when theRoman purple and the title of Prince cover a mere money-seeker, a cheatwho dares to compromise the wife of his sovereign, France and all Europeshould know it. " It is evident that from that moment the fatal plan wasdecided on. The Queen perceived my alarm; I did not conceal it from her. I knew too well that she had many enemies not to be apprehensive on seeingher attract the attention of the whole world to an intrigue that theywould try to complicate still more. I entreated her to seek the mostprudent and moderate advice. She silenced me by desiring me to makemyself easy, and to rest satisfied that no imprudence would be committed. 

On the following Sunday, the 15th of August, being the Assumption, attwelve o'clock, at the very moment when the Cardinal, dressed in hispontifical garments, was about to proceed to the chapel, he was sent forinto the King's closet, where the Queen then was. 

The King said to him, "You have purchased diamonds of Boehmer?"

"Yes, Sire. "

"What have you done with them?"

"I thought they had been delivered to the Queen. "

"Who commissioned you?"

"A lady, called the Comtesse de Lamotte-Valois, who handed me a letterfrom the Queen; and I thought I was gratifying her Majesty by taking thisbusiness on myself. "

The Queen here interrupted him and said, "How, monsieur, could you believethat I should select you, to whom I have not spoken for eight years, tonegotiate anything for me, and especially through the mediation of a womanwhom I do not even know?"

"I see plainly, " said the Cardinal, "that I have been duped. I will payfor the necklace; my desire to please your Majesty blinded me; I suspectedno trick in the affair, and I am sorry for it. "

He then took out of his pocket-book a letter from the Queen to Madame deLamotte, giving him this commission. The King took it, and, holding ittowards the Cardinal, said:

"This is neither written nor signed by the Queen. How could a Prince ofthe House of Rohan, and a Grand Almoner of France, ever think that theQueen would sign Marie Antoinette de France? Everybody knows that queenssign only by their baptismal names. But, monsieur, " pursued the King, handing him a copy of his letter to Baehmer, "have you ever written such aletter as this?"

Having glanced over it, the Cardinal said, "I do not remember havingwritten it. "

"But what if the original, signed by yourself, were shown to you?"

"If the letter be signed by myself it is genuine. "

He was extremely confused, and repeated several times, "I have beendeceived, Sire; I will pay for the necklace. I ask pardon of yourMajesties. "

"Then explain to me, " resumed the King, "the whole of this enigma. I donot wish to find you guilty; I had rather you would justify yourself. Account for all the manoeuvres with Baehmer, these assurances and theseletters. "

The Cardinal then, turning pale, and leaning against the table, said, "Sire, I am too much confused to answer your Majesty in a way--"

"Compose yourself, Cardinal, and go into my cabinet; you will there findpaper, pens, and ink, --write what you have to say to me. "

The Cardinal went into the King's cabinet, and returned a quarter of anhour afterwards with a document as confused as his verbal answers hadbeen. The King then said, "Withdraw, monsieur. " The Cardinal left theKing's chamber, with the Baron de Breteuil, who gave him in custody to alieutenant of the Body Guard, with orders to take him to his apartment. M. D'Agoult, aide-major of the Body Guard, afterwards took him into custody, and conducted him to his hotel, and thence to the Bastille. But while theCardinal had with him only the young lieutenant of the Body Guard, who wasmuch embarrassed at having such an order to execute, his Eminence met hisheyduc at the door of the Salon of Hercules; he spoke to him in German andthen asked the lieutenant if he could lend him a pencil; the officer gavehim that which he carried about him, and the Cardinal wrote to the AbbeGeorgel, his grand vicar and friend, instantly to burn all Madame deLamotte's correspondence, and all his other letters. 

[The Abbe Georgel thus relates the circumstance: "The Cardinal, at thattrying moment, gave an astonishing proof of his presence of mind;notwithstanding the escort which surrounded him, favoured by the attendantcrowd, he stopped, and stooping down with his face towards the wall, as ifto fasten his buckle, snatched out his pencil and hastily wrote a fewwords upon a scrap of paper placed under his hand in his square red cap. He rose again and proceeded. On entering his house, his people formed alane; he slipped this paper, unperceived, into the hand of a confidentialvalet de chambre, who waited for him at the door of his apartment. " Thisstory is scarcely credible; it is not at the moment of a prisoner'sarrest, when an inquisitive crowd surrounds and watches him, that he canstop and write secret messages. However, the valet de chambre posts offto Paris. He arrives at the palace of the Cardinal between twelve and oneo'clock; and his horse falls dead in the stable. "I was in my apartment, "said the Abbe Georgel, "the valet de chambre entered wildly, with a deadlypaleness on his countenance, and exclaimed, 'All is lost; the Prince isarrested. ' He instantly fell, fainting, and dropped the note of which hewas the bearer. " The portfolio containing the papers which mightcompromise the Cardinal was immediately placed beyond the reach of allsearch. Madame de Lamotte also was foolishly allowed sufficient timeafter she heard of the arrest of the Cardinal to burn all the letters shehad received from him. Assisted by Beugnot, she completed this at threethe same morning that she was: arrested at four. --See "Memoirs of Comte deBeugnot, " vol i. , p. 74. ]

This commission was executed before M. De Crosne, lieutenant of police, had received an order from the Baron de Breteuil to put seals upon theCardinal's papers. The destruction of all his Eminence's correspondence, and particularly that with Madame de Lamotte, threw an impenetrable cloudover the whole affair. 

From that moment all proofs of this intrigue disappeared. Madame deLamotte was apprehended at Bar-sur-Aube; her husband had already gone toEngland. From the beginning of this fatal affair all the proceedings ofthe Court appear to have been prompted by imprudence and want offoresight; the obscurity resulting left free scope for the fables of whichthe voluminous memorials written on one side and the other consisted. TheQueen so little imagined what could have given rise to the intrigue, ofwhich she was about to become the victim, that, at the moment when theKing was interrogating the Cardinal, a terrific idea entered her mind. With that rapidity of thought caused by personal interest and extremeagitation, she fancied that, if a design to ruin her in the eyes of theKing and the French people were the concealed motive of this intrigue, theCardinal would, perhaps, affirm that she had the necklace; that he hadbeen honoured with her confidence for this purchase, made without theKing's knowledge; and point out some secret place in her apartment, wherehe might have got some villain to hide it. Want of money and the meanestswindling were the sole motives for this criminal affair. The necklacehad already been taken to pieces and sold, partly in London, partly inHolland, and the rest in Paris. 

The moment the Cardinal's arrest was known a universal clamour arose. Every memorial that appeared during the trial increased the outcry. Onthis occasion the clergy took that course which a little wisdom and theleast knowledge of the spirit of such a body ought to have foreseen. TheRohans and the House of Conde, as well as the clergy, made theircomplaints heard everywhere. The King consented to having a legaljudgment, and early in September he addressed letters-patent to theParliament, in which he said that he was "filled with the most justindignation on seeing the means which, by the confession of his Eminencethe Cardinal, had been employed in order to inculpate his most dear spouseand companion. "

Fatal moment! in which the Queen found herself, in consequence of thishighly impolitic step, on trial with a subject, who ought to have beendealt with by the power of the King alone. The Princes and Princesses ofthe House of Conde, and of the Houses of Rohan, Soubise, and Guemenee, puton mourning, and were seen ranged in the way of the members of the GrandChamber to salute them as they proceeded to the palace, on the days of theCardinal's trial; and Princes of the blood openly canvassed against theQueen of France. 

The Pope wished to claim, on behalf of the Cardinal de Rohan, the rightbelonging to his ecclesiastical rank, and demanded that he should bejudged at Rome. The Cardinal de Bernis, ambassador from France to hisHoliness, formerly Minister for Foreign Affairs, blending the wisdom of anold diplomatist with the principles of a Prince of the Church, wished thatthis scandalous affair should be hushed up. The King's aunts, who were onvery intimate terms with the ambassador, adopted his opinion, and theconduct of the King and Queen was equally and loudly censured in theapartments of Versailles and in the hotels and coffee-houses of Paris. 

Madame, the King's sister-in-law, had been the sole protectress of DeLamotte, and had confined her patronage to granting her a pension oftwelve to fifteen hundred francs. Her brother was in the navy, but theMarquis de Chabert, to whom he had been recommended, could never train agood officer. The Queen in vain endeavoured to call to mind the featuresof this person, of whom she had often heard as an intriguing woman, whocame frequently on Sundays to the gallery of Versailles. At the time whenall France was engrossed by the persecution against the Cardinal, theportrait of the Comtesse de Lamotte Valois was publicly sold. HerMajesty desired me one day, when I was going to Paris, to buy her theengraving, which was said to be a tolerable likeness, that she mightascertain whether she could recognise in it any person whom she might haveseen in the gallery. 

[The public, with the exception of the lowest class, were admitted intothe gallery and larger apartments of Versailles, as they were into thepark. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

The woman De Lamotte's father was a peasant at Auteuil, though he calledhimself Valois. Madame de Boulainvilliers once saw from her terrace twopretty little peasant girls, each labouring under a heavy bundle ofsticks. The priest of the village, who was walking with her, told herthat the children possessed some curious papers, and that he had no doubtthey were descendants of a Valois, an illegitimate son of one of theprinces of that name. 

The family of Valois had long ceased to appear in the world. Hereditaryvices had gradually plunged them into the deepest misery. I have heardthat the last Valois then known occupied the estate called Gros Bois; thatas he seldom came to Court, Louis XIII. Asked him what he was about thathe remained so constantly in the country; and that this M. De Valoismerely answered, "Sire, I only do there what I ought. " It was shortlyafterwards discovered that he was coining. 

Neither the Queen herself nor any one near her ever had the slightestconnection with the woman De Lamotte; and during her prosecution she couldpoint out but one of the Queen's servants, named Desclos, a valet of theQueen's bedchamber, to whom she pre tended she had delivered Boehmer'snecklace. This Desclos was a very honest man; upon being confronted withthe woman De Lamotte, it was proved that she had never seen him but once, which was at the house of the wife of a surgeon-accoucheur at Versailles, the only person she visited at Court; and that she had not given him thenecklace. Madame de Lamotte married a private in Monsieur's body-guard;she lodged at Versailles at the Belle Image, a very inferior furnishedhouse; and it is inconceivable how so obscure a person could succeed inmaking herself believed to be a friend of the Queen, who, though soextremely affable, seldom granted audiences, and only to titled persons. 

The trial of the Cardinal is too generally known to require me to repeatits details here. The point most embarrassing to him was the interview hehad in February, 1785, with M. De Saint-James, to whom he confided theparticulars of the Queen's pretended commission, and showed the contractapproved and signed Marie Antoinette de France. The memorandum found in adrawer of the Cardinal's bureau, in which he had himself written whatBaehmer told him after having seen me at my country house, was likewise anunfortunate document for his Eminence. 

I offered to the King to go and declare that Baehmer had told me that theCardinal assured him he had received from the Queen's own hand the thirtythousand francs given on account upon the bargain being concluded, andthat his Eminence had seen her Majesty take that sum in bills from theporcelain secretaire in her boudoir. The King declined my offer, and saidto me, "Were you alone when Boehmer told you this?" I answered that I wasalone with him in my garden. "Well, " resumed he, "the man would deny thefact; he is now sure of being paid his sixteen hundred thousand francs, which the Cardinal's family will find it necessary to make good to him; wecan no longer rely upon his sincerity; it would look as if you were sentby the Queen, and that would not be proper. "

[The guilty woman no sooner knew that all was about to be discovered thanshe sent for the jewellers, and told them the Cardinal had perceived thatthe agreement, which he believed to have been signed by the Queen, was afalse and forged document. "However, " added she, "the Cardinal possessesa considerable fortune, and he can very well pay you. " These words revealthe whole secret. The Countess had taken the necklace to herself, andflattered herself that M. De Rohan, seeing himself deceived and cruellyimposed upon, would determine to pay and make the beat terms he could, rather than suffer a matter of this nature to become public. -"SecretCorrespondence of the Court of Louis XVI. "]

The procureur general's information was severe on the Cardinal. TheHouses of Conde and Rohan and the majority of the nobility saw in thisaffair only an attack on the Prince's rank, the clergy only a blow aimedat the privileges of a cardinal. The clergy demanded that the unfortunatebusiness of the Prince Cardinal de Rohan should be submitted toecclesiastical jurisdiction, and the Archbishop of Narbonne, thenPresident of the Convocation, made representations upon the subject to theKing; the bishops wrote to his Majesty to remind him that a privateecclesiastic implicated in the affair then pending would have a right toclaim his constitutional judges, and that this right was refused to acardinal, his superior in the hierarchical order. In short, the clergyand the greater part of the nobility were at that time outrageous againstauthority, and chiefly against the Queen. 

The procureur-general's conclusions, and those of a part of the heads ofthe magistracy, were as severe towards the Cardinal as the information hadbeen; yet he was fully acquitted by a majority of three voices; the womanDe Lamotte was condemned to be whipped, branded, and imprisoned; and herhusband, for contumacy, was condemned to the galleys for life. 

[The following extract is from the "Memoirs" of the Abbe Georgel: "Thesittings were long and multiplied; it was necessary to read the wholeproceedings; more than fifty judges sat; a master of requests; a friend ofthe Prince, wrote down all that was said there, and sent it to hisadvisers, who found means to inform the Cardinal of it, and to add theplan of conduct he ought to pursue. " D'Epremesnil, and other youngcounsellors, showed upon that occasion but too much audacity in bravingthe Court, too much eagerness in seizing an opportunity of attacking it. They were the first to shake that authority which their functions made ita duty in them to respect. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

M. Pierre de Laurencel, the procureur general's substitute, sent the Queena list of the names of the members of the Grand Chamber, with the meansmade use of by the friends of the Cardinal to gain their votes during thetrial. I had this list to keep among the papers which the Queen depositedin the house of M. Campan, my father-in-law, and which, at his death, sheordered me to preserve. I burnt this statement, but I remember ladiesperformed a part not very creditable to their principles; it was by them, in consideration of large sums which they received, that some of theoldest and most respected members were won over. I did not see a singlename amongst the whole Parliament that was gained directly. 

The belief confirmed by time is, that the Cardinal was completely duped bythe woman De Lamotte and Cagliostro. The King may have been in error inthinking him an accomplice in this miserable and criminal scheme, but Ihave faithfully repeated his Majesty's judgment about it. 

However, the generally received opinion that the Baron de Breteuil'shatred for the Cardinal was the cause of the scandal and the unfortunateresult of this affair contributed to the disgrace of the former still morethan his refusal to give his granddaughter in marriage to the son of theDuc de Polignac. The Abbe de Vermond threw the whole blame of theimprudence and impolicy of the affair of the Cardinal de Rohan upon theminister, and ceased to be the friend and supporter of the Baron deBreteuil with the Queen. 

In the early part of the year 1786, the Cardinal, as has been said, wasfully acquitted, and came out of the Bastille, while Madame de Lamotte wascondemned to be whipped, branded, and imprisoned. The Court, persistingin the erroneous views which had hitherto guided its measures, conceivedthat the Cardinal and the woman De Lamotte were equally culpable andunequally punished, and sought to restore the balance of justice byexiling the Cardinal to La Chaise-Dieu, and suffering Madame de Lamotte toescape a few days after she entered l'Hopital. This new error confirmedthe Parisians in the idea that the wretch De Lamotte, who had never beenable to make her way so far as to the room appropriated to the Queen'swomen, had really interested the Queen herself. 

[Further particulars will be found in the "Memoirs of the Comte deBeugnot" (London: Hurst & Blackett, 1871), as he knew Madame de Lamottefrom the days of her early childhood (when the three children, the Baronde Valois, who died captain of a frigate, and the two Mademoiselles deSaint-Remi, the last descendants of the Baron de Saint-Remi, a natural sonof Henri II. , were almost starving) to the time of her temporaryprosperity. In fact, he was with her when she burnt the correspondence ofthe Cardinal, in the interval the Court foolishly allowed between hisarrest and her capture, and De Beugnot believed he had met at her house, at the moment of their return from their successful trick, the whole partyengaged in deluding the Cardinal. It is worth noting that he was thenstruck by the face of Mademoiselle d'Oliva, who had just personated theQueen in presenting a rose to the Cardinal. It may also be cited as apleasing quality of Madame de Lamotte that she, "in her ordinaryconversation, used the words stupid and honest as synonymous. "--See"Beugnot, " vol. I. , p. 60. ]

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Abbe de Vermond could not repress his exultation when he succeeded ingetting the Archbishop of Sens appointed head of the council of finance. Ihave more than once heard him say that seventeen years of patience werenot too long a term for success in a Court; that he spent all that time ingaining the end he had in view; but that at length the Archbishop waswhere he ought to be for the good of the State. The Abbe, from this time, in the Queen's private circle no longer concealed his credit andinfluence; nothing could equal the confidence with which he displayed theextent of his pretensions. He requested the Queen to order that theapartments appropriated to him should be enlarged, telling her that, beingobliged to give audiences to bishops, cardinals, and ministers, herequired a residence suitable to his present circumstances. The Queencontinued to treat him as she did before the Archbishop's arrival atCourt; but the household showed him increased consideration: the word"Monsieur" preceded that of Abbe; and from that moment not only the liveryservants, but also the people of the antechambers rose when Monsieurl'Abbe was passing, though there never was, to my knowledge, any ordergiven to that effect. 

The Queen was obliged, on account of the King's disposition and the verylimited confidence he placed in the Archbishop of Sens, to take a part inpublic affairs. While M. De Maurepas lived she kept out of that danger, as may be seen by the censure which the Baron de Besenval passes on her inhis memoirs for not availing herself of the conciliation he had promotedbetween the Queen and that minister, who counteracted the ascendency whichthe Queen and her intimate friends might otherwise have gained over theKing's mind. 

The Queen has often assured me that she never interfered respecting theinterests of Austria but once; and that was only to claim the execution ofthe treaty of alliance at the time when Joseph II. Was at war with Prussiaand Turkey; that, she then demanded that an army of twenty-four thousandmen should be sent to him instead of fifteen millions, an alternativewhich had been left to option in the treaty, in case the Emperor shouldhave a just war to maintain; that she could not obtain her object, and M. De Vergennes, in an interview which she had with him upon the subject, putan end to her importunities by observing that he was answering the motherof the Dauphin and not the sister of the Emperor. The fifteen millionswere sent. There was no want of money at Vienna, and the value of aFrench army was fully appreciated. 

"But how, " said the Queen, "could they be so wicked as to send off thosefifteen millions from the general post-office, diligently publishing, evento the street porters, that they were loading carriages with money that Iwas sending to my brother!--whereas it is certain that the money wouldequally have been sent if I had belonged to another house; and, besides, it was sent contrary to my inclination. "

[This was not the first time the Queen had become unpopular in consequenceof financial support afforded by France to her brother. The Emperor JosephII, made, in November, 1783, and in May, 1784, startling claims on therepublic of the United Provinces; he demanded the opening of the Scheldt, the cession of Maeatricht with its dependencies, of the country beyond theMeuse, the county of Vroenhoven, and a sum of seventy millions of florins. The first gun was fired by the Emperor on the Scheldt 6th November, 1784. Peace was concluded 8th November, 1785, through the mediation of France. The singular part was the indemnification granted to the Emperor: this wasa sum of ten millions of Dutch florins; the articles 15, 16, and 17 of thetreaty stipulated the quotas of it. Holland paid five millions and ahalf, and France, under the direction of M. De Vergennes, four millionsand a half of florins, that is to say, nine millions and forty-fivethousand francs, according to M. Soulavie. M. De augur, in his "Policy ofCabinets" (vol. Iii. ), says relative to this affair:

"M. De Vergennes has been much blamed for having terminated, by asacrifice of seven millions, the contest that existed between the UnitedProvinces and the Emperor. In that age of philosophy men were still veryuncivilised; in that age of commerce they made very erroneouscalculations; and those who accused the Queen of sending the gold ofFrance to her brother would have been better pleased if, to support arepublic devoid of energy, the blood of two hundred thousand men, andthree or four hundred millions of francs, had been sacrificed, and at thesame time the risk run of losing the advantage of peace dictated toEngland. " MADAME CAMPAN. ]

When the Comte de Moustier set out on his mission to the United States, after having had his public audience of leave he came and asked me toprocure him a private one. I could not succeed even with the strongestsolicitations; the Queen desired me to wish him a good voyage, but addedthat none but ministers could have anything to say to him in private, since he was going to a country where the names of King and Queen must bedetested. 

Marie Antoinette had then no direct influence over State affairs untilafter the deaths of M. De Maurepas and M. De Vergennes, and the retirementof M. De Calonne. She frequently regretted her new situation, and lookedupon it as a misfortune which she could not avoid. One day, while I wasassisting her to tie up a number of memorials and reports, which some ofthe ministers had handed to her to be given to the King, "Ah!" said she, sighing, "there is an end of all happiness for me, since they have made anintriguer of me. " I exclaimed at the word. 

"Yes, " resumed, the Queen, "that is the right term; every woman whomeddles with affairs above her understanding or out of her line of duty isan intriguer and nothing else; you will remember, however, that it is notmy own fault, and that it is with regret I give myself such a title;Queens of France are happy only so long as they meddle with nothing, andmerely preserve influence sufficient to advance their friends and reward afew zealous servants. Do you know what happened to me lately? One daysince I began to attend private committees at the King's, while crossingthe oiel-de-boeuf, I heard one of the musicians of the chapel say so loudthat I lost not a single word, 'A Queen who does her duty will remain inher apartment to knit. ' I said within myself, 'Poor wretch, thou artright; but thou knowest not my situation; I yield to necessity and my evildestiny. '"

This situation was the more painful to the Queen inasmuch as Louis XVI. Had long accustomed himself to say nothing to her respecting Stateaffairs; and when, towards the close of his reign, she was obliged tointerfere in the most important matters, the same habit in the Kingfrequently kept from her particulars which it was necessary she shouldhave known. Obtaining, therefore, only insufficient information, andguided by persons more ambitious than skilful, the Queen could not beuseful in important affairs; yet, at the same time, her ostensibleinterference drew upon her, from all parties and all classes of society, an unpopularity the rapid progress of which alarmed all those who weresincerely attached to her. 

Carried away by the eloquence of the Archbishop of Sens, and encouraged inthe confidence she placed in that minister by the incessant eulogies ofthe Abbe de Vermond on his abilities, the Queen unfortunately followed upher first mistake of bringing him into office in 1787 by supporting him atthe time of his disgrace, which was obtained by the despair of a wholenation. She thought it was due to her dignity to give him some markedproof of her regard at the moment of his departure; misled by herfeelings, she sent him her portrait enriched with jewelry, and a brevetfor the situation of lady of the palace for Madame de Canisy, his niece, observing that it was necessary to indemnify a minister sacrificed to theintrigues of the Court and a factious spirit of the nation; that otherwisenone would be found willing to devote themselves to the interests of thesovereign. 

On the day of the Archbishop's departure the public joy was universal, both at Court and at Paris there were bonfires; the attorneys' clerksburnt the Archbishop in effigy, and on the evening of his disgrace morethan a hundred couriers were sent out from Versailles to spread the happytidings among the country seats. I have seen the Queen shed bitter tearsat the recollection of the errors she committed at this period, whensubsequently, a short time before her death, the Archbishop had theaudacity to say, in a speech which was printed, that the sole object ofone part of his operations, during his administration, was the salutarycrisis which the Revolution had produced. 

The benevolence and generosity shown by the King and Queen during thesevere winter of 1788, when the Seine was frozen over and the cold wasmore intense than it had been for eighty years, procured them somefleeting popularity. The gratitude of the Parisians for the succour theirMajesties poured forth was lively if not lasting. The snow was soabundant that since that period there has never been seen such aprodigious quantity in France. In different parts of Paris pyramids andobelisks of snow were erected with inscriptions expressive of thegratitude of the people. The pyramid in the Rue d'Angiviller wassupported on a base six feet high by twelve broad; it rose to the heightof fifteen feet, and was terminated by a globe. Four blocks of stone, placed at the angles, corresponded with the obelisk, and gave it anelegant appearance. Several inscriptions, in honour of the King andQueen, were affixed to it. I went to see this singular monument, andrecollect the following inscription:

"TO MARIE ANTOINETTE. " "Lovely and good, to tender pity true, Queen of a virtuous King, this trophy view; Cold ice and snow sustain its fragile form, But ev'ry grateful heart to thee is warm. Oh, may this tribute in your hearts excite, Illustrious pair, more pure and real delight, Whilst thus your virtues are sincerely prais'd, Than pompous domes by servile flatt'ry rais'd. "The theatres generally rang with praises of the beneficence of thesovereigns: "La Partie de Chasse de Henri IV. " was represented for thebenefit of the poor. The receipts were very considerable. 

When the fruitless measure of the Assembly of the Notables, and therebellious spirit in the parliaments, had created the necessity forStates General, it was long discussed in council whether they should beassembled at Versailles or at forty or sixty leagues from the capital;the Queen was for the latter course, and insisted to the King that theyought to be far away from the immense population of Paris. 

[The Assembly of the Notables, as may be seen in "Weber's Memoirs, " vol. I. , overthrew the plans and caused the downfall of M. De Calonne. Aprince of the blood presided over each of the meetings of that assembly. Monsieur, afterwards Louis XVIII. , presided over the first meeting. 

"Monsieur, " says a contemporary, "gained great reputation at the Assemblyof the Notables in 1787. He did not miss attending his meeting a singleday, and he displayed truly patriotic virtues. His care in discussing theweighty matters of administration, in throwing light upon them, and indefending the interests and the cause of the people, was such as even toinspire the King with some degree of jealousy. Monsieur openly said thata respectful resistance to the orders of the monarch was not blamable, andthat authority might be met by argument, and forced to receive informationwithout any offence whatever. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

She feared that the people would influence the deliberations of thedeputies; several memorials were presented to the King upon thatquestion; but M. Necker prevailed, and Versailles was the place fixedupon. 

The day on which the King announced that he gave his consent to theconvocation of the States General, the Queen left the public dinner, andplaced herself in the recess of the first window of her bedchamber, withher face towards the garden. Her chief butler followed her, to presenther coffee, which she usually took standing, as she was about to leave thetable. She beckoned to me to come close to her. The King was engaged inconversation with some one in his room. When the attendant had served herhe retired; and she addressed me, with the cup still in her hand: "GreatHeavens! what fatal news goes forth this day! The King assents to theconvocation of the States General. " Then she added, raising her eyes toheaven, "I dread it; this important event is a first fatal signal ofdiscord in France. " She cast her eyes down, they were filled with tears. She could not take the remainder of her coffee, but handed me the cup, andwent to join the King. In the evening, when she was alone with me, shespoke only of this momentous decision. "It is the Parliament, " said she, "that has compelled the King to have recourse to a measure long consideredfatal to the repose of the kingdom. These gentlemen wish to restrain thepower of the King; but they give a great shock to the authority of whichthey make so bad a use, and they will bring on their own destruction. "

The double representation granted to the Tiers Etat was now the chieftopic of conversation. The Queen favoured this plan, to which the Kinghad agreed; she thought the hope of obtaining ecclesiastical favours wouldsecure the clergy of the second order, and that M. Necker was sure to havethe same degree of influence over the lawyers, and other people of thatclass comprised in the Tiers Dat. The Comte d'Artois, holding thecontrary opinion, presented a memorial in the names of himself and severalprinces of the blood to the King against the double representation. TheQueen was displeased with him for this; her confidential advisers infusedinto her apprehensions that the Prince was made the tool of a party; buthis conduct was approved of by Madame de Polignac's circle, which theQueen thenceforward only frequented to avoid the appearance of a change inher habits. She almost always returned unhappy; she was treated with theprofound respect due to a queen, but the devotion of friendship hadvanished, to make way for the coldness of etiquette, which wounded herdeeply. The alienation between her and the Comte Artois was also verypainful to her, for she had loved him almost as tenderly as if he had beenher own brother. 

The opening of the States General took place on the 4th of May, 1789. TheQueen on that occasion appeared for the last time in her life in regalmagnificence. During the procession some low women, seeing the Queenpass, cried out "Vive le Duc d' Orleans!" in so threatening a manner thatshe nearly fainted. She was obliged to be supported, and those about herwere afraid it would be necessary to stop the procession. The Queen, however, recovered herself, and much regretted that she had not been ableto command more presence of mind. 

The rapidly increasing distrust of the King and Queen shown by thepopulace was greatly attributable to incessant corruption by English gold, and the projects, either of revenge or of ambition, of the Duc d'Orleans. Let it not be thought that this accusation is founded on what has been sooften repeated by the heads of the French Government since the Revolution. Twice between the 14th of July and the 6th of October, 1789, the day onwhich the Court was dragged to Paris, the Queen prevented me from makinglittle excursions thither of business or pleasure, saying to me, "Do notgo on such a day to Paris; the English have been scattering gold, we shallhave some disturbance. " The repeated visits of the Duc d'Orleans toEngland had excited the Anglomania to such a pitch that Paris was nolonger distinguishable from London. The French, formerly imitated by thewhole of Europe, became on a sudden a nation of imitators, withoutconsidering the evils that arts and manufactures must suffer inconsequence of the change. Since the treaty of commerce made with Englandat the peace of 1783, not merely equipages, but everything, even toribands and common earthenware, were of English make. If thispredominance of English fashions had been confined to filling ourdrawing-rooms with young men in English frock-coats, instead of the Frenchdress, good taste and commerce might alone have suffered; but theprinciples of English government had taken possession of these youngheads. Constitution, Upper House, Lower House, national guarantee, balance of power, Magna Charta, Law of Habeas Corpus, --all these wordswere incessantly repeated, and seldom understood; but they were offundamental importance to a party which was then forming. 

The first sitting of the States took place on the following day. The Kingdelivered his speech with firmness and dignity; the Queen told me that hehad taken great pains about it, and had repeated it frequently. HisMajesty gave public marks of attachment and respect for the Queen, who wasapplauded; but it was easy to see that this applause was in fact renderedto the King alone. 

It was evident, during the first sittings, that Mirabeau would be verydangerous to the Government. It affirmed that at this period hecommunicated to the King, and still more fully to the Queen, part of hisschemes for abandoning them. He brandished the weapons afforded him byhis eloquence and audacity, in order to make terms with the party he meantto attack. This man played the game of revolution to make his ownfortune. The Queen told me that he asked for an embassy, and, if mymemory does not deceive me, it was that of Constantinople. He was refusedwith well-deserved contempt, though policy would doubtless have concealedit, could the future have been foreseen. 

The enthusiasm prevailing at the opening of this assembly, and the debatesbetween the Tiers Etat, the nobility, and even the clergy, daily increasedthe alarm of their Majesties, and all who were attached to the cause ofmonarchy. The Queen went to bed late, or rather she began to be unable torest. One evening, about the end of May, she was sitting in her room, relating several remarkable occurrences of the day; four wax candles wereplaced upon her toilet-table; the first went out of itself; I relightedit; shortly afterwards the second, and then the third went out also; uponwhich the Queen, squeezing my hand in terror, said to me: "Misfortunemakes us superstitious; if the fourth taper should go out like the rest, nothing can prevent my looking upon it as a sinister omen. " The fourthtaper went out. It was remarked to the Queen that the four tapers hadprobably been run in the same mould, and that a defect in the wick hadnaturally occurred at the same point in each, since the candles had allgone out in the order in which they had been lighted. 

The deputies of the Tiers Etat arrived at Versailles full of the strongestprejudices against the Court. They believed that the King indulged in thepleasures of the table to a shameful excess; and that the Queen wasdraining the treasury of the State in order to satisfy the most unbridledluxury. They almost all determined to see Petit Trianon. The extremeplainness of the retreat in question not answering the ideas they hadformed, some of them insisted upon seeing the very smallest closets, saying that the richly furnished apartments were concealed from them. Theyparticularised one which, according to them, was ornamented with diamonds, and with wreathed columns studded with sapphires and rubies. The Queencould not get these foolish ideas out of her mind, and spoke to the Kingon the subject. From the description given of this room by the deputiesto the keepers of Trianon, the King concluded that they were looking forthe scene enriched with paste ornaments, made in the reign of Louis XV. For the theatre of Fontainebleau. 

The King supposed that his Body Guards, on their return to the country, after their quarterly duty at Court, related what they had seen, and thattheir exaggerated accounts, being repeated, became at last totallyperverted. This idea of the King, after the search for the diamondchamber, suggested to the Queen that the report of the King's propensityfor drinking also sprang from the guards who accompanied his carriage whenhe hunted at Rambouillet. The King, who disliked sleeping out of hisusual bed, was accustomed to leave that hunting-seat after supper; hegenerally slept soundly in his carriage, and awoke only on his arrival atthe courtyard of his palace; he used to get down from his carriage in themidst of his Body Guards, staggering, as a man half awake will do, whichwas mistaken for intoxication. 

The majority of the deputies who came imbued with prejudices produced byerror or malevolence, went to lodge with the most humble privateindividuals of Versailles, whose inconsiderate conversation contributednot a little to nourish such mistakes. Everything, in short, tended torender the deputies subservient to the schemes of the leaders of therebellion. 

Shortly after the opening of the States General the first Dauphin died. That young Prince suffered from the rickets, which in a few months curvedhis spine, and rendered his legs so weak that he could not walk withoutbeing supported like a feeble old man. 

[Louis, Dauphin of France, who died at Versailles on the 4th of June, 1789, gave promise of intellectual precocity. The following particulars, which convey some idea of his disposition, and of the assiduous attentionbestowed upon him by the Duchesse de Polignac, will be found in a work ofthat time: "At two years old the Dauphin was very pretty; he articulatedwell, and answered questions put to him intelligently. While he was atthe Chateau de La Muette everybody was at liberty to see him. The Dauphinwas dressed plainly, like a sailor; there was nothing to distinguish himfrom other children in external appearance but the cross of Saint Louis, the blue ribbon, and the Order of the Fleece, decorations that are thedistinctive signs of his rank. The Duchesse Jules de Polignac, hisgoverness, scarcely ever left him for a single instant: she gave up allthe Court excursions and amusements in order to devote her whole attentionto him. The Prince always manifested a great regard for M. De Bourset, his valet de chambre. During the illness of which he died, he one dayasked for a pair of scissors; that gentleman reminded him that they wereforbidden. The child insisted mildly, and they were obliged to yield tohim. Having got the scissors, he cut off a lock of his hair, which hewrapped in a sheet of paper: 'There, monsieur, ' said he to his valet dechambre, ' there is the only present I can make you, having nothing at mycommand; but when I am dead you will present this pledge to my papa andmamma; and while they remember me, I hope they will not forgetyou. '"--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

How many maternal tears did his condition draw from the Queen, alreadyoverwhelmed with apprehensions respecting the state of the kingdom! Hergrief was enhanced by petty intrigues, which, when frequently renewed, became intolerable. An open quarrel between the families and friends ofthe Duc Harcourt, the Dauphin's governor, and those of the Duchesse dePolignac, his governess, added greatly to the Queen's affliction. Theyoung Prince showed a strong dislike to the Duchesse de Polignac, whoattributed it either to the Duc or the Duchesse d'Harcourt, and came tomake her complaints respecting it to the Queen. The Dauphin twice senther out of his room, saying to her, with that maturity of manner whichlong illness always gives to children: "Go out, Duchess; you are so fondof using perfumes, and they always make me ill;" and yet she never usedany. The Queen perceived, also, that his prejudices against her friendextended to herself; her son would no longer speak in her presence. Sheknew that he had become fond of sweetmeats, and offered him somemarshmallow and jujube lozenges. The under-governors and the first valetde chambre requested her not to give the Dauphin anything, as he was toreceive no food of any kind without the consent of the faculty. I forbearto describe the wound this prohibition inflicted upon the Queen; she feltit the more deeply because she was aware it was unjustly believed she gavea decided preference to the Duc de Normandie, whose ruddy health andamiability did, in truth, form a striking contrast to the languid look andmelancholy disposition of his elder brother. She even suspected that aplot had for some time existed to deprive her of the affection of a childwhom she loved as a good and tender mother ought. Previous to theaudience granted by the King on the 10th August, 1788, to the envoy of theSultan Tippoo Saib, she had begged the Duc d'Harcourt to divert theDauphin, whose deformity was already apparent, from his, intention to bepresent at that ceremony, being unwilling to expose him to the gaze of thecrowd of inquisitive Parisians who would be in the gallery. Notwithstanding this injunction, the Dauphin was suffered to write to hismother, requesting her permission to be present at the audience. TheQueen was obliged to refuse him, and warmly reproached the governor, whomerely answered that he could not oppose the wishes of a sick child. Ayear before the death of the Dauphin the Queen lost the Princesse Sophie;this was, as the Queen said, the first of a series of misfortunes. 

NOTE: As Madame Campan has stated in the foregoing pages that the moneyto foment sedition was furnished from English sources, the decree of theConvention of August, 1793, maybe quoted as illustrative of the ententecordiale alleged to exist between the insurrectionary Government and itsfriends across the Channel! The endeavours made by the English Governmentto save the unfortunate King are well known. The motives prompting theconduct of the Duc d'Orleans are equally well known. 

Art. I. The National Convention denounces the British Government toEurope and the English nation. 

Art. Ii. Every Frenchman that shall place his money in the English fundsshall be declared a traitor to his country. 

Art. Iii. Every Frenchman who has money in the English funds or those ofany other Power with whom France is at war shall be obliged to declare thesame. 

Art. Iv. All foreigners, subjects of the Powers now at war with France, particularly the English, shall be arrested, and seals put upon theirpapers. 

Art. V. The barriers of Paris shall be instantly shut. 

Art. Vi. All good citizens shall be required in the name of the countryto search for the foreigners concerned in any plot denounced. 

Art. Vii. Three millions shall be at the disposal of the Minister at Warto facilitate the march of the garrison of Mentz to La Vendee. 

Art. Viii. The Minister at War shall send to the army on the coast ofRochelle all the combustible materials necessary to set fire to theforests and underwood of La Vendee. 

Art. Ix. The women, the children, and old men shall be conducted to theinterior parts of the country. 

Art. X. The property of the rebels shall be confiscated for the benefitof the Republic. 

Art. Xi. A camp shall be formed without delay between Paris and theNorthern army. 

Art. Xii. All the family of the Capets shall be banished from the Frenchterritory, those excepted who are under the sword of the law, and theoffspring of Louis Capet, who shall both remain in the Temple. 

Art. Xiii. Marie Antoinette shall be delivered over to the RevolutionaryTribunal, and shall be immediately conducted to the prison of theConciergerie. Louise Elisabeth shall remain in the Temple till after thejudgment of Marie Antoinette. 

Art. Xiv. All the tombs of the Kings which are at St. Denis and in thedepartments shall be destroyed on August the 10th. 

Art. Xv. The present decree shall be despatched by extraordinarycouriers to all the departments. 

MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE

Being the Historic Memoirs of Madam Campan, First Lady in Waiting to the Queen. 

BOOK 2. 

CHAPTER I. 

The ever-memorable oath of the States General, taken at the Tennis Courtof Versailles, was followed by the royal sitting of the 23d of June. Inthis seance the King declared that the Orders must vote separately, andthreatened, if further obstacles were met with, to himself act for thegood of the people. The Queen looked on M. Necker's not accompanying theKing as treachery or criminal cowardice: she said that he had converted aremedy into poison; that being in full popularity, his audacity, in openlydisavowing the step taken by his sovereign, had emboldened the factious, and led away the whole Assembly; and that he was the more culpableinasmuch as he had the evening before given her his word to accompany theKing. In vain did M. Necker endeavour to excuse himself by saying thathis advice had not been followed. 

Soon afterwards the insurrections of the 11th, 12th, and 14th ofJuly--[The Bastille was taken on the 14th July, 1789. ]--opened thedisastrous drama with which France was threatened. The massacre of M. DeFlesselles and M. De Launay drew bitter tears from the Queen, and the ideathat the King had lost such devoted subjects wounded her to the heart. 

The character of the movement was no longer merely that of a popularinsurrection; cries of "Vive la Nation! Vive le Roi! Vive la Liberte!"threw the strongest light upon the views of the reformers. Still thepeople spoke of the King with affection, and appeared to think himfavourable to the national desire for the reform of what were calledabuses; but they imagined that he was restrained by the opinions andinfluence of the Comte d'Artois and the Queen; and those two augustpersonages were therefore objects of hatred to the malcontents. Thedangers incurred by the Comte d'Artois determined the King's first stepwith the States General. He attended their meeting on the morning of the15th of July with his brothers, without pomp or escort; he spoke standingand uncovered, and pronounced these memorable words: "I trust myself toyou; I only wish to be at one with my nation, and, counting on theaffection and fidelity of my subjects, I have given orders to the troopsto remove from Paris and Versailles. " The King returned on foot from thechamber of the States General to his palace; the deputies crowded afterhim, and formed his escort, and that of the Princes who accompanied him. The rage of the populace was pointed against the Comte d'Artois, whoseunfavourable opinion of the double representation was an odious crime intheir eyes. They repeatedly cried out, "The King for ever, in spite ofyou and your opinions, Monseigneur!" One woman had the impudence to comeup to the King and ask him whether what he had been doing was donesincerely, and whether he would not be forced to retract it. 

The courtyards of the Chateau were thronged with an immense concourse ofpeople; they demanded that the King and Queen, with their children, shouldmake their appearance in the balcony. The Queen gave me the key of theinner doors, which led to the Dauphin's apartments, and desired me to goto the Duchesse de Polignac to tell her that she wanted her son, and haddirected me to bring him myself into her room, where she waited to showhim to the people. The Duchess said this order indicated that she was notto accompany the Prince. I did not answer; she squeezed my hand, saying, "Ah! Madame Campan, what a blow I receive!" She embraced the child and mewith tears. She knew how much I loved and valued the goodness and thenoble simplicity of her disposition. I endeavoured to reassure her bysaying that I should bring back the Prince to her; but she persisted, andsaid she understood the order, and knew what it meant. She then retired toher private room, holding her handkerchief to her eyes. One of theunder-governesses asked me whether she might go with the Dauphin; I toldher the Queen had given no order to the contrary, and we hastened to herMajesty, who was waiting to lead the Prince to the balcony. 

Having executed this sad commission, I went down into the courtyard, whereI mingled with the crowd. I heard a thousand vociferations; it was easyto see, by the difference between the language and the dress of somepersons among the mob, that they were in disguise. A woman, whose facewas covered with a black lace veil, seized me by the arm with someviolence, and said, calling me by my name, "I know you very well; tellyour Queen not to meddle with government any longer; let her leave herhusband and our good States General to effect the happiness of thepeople. " At the same moment a man, dressed much in the style of amarketman, with his hat pulled down over his eyes, seized me by the otherarm, and said, "Yes, yes; tell her over and over again that it will not bewith these States as with the others, which produced no good to thepeople; that the nation is too enlightened in 1789 not to make somethingmore of them; and that there will not now be seen a deputy of the 'TiersEtat' making a speech with one knee on the ground; tell her this, do youhear?" I was struck with dread; the Queen then appeared in the balcony. "Ah!" said the woman in the veil, "the Duchess is not with her. "--"No, "replied the man, "but she is still at Versailles; she is workingunderground, molelike; but we shall know how to dig her out. " Thedetestable pair moved away from me, and I reentered the palace, scarcelyable to support myself. I thought it my duty to relate the dialogue ofthese two strangers to the Queen; she made me repeat the particulars tothe King. 

About four in the afternoon I went across the terrace to Madame Victoire'sapartments; three men had stopped under the windows of the throne-chamber. "Here is that throne, " said one of them aloud, "the vestiges of which willsoon be sought for. " He added a thousand invectives against theirMajesties. I went in to the Princess, who was at work alone in hercloset, behind a canvass blind, which prevented her from being seen bythose without. The three men were still walking upon the terrace; Ishowed them to her, and told her what they had said. She rose to take anearer view of them, and informed me that one of them was namedSaint-Huruge; that he was sold to the Duc d'Orleans, and was furiousagainst the Government, because he had been confined once under a 'lettrede cachet' as a bad character. 

The King was not ignorant of these popular threats; he also knew the dayson which money was scattered about Paris, and once or twice the Queenprevented my going there, saying there would certainly be a riot the nextday, because she knew that a quantity of crown pieces had been distributedin the faubourgs. 

[I have seen a six-franc crown piece, which certainly served to pay somewretch on the night of the 12th of July; the words "Midnight, 12th July, three pistols, " were rather deeply engraven on it. They were, no doubt, apassword for the first insurrection. --MADAME COMPAN]

On the evening of the 14th of July the King came to the Queen'sapartments, where I was with her Majesty alone; he conversed with herrespecting the scandalous report disseminated by the factious, that he hadhad the Chamber of the National Assembly undermined, in order to blow itup; but he added that it became him to treat such absurd assertions withcontempt, as usual; I ventured to tell him that I had the evening beforesupped with M. Begouen, one of the deputies, who said that there were veryrespectable persons who thought that this horrible contrivance had beenproposed without the King's knowledge. "Then, " said his Majesty, "as theidea of such an atrocity was not revolting to so worthy a man as M. Begouen, I will order the chamber to be examined early to-morrow morning. "In fact, it will be seen by the King's, speech to the National Assembly, on the 15th of July, that the suspicions excited obtained his attention. "I know, " said he in the speech in question, "that unworthy insinuationshave been made; I know there are those who have dared to assert that yourpersons are not safe; can it be necessary to give you assurances upon thesubject of reports so culpable, denied beforehand by my known character?"

The proceedings of the 15th of July produced no mitigation of thedisturbances. Successive deputations of poissardes came to request theKing to visit Paris, where his presence alone would put an end to theinsurrection. 

On the 16th a committee was held in the King's apartments, at which a mostimportant question was discussed: whether his Majesty should quitVersailles and set off with the troops whom he had recently ordered towithdraw, or go to Paris to tranquillise the minds of the people. TheQueen was for the departure. On the evening of the 16th she made me takeall her jewels out of their cases, to collect them in one small box, whichshe might carry off in her own carriage. With my assistance she burnt alarge quantity of papers; for Versailles was then threatened with an earlyvisit of armed men from Paris. 

The Queen, on the morning of the 16th, before attending another committeeat the King's, having got her jewels ready, and looked over all herpapers, gave me one folded up but not sealed, and desired me not to readit until she should give me an order to do so from the King's room, andthat then I was to execute its contents; but she returned herself aboutten in the morning; the affair was decided; the army was to go awaywithout the King; all those who were in imminent danger were to go at thesame time. "The King will go to the Hotel de Ville to-morrow, " said theQueen to me; "he did not choose this course for himself; there were longdebates on the question; at last the King put an end to them by rising andsaying, 'Well, gentlemen, we must decide; am I to go or to stay? I amready to do either. ' The majority were for the King staying; time willshow whether the right choice has been made. " I returned the Queen thepaper she had given me, which was now useless; she read it to me; itcontained her orders for the departure; I was to go with her, as well onaccount of my office about her person as to serve as a teacher to Madame. The Queen tore the paper, and said, with tears in her eyes, "When I wrotethis I thought it would be useful, but fate has ordered otherwise, to themisfortune of us all, as I much fear. "

After the departure of the troops the new administration received thanks;M. Necker was recalled. The artillery soldiers were undoubtedlycorrupted. "Wherefore all these guns?" exclaimed the crowds of women whofilled the streets. "Will you kill your mothers, your wives, yourchildren?"--"Don't be afraid, " answered the soldiers; "these guns shallrather be levelled against the tyrant's palace than against you!"

The Comte d'Artois, the Prince de Conde, and their children set off at thesame time with the troops. The Duc and Duchesse de Polignac, theirdaughter, the Duchesse de Guiche, the Comtesse Diane de Polignac, sisterof the Duke, and the Abbe de Baliviere, also emigrated on the same night. Nothing could be more affecting than the parting of the Queen and herfriend; extreme misfortune had banished from their minds the recollectionof differences to which political opinions alone had given rise. TheQueen several times wished to go and embrace her once more after theirsorrowful adieu, but she was too closely watched. She desired M. Campanto be present at the departure of the Duchess, and gave him a purse offive hundred Louis, desiring him to insist upon her allowing the Queen tolend her that sum to defray her expenses on the road. The Queen addedthat she knew her situation; that she had often calculated her income, andthe expenses occasioned by her place at Court; that both husband and wifehaving no other fortune than their official salaries, could not possiblyhave saved anything, however differently people might think at Paris. 

M. Campan remained till midnight with the Duchess to see her enter hercarriage. She was disguised as a femme de chambre, and got up in front ofthe Berlin; she requested M. Campan to remember her frequently to theQueen, and then quitted for ever that palace, that favour, and thatinfluence which had raised her up such cruel enemies. On their arrival atSens the travellers found the people in a state of insurrection; theyasked all those who came from Paris whether the Polignacs were still withthe Queen. A group of inquisitive persons put that question to the Abbede Baliviere, who answered them in the firmest tone, and with the mostcavalier air, that they were far enough from Versailles, and that we hadgot rid of all such bad people. At the following stage the postilion goton the doorstep and said to the Duchess, "Madame, there are some goodpeople left in the world: I recognised you all at Sens. " They gave theworthy fellow a handful of gold. 

On the breaking out of these disturbances an old man above seventy yearsof age gave the Queen an extraordinary proof of attachment and fidelity. M. Peraque, a rich inhabitant of the colonies, father of M. D'Oudenarde, was coming from Brussels to Paris; while changing horses he was met by ayoung man who was leaving France, and who recommended him if he carriedany letters from foreign countries to burn them immediately, especially ifhe had any for the Queen. M. Peraque had one from the Archduchess, theGouvernante of the Low Countries, for her Majesty. He thanked thestranger, and carefully concealed his packet; but as he approached Paristhe insurrection appeared to him so general and so violent, that hethought no means could be relied on for securing this letter from seizure. He took upon him to unseal it, and learned it by heart, which was awonderful effort for a man at his time of life, as it contained four pagesof writing. On his arrival at Paris he wrote it down, and then presentedit to the Queen, telling her that the heart of an old and faithful subjecthad given him courage to form and execute such a resolution. The Queenreceived M. Peraque in her closet, and expressed her gratitude in anaffecting manner most honourable to the worthy old man. Her Majestythought the young stranger who had apprised him of the state of Paris wasPrince George of Hesse-Darmstadt, who was very devoted to her, and wholeft Paris at that time. 

The Marquise de Tourzel replaced the Duchess de Polignac. She wasselected by the Queen as being the mother of a family and a woman ofirreproachable conduct, who had superintended the education of her owndaughters with the greatest success. 

The King went to Paris on the 17th of July, accompanied by the Marechal deBeauvau, the Duc de Villeroi, and the Duc de Villequier; he also took theComte d'Estaing, and the Marquis de Nesle, who were then very popular, inhis carriage. Twelve Body Guards, and the town guard of Versailles, escorted him to the Pont du Jour, near Sevres, where the Parisian guardwas waiting for him. His departure caused equal grief and alarm to hisfriends, notwithstanding the calmness he exhibited. The Queen restrainedher tears, and shut herself up in her private rooms with her family. Shesent for several persons belonging to her Court; their doors were locked. Terror had driven them away. The silence of death reigned throughout thepalace; they hardly dared hope that the King would return? The Queen hada robe prepared for her, and sent orders to her stables to have all herequipages ready. She wrote an address of a few lines for the Assembly, determining to go there with her family, the officers of her palace, andher servants, if the King should be detained prisoner at Paris. She gotthis address by heart; it began with these words: "Gentlemen, I come toplace in your hands the wife and family of your sovereign; do not sufferthose who have been united in heaven to be put asunder on earth. " Whileshe was repeating this address she was often interrupted by tears, andsorrowfully exclaimed: "They will not let him return!"

It was past four when the King, who had left Versailles at ten in themorning, entered the Hotel de Ville. At length, at six in the evening, M. De Lastours, the King's first page, arrived; he was not half an hour incoming from the Barriere de la Conference to Versailles. Everybody knowsthat the moment of calm in Paris was that in which the unfortunatesovereign received the tricoloured cockade from M. Bailly, and placed itin his hat. A shout of "Vive le Roi!" arose on all sides; it had not beenonce uttered before. The King breathed again, and with tears in his eyesexclaimed that his heart stood in need of such greetings from the people. One of his equerries (M. De Cubieres) told him the people loved him, andthat he could never have doubted it. The King replied in accents ofprofound sensibility:

"Cubieres, the French loved Henri IV. , and what king ever better deservedto be beloved?"

[Louis XVI. Cherished the memory of Henri IV. : at that moment he thoughtof his deplorable end; but he long before regarded him as a model. Soulavie says on the subject: "A tablet with the inscription 'Resurrexit'placed upon the pedestal of Henri IV. 's statue on the accession of LouisXVI. Flattered him exceedingly. 'What a fine compliment, ' said he, 'if itwere true! Tacitus himself never wrote anything so concise or so happy. 'Louis XVI. Wished to take the reign of that Prince for a model. In thefollowing year the party that raised a commotion among the people onaccount of the dearness of corn removed the tablet inscribed Resurrexitfrom the statue of Henri IV. , and placed it under that of Louis XV. , whosememory was then detested, as he was believed to have traded on thescarcity of food. Louis XVI. , who was informed of it, withdrew into hisprivate apartments, where he was found in a fever shedding tears; andduring the whole of that day he could not be prevailed upon either todine, walk out, or sup. From this circumstance we may judge what heendured at the commencement of the Revolution, when he was accused of notloving the French people. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

His return to Versailles filled his family with inexpressible joy; in thearms of the Queen, his sister, and his children, he congratulated himselfthat no accident had happened; and he repeated several times, "Happily noblood has been shed, and I swear that never shall a drop of French bloodbe shed by my order, "--a determination full of humanity, but too openlyavowed in such factious times!

The King's last measure raised a hope in many that general tranquillitywould soon enable the Assembly to resume its, labours, and promptly bringits session to a close. The Queen never flattered herself so far; M. Bailly's speech to the King had equally wounded her pride and hurt herfeelings. "Henri IV. Conquered his people, and here are the peopleconquering their King. " The word "conquest" offended her; she neverforgave M. Bailly for this fine academical phrase. 

Five days after the King's visit to Paris, the departure of the troops, and the removal of the Princes and some of the nobility whose influenceseemed to alarm the people, a horrible deed committed by hired assassinsproved that the King had descended the steps of his throne without havingeffected a reconciliation with his people. 

M. Foulon, adjoint to the administration while M. De Broglie wascommanding the army assembled at Versailles, had concealed himself atViry. He was there recognised, and the peasants seized him, and draggedhim to the Hotel de Ville. The cry for death was heard; the electors, themembers of committee, and M. De La Fayette, at that time the idol ofParis, in vain endeavoured to save the unfortunate man. After tormentinghim in a manner which makes humanity shudder, his body was dragged aboutthe streets, and to the Palais Royal, and his heart was carried by womenin the midst of a bunch of white carnations! M. Berthier, M. Foulon'sson-in-law, intendant of Paris, was seized at Compiegne, at the same timethat his father-in-law was seized at Viry, and treated with still morerelentless cruelty. 

The Queen was always persuaded that this horrible deed was occasioned bysome indiscretion; and she informed me that M. Foulon had drawn up twomemorials for the direction of the King's conduct at the time of his beingcalled to Court on the removal of M. Necker; and that these memorialscontained two schemes of totally different nature for extricating the Kingfrom the dreadful situation in which he was placed. In the first of theseprojects M. Foulon expressed himself without reserve respecting thecriminal views of the Duc d'Orleans; said that he ought to be put underarrest, and that no time should be lost in commencing a prosecutionagainst him, while the criminal tribunals were still in existence; helikewise pointed out such deputies as should be apprehended, and advisedthe King not to separate himself from his army until order was restored. 

His other plan was that the King should make himself master of therevolution before its complete explosion; he advised his Majesty to go tothe Assembly, and there, in person, to demand the cahiers, and to makethe greatest sacrifices to satisfy the legitimate wishes of the people, and not to give the factious time to enlist them in aid of theircriminal designs. 

[Cahiers, the memorials or lists of complaints, grievances, andrequirements of the electors drawn up by the primary assemblies and sentwith the deputies. ]

Madame Adelaide had M. Foulon's two memorials read to her in thepresence of four or five persons. One of them, Comte Louis de Narbonne, was very intimate with Madame de Stael, and that intimacy gave the Queenreason to believe that the opposite party had gained information of M. Foulon's schemes. 

It is known that young Barnave, during an aberration of mind, sinceexpiated by sincere repentance, and even by death, uttered these atrociouswords: "Is then the blood now, flowing so pure?" when M. Berthier's soncame to the Assembly to implore the eloquence of M. De Lally to entreatthat body to save his father's life. I have since been informed that ason of M. Foulon, having returned to France after these first ebullitionsof the Revolution, saw Barnave, and gave him one of those memorials inwhich M. Foulon advised Louis XVI. To prevent the revolutionary explosionby voluntarily granting all that the Assembly required before the 14th ofJuly. "Read this memorial, " said he; "I have brought it to increase yourremorse: it is the only revenge I wish to inflict on you. " Barnave burstinto tears, and said to him all that the profoundest grief could dictate. 

CHAPTER II. 

After the 14th of July, by a manoeuvre for which the most skilful factionsof any age might have envied the Assembly, the whole population of Francewas armed and organised into a National Guard. A report was spreadthroughout France on the same day, and almost at the same hour, that fourthousand brigands were marching towards such towns or villages as it waswished to induce to take arms. Never was any plan better laid; terrorspread at the same moment all over the kingdom. In 1791 a peasant showedme a steep rock in the mountains of the Mont d'Or on which his wifeconcealed herself on the day when the four thousand brigands were toattack their village, and told me they had been obliged to make use ofropes to let her down from the height which fear alone had enabled her toclimb. 

Versailles was certainly the place where the national military uniformappeared most offensive. All the King's valets, even of the lowest class, were metamorphosed into lieutenants or captains; almost all the musiciansof the chapel ventured one day to make their appearance at the King's massin a military costume; and an Italian soprano adopted the uniform of agrenadier captain. The King was very much offended at this conduct, andforbade his servants to appear in his presence in so unsuitable a dress. 

The departure of the Duchesse de Polignac naturally left the Abbe deVermond exposed to all the dangers of favouritism. He was already talkedof as an adviser dangerous to the nation. The Queen was alarmed at it, and recommended him to remove to Valenciennes, where Count Esterhazy wasin command. He was obliged to leave that place in a few days and set offfor Vienna, where he remained. 

On the night of the 17th of July the Queen, being unable to sleep, made mewatch by her until three in the morning. I was extremely surprised tohear her say that it would be a very long time before the Abbe de Vermondwould make his appearance at Court again, even if the existing fermentshould subside, because he would not readily be forgiven for hisattachment to the Archbishop of Sens; and that she had lost in him a verydevoted servant. Then she suddenly remarked to me, that although he wasnot much prejudiced against me I could not have much regard for him, because he could not bear my father-in-law to hold the place of secretaryof the closet. She went on to say that I must have studied the Abbe'scharacter, and, as I had sometimes drawn her portraits of livingcharacters, in imitation of those which were fashionable in the time ofLouis XIV. , she desired me to sketch that of the Abbe, without anyreserve. My astonishment was extreme; the Queen spoke of the man who, theday before, had been in the greatest intimacy with her with the utmostcoolness, and as a person whom, perhaps, she might never see again! Iremained petrified; the Queen persisted, and told me that he had been theenemy of my family for more than twelve years, without having been able toinjure it in her opinion; so that I had no occasion to dread his return, however severely I might depict him. I promptly summarised my ideas aboutthe favourite; but I only remember that the portrait was drawn withsincerity, except that everything which could denote antipathy was keptout of it. I shall make but one extract from it: I said that he had beenborn talkative and indiscreet, and had assumed a character of singularityand abruptness in order to conceal those two failings. The Queeninterrupted me by saying, "Ah! how true that is!" I have since discoveredthat, notwithstanding the high favour which the Abbe de Vermond enjoyed, the Queen took precautions to guard herself against an ascendency theconsequences of which she could not calculate. 

On the death of my father-in-law his executors placed in my hands a boxcontaining a few jewels deposited by the Queen with M. Campan on thedeparture from Versailles of the 6th of October, and two sealed packets, each inscribed, "Campan will take care of these papers for me. " I tookthe two packets to her Majesty, who kept the jewels and the larger packet, and, returning me the smaller, said, "Take care of that for me as yourfather-in-law did. "

After the fatal 10th of August, 1792, --[The day of the attack on theTuileries, slaughter of the Swiss guard, and suspension of the King fromhis functions. ]--when my house was about to be surrounded, I determined toburn the most interesting papers of which I was the depositary; I thoughtit my duty, however, to open this packet, which it might perhaps benecessary for me to preserve at all hazards. I saw that it contained aletter from the Abbe de Vermond to the Queen. I have already related thatin the earlier days of Madame de Polignac's favour he determined to removefrom Versailles, and that the Queen recalled him by means of the Comte deMercy. This letter contained nothing but certain conditions for hisreturn; it was the most whimsical of treaties; I confess I greatlyregretted being under the necessity of destroying it. He reproached theQueen for her infatuation for the Comtesse Jules, her family, and society;and told her several truths about the possible consequences of afriendship which ranked that lady among the favourites of the Queens ofFrance, a title always disliked by the nation. He complained that hisadvice was neglected, and then came to the conditions of his return toVersailles; after strong assurances that he would never, in all his life, aim at the higher church dignities, he said that he delighted in anunbounded confidence; and that he asked but two things of her Majesty asessential: the first was, not to give him her orders through any thirdperson, and to write to him herself; he complained much that he had had noletter in her own hand since he had left Vienna; then he demanded of heran income of eighty thousand livres, in ecclesiastical benefices; andconcluded by saying that, if she condescended to assure him herself thatshe would set about procuring him what he wished, her letter would besufficient in itself to show him that her Majesty had accepted the twoconditions he ventured to make respecting his return. No doubt the letterwas written; at least it is very certain that the benefices were granted, and that his absence from Versailles lasted only a single week. 

In the course of July, 1789, the regiment of French guards, which had beenin a state of insurrection from the latter end of June, abandoned itscolours. One single company of grenadiers remained faithful, to its postat Versailles. M. Le Baron de Leval was the captain of this company. Hecame every evening to request me to give the Queen an account of thedisposition of his soldiers; but M. De La Fayette having sent them a note, they all deserted during the night and joined their comrades, who wereenrolled in the Paris guard; so that Louis XVI. On rising saw no guardwhatever at the various posts entrusted to them. 

The decrees of the 4th of August, by which all privileges were abolished, are well known. 

["It was during the night of the 4th of August, " says Rivarol, "that thedemagogues of the nobility, wearied with a protracted discussion upon therights of man, and burning to signalise their zeal, rose all at once, andwith loud exclamations called for the last sighs of the feudal system. This demand electrified the Assembly. All heads were frenzied. Theyounger sons of good families, having nothing, were delighted to sacrificetheir too fortunate elders upon the altar of the country; a few countrycures felt no less pleasure in renouncing the benefices of others; butwhat posterity will hardly believe is that the same enthusiasm infectedthe whole nobility; zeal walked hand in hand with malevolence; they madesacrifice upon sacrifice. And as in Japan the point of honour lies in aman's killing himself in the presence of the person who has offended him, so did the deputies of the nobility vie in striking at themselves andtheir constituents. The people who were present at this noble contestincreased the intoxication of their new allies by their shouts; and thedeputies of the commons, seeing that this memorable night would onlyafford them profit without honour, consoled their self-love by wonderingat what Nobility, grafted upon the Third Estate, could do. They namedthat night the 'night of dupes'; the nobles called it the 'night ofsacrifices'. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

The King sanctioned all that tended to the diminution of his own personalgratifications, but refused his consent to the other decrees of thattumultuous night; this refusal was one of the chief causes of the fermentsof the month of October. 

In the early part of September meetings were held at the Palais Royal, andpropositions made to go to Versailles; it was said to be necessary toseparate the King from his evil counsellors, and keep him, as well as theDauphin, at the Louvre. The proclamations by the officers of the communefor the restoration of tranquillity were ineffectual; but M. De La Fayettesucceeded this time in dispersing the populace. The Assembly declareditself permanent; and during the whole of September, in which no doubt thepreparations were made for the great insurrections of the following month, the Court was not disturbed. 

The King had the Flanders regiment removed to Versailles; unfortunatelythe idea of the officers of that regiment fraternising with the BodyGuards was conceived, and the latter invited the former to a dinner, whichwas given in the great theatre of Versailles, and not in the Salon ofHercules, as some chroniclers say. Boxes were appropriated to variouspersons who wished to be present at this entertainment. The Queen told meshe had been advised to make her appearance on the occasion, but thatunder existing circumstances she thought such a step might do more harmthan good; and that, moreover, neither she nor the King ought directly tohave anything to do with such a festival. She ordered me to go, anddesired me to observe everything closely, in order to give a faithfulaccount of the whole affair. 

The tables were set out upon the stage; at them were placed one of theBody Guard and an officer of the Flanders regiment alternately. There wasa numerous orchestra in the room, and the boxes were filled withspectators. The air, "O Richard, O mon Roi!" was played, and shouts of"Vive de Roi!" shook the roof for several minutes. I had with me one ofmy nieces, and a young person brought up with Madame by her Majesty. Theywere crying "Vive le Roi!" with all their might when a deputy of the ThirdEstate, who was in the next box to mine, and whom I had never seen, calledto them, and reproached them for their exclamations; it hurt him, he said, to see young and handsome Frenchwomen brought up in such servile habits, screaming so outrageously for the life of one man, and with truefanaticism exalting him in their hearts above even their dearestrelations; he told them what contempt worthy American women would feel onseeing Frenchwomen thus corrupted from their earliest infancy. My niecereplied with tolerable spirit, and I requested the deputy to put an end tothe subject, which could by no means afford him any satisfaction, inasmuchas the young persons who were with me lived, as well as myself, for thesole purpose of serving and loving the King. While I was speaking whatwas my astonishment at seeing the King, the Queen, and the Dauphin enterthe chamber! It was M. De Luxembourg who had effected this change in theQueen's determination. 

The enthusiasm became general; the moment their Majesties arrived theorchestra repeated the air I have just mentioned, and afterwards played asong in the "Deserter, " "Can we grieve those whom we love?" which alsomade a powerful impression upon those present: on all sides were heardpraises of their Majesties, exclamations of affection, expressions ofregret for what they had suffered, clapping of hands, and shouts of "Vivele Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive le Dauphin!" It has been said that whitecockades were worn on this occasion; that was not the case; the fact is, that a few young men belonging to the National Guard of Versailles, whowere invited to the entertainment, turned the white lining of theirnational cockades outwards. All the military men quitted the hall, andreconducted the King and his family to their apartments. There wasintoxication in these ebullitions of joy: a thousand extravagances werecommitted by the military, and many of them danced under the King'swindows; a soldier belonging to the Flanders regiment climbed up to thebalcony of the King's chamber in order to shout "Vive le Roi!" nearer hisMajesty; this very soldier, as I have been told by several officers of thecorps, was one of the first and most dangerous of their insurgents in theriots of the 5th and 6th of October. On the same evening another soldierof that regiment killed himself with a sword. One of my relations, chaplain to the Queen, who supped with me, saw him stretched out in acorner of the Place d'Armes; he went to him to give him spiritualassistance, and received his confession and his last sighs. He destroyedhimself out of regret at having suffered himself to be corrupted by theenemies of his King, and said that, since he had seen him and the Queenand the Dauphin, remorse had turned his brain. 

I returned home, delighted with all that I had seen. 

I found a great many people there. M. De Beaumetz, deputy for Arras, listened to my description with a chilling air, and, when I had finished, told me that all that had passed was terrific; that he knew thedisposition of the Assembly, and that the greatest misfortunes wouldfollow the drama of that night; and he begged my leave to withdraw that hemight take time for deliberate reflection whether he should on the verynext day emigrate, or pass over to the left side of the Assembly. Headopted the latter course, and never appeared again among my associates. 

On the 2d of October the military entertainment was followed up by abreakfast given at the hotel of the Body Guards. It is said that adiscussion took place whether they should not march against the Assembly;but I am utterly ignorant of what passed at that breakfast. From thatmoment Paris was constantly in commotion; there were continual mobs, andthe most virulent proposals were heard in all public places; theconversation was invariably about proceeding to Versailles. The King andQueen did not seem apprehensive of such a measure, and took no precautionagainst it; even when the army had actually left Paris, on the evening ofthe 5th of October, the King was shooting at Meudon, and the Queen wasalone in her gardens at Trianon, which she then beheld for the last timein her life. She was sitting in her grotto absorbed in painfulreflection, when she received a note from the Comte de Saint-Priest, entreating her to return to Versailles. M. De Cubieres at the same timewent off to request the King to leave his sport and return to the palace;the King did so on horseback, and very leisurely. A few minutesafterwards he was informed that a numerous body of women, which precededthe Parisian army, was at Chaville, at the entrance of the avenue fromParis. 

The scarcity of bread and the entertainment of the Body Guards were thepretexts for the insurrection of the 5th and 6th of October, 1789; but itis clear to demonstration that this new movement of the people was a partof the original plan of the factious, insomuch as, ever since thebeginning of September, a report had been industriously circulated thatthe King intended to withdraw, with his family and ministers, to somestronghold; and at all the popular assemblies there had been always agreat deal said about going to Versailles to seize the King. 

At first only women showed themselves; the latticed doors of the Chateauwere closed, and the Body Guard and Flanders regiment were drawn up in thePlace d'Armes. As the details of that dreadful day are given withprecision in several works, I will only observe that general consternationand disorder reigned throughout the interior of the palace. 

I was not in attendance on the Queen at this time. M. Campan remainedwith her till two in the morning. As he was leaving her shecondescendingly, and with infinite kindness, desired him to make me easyas to the dangers of the moment, and to repeat to me M. De La Fayette'sown words, which he had just used on soliciting the royal family to retireto bed, undertaking to answer for his army. 

The Queen was far from relying upon M. De La Fayette's loyalty; but shehas often told me that she believed on that day, that La Fayette, havingaffirmed to the King, in the presence of a crowd of witnesses, that hewould answer for the army of Paris, would not risk his honour as acommander, and was sure of being able to redeem his pledge. She alsothought the Parisian army was devoted to him, and that all he said abouthis being forced to march upon Versailles was mere pretence. 

On the first intimation of the march of the Parisians, the Comte deSaint-Priest prepared Rambouillet for the reception of the King, hisfamily, and suite, and the carriages were even drawn out; but a few criesof "Vive le Roi!" when the women reported his Majesty's favourableanswer, occasioned the intention of going away to be given up, and orderswere given to the troops to withdraw. 

[Compare this account with the particulars given in the "Memoirs" ofFerribres, Weber, Bailly, and Saint-Priest, from the latter of which thefollowing sentence is taken:

"M. D'Estaing knew not what to do with the Body Guards beyond bringingthem into the courtyard of the ministers, and shutting the grilles. Thence they proceeded to the terrace of the Chateau, then to Trianon, andlastly to Rambouillet. 

"I could not refrain from expressing to M. D'Estaing, when he came to theKing, my astonishment at not seeing him make any military disposition. 'Monsieur, ' replied he, 'I await the orders of the King' (who did not openhis mouth). 'When the King gives no orders, ' pursued I, 'a general shoulddecide for himself in a soldierly manner. ' This observation remainedunanswered. "]

The Body Guards were, however, assailed with stones and musketry whilethey were passing from the Place d'Armes to, their hotel. Alarm revived;again it was thought necessary that the royal family should go away; somecarriages still remained ready for travelling; they were called for; theywere stopped by a wretched player belonging to the theatre of the town, seconded by the mob: the opportunity for flight had been lost. 

The insurrection was directed against the Queen in particular; I shuddereven now at the recollection of the poissardes, or rather furies, who worewhite aprons, which they screamed out were intended to receive the bowelsof Marie Antoinette, and that they would make cockades of them, mixing themost obscene expressions with these horrible threats. 

The Queen went to bed at two in the morning, and even slept, tired outwith the events of so distressing a day. She had ordered her two women tobed, imagining there was nothing to dread, at least for that night; butthe unfortunate Princess was indebted for her life to that feeling ofattachment which prevented their obeying her. My sister, who was one ofthe ladies in question, informed me next day of all that I am about torelate. 

On leaving the Queen's bedchamber, these ladies called their femmes dechambre, and all four remained sitting together against her Majesty'sbedroom door. About half-past four in the morning they heard horribleyells and discharges of firearms; one ran to the Queen to awaken her andget her out of bed; my sister flew to the place from which the tumultseemed to proceed; she opened the door of the antechamber which leads tothe great guard-room, and beheld one of the Body Guard holding his musketacross the door, and attacked by a mob, who were striking at him; his facewas covered with blood; he turned round and exclaimed: "Save the Queen, madame; they are come to assassinate her!" She hastily shut the door uponthe unfortunate victim of duty, fastened it with the great bolt, and tookthe same precaution on leaving the next room. On reaching the Queen'schamber she cried out to her, "Get up, Madame! Don't stay to dressyourself; fly to the King's apartment!" The terrified Queen threw herselfout of bed; they put a petticoat upon her without tying it, and the twoladies conducted her towards the oile-de-boeuf. A door, which led fromthe Queen's dressing-room to that apartment, had never before beenfastened but on her side. What a dreadful moment! It was found to besecured on the other side. They knocked repeatedly with all theirstrength; a servant of one of the King's valets de chambre came and openedit; the Queen entered the King's chamber, but he was not there. Alarmedfor the Queen's life, he had gone down the staircases and through thecorridors under the oeil-de-boeuf, by means of which he was accustomed togo to the Queen's apartments without being under the necessity of crossingthat room. He entered her Majesty's room and found no one there but someBody Guards, who had taken refuge in it. The King, unwilling to exposetheir lives, told them to wait a few minutes, and afterwards sent todesire them to go to the oeil-de-boeuf. Madame de Tourzel, at that timegoverness of the children of France, had just taken Madame and the Dauphinto the King's apartments. The Queen saw her children again. The readermust imagine this scene of tenderness and despair. 

It is not true that the assassins penetrated to the Queen's chamber andpierced the bed with their swords. The fugitive Body Guards were the onlypersons who entered it; and if the crowd had reached so far they would allhave been massacred. Besides, when the rebels had forced the doors of theantechamber, the footmen and officers on duty, knowing that the Queen wasno longer in her apartments, told them so with that air of truth whichalways carries conviction. The ferocious horde instantly rushed towardsthe oeil-de-boeuf, hoping, no doubt, to intercept her on her way. 

Many have asserted that they recognised the Duc d'Orleans in a greatcoatand slouched hat, at half-past four in the morning, at the top of themarble staircase, pointing out with his hand the guard-room, which led tothe Queen's apartments. This fact was deposed to at the Chatelet byseveral individuals in the course of the inquiry instituted respecting thetransactions of the 5th and 6th of October. 

[The National Assembly was sitting when information of the march of theParisians was given to it by one of the deputies who came from Paris. Acertain number of the members were no strangers, to this movement. Itappears that Mirabeau wished to avail himself of it to raise the Ducd'Orleans to the throne. Mounier, who presided over the NationalAssembly, rejected the idea with horror. "My good man, " said Mirabeau tohim, "what difference will it make to you to have Louis XVII. For yourKing instead of Louis XVI. ?" (The Duc d'Orleans was baptised Louis. )]

The prudence and honourable feeling of several officers of the Parisianguards, and the judicious conduct of M. De Vaudreuil, lieutenant-generalof marine, and of M. De Chevanne, one of the King's Guards, brought aboutan understanding between the grenadiers of the National Guard of Paris andthe King's Guard. The doors of the oeil-de-boeuf were closed, and theantechamber which precedes that room was filled with grenadiers who wantedto get in to massacre the Guards. M. De Chevanne offered himself to themas a victim if they wished for one, and demanded what they would have. Areport had been spread through their ranks that the Body Guards set themat defiance, and that they all wore black cockades. M. De Chevanne showedthem that he wore, as did the corps, the cockade of their uniform; andpromised that the Guards should exchange it for that of the nation. Thiswas done; they even went so far as to exchange their grenadiers' caps forthe hats of the Body Guards; those who were on guard took off theirshoulder-belts; embraces and transports of fraternisation instantlysucceeded to the savage eagerness to murder the band which had shown somuch fidelity to its sovereign. The cry was now "Vivent le Roi, laNation, et les Gardes-du-corps!"

The army occupied the Place d'Armes, all the courtyards of the Chateau, and the entrance to the avenue. They called for the Queen to appear inthe balcony: she came forward with Madame and the Dauphin. There was acry of "No children!" Was this with a view to deprive her of the interestshe inspired, accompanied as she was by her young family, or did theleaders of the democrats hope that some madman would venture to aim amortal blow at her person? The unfortunate Princess certainly wasimpressed with the latter idea, for she sent away her children, and withher hands and eyes raised towards heaven, advanced upon the balcony like aself-devoted victim. 

A few voices shouted "To Paris!" The exclamation soon became general. Before the King agreed to this removal he wished to consult the NationalAssembly, and caused that body to be invited to sit at the Chateau. Mirabeau opposed this measure. While these discussions were going forwardit became more and more difficult to restrain the immense disorderlymultitude. The King, without consulting any one, now said to the people:"You wish, my children, that I should follow you to Paris: I consent, buton condition that I shall not be separated from my wife and family. " TheKing added that he required safety also for his Guards; he was answered byshouts of "Vivo le Roi! Vivent les Gardes-du-corps!" The Guards, withtheir hats in the air, turned so as to exhibit the cockade, shouted "Vivele Roi! Vive la Nation!" shortly afterwards a general discharge of allthe muskets took place, in token of joy. The King and Queen set off fromVersailles at one o'clock. The Dauphin, Madame, the King's daughter, Monsieur, Madame, --[Madame, here, the wife of Monsieur le Comte deProvence. ]--Madame Elisabeth, and Madame de Tourzel, were in the carriage;the Princesse de Chimay and the ladies of the bedchamber for the week, theKing's suite and servants, followed in Court carriages; a hundred deputiesin carriages, and the bulk of the Parisian army, closed the procession. 

The poissardes went before and around the carriage of their Majesties, Crying, "We shall no longer want bread! We have the baker, the baker'swife, and the baker's boy with us!" In the midst of this troop ofcannibals the heads of two murdered Body Guards were carried on poles. Themonsters, who made trophies of them, conceived the horrid idea of forcinga wigmaker of Sevres to dress them up and powder their bloody locks. Theunfortunate man who was forced to perform this dreadful work died inconsequence of the shock it gave him. 

[The King did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The Queen, theDauphin, Madame Royale, Monsieur, Madame Elisabeth, and Madame de Tourzelwere in his Majesty's carriage. The hundred deputies in their carriagescame next. A detachment of brigands, bearing the heads of the two BodyGuards in triumph, formed the advance guard, and set out two hoursearlier. These cannibals stopped a moment at Sevres, and carried theircruelty to the length of forcing an unfortunate hairdresser to dress thegory heads; the bulk of the Parisian army followed them closely. TheKing's carriage was preceded by the 'poissardes', who had arrived the daybefore from Paris, and a rabble of prostitutes, the vile refuse of theirsex, still drunk with fury and wine. Several of them rode astride uponcannons, boasting, in the most horrible songs, of the crimes they hadcommitted themselves, or seen others commit. Those who were nearest theKing's carriage sang ballads, the allusions in which by means of theirvulgar gestures they applied to the Queen. Wagons, full of corn andflour, --which had been brought into Versailles, formed a train escorted bygrenadiers, and surrounded by women and bullies, some armed with pikes, and some carrying long branches of poplar. At some distance this part ofthe procession had a most singular effect: it looked like a moving forest, amidst which shone pike-heads and gun-barrels. In the paroxysms of theirbrutal joy the women stopped passengers, and, pointing to the King'scarriage, howled in their ears: "Cheer up, friends; we shall no longer bein want of bread! We bring you the baker, the baker's wife, and thebaker's little boy!" Behind his Majesty's carriage were several of hisfaithful Guards, some on foot, and some on horseback, most of themuncovered, all unarmed, and worn out with hunger and fatigue; thedragoons, the Flanders regiment, the hundred Swiss, and the NationalGuards preceded, accompanied, or followed the file of carriages. Iwitnessed this heartrending spectacle; I saw the ominous procession. Inthe midst of all the tumult, clamour, and singing, interrupted by frequentdischarges of musketry, which the hand of a monster or a bungler might soeasily render fatal, I saw the Queen preserving most courageoustranquillity of soul, and an air of nobleness and inexpressible dignity, and my eyes were suffused with tears of admiration and grief. --"Memoirs ofBertrand de Molleville. "]

The progress of the procession was so slow that it was near six in theevening when this august family, made prisoners by their own people, arrived at the Hotel de Ville. Bailly received them there; they wereplaced upon a throne, just when that of their ancestors had beenoverthrown. The King spoke in a firm yet gracious manner; he said that healways came with pleasure and confidence among the inhabitants of his goodcity of Paris. M. Bailly repeated this observation to the representativesof the commune, who came to address the King; but he forgot the wordconfidence. The Queen instantly and loudly reminded him of the omission. The King and Queen, their children, and Madame Elisabeth, retired to theTuileries. Nothing was ready for their reception there. All theliving-rooms had been long given up to persons belonging to the Court;they hastily quitted them on that day, leaving their furniture, which waspurchased by the Court. The Comtesse de la Marck, sister to the Marechauxde Noailles and de Mouchy, had occupied the apartments now appropriated tothe Queen. Monsieur and Madame retired to the Luxembourg. 

The Queen had sent for me on the morning of the 6th of October, to leaveme and my father-in-law in charge of her most valuable property. She tookaway only her casket of diamonds. Comte Gouvernet de la Tour-du-Pin, towhom the military government of Versailles was entrusted 'pro tempore', came and gave orders to the National Guard, which had taken possession ofthe apartments, to allow us to remove everything that we should deemnecessary for the Queen's accommodation. 

I saw her Majesty alone in her private apartments a moment before herdeparture for Paris; she could hardly speak; tears bedewed her face, towhich all the blood in her body seemed to have rushed; she condescended toembrace me, gave her hand to M. Campan to kiss, and said to us, "Comeimmediately and settle at Paris; I will lodge you at the Tuileries; come, and do not leave me henceforward; faithful servants at moments like thesebecome useful friends; we are lost, dragged away, perhaps to death; whenkings become prisoners they are very near it. "

I had frequent opportunities during the course of our misfortunes ofobserving that the people never entirely give their allegiance to factiousleaders, but easily escape their control when some cause reminds them oftheir duty. As soon as the most violent Jacobins had an opportunity ofseeing the Queen near at hand, of speaking to her, and of hearing hervoice, they became her most zealous partisans; and even when she was inthe prison of the Temple several of those who had contributed to place herthere perished for having attempted to get her out again. 

On the morning of the 7th of October the same women who the day beforesurrounded the carriage of the august prisoners, riding on cannons anduttering the most abusive language, assembled under the Queen's windows, upon the terrace of the Chateau, and desired to see her. Her Majestyappeared. There are always among mobs of this description orators, thatis to say, beings who have more assurance than the rest; a woman of thisdescription told the Queen that she must now remove far from her all suchcourtiers as ruin kings, and that she must love the inhabitants of hergood city. The Queen answered that she had loved them at Versailles, andwould likewise love them at Paris. "Yes, yes, " said another; "but on the14th of July you wanted to besiege the city and have it bombarded; and onthe 6th of October you wanted to fly to the frontiers. " The Queenreplied, affably, that they had been told so, and had believed it; thatthere lay the cause of the unhappiness of the people and of the best ofkings. A third addressed a few words to her in German: the Queen told hershe did not understand it; that she had become so entirely French as evento have forgotten her mother tongue. This declaration was answered with"Bravo!" and clapping of hands; they then desired her to make a compactwith them. "Ah, " said she, "how can I make a compact with you, since youhave no faith in that which my duty points out to me, and which I oughtfor my own happiness to respect?" They asked her for the ribbons andflowers out of her hat; her Majesty herself unfastened them and gave them;they were divided among the party, which for above half an hour cried out, without ceasing, "Marie Antoinette for ever! Our good Queen for ever!"

Two days after the King's arrival at Paris, the city and the NationalGuard sent to request the Queen to appear at the theatre, and prove by herpresence and the King's that it was with pleasure they resided in theircapital. I introduced the deputation which came to make this request. Her Majesty replied that she should have infinite pleasure in acceding tothe invitation of the city of Paris; but that time must be allowed her tosoften the recollection of the distressing events which had just occurred, and from which she had suffered too much. She added, that having comeinto Paris preceded by the heads of the faithful Guards who had perishedbefore the door of their sovereign, she could not think that such an entryinto the capital ought to be followed by rejoicings; but that thehappiness she had always felt in appearing in the midst of the inhabitantsof Paris was not effaced from her memory, and that she should enjoy itagain as soon as she found herself able to do so. 

Their Majesties found some consolation in their private life: fromMadame's--[Madame, here, the Princesse Marie Therese, daughter of MarieAntoinette. ]--gentle manners and filial affection, from theaccomplishments and vivacity of the little Dauphin, and the attention andtenderness of the pious Princess Elisabeth, they still derived moments ofhappiness. The young Prince daily gave proofs of sensibility andpenetration; he was not yet beyond female care, but a private tutor, theAbbe Davout, gave him all the instruction suitable to his age; his memorywas highly cultivated, and he recited verses with much grace and feeling. 

[On the 19th of October, that is to say, thirteen days after he had takenup his abode at Paris, the King went, on foot and almost alone, to reviewsome detachments of the National Guard. After the review Louis XVI. Metwith a child sweeping the street, who asked him for money. The childcalled the King "M. Le Chevalier. " His Majesty gave him six francs. Thelittle sweeper, surprised at receiving so large a sum, cried out, "Oh! Ihave no change; you will give me money another time. " A person whoaccompanied the monarch said to the child, "Keep it all, my friend; thegentleman is not chevalier, he is the eldest of the family. "--NOTE BY THEEDITOR. ]

The day after the arrival of the Court at Paris, terrified at hearing somenoise in the gardens of the Tuileries, the young prince threw himself intothe arms of the Queen, crying out, "Grand-Dieu, mamma! will it beyesterday over again?" A few days after this affecting exclamation, hewent up to the King, and looked at him with a pensive air. The King askedhim what he wanted; he answered, that he had something very serious to sayto him. The King having prevailed on him to explain himself, the youngPrince asked why his people, who formerly loved him so well, were all atonce angry with him; and what he had done to irritate them so much. Hisfather took him upon his knees, and spoke to him nearly as follows: "Iwished, child, to render the people still happier than they were; I wantedmoney to pay the expenses occasioned by wars. I asked my people formoney, as my predecessors have always done; magistrates, composing theParliament, opposed it, and said that my people alone had a right toconsent to it. I assembled the principal inhabitants of every town, whether distinguished by birth, fortune, or talents, at Versailles; thatis what is called the States General. When they were assembled theyrequired concessions of me which I could not make, either with due respectfor myself or with justice to you, who will be my successor; wicked meninducing the people to rise have occasioned the excesses of the last fewdays; the people must not be blamed for them. "

The Queen made the young Prince clearly comprehend that he ought to treatthe commanders of battalions, the officers of the National Guard, and allthe Parisians who were about him, with affability; the child took greatpains to please all those people, and when he had had an opportunity ofreplying obligingly to the mayor or members of the commune he came andwhispered in his mother's ear, "Was that right?"

He requested M. Bailly to show him the shield of Scipio, which is in theroyal library; and M. Bailly asking him which he preferred, Scipio orHannibal, the young Prince replied, without hesitation, that he preferredhim who had defended his own country. He gave frequent proofs of readywit. One day, while the Queen was hearing Madame repeat her exercises inancient history, the young Princess could not at the moment recollect thename of the Queen of Carthage; the Dauphin was vexed at his sister's wantof memory, and though he never spoke to her in the second person singular, he bethought himself of the expedient of saying to her, "But 'dis donc'the name of the Queen, to mamma; 'dis donc' what her name was. "

Shortly after the arrival of the King and his family at Paris the Duchessede Luynes came, in pursuance of the advice of a committee of theConstitutional Assembly, to propose to the Queen a temporary retirementfrom France, in order to leave the constitution to perfect itself, so thatthe patriots should not accuse her of influencing the King to oppose it. The Duchess knew how far the schemes of the conspirers extended, and herattachment to the Queen was the principal cause of the advice she gaveher. The Queen perfectly comprehended the Duchesse de Luynes's motive;but replied that she would never leave either the King or her son; that ifshe thought herself alone obnoxious to public hatred she would instantlyoffer her life as a sacrifice;--but that it was the throne which was aimedat, and that, in abandoning the King, she should be merely committing anact of cowardice, since she saw no other advantage in it than that ofsaving her own life. 

One evening, in the month of November, 1790, I returned home rather late;I there found the Prince de Poix; he told me he came to request me toassist him in regaining his peace of mind; that at the commencement of thesittings of the National Assembly he had suffered himself to be seducedinto the hope of a better order of things; that he blushed for his error, and that he abhorred plans which had already produced such fatal results;that he broke with the reformers for the rest of his life; that he hadgiven in his resignation as a deputy of the National Assembly; and, finally, that he was anxious that the Queen should not sleep in ignoranceof his sentiments. I undertook his commission, and acquitted myself of itin the best way I could; but I was totally unsuccessful. The Prince dePoix remained at Court; he there suffered many mortifications, neverceasing to serve the King in the most dangerous commissions with that zealfor which his house has always been distinguished. 

When the King, the Queen, and the children were suitably established atthe Tuileries, as well as Madame Elisabeth and the Princesse de Lamballe, the Queen resumed her usual habits; she employed her mornings insuperintending the education of Madame, who received all her lessons inher presence, and she herself began to work large pieces of tapestry. Hermind was too much occupied with passing events and surrounding dangers toadmit her of applying herself to reading; the needle was the onlyemployment which could divert her. 

[There was long preserved at Paris, in the house of MademoiselleDubuquois, a tapestry-worker, a carpet worked by the Queen and MadameElisabeth for the large room of her Majesty's ground-floor apartments atthe Tuileries. The Empress Josephine saw and admired this carpet, anddesired it might be taken care of, in the hope of one day sending it toMadame--MADAME CAMPAN. ]

She received the Court twice a week before going to mass, and on thosedays dined in public with the King; she spent the rest of the time withher family and children; she had no concert, and did not go to the playuntil 1791, after the acceptation of the constitution. The Princesse deLamballe, however, had some evening parties in her apartments at theTuileries, which were tolerably brilliant in consequence of the greatnumber of persons who attended them. The Queen was present at a few ofthese assemblies; but being soon convinced that her present situationforbade her appearing much in public, she remained at home, and conversedas she sat at work. The sole topic of her discourse was, as may well besupposed, the Revolution. She sought to discover the real opinions of theParisians respecting her, and how she could have so completely lost theaffections of the people, and even of many persons in the higher ranks. She well knew that she ought to impute the whole to the spirit of party, to the hatred of the Duc d'Orleans, and the folly of the French, whodesired to have a total change in the constitution; but she was not theless desirous of ascertaining the private feelings of all the people inpower. 

From the very commencement of the Revolution General Luckner indulged inviolent sallies against her. Her Majesty, knowing that I was acquaintedwith a lady who had been long connected with the General, desired me todiscover through that channel what was the private motive on whichLuckner's hatred against her was founded. On being questioned upon thispoint, he answered that Marechal de Segur had assured him he had proposedhim for the command of a camp of observation, but that the Queen had madea bar against his name; and that this 'par', as he called it, in hisGerman accent, he could not forget. 

The Queen ordered me to repeat this reply to the King myself, and said tohim: "See, Sire, whether I was not right in telling you that yourministers, in order to give themselves full scope in the distribution offavours, persuaded the French that I interfered in everything; there wasnot a single license given out in the country for the sale of salt ortobacco but the people believed it was given to one of my favourites. "

"That is very, true, " replied the King; "but I find it very difficult tobelieve that Marechal de Segur ever said any such thing to Luckner; heknew too well that you never interfered in the distribution of favours. 

"That Luckner is a good-for-nothing fellow, and Segur is a brave andhonourable man who never uttered such a falsehood; however, you are right;and because you provided for a few dependents, you are most unjustlyreported to have disposed of all offices, civil and military. "

All the nobility who had not left Paris made a point of presentingthemselves assiduously to the King, and there was a considerable influx tothe Tuileries. Marks of attachment were exhibited even in externalsymbols; the women wore enormous bouquets of lilies in their bosoms andupon their heads, and sometimes even bunches of white ribbon. At the playthere were often disputes between the pit and the boxes about removingthese ornaments, which the people thought dangerous emblems. Nationalcockades were sold in every corner of Paris; the sentinels stopped all whodid not wear them; the young men piqued themselves upon breaking throughthis regulation, which was in some degree sanctioned by the acquiescenceof Louis XVI. Frays took place, which were to be regretted, because theyexcited a spirit of lawlessness. The King adopted conciliatory measureswith the Assembly in order to promote tranquillity; the revolutionistswere but little disposed to think him sincere; unfortunately the royalistsencouraged this incredulity by incessantly repeating that the King was notfree, and that all that he did was completely null, and in no way boundhim for the time to come. Such was the heat and violence of party spiritthat persons the most sincerely attached to the King were not evenpermitted to use the language of reason, and recommend greater reserve inconversation. People would talk and argue at table without consideringthat all the servants belonged to the hostile army; and it may truly besaid there was as much imprudence and levity in the party assailed asthere was cunning, boldness, and perseverance in that which made theattack. 

CHAPTER III. 

In February, 1790, another matter gave the Court much uneasiness; azealous individual of the name of Favras had conceived the scheme ofcarrying off the King, and affecting a counter-revolution. Monsieur, probably out of mere benevolence, gave him some money, and thence arose areport that he thereby wished to favour the execution of the enterprise. The step taken by Monsieur in going to the Hotel de Ville to explainhimself on this matter was unknown to the Queen; it is more than probablethat the King was acquainted with it. When judgment was pronounced uponM. De Favras the Queen did not conceal from me her fears about theconfessions of the unfortunate man in his last moments. 

I sent a confidential person to the Hotel de Ville; she came to inform theQueen that the condemned had demanded to be taken from Notre-Dame to theHotel de Ville to make a final declaration, and give some particularsverifying it. These particulars compromised nobody; Favras corrected hislast will after writing it, and went to the scaffold with heroic courageand coolness. The judge who read his condemnation to him told him thathis life was a sacrifice which he owed to public tranquillity. It wasasserted at the time that Favras was given up as a victim in order tosatisfy the people and save the Baron de Besenval, who was a prisoner inthe Abbaye. 

[Thomas Mahy, Marquis de Favras, was accused in the month of December, 1789, of having conspired against the Revolution. Having been arrested byorder of the committee of inquiry of the National Assembly, he wastransferred to the Chatelet, where he defended himself with much coolnessand presence of mind, repelling the accusations brought against him byMorel, Turcati, and Marquis, with considerable force. These witnessesdeclared he had imparted his plan to them; it was to be carried intoexecution by 12, 000 Swiss and 12, 000 Germans, who were to be assembled atMontargis, thence to march upon Paris, carry off the King, and assassinateBailly, La Fayette, and Necker. The greater number of these charges hedenied, and declared that the rest related only to the levy of a troopintended to favour the revolution preparing in Brabant. The judge havingrefused to disclose who had denounced him, he complained to the Assembly, which passed to the order of the day. His death was obviously inevitable. During the whole time of the proceedings the populace never ceasedthreatening the judges and shouting, "A la lanterne!" It was evennecessary to keep numerous troops and artillery constantly ready to act inthe courtyard of the Chatelet. The judges, who had just acquitted M. DeBesenval in an affair nearly similar, doubtless dreaded the effects ofthis fury. When they refused to hear Favras's witnesses in exculpation, he compared them to the tribunal of the Inquisition. The principal chargeagainst him was founded on a letter from M. De Foucault, asking him, "where are your troops? in which direction will they enter Paris? Ishould like to be employed among them. " Favras was condemned to make the'amende honorable' in front of the Cathedral, and to be hanged at thePlace de Greve. He heard this sentence with wonderful calmness, and saidto his judges, "I pity you much if the testimony of two men is sufficientto induce you to condemn. " The judge having said to him, "I have no otherconsolation to hold out to you than that which religion affords, " hereplied, nobly, "My greatest consolation is that which I derive from myinnocence. "--"Biographic Universelle"]

On the morning of the Sunday following this execution M. De la Villeurnoycame to my house to tell me that he was going that day to the publicdinner of the King and Queen to present Madame de Favras and her son, bothof them in mourning for the brave Frenchman who fell a sacrifice for hisKing; and that all the royalists expected to see the Queen load theunfortunate family with favours. I did all that lay in my power toprevent this proceeding. I foresaw the effect it would have upon theQueen's feeling heart, and the painful constraint she would experience, having the horrible Santerre, the commandant of a battalion of theParisian guard, behind her chair during dinner-time. I could not make M. De la Villeurnoy comprehend my argument; the Queen was gone to mass, surrounded by her whole Court, and I had not even means of apprising herof his intention. 

When dinner was over I heard a knocking at the door of my apartment, whichopened into the corridor next that of the Queen; it was herself. She askedme whether there was anybody with me; I was alone; she threw herself intoan armchair, and told me she came to weep with me over the foolish conductof the ultras of the King's party. "We must fall, " said she, "attacked aswe are by men who possess every talent and shrink from no crime, while weare defended only by those who are no doubt very estimable, but have noadequate idea of our situation. They have exposed me to the animosity ofboth parties by presenting the widow and son of Favras to me. Were I freeto act as I wish, I should take the child of the man who has justsacrificed himself for us and place him at table between the King andmyself; but surrounded by the assassins who have destroyed his father, Idid not dare even to cast my eyes upon him. The royalists will blame mefor not having appeared interested in this poor child; the revolutionistswill be enraged at the idea that his presentation should have been thoughtagreeable to me. " However, the Queen added that she knew Madame de Favraswas in want, and that she desired me to send her next day, through aperson who could be relied on, a few rouleaus of fifty Louis, and todirect that she should be assured her Majesty would always watch over thefortunes of herself and her son. 

In the month of March following I had an opportunity of ascertaining theKing's sentiments respecting the schemes which were continually proposedto him for making his escape. One night about ten o'clock Comted'Inisdal, who was deputed by the nobility, came to request that I wouldsee him in private, as he had an important matter to communicate to me. Hetold me that on that very night the King was to be carried off; that thesection of the National Guard, that day commanded by M. D'Aumont, wasgained over, and that sets of horses, furnished by some good royalists, were placed in relays at suitable distances; that he had just left anumber of the nobility assembled for the execution of this scheme, andthat he had been sent to me that I might, through the medium of the Queen, obtain the King's positive consent to it before midnight; that the Kingwas aware of their plan, but that his Majesty never would speak decidedly, and that it was necessary he should consent to the undertaking. I greatlydispleased Comte d'Inisdal by expressing my astonishment that the nobilityat the moment of the execution of so important a project should send tome, the Queen's first woman, to obtain a consent which ought to have beenthe basis of any well-concerted scheme. I told him, also, that it wouldbe impossible for me to go at that time to the Queen's apartments withoutexciting the attention of the people in the antechambers; that the Kingwas at cards with the Queen and his family, and that I never broke in upontheir privacy unless I was called for. I added, however, that M. Campancould enter without being called; and if the Count chose to give him hisconfidence he might rely upon him. 

My father-in-law, to whom Comte d'Inisdal repeated what he had said to me, took the commission upon himself, and went to the Queen's apartments. TheKing was playing at whist with the Queen, Monsieur, and Madame; MadameElisabeth was kneeling on a stool near the table. M. Campan informed theQueen of what had been communicated to me; nobody uttered a word. TheQueen broke silence and said to the King, "Do you hear, Sire, what Campansays to us?"--"Yes, I hear, " said the King, and continued his game. Monsieur, who was in the habit of introducing passages from plays into hisconversation, said to my father-in-law, "M. Campan, that pretty littlecouplet again, if you please;" and pressed the King to reply. At lengththe Queen said, "But something must be said to Campan. " The King thenspoke to my father-in-law in these words: "Tell M. D'Inisdal that I cannotconsent to be carried off!" The Queen enjoined M. Campan to take careand, report this answer faithfully. "You understand, " added she, "theKing cannot consent to be carried off. "

Comte d'Inisdal was very much dissatisfied with the King's answer, andwent out, saying, "I understand; he wishes to throw all the blame, beforehand, upon those who are to devote themselves for him. "

He went away, and I thought the enterprise would be abandoned. However, the Queen remained alone with me till midnight, preparing her cases ofvaluables, and ordered me not to go to bed. She imagined the King'sanswer would be understood as a tacit consent, and merely a refusal toparticipate in the design. I do not know what passed in the King'sapartments during the night; but I occasionally looked out at the windows:I saw the garden clear; I heard no noise in the palace, and day at lengthconfirmed my opinion that the project had been given up. "We must, however, fly, " said the Queen to me, shortly afterwards; "who knows howfar the factious may go? The danger increases every day. "

[The disturbances of the 13th of April, 1790, occasioned by the warmth ofthe discussions upon Dom Gerle's imprudent motion in the NationalAssembly, having afforded room for apprehension that the enemies of thecountry would endeavour to carry off the King from the capital, M. De LaFayette promised to keep watch, and told Louis XVI. That if he saw anyalarming movement among the disaffected he would give him notice of it bythe discharge of a cannon from Henri IV. 's battery on the Pont Neuf. Onthe same night a few casual discharges of musketry were heard from theterrace of the Tuileries. The King, deceived by the noise, flew to theQueen's apartments; he did not find her; he ran to the Dauphin's room, where he found the Queen holding her son in her arms. "Madame;" said theKing to her, "I have been seeking you; and you have made me uneasy. " TheQueen, showing her son, said to him, "I was at my post. "--"Anecdotes ofthe Reign of Louis XVI. "]

This Princess received advice and memorials from all quarters. Rivaroladdressed several to her, which I read to her. They were full ofingenious observations; but the Queen did not find that they, containedanything of essential service under the circumstances in which the royalfamily was placed. Comte du Moustier also sent memorials and plans ofconduct. I remember that in one of his writings he said to the King, "Read 'Telemachus' again, Sire; in that book which delighted your Majestyin infancy you will find the first seeds of those principles which, erroneously followed up by men of ardent imaginations, are bringing on theexplosion we expect every moment. " I read so many of these memorials thatI could hardly give a faithful account of them, and I am determined tonote in this work no other events than such as I witnessed; no other wordsthan such as (notwithstanding the lapse of time) still in some measurevibrate in my ears. 

Comte de Segur, on his return from Russia, was employed some time by theQueen, and had a certain degree of influence over her; but that did notlast long. Comte Augustus de la Marck likewise endeavoured to negotiatefor the King's advantage with the leaders of the factious. M. DeFontanges, Archbishop of Toulouse, possessed also the Queen's confidence;but none of the endeavours which were made on the spot produced any, beneficial result. The Empress Catherine II. Also conveyed her opinionupon the situation of Louis XVI. To the Queen, and her Majesty made meread a few lines in the Empress's own handwriting, which concluded withthese words:

"Kings ought to proceed in their career undisturbed by the cries of thepeople, even as the moon pursues her course unimpeded by the baying ofdogs. " This maxim of the despotic sovereign of Russia was veryinapplicable to the situation of a captive king. 

Meanwhile the revolutionary party followed up its audacious enterprise ina determined manner, without meeting any opposition. The advice fromwithout, as well from Coblentz as from Vienna, made various impressionsupon the members of the royal family, and those cabinets were not inaccordance with each other. I often had reason to infer from what theQueen said to me that she thought the King, by leaving all the honour ofrestoring order to the Coblentz party, --[The Princes and the chief of theemigrant nobility assembled at Coblentz, and the name was used todesignate the reactionary party. ]--would, on the return of the emigrants, be put under a kind of guardianship which would increase his ownmisfortunes. She frequently said to me, "If the emigrants succeed, theywill rule the roast for a long time; it will be impossible to refuse themanything; to owe the crown to them would be contracting too great anobligation. " It always appeared to me that she wished her own family tocounterbalance the claims of the emigrants by disinterested services. Shewas fearful of M. De Calonne, and with good reason. She had proof thatthis minister was her bitterest enemy, and that he made use of the mostcriminal means in order to blacken her reputation. I can testify that Ihave seen in the hands of the Queen a manuscript copy of the infamousmemoirs of the woman De Lamotte, which had been brought to her fromLondon, and in which all those passages where a total ignorance of thecustoms of Courts had occasioned that wretched woman to make blunderswhich would have been too palpable were corrected in M. De Calonne's ownhandwriting. 

The two King's Guards who were wounded at her Majesty's door on the 6th ofOctober were M. Du Repaire and M. De Miomandre de Sainte-Marie; on thedreadful night of the 6th of October the latter took the post of theformer the moment he became incapable of maintaining it. 

A considerable number of the Body Guards, who were wounded on the 6th ofOctober, betook themselves to the infirmary at Versailles. The brigandswanted to make their way into the infirmary in order to massacre them. M. Viosin, head surgeon of that infirmary, ran to the entrance hall, invitedthe assailants to refresh themselves, ordered wine to be brought, andfound means to direct the Sister Superior to remove the Guards into a wardappropriated to the poor, and dress them in the caps and greatcoatsfurnished by the institution. The good sisters executed this order sopromptly that the Guards were removed, dressed as paupers, and their bedsmade, while the assassins were drinking. They searched all the wards, andfancied they saw no persons there but the sick poor; thus the Guards weresaved. 

M. De Miomandre was at Paris, living on terms of friendship with anotherof the Guards, who, on the same day, received a gunshot wound from thebrigands in another part of the Chateau. These two officers, who wereattended and cured together at the infirmary of Versailles, were almostconstant companions; they were recognised at the Palais Royal, andinsulted. The Queen thought it necessary for them to quit Paris. Shedesired me to write to M. De Miomandre de Sainte-Marie, and tell him tocome to me at eight o'clock in the evening; and then to communicate to himher wish to hear of his being in safety; and ordered me, when he had madeup his mind to go, to tell him in her name that gold could not repay sucha service as he had rendered; that she hoped some day to be insufficiently happy circumstances to recompense him as she ought; but thatfor the present her offer of money was only that of a sister to a brothersituated as he then was, and that she requested he would take whatevermight be necessary to discharge his debts at Paris and defray the expensesof his journey. She told me also to desire he would bring his friendBertrand with him, and to make him the same offer. 

The two Guards came at the appointed hour, and accepted, I think, each oneor two hundred louis. A moment afterwards the Queen opened my door; shewas accompanied by the King and Madame Elisabeth; the King stood with hisback against the fireplace; the Queen sat down upon a sofa and MadameElisabeth sat near her; I placed myself behind the Queen, and the twoGuards stood facing the King. The Queen told them that the King wished tosee before they went away two of the brave men who had afforded him thestrongest proofs of courage and attachment. Miomandre said all that theQueen's affecting observations were calculated to inspire. MadameElisabeth spoke of the King's gratitude; the Queen resumed the subject oftheir speedy departure, urging the necessity of it; the King was silent;but his emotion was evident, and his eyes were suffused with tears. TheQueen rose, the King went out, and Madame Elisabeth followed him; theQueen stopped and said to me, in the recess of a window, "I am sorry Ibrought the King here! I am sure Elisabeth thinks with me; if the Kinghad but given utterance to a fourth part of what he thinks of those bravemen they would have been in ecstacies; but he cannot overcome hisdiffidence. "

The Emperor Joseph died about this time. The Queen's grief was notexcessive; that brother of whom she had been so proud, and whom she hadloved so tenderly, had probably suffered greatly in her opinion; shereproached him sometimes, though with moderation, for having adoptedseveral of the principles of the new philosophy, and perhaps she knew thathe looked upon our troubles with the eye of the sovereign of Germanyrather than that of the brother of the Queen of France. 

The Emperor on one occasion sent the Queen an engraving which representedunfrocked nuns and monks. The first were trying on fashionable dresses, the latter were having their hair arranged; the picture was always left inthe closet, and never hung up. The Queen told me to have it taken away;for she was hurt to see how much influence the philosophers had over herbrother's mind and actions. 

Mirabeau had not lost the hope of becoming the last resource of theoppressed Court; and at this time some communications passed between theQueen and him. The question was about an office to be conferred upon him. This transpired, and it must have been about this period that the Assemblydecreed that no deputy could hold an office as a minister of the Kinguntil the expiration of two years after the cessation of his legislativefunctions. I know that the Queen was much hurt at this decision, andconsidered that the Court had lost a promising opening. 

The palace of the Tuileries was a very disagreeable residence during thesummer, which made the Queen wish to go to St. Cloud. The removal wasdecided on without any opposition; the National Guard of Paris followedthe Court thither. At this period new opportunities of escape werepresented; nothing would have been more easy than to execute them. TheKing had obtained leave (!) to go out without guards, and to beaccompanied only by an aide-de-camp of M. De La Fayette. The Queen alsohad one on duty with her, and so had the Dauphin. The King and Queenoften went out at four in the afternoon, and did not return until eight ornine. 

I will relate one of the plans of emigration which the Queen communicatedto me, the success of which seemed infallible. The royal family were tomeet in a wood four leagues from St. Cloud; some persons who could befully relied on were to accompany the King, who was always followed by hisequerries and pages; the Queen was to join him with her daughter andMadame Elisabeth. These Princesses, as well as the Queen, had equerriesand pages, of whose fidelity no doubt could be entertained. The Dauphinlikewise was to be at the place of rendezvous with Madame de Tourzel; alarge berlin and a chaise for the attendants were sufficient for the wholefamily; the aides-de-camp were to have been gained over or mastered. TheKing was to leave a letter for the President of the National Assembly onhis bureau at St. Cloud. The people in the service of the King and Queenwould have waited until nine in the evening without anxiety, because thefamily sometimes did not return until that hour. The letter could not beforwarded to Paris until ten o'clock at the earliest. The Assembly wouldnot then be sitting; the President must have been sought for at his ownhouse or elsewhere; it would have been midnight before the Assembly couldhave been summoned and couriers sent off to have the royal family stopped;but the latter would have been six or seven hours in advance, as theywould have started at six leagues' distance from Paris; and at this periodtravelling was not yet impeded in France. 

The Queen approved of this plan; but I did not venture to interrogate her, and I even thought if it were put in execution she would leave me inignorance of it. One evening in the month of June the people of theChateau, finding the King did not return by nine o'clock, were walkingabout the courtyards in a state of great anxiety. I thought the family, was gone, and I could scarcely breathe amidst the confusion of my goodwishes, when I heard the sound of the carriages. I confessed to the Queenthat I thought she had set off; she told me she must wait until Mesdamesthe King's aunts had quitted France, and afterwards see whether the planagreed with those formed abroad. 

CHAPTER IV. 

There was a meeting at Paris for the first federation on the 14th of July, 1790, the anniversary of the taking of the Bastille. What an astonishingassemblage of four hundred thousand men, of whom there were not perhapstwo hundred who did not believe that the King found happiness and glory inthe order of things then being established. The love which was borne himby all, with the exception of those who meditated his ruin, still reignedin the hearts of the French in the departments; but if I may judge fromthose whom I had an opportunity of seeing, it was totally impossible toenlighten them; they were as much attached to the King as to theconstitution, and to the constitution as to the King; and it wasimpossible to separate the one from the other in their hearts and minds. 

The Court returned to St. Cloud after the federation. A wretch, namedRotondo, made his way into the palace with the intention of assassinatingthe Queen. It is known that he penetrated to the inner gardens: the rainprevented her Majesty from going out that day. M. De La Fayette, who wasaware of this plot, gave all the sentinels the strictest orders, and adescription of the monster was distributed throughout the palace by orderof the General. I do not know how he was saved from punishment. Thepolice belonging to the King discovered that there was likewise a schemeon foot for poisoning the Queen. She spoke to me, as well as to her headphysician, M. Vicq-d'Azyr, about it, without the slightest emotion, butboth he and I consulted what precautions it would be proper to take. Herelied much upon the Queen's temperance; yet he recommended me always tohave a bottle of oil of sweet almonds within reach, and to renew itoccasionally, that oil and milk being, as is known, the most certainantidotes to the divellication of corrosive poisons. 

The Queen had a habit which rendered M. Vicq-d'Azyr particularly uneasy:there was always some pounded sugar upon the table in her Majesty'sbedchamber; and she frequently, without calling anybody, put spoonfuls ofit into a glass of water when she wished to drink. It was agreed that Ishould get a considerable quantity of sugar powdered; that I should alwayshave some papers of it in my bag, and that three or four times a day, whenalone in the Queen's room, I should substitute it for that in hersugar-basin. We knew that the Queen would have prevented all suchprecautions, but we were not aware of her reason. One day she caught mealone making this exchange, and told me, she supposed it was agreed onbetween myself and M. Vicq-d'Azyr, but that I gave myself very unnecessarytrouble. "Remember, " added she, "that not a grain of poison will be putin use against me. The Brinvilliers do not belong to this century: thisage possesses calumny, which is a much more convenient instrument ofdeath; and it is by that I shall perish. "

Even while melancholy presentiments afflicted this unfortunate Princess, manifestations of attachment to her person, and to the King's cause, wouldfrequently raise agreeable illusions in her mind, or present to her theaffecting spectacle of tears shed for her sorrows. I was one day, duringthis same visit to St. Cloud, witness of a very touching scene, which wetook great care to keep secret. It was four in the afternoon; the guardwas not set; there was scarcely anybody at St. Cloud that day, and I wasreading to the Queen, who was at work in a room the balcony of which hungover the courtyard. The windows were closed, yet we heard a sort ofinarticulate murmur from a great number of voices. The Queen desired meto go and see what it was; I raised the muslin curtain, and perceived morethan fifty persons beneath the balcony: this group consisted of women, young and old, perfectly well dressed in the country costume, oldchevaliers of St. Louis, young knights of Malta, and a few ecclesiastics. I told the Queen it was probably an assemblage of persons residing in theneighbourhood who wished to see her. She rose, opened the window, andappeared in the balcony; immediately all these worthy people said to her, in an undertone: "Courage, Madame; good Frenchmen suffer for you, and withyou; they pray for you. Heaven will hear their prayers; we love you, werespect you, we will continue to venerate our virtuous King. " The Queenburst into tears, and held her handkerchief to her eyes. "Poor Queen! sheweeps!" said the women and young girls; but the dread of exposing herMajesty, and even the persons who showed so much affection for her, toobservation, prompted me to take her hand, and prevail upon her to retireinto her room; and, raising my eyes, I gave the excellent people tounderstand that my conduct was dictated by prudence. They comprehendedme, for I heard, "That lady is right;" and afterwards, "Farewell, Madame!"from several of them; and all this in accents of feeling so true and somournful, that I am affected at the recollection of them even after alapse of twenty years. 

A few days afterwards the insurrection of Nancy took place. 

[The insurrection of the troops at Nancy broke out in August 1790, and wasput down by Marechal de Bouille on the last day of that month. See"Bouille, " p. 195. ]

Only the ostensible cause is known; there was another, of which I mighthave been in full possession, if the great confusion I was in upon thesubject had not deprived me of the power of paying attention to it. Iwill endeavour to make myself understood. In the early part of Septemberthe Queen, as she was going to bed, desired me to let all her people go, and to remain with her myself; when we were alone she said to me, "TheKing will come here at midnight. You know that he has always shown youmarks of distinction; he now proves his confidence in you by selecting youto write down the whole affair of Nancy from his dictation. He must haveseveral copies of it. " At midnight the King came to the Queen'sapartments, and said to me, smiling, "You did not expect to become mysecretary, and that, too, during the night. " I followed the King into thecouncil chamber. I found there sheets of paper, an inkstand, and pens allready prepared. He sat down by my side and dictated to me the report ofthe Marquis de Bouille, which he himself copied at the same time. My handtrembled; I wrote with difficulty; my reflections scarcely left mesufficient power of attention to listen to the King. The large table, thevelvet cloth, seats which ought to have been filled by none but the King'schief councillors; what that chamber had been, and what it was at thatmoment, when the King was employing a woman in an office which had solittle affinity with her ordinary functions; the misfortunes which hadbrought him to the necessity of doing so, --all these ideas made such animpression upon me that when I had returned to the Queen's apartments Icould not sleep for the remainder of the night, nor could I remember whatI had written. 

The more I saw that I had the happiness to be of some use to my employers, the more scrupulously careful was I to live entirely with my family; and Inever indulged in any conversation which could betray the intimacy towhich I was admitted; but nothing at Court remains long concealed, and Isoon saw I had many enemies. The means of injuring others in the minds ofsovereigns are but too easily obtained, and they had become still more so, since the mere suspicion of communication with partisans of the Revolutionwas sufficient to forfeit the esteem and confidence of the King and Queen;happily, my conduct protected me, with them, against calumny. I had leftSt. Cloud two days, when I received at Paris a note from the Queen, containing these words:

"Come to St. Cloud immediately; I have something concerning you tocommunicate. " I set off without loss of time. Her Majesty told me shehad a sacrifice to request of me; I answered that it was made. She saidit went so far as the renunciation of a friend's society; that such arenunciation was always painful, but that it must be particularly so tome; that, for her own part, it might have been very useful that a deputy, a man of talent, should be constantly received at my house; but at thismoment she thought only of my welfare. The Queen then informed me thatthe ladies of the bedchamber had, the preceding evening, assured her thatM. De Beaumetz, deputy from the nobility of Artois, who had taken his seaton the left of the Assembly, spent his whole time at my house. Perceivingon what false grounds the attempt to injure, me was based, I repliedrespectfully, but at the same time smiling, that it was impossible for meto make the sacrifice exacted by her Majesty; that M. De Beaumetz, a manof great judgment, had not determined to cross over to the left of theAssembly with the intention of afterwards making himself unpopular byspending his time with the Queen's first woman; and that, ever since the1st of October, 1789, I had seen him nowhere but at the play, or in thepublic walks, and even then without his ever coming to speak to me; thatthis line of conduct had appeared to me perfectly consistent: for whetherhe was desirous to please the popular party, or to be sought after by theCourt, he could not act in any other way towards me. The Queen closedthis explanation by saying, "Oh! it is clear, as clear as the day! thisopportunity for trying to do you an injury is very ill chosen; but becautious in your slightest actions; you perceive that the confidenceplaced in you by the King and myself raises you up powerful enemies. "

The private communications which were still kept up between the Court andMirabeau at length procured him an interview with the Queen, in thegardens of St. Cloud. He left Paris on horseback, on pretence of goinginto the country, to M. De Clavieres, one of his friends; but he stoppedat one of the gates of the gardens of St. Cloud, and was led to a spotsituated in the highest part of the private garden, where the Queen waswaiting for him. She told me she accosted him by saying, "With a commonenemy, with a man who had sworn to destroy monarchy without appreciatingits utility among a great people, I should at this moment be guilty of amost ill-advised step; but in speaking to a Mirabeau, " etc. The poorQueen was delighted at having discovered this method of exalting him aboveall others of his principles; and in imparting the particulars of thisinterview to me she said, "Do you know that those words, 'a Mirabeau, 'appeared to flatter him exceedingly. " On leaving the Queen he said to herwith warmth, "Madame, the monarchy is saved!" It must have been soonafterwards that Mirabeau received considerable sums of money. He showedit too plainly by the increase of his expenditure. Already did some of hisremarks upon the necessity of arresting the progress of the democratscirculate in society. Being once invited to meet a person at dinner whowas very much attached to the Queen, he learned that that person withdrewon hearing that he was one of the guests; the party who invited him toldhim this with some degree of satisfaction; but all were very muchastonished when they heard Mirabeau eulogise the absent guest, and declarethat in his place he would have done the same; but, he added, they hadonly to invite that person again in a few months, and he would then dinewith the restorer of the monarchy. Mirabeau forgot that it was more easyto do harm than good, and thought himself the political Atlas of the wholeworld. 

Outrages and mockery were incessantly mingled with the audaciousproceedings of the revolutionists. It was customary to give serenadesunder the King's windows on New Year's Day. The band of the NationalGuard repaired thither on that festival in 1791; in allusion to theliquidation of the debts of the State, decreed by the Assembly, theyplayed solely, and repeatedly, that air from the comic opera of the"Debts, " the burden of which is, "But our creditors are paid, and thatmakes us easy. "

On the same day some "conquerors of the Bastille, " grenadiers of theParisian guard, preceded by military music, came to present to the youngDauphin, as a New Year's gift, a box of dominoes, made of some of thestone and marble of which that state prison was built. The Queen gave methis inauspicious curiosity, desiring me to preserve it, as it would be acurious illustration of the history of the Revolution. Upon the lid wereengraved some bad verses, the purport of which was as follows: "Stonesfrom those walls, which enclosed the innocent victims of arbitrary power, have been converted into a toy, to be presented to you, Monseigneur, as amark of the people's love; and to teach you their power. "

The Queen said that M. De La Fayette's thirst for popularity induced himto lend himself, without discrimination, to all popular follies. Herdistrust of the General increased daily, and grew so powerful that when, towards the end of the Revolution, he seemed willing to support thetottering throne, she could never bring herself to incur so great anobligation to him. 

M. De J-----, a colonel attached to the staff of the army, was fortunateenough to render several services to the Queen, and acquitted himself withdiscretion and dignity of various important missions. 

[During the Queen's detention in the Temple he introduced himself Intothat prison in the dress of a lamplighter, and there discharged his dutyunrecognised. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

Their Majesties had the highest confidence in him, although it frequentlyhappened that his prudence, when inconsiderate projects were underdiscussion, brought upon him the charge of adopting the principles of theconstitutionals. Being sent to Turin, he had some difficulty indissuading the Princes from a scheme they had formed at that period ofreentering France, with a very weak army, by way of Lyons; and when, in acouncil which lasted till three o'clock in the morning, he showed hisinstructions, and demonstrated that the measure would endanger the King, the Comte d'Artois alone declared against the plan, which emanated fromthe Prince de Conde. 

Among the persons employed in subordinate situations, whom the criticalcircumstances of the times involved in affairs of importance, was M. DeGoguelat, a geographical engineer at Versailles, and an excellentdraughtsman. He made plans of St. Cloud and Trianon for the Queen; shewas very much pleased with them, and had the engineer admitted into thestaff of the army. At the commencement of the Revolution he was sent toCount Esterhazy, at Valenciennes, in the capacity of aide-de-camp. Thelatter rank was given him solely to get him away from Versailles, wherehis rashness endangered the Queen during the earlier months of theAssembly of the States General. Making a parade of his devotion to theKing's interests, he went repeatedly to the tribunes of the Assembly, andthere openly railed at all the motions of the deputies, and then returnedto the Queen's antechamber, where he repeated all that he had just heard, or had had the imprudence to say. Unfortunately, at the same time thatthe Queen sent away M. De Goguelat, she still believed that, in adangerous predicament, requiring great self-devotion, the man might beemployed advantageously. In 1791 he was commissioned to act in concertwith the Marquis de Bouille in furtherance of the King's intended escape. 

[See the "Memoirs" of M. De Bouille, those of the Duc de Choiseul, and theaccount of the journey to Varennes, by M. De Fontanges, in "Weber'sMemoirs. "--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Projectors in great numbers endeavoured to introduce themselves not onlyto the Queen, but to Madame Elisabeth, who had communications with manyindividuals who took upon themselves to make plans for the conduct of theCourt. The Baron de Gilliers and M. De Vanoise were of this description;they went to the Baronne de Mackau's, where the Princess spent almost allher evenings. The Queen did not like these meetings, where MadameElisabeth might adopt views in opposition to the King's intentions or herown. 

The Queen gave frequent audiences to M. De La Fayette. One day, when hewas in her inner closet, his aides-de-camp, who waited for him, werewalking up and down the great room where the persons in attendanceremained. Some imprudent young women were thoughtless enough to say, withthe intention of being overheard by those officers, that it was veryalarming to see the Queen alone with a rebel and a brigand. I was annoyedat their indiscretion, and imposed silence on them. One of them persistedin the appellation "brigand. " I told her that M. De La Fayette welldeserved the name of rebel, but that the title of leader of a party wasgiven by history to every man commanding forty thousand men, a capital, and forty leagues of country; that kings had frequently treated with suchleaders, and if it was convenient to the Queen to do the same, it remainedfor us only to be silent and respect her actions. On the morrow theQueen, with a serious air; but with the greatest kindness, asked what Ihad said respecting M. De La Fayette on the preceding day; adding that shehad been assured I had enjoined her women silence, because they did notlike him, and that I had taken his part. I repeated what had passed tothe Queen, word for word. She condescended to tell me that I had doneperfectly right. 

Whenever any false reports respecting me were conveyed to her she was kindenough to inform me of them; and they had no effect on the confidence withwhich she continued to honour me, and which I am happy to think I havejustified even at the risk of my life. 

Mesdames, the King's aunts, set out from Bellevue in the beginning of theyear 1791. Alexandre Berthier, afterwards Prince de Neufchatel, then acolonel on the staff of the army, and commandant of the National Guard ofVersailles, facilitated the departure of Mesdames. The Jacobins of thattown procured his dismissal, and he ran the greatest risk, on account ofhaving rendered this service to these Princesses. 

I went to take leave of Madame Victoire. I little thought that I was thenseeing her for the last time. She received me alone in her closet, andassured me that she hoped, as well as wished, soon to return to France;that the French would be much to be pitied if the excesses of theRevolution should arrive at such a pitch as to force her to prolong herabsence. 

[General Berthier justified the monarch's confidence by a firm and prudentline of conduct which entitled him to the highest military honours, and tothe esteem of the great warrior whose fortune, dangers, and glory heafterwards shared. This officer, full of honour, and gifted with thehighest courage, was shut into the courtyard of Bellevue by his own troop, and ran great risk of being murdered. It was not until the 14th of Marchthat he succeeded in executing his instructions ("Memoirs of Mesdames, " byMontigny, vol. I. )]

I knew from the Queen that the departure of Mesdames was deemednecessary, in order to leave the King free to act when he should becompelled to go away with his family. It being impossible that theconstitution of the clergy should be otherwise than in direct oppositionto the religious principles of Mesdames, they thought their journey toRome would be attributed to piety alone. It was, however, difficult todeceive an Assembly which weighed the slightest actions of the royalfamily, and from that moment they were more than ever alive to what waspassing at the Tuileries. 

Mesdames were desirous of taking Madame Elisabeth to Rome. The freeexercise of religion, the happiness of taking refuge with the head of theChurch, and the prospect of living in safety with her aunts, whom shetenderly loved, were sacrificed by that virtuous Princess to herattachment to the King. 

The oath required of priests by the civil constitution of the clergyintroduced into France a division which added to the dangers by which theKing was already surrounded. 

[The priests were required to swear to the civil constitution of theclergy of 1790, by which all the former bishoprics and parishes wereremodelled, and the priests and bishops elected by the people. Mostrefused, and under the name of 'pretres insermentes' (as opposed to thefew who took the oath, 'pretres assermentes') were bitterly persecuted. Asimple promise to obey the constitution of the State was substituted byNapoleon as soon as he came to power. ]

Mirabeau spent a whole night with the cure of St. Eustache, confessor ofthe King and Queen, to persuade him to take the oath required by thatconstitution. Their Majesties chose another confessor, who remainedunknown. 

A few months afterwards (2d April, 1791), the too celebrated Mirabeau, themercenary democrat and venal royalist, terminated his career. The Queenregretted him, and was astonished at her own regret; but she had hopedthat he who had possessed adroitness and weight enough to throw everythinginto confusion would have been able by the same means to repair themischief he had caused. Much has been said respecting the cause ofMirabeau's death. M. Cabanis, his friend and physician, denied that hewas poisoned. M. Vicq-d'Azyr assured the Queen that the 'proces-verbal'drawn up on the state of the intestines would apply just as well to a caseof death produced by violent remedies as to one produced by poison. Hesaid, also, that the report had been faithful; but that it was prudent toconclude it by a declaration of natural death, since, in the criticalstate in which France then was, if a suspicion of foul play were admitted, a person innocent of any such crime might be sacrificed to publicvengeance. 

CHAPTER V. 

In the beginning of the spring of 1791, the King, tired of remaining atthe Tuileries, wished to return to St. Cloud. His whole household hadalready gone, and his dinner was prepared there. He got into his carriageat one; the guard mutinied, shut the gates, and declared they would notlet him pass. This event certainly proceeded from some suspicion of aplan to escape. Two persons who drew near the King's carriage were veryill treated. My father-in-law was violently laid hold of by the guards, who took his sword from him. The King and his family were obliged toalight and return to their apartments. 

They did not much regret this outrage in their hearts; they saw in it ajustification, even in the eyes of the people, of their intention to leaveParis. 

So early as the month of March in the same year, the Queen began to busyherself in preparing for her departure. I spent that month with her, andexecuted a great number of secret orders which she gave me respecting theintended event. It was with uneasiness that I saw her occupied with careswhich seemed to me useless, and even dangerous, and I remarked to her thatthe Queen of France would find linen and gowns everywhere. My observationswere made in vain; she determined to have a complete wardrobe with her atBrussels, as well for her children as herself. I went out alone and almostdisguised to purchase the articles necessary and have them made up. 

I ordered six chemises at the shop of one seamstress, six at that ofanother, gowns, combing cloths, etc. My sister had a complete set ofclothes made for Madame, by the measure of her eldest daughter, and Iordered clothes for the Dauphin from those of my son. I filled a trunkwith these things, and addressed them, by the Queen's orders, to one ofher women, my aunt, Madame Cardon, --a widow living at Arras, by virtue ofan unlimited leave of absence, --in order that she might be ready to startfor Brussels, or any other place, as soon as she should be directed to doso. This lady had landed property in Austrian Flanders, and could at anytime quit Arras unobserved. 

The Queen was to take only her first woman in attendance with her fromParis. She apprised me that if I should not be on duty at the moment ofdeparture, she would make arrangements for my joining her. She determinedalso to take her travelling dressing-case. She consulted me on her ideaof sending it off, under pretence of making a present of it to theArchduchess Christina, Gouvernante of the Netherlands. I ventured tooppose this plan strongly, and observed that, amidst so many people whowatched her slightest actions, there would be found a sufficient numbersharp-sighted enough to discover that it was only a pretext for sendingaway the property in question before her own departure; she persisted inher intention, and all I could arrange was that the dressing-case shouldnot be removed from her apartment, and that M. De charge d'afaires fromthe Court of Vienna during the absence of the Comte de Mercy, should comeand ask her, at her toilet, before all her people, to order one exactlylike her own for Madame the Gouvernante of the Netherlands. The Queen, therefore, commanded me before the charge d'affaires to order the articlein question. This occasioned only an expense of five hundred louis, andappeared calculated to lull suspicion completely. 

About the middle of May, 1791, a month after the Queen had ordered me tobespeak the dressing-case, she asked me whether it would soon be finished. I sent for the ivory-turner who had it in hand. He could not complete itfor six weeks. I informed the Queen of this, and she told me she shouldnot be able to wait for it, as she was to set out in the course of June. She added that, as she had ordered her sister's dressing-case in thepresence of all her attendants, she had taken a sufficient precaution, especially by saying that her sister was out of patience at not receivingit, and that therefore her own must be emptied and cleaned, and taken tothe charge d'affaires, who would send it off. I executed this orderwithout any, appearance of mystery. I desired the wardrobe woman to takeout of the dressing-case all that it contained, because that intended forthe Archduchess could not be finished for some time; and to take greatcare to leave no remains of the perfumes which might not suit thatPrincess. 

The woman in question executed her commission punctually; but, on theevening of that very day, the 15th of May, 1791, she informed M. Bailly, the Mayor of Paris, that preparations were making at the Queen's residencefor a departure; and that the dressing-case was already sent off, underpretence of its being presented to the Archduchess Christina. 

[After the return from Varennes M. Bailly put this woman's deposition intothe Queen's hands. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

It was necessary, likewise, to send off all the diamonds belonging to theQueen. Her Majesty shut herself up with me in a closet in the entresol, looking into the garden of the Tuileries, and we packed all the diamonds, rubies, and pearls she possessed in a small chest. The cases containingthese ornaments, being altogether of considerable bulk, had beendeposited, ever since the 6th of October, 1789, with the valet de chambrewho had the care of the Queen's jewels. That faithful servant, himselfdetecting the use that was to be made of the valuables, destroyed all theboxes, which were, as usual, covered with red morocco, marked with thecipher and arms of France. It would have been impossible for him to hidethem from the eyes of the popular inquisitors during the domiciliaryvisits in January, 1793, and the discovery might have formed a ground ofaccusation against the Queen. 

I had but a few articles to place in the box when the Queen was compelledto desist from packing it, being obliged to go down to cards, which beganat seven precisely. She therefore desired me to leave all the diamondsupon the sofa, persuaded that, as she took the key of her closet herself, and there was a sentinel under the window, no danger was to be apprehendedfor that night, and she reckoned upon returning very early next day tofinish the work. 

The same woman who had given information of the sending away of thedressing-case was also deputed by the Queen to take care of her moreprivate rooms. No other servant was permitted to enter them; she renewedthe flowers, swept the carpets, etc. The Queen received back the key, when the woman had finished putting them in order, from her own hands;but, desirous of doing her duty well, and sometimes having the key in herpossession for a few minutes only, she had probably on that accountordered one without the Queen's knowledge. It is impossible not tobelieve this, since the despatch of the diamonds was the subject of asecond accusation which the Queen heard of after the return from Varennes. She made a formal declaration that her Majesty, with the assistance ofMadame Campan, had packed up all her jewelry some time before thedeparture; that she was certain of it, as she had found the diamonds, andthe cotton which served to wrap them, scattered upon the sofa in theQueen's closet in the 'entresol'; and most assuredly she could only haveseen these preparations in the interval between seven in the evening andseven in the morning. The Queen having met me next day at the timeappointed, the box was handed over to Leonard, her Majesty'shairdresser, --[This unfortunate man, after having emigrated for some time, returned to France, and perished upon the scaffold. --NOTE BY EDITOR]--wholeft the country with the Duc de Choiseul. The box remained a long timeat Brussels, and at length got into the hands of Madame la Duchessed'Angouleme, being delivered to her by the Emperor on her arrival atVienna. 

In order not to leave out any of the Queen's diamonds, I requested thefirst tirewoman to give me the body of the full dress, and all theassortment which served for the stomacher of the full dress on days ofstate, articles which always remained at the wardrobe. 

The superintendent and the dame d'honneur being absent, the firsttirewoman required me to sign a receipt, the terms of which she dictated, and which acquitted her of all responsibility for these diamonds. She hadthe prudence to burn this document on the 10th of August, 1792. --[The dateof the sack of the Tuileries and slaughter of the Swiss Guard]--The Queenhaving determined, upon the arrest at Varennes, not to have her diamondsbrought back to France, was often anxious about them during the year whichelapsed between that period and the 10th of August, and dreaded above allthings that such a secret should be discovered. 

In consequence of a decree of the Assembly, which deprived the King of thecustody of the Crown diamonds, the Queen had at this time already given upthose which she generally used. 

She preferred the twelve brilliants called Hazarins, from the name of theCardinal who had enriched the treasury with them, a few rose-cut diamonds, and the Sanci. She determined to deliver, with her own hands, the boxcontaining them to the commissioner nominated by the National Assembly toplace them with the Crown diamonds. After giving them to him, she offeredhim a row of pearls of great beauty, saying to him that it had beenbrought into France by Anne of Austria; that it was invaluable, on accountof its rarity; that, having been appropriated by that Princess to the useof the Queens and Dauphinesses, Louis XV. Had placed it in her hands onher arrival in France; but that she considered it national property. "That is an open question, Madame, " said the commissary. "Monsieur, "replied the Queen, "it is one for me to decide, and is now settled. "

My father-in-law, who was dying of the grief he felt for the misfortunesof his master and mistress, strongly interested and occupied the thoughtsof the Queen. He had been saved from the fury of the populace in thecourtyard of the Tuileries. 

On the day on which the King was compelled by an insurrection to give up ajourney to St. Cloud, her Majesty looked upon this trusty servant asinevitably lost, if, on going away, she should leave him in the apartmenthe occupied in the Tuileries. Prompted by her apprehensions, she orderedM. Vicq-d'Azyr, her physician, to recommend him the waters of Mont d'Or inAuvergne, and to persuade him to set off at the latter end of May. At themoment of my going away the Queen assured me that the grand project wouldbe executed between the 15th and the 20th of June; that as it was not mymonth to be on duty, Madame Thibaut would take the journey; but that shehad many directions to give me before I went. She then desired me towrite to my aunt, Madame Cardon, who was by that time in possession of theclothes which I had ordered, that as soon as she should receive a letterfrom M. Augur, the date of which should be accompanied with a B, an L, oran M, she was to proceed with her property to Brussels, Luxembourg, orMontmedy. She desired me to explain the meaning of these three lettersclearly to my sister, and to leave them with her in writing, in order thatat the moment of my going away she might be able to take my place inwriting to Arras. 

The Queen had a more delicate commission for me; it was to select fromamong my acquaintance a prudent person of obscure rank, wholly devoted tothe interests of the Court, who would be willing to receive a portfoliowhich she was to give up only to me, or some one furnished with a notefrom the Queen. She added that she would not travel with this portfolio, and that it was of the utmost importance that my opinion of the fidelityof the person to whom it was to be entrusted should be well founded. Iproposed to her Madame Vallayer Coster, a painter of the Academy, and anamiable and worthy artist, whom I had known from my infancy. She lived inthe galleries of the Louvre. The choice seemed a good one. The Queenremembered that she had made her marriage possible by giving her a placein the financial offices, and added that gratitude ought sometimes to bereckoned on. She then pointed out to me the valet belonging to hertoilet, whom I was to take with me, to show him the residence of MadameCoster, so that he might not mistake it when he should take the portfolioto her. The day before her departure the Queen particularly recommendedme to proceed to Lyons and the frontiers as soon as she should havestarted. She advised me to take with me a confidential person, fit toremain with M. Campan when I should leave him, and assured me that shewould give orders to M. ------ to set off as soon as she should be knownto be at the frontiers in order to protect me in going out. Shecondescended to add that, having a long journey to make in foreigncountries, she determined to give me three hundred louis. 

I bathed the Queen's hands with tears at the moment of this sorrowfulseparation; and, having money at my disposal, I declined accepting hergold. I did not dread the road I had to travel in order to rejoin her;all my apprehension was that by treachery or miscalculation a scheme, thesafety of which was not sufficiently clear to me, should fail. I couldanswer for all those who belonged to the service immediately about theQueen's person, and I was right; but her wardrobe woman gave mewell-founded reason for alarm. I mentioned to the Queen manyrevolutionary remarks which this woman had made to me a few days before. Her office was directly under the control of the first femme de chambre, yet she had refused to obey the directions I gave her, talking insolentlyto me about "hierarchy overturned, equality among men, " of course moreespecially among persons holding offices at Court; and this jargon, atthat time in the mouths of all the partisans of the Revolution, wasterminated by an observation which frightened me. "You know manyimportant secrets, madame, " said this woman to me, "and I have guessedquite as many. I am not a fool; I see all that is going forward here inconsequence of the bad advice given to the King and Queen; I couldfrustrate it all if I chose. " This argument, in which I had been promptlysilenced, left me pale and trembling. Unfortunately, as I began mynarrative to the Queen with particulars of this woman's refusal to obeyme, --and sovereigns are all their lives importuned with complaints uponthe rights of places, --she believed that my own dissatisfaction had muchto do with the step I was taking; and she did not sufficiently fear thewoman. Her office, although a very inferior one, brought her in nearlyfifteen thousand francs a year. Still young, tolerably handsome, withcomfortable apartments in the entresols of the Tuileries, she saw a greatdeal of company, and in the evening had assemblies, consisting of deputiesof the revolutionary party. M. De Gouvion, major-general of the NationalGuard, passed almost every day with her; and it is to be presumed that shehad long worked for the party in opposition to the Court. The Queen askedher for the key of a door which led to the principal vestibule of theTuileries, telling her she wished to have a similar one, that she mightnot be under the necessity of going out through the pavilion of Flora. M. De Gouvion and M. De La Fayette would, of course, be apprised of thiscircumstance, and well-informed persons have assured me that on the verynight of the Queen's departure this wretched woman had a spy with her, whosaw the royal family set off. 

As soon as I had executed all the Queen's orders, on the 30th of May, 1791, I set out for Auvergne, and was settled in the gloomy narrow valleyof Mont d'Or, when, about four in the afternoon of the 25th of June, Iheard the beat of a drum to call the inhabitants of the hamlet together. When it had ceased I heard a hairdresser from Bresse proclaim in theprovincial dialect of Auvergne: "The King and Queen were taking flight inorder to ruin France, but I come to tell you that they are stopped, andare well guarded by a hundred thousand men under arms. " I still venturedto hope that he was repeating only a false report, but he went on: "TheQueen, " with her well-known haughtiness, lifted up the veil which coveredher face, and said to the citizens who were upbraiding the King, "Well, since you recognise your sovereign, respect him. " Upon hearing theseexpressions, which the Jacobin club of Clermont could not have invented, Iexclaimed, "The news is true!"

I immediately learnt that, a courier being come from Paris to Clermont, the 'procureur' of the commune had sent off messengers to the chief placesof the canton; these again sent couriers to the districts, and thedistricts in like manner informed the villages and hamlets which theycontained. It was through this ramification, arising from theestablishment of clubs, that the afflicting intelligence of the misfortuneof my sovereigns reached me in the wildest part of France, and in themidst of the snows by which we were environed. 

On the 28th I received a note written in a hand which I recognised as thatof M. Diet, --[This officer was slain in the Queen's chamber on the 10th ofAugust]--usher of the Queen's chamber, but dictated by her Majesty. Itcontained these words: "I am this moment arrived; I have just got into mybath; I and my family exist, that is all. I have suffered much. Do notreturn to Paris until I desire you. Take good care of my poor Campan, soothe his sorrow. Look for happier times. " This note was for greatersafety addressed to my father-in-law's valet-de-chambre. What were myfeelings on perceiving that after the most distressing crisis we wereamong the first objects of the kindness of that unfortunate Princess!

M. Campan having been unable to benefit by the waters of Mont d'Or, andthe first popular effervescence having subsided, I thought I might returnto Clermont. The committee of surveillance, or that of general safety, had resolved to arrest me there; but the Abbe Louis, formerly aparliamentary counsellor, and then a member of the Constituent Assembly, was kind enough to affirm that I was in Auvergne solely for the purpose ofattending my father-in-law, who was extremely ill. The precautionsrelative to my absence from Paris were limited to placing us under thesurveillance of the 'procureur' of the commune, who was at the same timepresident of the Jacobin club; but he was also a physician of repute, andwithout having any doubt that he had received secret orders relative tome, I thought it would favour the chances of our safety if I selected himto attend my patient. I paid him according to the rate given to the bestParis physicians, and I requested him to visit us every morning and everyevening. I took the precaution to subscribe to no other newspaper thanthe Moniteur. Doctor Monestier (for that was the physician's name)frequently took upon himself to read it to us. Whenever he thought properto speak of the King and Queen in the insulting and brutal terms at thattime unfortunately adopted throughout France, I used to stop him and say, coolly, "Monsieur, you are here in company with the servants of Louis XVI. And Marie Antoinette. Whatever may be the wrongs with which the nationbelieves it has to reproach them, our principles forbid our losing sightof the respect due to them from us. " Notwithstanding that he was aninveterate patriot, he felt the force of this remark, and even procuredthe revocation of a second order for our arrest, becoming responsible forus to the committee of the Assembly, and to the Jacobin society. 

The two chief women about the Dauphin, who had accompanied the Queen toVarennes, Diet, her usher, and Camot, her garcon de toilette, --the womenon account of the journey, and the men in consequence of the denunciationof the woman belonging to the wardrobe, --were sent to the prisons of theAbbaye. After my departure the garcon de toilette whom I had taken toMadame Vallayer Coster's was sent there with the portfolio she had agreedto receive. This commission could not escape the detestable spy upon theQueen. She gave information that a portfolio had been carried out on theevening of the departure, adding that the King had placed it upon theQueen's easy-chair, that the garcon de toilette wrapped it up in a napkinand took it under his arm, and that she did not know where he had carriedit. The man, who was remarkable for his fidelity, underwent threeexaminations without making the slightest disclosure. M. Diet, a man ofgood family, a servant on whom the Queen placed particular reliance, likewise experienced the severest treatment. At length, after a lapse ofthree weeks, the Queen succeeded in obtaining the release of her servants. 

The Queen, about the 15th of August, had me informed by letter that Imight come back to Paris without being under any apprehension of arrestthere, and that she greatly desired my return. I brought my father-in-lawback in a dying state, and on the day preceding that of the acceptation ofthe constitutional act, I informed the Queen that he was no more. "Theloss of Lassonne and Campan, " said she, as she applied her handkerchief toher streaming eyes, "has taught me how valuable such subjects are to theirmasters. I shall never find their equals. "

I resumed my functions about the Queen on the 1st of September, 1791. Shewas unable then to converse with me on all the lamentable events which hadoccurred since the time of my leaving her, having on guard near her anofficer whom she dreaded more than all the others. She merely told methat I should have some secret services to perform for her, and that shewould not create uneasiness by long conversations with me, my return beinga subject of suspicion. But next day the Queen, well knowing thediscretion of the officer who was to be on guard that night, had my bedplaced very near hers, and having obtained the favour of having the doorshut, when I was in bed she began the narrative of the journey, and theunfortunate arrest at Varennes. I asked her permission to put on my gown, and kneeling by her bedside I remained until three o'clock in the morning, listening with the liveliest and most sorrowful interest to the account Iam about to repeat, and of which I have seen various details, of tolerableexactness, in papers of the time. 

The King entrusted Count Fersen with all the preparations for departure. The carriage was ordered by him; the passport, in the name of Madame deKorf, was procured through his connection with that lady, who was aforeigner. And lastly, he himself drove the royal family, as theircoachman, as far as Bondy, where the travellers got into their berlin. Madame Brunier and Madame Neuville, the first women of Madame and theDauphin, there joined the principal carriage. They were in a cabriolet. Monsieur and Madame set out from the Luxembourg and took another road. They as well as the King were recognised by the master of the last post inFrance, but this man, devoting himself to the fortunes of the Prince, leftthe French territory, and drove them himself as postilion. MadameThibaut, the Queen's first woman, reached Brussels without the slightestdifficulty. Madame Cardon, from Arras, met with no hindrance; andLeonard, the Queen's hairdresser, passed through Varennes a few hoursbefore the royal family. Fate had reserved all its obstacles for theunfortunate monarch. 

Nothing worthy of notice occurred in the beginning of the journey. Thetravellers were detained a short time, about twelve leagues from Paris, bysome repairs which the carriage required. The King chose to walk up oneof the hills, and these two circumstances caused a delay of three hours, precisely at the time when it was intended that the berlin should havebeen met, just before reaching Varennes, by the detachment commanded by M. De Goguelat. This detachment was punctually stationed upon the spot fixedon, with orders to wait there for the arrival of certain treasure, whichit was to escort; but the peasantry of the neighbourhood, alarmed at thesight of this body of troops, came armed with staves, and asked severalquestions, which manifested their anxiety. M. De Goguelat, fearful ofcausing a riot, and not finding the carriage arrive as he expected, divided his men into two companies, and unfortunately made them leave thehighway in order to return to Varennes by two cross roads. The King lookedout of the carriage at Ste. Menehould, and asked several questionsconcerning the road. Drouet, the post-master, struck by the resemblanceof Louis to the impression of his head upon the assignats, drew near thecarriage, felt convinced that he recognised the Queen also, and that theremainder of the travellers consisted of the royal family and their suite, mounted his horse, reached Varennes by cross roads before the royalfugitives, and gave the alarm. --[Varennes lies between Verdun andMontmedy, and not far from the French frontier. ]

The Queen began to feel all the agonies of terror; they were augmented bythe voice of a person unknown, who, passing close to the carriage in fullgallop, cried out, bending towards the window without slackening hisspeed, "You are recognised!" They arrived with beating hearts at thegates of Varennes without meeting one of the horsemen by whom they were tohave been escorted into the place. They were ignorant where to find theirrelays, and some minutes were lost in waiting, to no purpose. Thecabriolet had preceded them, and the two ladies in attendance found thebridge already blocked up with old carts and lumber. The town guards wereall under arms. The King at last entered Varennes. M. De Goguelat hadarrived there with his detachment. He came up to the King and asked himif he chose to effect a passage by force! What an unlucky question to putto Louis XVI. , who from the very beginning of the Revolution had shown inevery crisis the fear he entertained of giving the least order which mightcause an effusion of blood! "Would it be a brisk action?" said the King. "It is impossible that it should be otherwise, Sire, " replied theaide-decamp. Louis XVI. Was unwilling to expose his family. Theytherefore went to the house of a grocer, Mayor of Varennes. The Kingbegan to speak, and gave a summary of his intentions in departing, analogous to the declaration he had made at Paris. He spoke with warmthand affability, and endeavoured to demonstrate to the people around himthat he had only put himself, by the step he had taken, into a fitsituation to treat with the Assembly, and to sanction with freedom theconstitution which he would maintain, though many of its articles wereincompatible with the dignity of the throne, and the force by which it wasnecessary that the sovereign should be surrounded. Nothing could be moreaffecting, added the Queen, than this moment, in which the King felt boundto communicate to the very humblest class of his subjects his principles, his wishes for the happiness of his people, and the motives which haddetermined him to depart. 

Whilst the King was speaking to this mayor, whose name was Sauce, theQueen, seated at the farther end of the shop, among parcels of soap andcandles, endeavoured to make Madame Sauce understand that if she wouldprevail upon her husband to make use of his municipal authority to coverthe flight of the King and his family, she would have the glory of havingcontributed to restore tranquillity to France. This woman was moved; shecould not, without streaming eyes, see herself thus solicited by herQueen; but she could not be got to say anything more than, "Bon Dieu, Madame, it would be the destruction of M. Sauce; I love my King, but Ilove my husband too, you must know, and he would be answerable, you see. "Whilst this strange scene was passing in the shop, the people, hearingthat the King was arrested, kept pouring in from all parts. M. DeGoguelat, making a last effort, demanded of the dragoons whether theywould protect the departure of the King; they replied only by murmurs, dropping the points of their swords. Some person unknown fired a pistolat M. De Goguelat; he was slightly wounded by the ball. M. Romeuf, aide-de-camp to M. De La Fayette, arrived at that moment. He had beenchosen, after the 6th of October, 1789, by the commander of the Parisianguard to be in constant attendance about the Queen. She reproached himbitterly with the object of his mission. "If you wish to make your nameremarkable, monsieur, " said the Queen to him, "you have chosen strange andodious means, which will produce the most fatal consequences. " Thisofficer wished to hasten their departure. The Queen, still cherishing thehope of seeing M. De Bouille arrive with a sufficient force to extricatethe King from his critical situation, prolonged her stay at Varennes byevery means in her power. 

The Dauphin's first woman pretended to be taken ill with a violent colic, and threw herself upon a bed, in the hope of aiding the designs of hersuperiors; she went and implored for assistance. The Queen understood herperfectly well, and refused to leave one who had devoted herself to followthem in such a state of suffering. But no delay in departing was allowed. The three Body Guards (Valory, Du Moustier, and Malden) were gagged andfastened upon the seat of the carriage. A horde of National Guards, animated with fury and the barbarous joy with which their fatal triumphinspired them, surrounded the carriage of the royal family. 

The three commissioners sent by the Assembly to meet the King, MM. DeLatour-Maubourg, Barnave, and Potion, joined them in the environs ofEpernay. The two last mentioned got into the King's carriage. The Queenastonished me by the favourable opinion she had formed of Barnave. When Iquitted Paris a great many persons spoke of him only with horror. She toldme he was much altered, that he was full of talent and noble feeling. "Afeeling of pride which I cannot much blame in a young man belonging to theTiers Etat, " she said, "made him applaud everything which smoothed theroad to rank and fame for that class in which he was born. And if we getthe power in our own hands again, Barnave's pardon is already written onour hearts. " The Queen added, that she had not the same feeling towardsthose nobles who had joined the revolutionary party, who had alwaysreceived marks of favour, often to the injury of those beneath them inrank, and who, born to be the safeguard of the monarchy, could never bepardoned for having deserted it. She then told me that Barnave's conductupon the road was perfectly correct, while Potion's republican rudenesswas disgusting; that the latter ate and drank in the King's berlin in aslovenly manner, throwing the bones of the fowls out through the window atthe risk of sending them even into the King's face; lifting up his glass, when Madame Elisabeth poured him out wine, to show her that there wasenough, without saying a word; that this offensive behaviour must havebeen intentional, because the man was not without education; and thatBarnave was hurt at it. On being pressed by the Queen to take something, "Madame, " replied Barnave, "on so solemn an occasion the deputies of theNational Assembly ought to occupy your Majesties solely about theirmission, and by no means about their wants. " In short, his respectfuldelicacy, his considerate attentions, and all that he said, gained theesteem not only of the Queen, but of Madame Elisabeth also. 

The King began to talk to Petion about the situation of France, and themotives of his conduct, which were founded upon the necessity of giving tothe executive power a strength necessary for its action, for the good evenof the constitutional act, since France could not be a republic. "Not yet, 'tis true, " replied Petion, "because the French are not ripe enough forthat. " This audacious and cruel answer silenced the King, who said nomore until his arrival at Paris. Potion held the little Dauphin upon hisknees, and amused himself with curling the beautiful light hair of theinteresting child round his fingers; and, as he spoke with muchgesticulation, he pulled his locks hard enough to make the Dauphin cryout. "Give me my son, " said the Queen to him; "he is accustomed totenderness and delicacy, which render him little fit for suchfamiliarity. "

The Chevalier de Dampierre was killed near the King's carriage uponleaving Varennes. A poor village cure, some leagues from the place wherethe crime was committed, was imprudent enough to draw near to speak to theKing; the cannibals who surrounded the carriage rushed upon him. "Tigers, "exclaimed Barnave, "have you ceased to be Frenchmen? Nation of brave men, are you become a set of assassins?" These words alone saved the cure, whowas already upon the ground, from certain death. Barnave, as he spoke tothem, threw himself almost out of the coach window, and Madame Elisabeth, affected by this noble burst of feeling, held him by the skirt of hiscoat. The Queen, while speaking of this event, said that on the mostmomentous occasions whimsical contrasts always struck her, and that evenat such a moment the pious Elisabeth holding Barnave by the flap of hiscoat was a ludicrous sight. 

The deputy was astonished in another way. Madame Elisabeth's commentsupon the state of France, her mild and persuasive eloquence, and the, easeand simplicity with which she talked to him, yet without sacrificing herdignity in the slightest degree, appeared to him unique, and his heart, which was doubtless inclined to right principles though he had followedthe wrong path, was overcome by admiration. The conduct of the twodeputies convinced the Queen of the total separation between therepublican and constitutional parties. At the inns where she alighted shehad some private conversation with Barnave. The latter said a great dealabout the errors committed by the royalists during the Revolution, addingthat he had found the interest of the Court so feebly and so badlydefended that he had been frequently tempted to go and offer it, inhimself, an aspiring champion, who knew the spirit of the age and nation. The Queen asked him what was the weapon he would have recommended her touse. 

"Popularity, Madame. "

"And how could I use that, " replied her Majesty, "of which I have beendeprived?"

"Ah! Madame, it was much more easy for you to regain it, than for me toacquire it. "

The Queen mainly attributed the arrest at Varennes to M. De Goguelat; shesaid he calculated the time that would be spent in the journeyerroneously. He performed that from Montmedy to Paris before taking theKing's last orders, alone in a post-chaise, and he founded all hiscalculations upon the time he spent thus. The trial has been made since, and it was found that a light carriage without any courier was nearlythree hours less in running the distance than a heavy carriage preceded bya courier. 

The Queen also blamed him for having quitted the high-road atPont-de-Sommevelle, where the carriage was to meet the forty hussarscommanded by him. She thought that he ought to have dispersed the verysmall number of people at Varennes, and not have asked the hussars whetherthey were for the King or the nation; that, particularly, he ought to haveavoided taking the King's orders, as he was previously aware of the replyM. D'Inisdal had received when it was proposed to carry off the King. 

After all that the Queen had said to me respecting the mistakes made by M. De Goguelat, I thought him of course disgraced. What was my surprisewhen, having been set at liberty after the amnesty which followed theacceptance of the constitution, he presented himself to the Queen, and wasreceived with the greatest kindness! She said he had done what he could, and that his zeal ought to form an excuse for all the rest. 

[Full details of the preparations for the flight to Varennes will be foundin "Le Comte de Fersen et La Cour de France, " Paris, Didot et Cie, 1878 (areview of which was given in the Quarterly Review for July, 1880), and inthe "Memoirs of the Marquis de Bouille", London, Cadell and Davis, 1797;Count Fersen being the person who planned the actual escape, and DeBouille being in command of the army which was to receive the King. Theplan was excellent, and would certainly have succeeded, if it had not beenfor the royal family themselves. Marie Antoinette, it will have been seenby Madame Campan's account, nearly wrecked the plan from inability to dowithout a large dressing or travelling case. The King did a more fatalthing. De Bouille had pointed out the necessity for having in the King'scarriage an officer knowing the route, and able to show himself to giveall directions, and a proper person had been provided. The King, however, objected, as "he could not have the Marquis d'Agoult in the same carriagewith himself; the governess of the royal children, who was to accompanythem, having refused to abandon her privilege of constantly remaining withher charge. " See "De Bouille, " pp. 307 and 334. Thus, when Louis wasrecognised at the window of the carriage by Drouet, he was lost by thevery danger that had been foreseen, and this wretched piece of etiquetteled to his death. ]

When the royal family was brought back from Varennes to the Tuileries, theQueen's attendants found the greatest difficulty in making their way toher apartments; everything had been arranged so that the wardrobe woman, who had acted as spy, should have the service; and she was to be assistedin it only by her sister and her sister's daughter. 

M. De Gouvion, M. De La Fayette's aide-de-camp, had this woman's portraitplaced at the foot of the staircase which led to the Queen's apartments, in order that the sentinel should not permit any other women to make theirway in. As soon as the Queen was informed of this contemptibleprecaution, she told the King of it, who sent to ascertain the fact. HisMajesty then called for M. De La Fayette, claimed freedom in hishousehold, and particularly in that of the Queen, and ordered him to senda woman in, whom no one but himself could confide out of the palace. M. DeLa Fayette was obliged to comply. 

On the day when the return of the royal family was expected, there were nocarriages in motion in the streets of Paris. Five or six of the Queen'swomen, after being refused admittance at all the other gates, went withone of my sisters to that of the Feuillans, insisting that the sentinelshould admit them. The poissardes attacked them for their boldness inresisting the order excluding them. One of them seized my sister by thearm, calling her the slave of the Austrian. "Hear me, " said my sister toher, "I have been attached to the Queen ever since I was fifteen years ofage; she gave me my marriage portion; I served her when she was powerfuland happy. She is now unfortunate. Ought I to abandon her?"--"She isright, " cried the poissardes; "she ought not to abandon her mistress; letus make an entry for them. " They instantly surrounded the sentinel, forced the passage, and introduced the Queen's women, accompanying them tothe terrace of the Feuillans. One of these furies, whom the slightestimpulse would have driven to tear my sister to pieces, taking her underher protection, gave her advice by which she might reach the palace insafety. "But of all things, my dear friend, " said she to her, "pull offthat green ribbon sash; it is the color of that D'Artois, whom we willnever forgive. "

The measures adopted for guarding the King were rigorous with respect tothe entrance into the palace, and insulting as to his private apartments. The commandants of battalion, stationed in the salon called the grandcabinet, and which led to the Queen's bedchamber, were ordered to keep thedoor of it always open, in order that they might have their eyes upon theroyal family. The King shut this door one day; the officer of the guardopened it, and told him such were his orders, and that he would alwaysopen it; so that his Majesty in shutting it gave himself useless trouble. It remained open even during the night, when the Queen was in bed; and theofficer placed himself in an armchair between the two doors, with his headturned towards her Majesty. They only obtained permission to have theinner door shut when the Queen was rising. The Queen had the bed of herfirst femme de chambre placed very near her own; this bed, which ran oncasters, and was furnished with curtains, hid her from the officer'ssight. 

Madame de Jarjaye, my companion, who continued her functions during thewhole period of my absence, told me that one night the commandant ofbattalion, who slept between the two doors, seeing that she was sleepingsoundly, and that the Queen was awake, quitted his post and went close toher Majesty, to advise her as to the line of conduct she should pursue. Although she had the kindness to desire him to speak lower in order thathe might not disturb Madame de Jarjaye's rest, the latter awoke, andnearly died with fright at seeing a man in the uniform of the Parisianguard so near the Queen's bed. Her Majesty comforted her, and told hernot to rise; that the person she saw was a good Frenchman, who wasdeceived respecting the intentions and situation of his sovereign andherself, but whose conversation showed sincere attachment to the King. 

There was a sentinel in the corridor which runs behind the apartments inquestion, where there is a staircase, which was at that time an inner one, and enabled the King and Queen to communicate freely. This post, whichwas very onerous, because it was to be kept four and twenty hours, wasoften claimed by Saint Prig, an actor belonging to the Theatre Francais. He took it upon himself sometimes to contrive brief interviews between theKing and Queen in this corridor. He left them at a distance, and gavethem warning if he heard the slightest noise. M. Collot, commandant ofbattalion of the National Guard, who was charged with the military duty ofthe Queen's household, in like manner softened down, so far as he couldwith prudence, all, the revolting orders he received; for instance, one tofollow the Queen to the very door of her wardrobe was never executed. Anofficer of the Parisian guard dared to speak insolently of the Queen inher own apartment. M. Collot wished to make a complaint to M. De LaFayette against him, and have him dismissed. The Queen opposed it, andcondescended to say a few words of explanation and kindness to the man; heinstantly became one of her most devoted partisans. 

The first time I saw her Majesty after the unfortunate catastrophe of theVarennes journey, I found her getting out of bed; her features were notvery much altered; but after the first kind words she uttered to me shetook off her cap and desired me to observe the effect which grief hadproduced upon her hair. It had become, in one single night, as white asthat of a woman of seventy. Her Majesty showed me a ring she had just hadmounted for the Princesse de Lamballe; it contained a lock of her whitenedhair, with the inscription, "Blanched by sorrow. " At the period of theacceptance of the constitution the Princess wished to return to France. The Queen, who had no expectation that tranquillity would be restored, opposed this; but the attachment of Madame de Lamballe to the royal familyimpelled her to come and seek death. 

When I returned to Paris most of the harsh precautions were abandoned; thedoors were not kept open; greater respect was paid to the sovereign; itwas known that the constitution soon to be completed would be accepted, and a better order of things was hoped for. 

CHAPTER VI. 

On my arrival at Paris on the 25th of August I found the state of feelingthere much more temperate than I had dared to hope. The conversationgenerally ran upon the acceptance of the constitution, and the fetes whichwould be given in consequence. The struggle between the Jacobins and theconstitutionals on the 17th of July, 1791, nevertheless had thrown theQueen into great terror for some moments; and the firing of the cannonfrom the Champ de Mars upon a party which called for a trial of the King, and the leaders of which were in the very bosom of the Assembly, left themost gloomy impressions upon her mind. 

The constitutionals, the Queen's connection with whom was not slackened bythe intervention of the three members already mentioned, had faithfullyserved the royal family during their detention. 

"We still hold the wire by which this popular mass is moved, " said Barnaveto M. De J----- one day, at the same time showing him a large volume, inwhich the names of all those who were influenced with the power of goldalone were registered. It was at that time proposed to hire aconsiderable number of persons in order to secure loud acclamations whenthe King and his family should make their appearance at the play upon theacceptance of the constitution. That day, which afforded a glimmeringhope of tranquillity, was the 14th of September; the fetes were brilliant;but already fresh anxieties forbade the royal family to encourage muchhope. 

The Legislative Assembly, which had just succeeded the ConstituentAssembly (October, 1791), founded its conduct upon the wildest republicanprinciples; created from the midst of popular assemblies, it was whollyinspired by the spirit which animated them. The constitution, as I havesaid, was presented to the King on the 3d of September, 1791. Theministers, with the exception of M. De Montmorin, insisted upon thenecessity of accepting the constitutional act in its entirety. The Princede Kaunitz--[Minister of Austria]--was of the same opinion. Malouet wishedthe King to express himself candidly respecting any errors or dangers thathe might observe in the constitution. But Duport and Barnave, alarmed atthe spirit prevailing in the Jacobin Club, and even in the Assembly, where Robespierre had already denounced them as traitors to the country, and dreading still greater evils, added their opinions to those of themajority of the ministers and M. De Kaunitz; those who really desiredthat the constitution should be maintained advised that it should not beaccepted thus literally. 

[The extreme revolutionary party, so called from the club, originally"Breton, " then "Amis de la Constitution, " sitting at the convent of theDominicans (called in France Jacobins) of the Rue Saint Honore. ]

The King seemed inclined to this advice; and this is one of thestrongest proofs of his sincerity. 

Alexandre Lameth, Duport, and Barnave, still relying on the resources oftheir party, hoped to have credit for directing the King through theinfluence they believed they had acquired over the mind of the Queen. Theyalso consulted people of acknowledged talent, but belonging to no councilnor to any assembly. Among these was M. Dubucq, formerly intendant of themarine and of the colonies. He answered laconically in one phrase:"Prevent disorder from organising itself. "

The letter written by the King to the Assembly, claiming to accept theconstitution in the very place where it had been created, and where heannounced he would be on the 14th September at mid-day, was received withtransport, and the reading was repeatedly interrupted by plaudits. Thesitting terminated amidst the greatest enthusiasm, and M. De La Fayetteobtained the release of all those who were detained on account of theKing's journey [to Varennes], the abandonment of all proceedings relativeto the events of the Revolution, and the discontinuance of the use ofpassports and of temporary restraints upon free travelling, as well in theinterior as without. The whole was conceded by acclamation. Sixtymembers were deputed to go to the King and express to him fully thesatisfaction his Majesty's letter had given. The Keeper of the Sealsquitted the chamber, in the midst of applause, to precede the deputationto the King. 

The King answered the speech addressed to him, and concluded by saying tothe Assembly that a decree of that morning, which had abolished the orderof the Holy Ghost, had left him and his son alone permission to bedecorated with it; but that an order having no value in his eyes, save forthe power of conferring it, he would not use it. 

The Queen, her son, and Madame, were at the door of the chamber into whichthe deputation was admitted. The King said to the deputies, "You seethere my wife and children, who participate in my sentiments;" and theQueen herself confirmed the King's assurance. These apparent marks ofconfidence were very inconsistent with the agitated state of her mind. "These people want no sovereigns, " said she. "We shall fall before theirtreacherous though well-planned tactics; they are demolishing the monarchystone by stone. "

Next day the particulars of the reception of the deputies by the King werereported to the Assembly, and excited warm approbation. But the Presidenthaving put the question whether the Assembly ought not to remain seatedwhile the King took the oath "Certainly, " was repeated by many voices;"and the King, standing, uncovered. " M. Malouet observed that there wasno occasion on which the nation, assembled in the presence of the King, did not acknowledge him as its head; that the omission to treat the headof the State with the respect due to him would be an offence to thenation, as well as to the monarch. He moved that the King should take theoath standing, and that the Assembly should also stand while he was doingso. M. Malouet's observations would have carried the decree, but a deputyfrom Brittany exclaimed, with a shrill voice, that he had an amendment topropose which would render all unanimous. "Let us decree, " said he, "thatM. Malouet, and whoever else shall so please, may have leave to receivethe King upon their knees; but let us stick to the decree. "

The King repaired to the chamber at mid-day. His speech was followed byplaudits which lasted several minutes. After the signing of theconstitutional act all sat down. The President rose to deliver hisspeech; but after he had begun, perceiving that the King did not rise tohear him, he sat down again. His speech made a powerful impression; thesentence with which it concluded excited fresh acclamations, cries of"Bravo!" and "Vive le Roi!"--"Sire, " said he, "how important in our eyes, and how dear to our hearts--how sublime a feature in our history--must bethe epoch of that regeneration which gives citizens to France, and acountry to Frenchmen, --to you, as a king, a new title of greatness andglory, and, as a man, a source of new enjoyment. " The whole Assemblyaccompanied the King on his return, amidst the people's cries ofhappiness, military music, and salvoes of artillery. 

At length I hoped to see a return of that tranquillity which had so longvanished from the countenances of my august master and mistress. Theirsuite left them in the salon; the Queen hastily saluted the ladies, andreturned much affected; the King followed her, and, throwing himself intoan armchair, put his handkerchief to his eyes. "Ah! Madame, " cried he, his voice choked by tears, "why were you present at this sitting? towitness--" these words were interrupted by sobs. The Queen threw herselfupon her knees before him, and pressed him in her arms. I remained withthem, not from any blamable curiosity, but from a stupefaction whichrendered me incapable of determining what I ought to do. The Queen saidto me, "Oh! go, go!" with an accent which expressed, "Do not remain to seethe dejection and despair of your sovereign!" I withdrew, struck with thecontrast between the shouts of joy without the palace and the profoundgrief which oppressed the sovereigns within. Half an hour afterwards theQueen sent for me. She desired to see M. De Goguelat, to announce to himhis departure on that very night for Vienna. The renewed attacks upon thedignity of the throne which had been made during the sitting; the spiritof an Assembly worse than the former; the monarch put upon a level withthe President, without any deference to the throne, --all this proclaimedbut too loudly that the sovereignty itself was aimed at. The Queen nolonger saw any ground for hope from the Provinces. The King wrote to theEmperor; she told me that she would herself, at midnight, bring the letterwhich M. De Goguelat was to bear to the Emperor, to my room. 

During all the remainder of the day the Chateau and the Tuileries werecrowded; the illuminations were magnificent. The King and Queen wererequested to take an airing in their carriage in the Champs-Elysees, escorted by the aides-decamp, and leaders of the Parisian army, theConstitutional Guard not being at the time organised. Many shouts of"Vive le Roi!" were heard; but as often as they ceased, one of the mob, who never quitted the door of the King's carriage for a single instant, exclaimed with a stentorian voice, "No, don't believe them! Vive laNation!" This ill-omened cry struck terror into the Queen. 

A few days afterwards M. De Montmorin sent to say he wanted to speak tome; that he would come to me, if he were not apprehensive his doing sowould attract observation; and that he thought it would appear lessconspicuous if he should see me in the Queen's great closet at a timewhich he specified, and when nobody would be there. I went. After havingmade some polite observations upon the services I had already performed, and those I might yet perform, for my master and mistress, he spoke to meof the King's imminent danger, of the plots which were hatching, and ofthe lamentable composition of the Legislative Assembly; and heparticularly dwelt upon the necessity of appearing, by prudent remarks, determined as much as possible to abide by the act the King had justrecognised. I told him that could not be done without committingourselves in the eyes of the royalist party, with which moderation was acrime; that it was painful to hear ourselves taxed with beingconstitutionalists, at the same time that it was our opinion that the onlyconstitution which was consistent with the King's honour, and thehappiness and tranquillity of his people, was the absolute power of thesovereign; that this was my creed, and it would pain me to give any roomfor suspicion that I was wavering in it. 

"Could you ever believe, " said he, "that I should desire any other orderof things? Have you any doubt of my attachment to the King's person, andthe maintenance of his rights?"

"I know it, Count, " replied I; "but you are not ignorant that you lieunder the imputation of having adopted revolutionary ideas. "

"Well, madame, have resolution enough to dissemble and to conceal yourreal sentiments; dissimulation was never more necessary. Endeavours arebeing made to paralyse the evil intentions of the factious as much aspossible; but we must not be counteracted here by certain dangerousexpressions which are circulated in Paris as coming from the King andQueen. "

I told him that I had been already struck with apprehension of the evilwhich might be done by the intemperate observations of persons who had nopower to act; and that I had felt ill consequences from having repeatedlyenjoined silence on those in the Queen's service. 

"I know that, " said the Count; "the Queen informed me of it, and thatdetermined me to come and request you to increase and keep alive, as muchas you can, that spirit of discretion which is so necessary. "

While the household of the King and Queen were a prey to all these fears, the festivities in celebration of the acceptance of the constitutionproceeded. Their Majesties went to the Opera; the audience consistedentirely of persons who sided with the King, and on that day the happinessof seeing him for a short time surrounded by faithful subjects might beenjoyed. The acclamations were then sincere. 

"La Coquette Corrigee" had been selected for representation at the TheatreFrancais solely because it was the piece in which Mademoiselle Contatshone most. Yet the notions propagated by the Queen's enemies coincidingin my mind with the name of the play, I thought the choice veryill-judged. I was at a loss, however, how to tell her Majesty so; butsincere attachment gives courage. I explained myself; she was obliged tome, and desired that another play might be performed. They accordinglyselected "La Gouvernante, " almost equally unfortunate in title. 

The Queen, Madame the King's daughter, and Madame Elisabeth were all wellreceived on this occasion. It is true that the opinions and feelings ofthe spectators in the boxes could not be otherwise than favourable, andgreat pains had been taken, previously to these two performances, to fillthe pit with proper persons. But, on the other hand, the Jacobins tookthe same precautions on their side at the Theatre Italien, and the tumultwas excessive there. The play was Gretry's "Les Evenements Imprevus. "Unfortunately, Madame Dugazon thought proper to bow to the Queen as shesang the words, "Ah, how I love my mistress!" in a duet. Above twentyvoices immediately exclaimed from the pit, "No mistress! no master!liberty!" A few replied from the boxes and slips, "Vive le Roi! vive laReine!" Those in the pit answered, "No master! no Queen!" The quarrelincreased; the pit formed into parties; they began fighting, and theJacobins were beaten; tufts of their black hair flew about thetheatre. --[At this time none but the Jacobins had discontinued the use ofhairpowder. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]--A military guard arrived. The Faubourg St. Antoine, hearing of what was going on at the Theatre Italien, flockedtogether, and began to talk of marching towards the scene of action. TheQueen preserved the calmest demeanour; the commandants of the guardsurrounded and encouraged her; they conducted themselves promptly anddiscreetly. No accident happened. The Queen was highly applauded as shequitted the theatre; it was the last time she was ever in one!

While couriers were bearing confidential letters from the King to thePrinces, his brothers, and to the foreign sovereigns, the Assembly invitedhim to write to the Princes in order to induce them to return to France. The King desired the Abbe de Montesquiou to write the letter he was tosend; this letter, which was admirably composed in a simple and affectingstyle, suited to the character of Louis XVI. , and filled with verypowerful arguments in favour of the advantages to be derived from adoptingthe principles of the constitution, was confided to me by the King, whodesired me to make him a copy of it. 

At this period M. M-----, one of the intendants of Monsieur's household, obtained a passport from the Assembly to join that Prince on businessrelative to his domestic concerns. The Queen selected him to be thebearer of this letter. She determined to give it to him herself, and toinform him of its object. I was astonished at her choice of this courier. The Queen assured me he was exactly the man for her purpose, that sherelied even upon his indiscretion, and that it was merely necessary thatthe letter from the King to his brothers should be known to exist. ThePrinces were doubtless informed beforehand on the subject by the privatecorrespondence. Monsieur nevertheless manifested some degree of surprise, and the messenger returned more grieved than pleased at this mark ofconfidence, which nearly cost him his life during the Reign of Terror. 

Among the causes of uneasiness to the Queen there was one which was buttoo well founded, the thoughtlessness of the French whom she sent toforeign Courts. She used to say that they had no sooner passed thefrontiers than they disclosed the most secret matters relative to theKing's private sentiments, and that the leaders of the Revolution wereinformed of them through their agents, many of whom were Frenchmen whopassed themselves off as emigrants in the cause of their King. 

After the acceptance of the constitution, the formation of the King'shousehold, as well military as civil, formed a subject of attention. TheDuc de Brissac had the command of the Constitutional Guard, which wascomposed of officers and men selected from the regiments, and of severalofficers drawn from the National Guard of Paris. The King was satisfiedwith the feelings and conduct of this band, which, as is well known, existed but a very short time. 

The new constitution abolished what were called honours, and theprerogatives belonging to them. The Duchesse de Duras resigned her placeof lady of the bedchamber, not choosing to lose her right to the tabouretat Court. This step hurt the Queen, who saw herself forsaken through theloss of a petty privilege at a time when her own rights and even life wereso hotly attacked. Many ladies of rank left the Court for the samereason. However, the King and Queen did not dare to form the civil partof their household, lest by giving the new names of the posts they shouldacknowledge the abolition of the old ones, and also lest they should admitinto the highest positions persons not calculated to fill them well. Sometime was spent in discussing the question, whether the household should beformed without chevaliers and without ladies of honour. The Queen'sconstitutional advisers were of opinion that the Assembly, having decreeda civil list adequate to uphold the splendour of the throne, would bedissatisfied at seeing the King adopting only a military household, andnot forming his civil household upon the new constitutional plan. "How isit, Madame, " wrote Barnave to the Queen, "that you will persist in givingthese people even the smallest doubt as to your sentiments? When theydecree you a civil and a military household, you, like young Achillesamong the daughters of Lycomedes, eagerly seize the sword and scorn themere ornaments. " The Queen persisted in her determination to have nocivil household. "If, " said she, "this constitutional household beformed, not a single person of rank will remain with us, and upon a changeof affairs we should be obliged to discharge the persons received intotheir place. "

"Perhaps, " added she, "perhaps I might find one day that I had saved thenobility, if I now had resolution enough to afflict them for a time; Ihave it not. When any measure which injures them is wrested from us theysulk with me; nobody comes to my card party; the King goes unattended tobed. No allowance is made for political necessity; we are punished forour very misfortunes. "

The Queen wrote almost all day, and spent part of the night in reading:her courage supported her physical strength; her disposition was not atall soured by misfortunes, and she was never seen in an ill-humour for amoment. She was, however, held up to the people as a woman absolutelyfurious and mad whenever the rights of the Crown were in any way attacked. 

I was with her one day at one of her windows. We saw a man plainlydressed, like an ecclesiastic, surrounded by an immense crowd. The Queenimagined it was some abbe whom they were about to throw into the basin ofthe Tuileries; she hastily opened her window and sent a valet de chambreto know what was going forward in the garden. It was Abbe Gregoire, whomthe men and women of the tribunes were bringing back in triumph, onaccount of a motion he had just made in the National Assembly against theroyal authority. On the following day the democratic journalistsdescribed the Queen as witnessing this triumph, and showing, by expressivegestures at her window, how highly she was exasperated by the honoursconferred upon the patriot. 

The correspondence between the Queen and the foreign powers was carried onin cipher. That to which she gave the preference can never be detected;but the greatest patience is requisite for its use. Each correspondentmust have a copy of the same edition of some work. She selected "Paul andVirginia. " The page and line in which the letters required, andoccasionally a monosyllable, are to be found are pointed out in ciphersagreed upon. I assisted her in finding the letters, and frequently I madean exact copy for her of all that she had ciphered, without knowing asingle word of its meaning. 

There were always several secret committees in Paris occupied incollecting information for the King respecting the measures of thefactions, and in influencing some of the committees of the Assembly. M. Bertrand de Molleville was in close correspondence with the Queen. TheKing employed M. Talon and others; much money was expended through thelatter channel for the secret measures. The Queen had no confidence inthem. M. De Laporte, minister of the civil list and of the household, also attempted to give a bias to public opinion by means of hirelingpublications; but these papers influenced none but the royalist party, which did not need influencing. M. De Laporte had a private police whichgave him some useful information. 

I determined to sacrifice myself to my duty, but by no means to anyintrigue, and I thought that, circumstanced as I was, I ought to confinemyself to obeying the Queen's orders. I frequently sent off couriers toforeign countries, and they were never discovered, so many precautions didI take. I am indebted for the preservation of my own existence to thecare I took never to admit any deputy to my abode, and to refuse allinterviews which even people of the highest importance often requested ofme; but this line of conduct exposed me to every species of ill-will, andon the same day I saw myself denounced by Prud'homme, in his 'GazetteRevolutionnaire', as capable of making an aristocrat of the mother of theGracchi, if a person so dangerous as myself could have got into herhousehold; and by Gauthier's Gazette Royaliste, as a monarchist, aconstitutionalist, more dangerous to the Queen's interests than a Jacobin. 

At this period an event with which I had nothing to do placed me in astill more critical situation. My brother, M. Genet, began his diplomaticcareer successfully. At eighteen he was attached to the embassy toVienna; at twenty he was appointed chief secretary of Legation in England, on occasion of the peace of 1783. A memorial which he presented to M. DeVergennes upon the dangers of the treaty of commerce then entered intowith England gave offence to M. De Calonne, a patron of that treaty, andparticularly to M. Gerard de Rayneval, chief clerk for foreign affairs. So long as M. De Vergennes lived, having upon my father's death declaredhimself the protector of my brother, he supported him against the enemieshis views had created. But on his death M. De Montmorin, being much inneed of the long experience in business which he found in M. De Rayneval, was guided solely by the latter. The office of which my brother was thehead was suppressed. He then went to St. Petersburg, strongly recommendedto the Comte de Segur, minister from France to that Court, who appointedhim secretary of Legation. Some time afterwards the Comte de Segur lefthim at St. Petersburg, charged with the affairs of France. After hisreturn from Russia, M. Genet was appointed ambassador to the United Statesby the party called Girondists, the deputies who headed it being from thedepartment of the Gironde. He was recalled by the Robespierre party, which overthrew the former faction, on the 31st of May, 1793, andcondemned to appear before the Convention. Vice-President Clinton, atthat time Governor of New York, offered him an asylum in his house and thehand of his daughter, and M. Genet established himself prosperously inAmerica. 

When my brother quitted Versailles he was much hurt at being deprived of aconsiderable income for having penned a memorial which his zeal alone haddictated, and the importance of which was afterwards but too wellunderstood. I perceived from his correspondence that he inclined to someof the new notions. He told me it was right he should no longer concealfrom me that he sided with the constitutional party; that the King had infact commanded it, having himself accepted the constitution; that he wouldproceed firmly in that course, because in this case disingenuousness wouldbe fatal, and that he took that side of the question because he had had itproved to him that the foreign powers would not serve the King's causewithout advancing pretensions prompted by long-standing interests, whichalways would influence their councils; that he saw no salvation for theKing and Queen but from within France, and that he would serve theconstitutional King as he served him before the Revolution. And lastly, he requested me to impart to the Queen the real sentiments of one of hisMajesty's agents at a foreign Court. I immediately went to the Queen andgave her my brother's letter; she read it attentively, and said, "This isthe letter of a young man led astray by discontent and ambition; I knowyou do not think as he does; do not fear that you will lose the confidenceof the King and myself. " I offered to discontinue all correspondence withmy brother; she opposed that, saying it would be dangerous. I thenentreated she would permit me in future to show her my own and mybrother's letters, to which she consented. I wrote warmly to my brotheragainst the course he had adopted. I sent my letters by sure channels; heanswered me by the post, and no longer touched upon anything but familyaffairs. Once only he informed me that if I should write to himrespecting the affairs of the day he would give me no answer. "Serve youraugust mistress with the unbounded devotion which is due from you, " saidhe, "and let us each do our duty. I will only observe to you that atParis the fogs of the Seine often prevent people from seeing that immensecapital, even from the Pavilion of Flora, and I see it more clearly fromSt. Petersburg. " The Queen said, as she read this letter, "Perhaps hespeaks but too truly; who can decide upon so disastrous a position as ourshas become?" The day on which I gave the Queen my brother's first letterto read she had several audiences to give to ladies and other personsbelonging to the Court, who came on purpose to inform her that my brotherwas an avowed constitutionalist and revolutionist. The Queen replied, "Iknow it; Madame Campan has told me so. " Persons jealous of my situationhaving subjected me to mortifications, and these unpleasant circumstancesrecurring daily, I requested the Queen's permission to withdraw fromCourt. She exclaimed against the very idea, represented it to me asextremely dangerous for my own reputation, and had the kindness to addthat, for my sake as well as for her own, she never would consent to it. After this conversation I retired to my apartment. A few minutes later afootman brought me this note from the Queen: "I have never ceased to giveyou and yours proofs of my attachment; I wish to tell you in writing thatI have full faith in your honour and fidelity, as well as in your othergood qualities; and that I ever rely on the zeal and address you exert toserve me. "

[I had just received this letter from the Queen when M. De la Chapelle, commissary-general of the King's household, and head of the offices of M. De Laporte, minister of the civil list, came to see me. The palace havingbeen already sacked by the brigands on the 20th of June, 1792, he proposedthat I should entrust the paper to him, that he might place it in a safersituation than the apartments of the Queen. When he returned into hisoffices he placed the letter she had condescended to write to me behind alarge picture in his closet; but on the loth of August M. De la Chapellewas thrown into the prisons of the Abbaye, and the committee of publicsafety established themselves in his offices, whence they issued all theirdecrees of death. There it was that a villainous servant belonging to M. De Laporte went to declare that in the minister's apartments, under aboard in the floor, a number of papers would be found. They were broughtforth, and M. De Laporte was sent to the scaffold, where he suffered forhaving betrayed the State by serving his master and sovereign. M. De laChapelle was saved, as if by a miracle, from the massacres of the 2d ofSeptember. The committee of public safety having removed to the King'sapartments at the Tuileries, M. De la Chapelle had permission to return tohis closet to take away some property belonging to him. Turning round thepicture, behind which he had hidden the Queen's letter, he found it in theplace into which he had slipped it, and, delighted to see that I was safefrom the ill consequences the discovery of this paper might have broughtupon me, he burnt it instantly. In times of danger a mere nothing maysave life or destroy it. --MADAME CAMPAN]

At the moment that I was going to express my gratitude to the Queen Iheard a tapping at the door of my room, which opened upon the Queen'sinner corridor. I opened it; it was the King. I was confused; heperceived it, and said to me, kindly: "I alarm you, Madame Campan; I come, however, to comfort you; the Queen has told me how much she is hurt at theinjustice of several persons towards you. But how is it that you complainof injustice and calumny when you see that we are victims of them? Insome of your companions it is jealousy; in the people belonging to theCourt it is anxiety. Our situation is so disastrous, and we have met withso much ingratitude and treachery, that the apprehensions of those wholove us are excusable! I could quiet them by telling them all the secretservices you perform for us daily; but I will not do it. Out of good-willto you they would repeat all I should say, and you would be lost with theAssembly. It is much better, both for you and for us, that you should bethought a constitutionalist. It has been mentioned to me a hundred timesalready; I have never contradicted it; but I come to give you my word thatif we are fortunate enough to see an end of all this, I will, at theQueen's residence, and in the presence of my brothers, relate theimportant services you have rendered us, and I will recompense you andyour son for them. " I threw myself at the King's feet and kissed hishand. He raised me up, saying, "Come, come, do not grieve; the Queen, wholoves you, confides in you as I do. "

Down to the day of the acceptance it was impossible to introduce Barnaveinto the interior of the palace; but when the Queen was free from theinner guard she said she would see him. The very great precautions whichit was necessary for the deputy to take in order to conceal his connectionwith the King and Queen compelled them to spend two hours waiting for himin one of the corridors of the Tuileries, and all in vain. The first daythat he was to be admitted, a man whom Barnave knew to be dangerous havingmet him in the courtyard of the palace, he determined to cross it withoutstopping, and walked in the gardens in order to lull suspicion. I wasdesired to wait for Barnave at a little door belonging to the entresols ofthe palace, with my hand upon the open lock. I was in that position foran hour. The King came to me frequently, and always to speak to me of theuneasiness which a servant belonging to the Chateau, who was a patriot, gave him. He came again to ask me whether I had heard the door called deDecret opened. I assured him nobody had been in the corridor, and hebecame easy. He was dreadfully apprehensive that his connection withBarnave would be discovered. "It would, " said the King, "be a ground forgrave accusations, and the unfortunate man would be lost. " I thenventured to remind his Majesty that as Barnave was not the only one in thesecret of the business which brought him in contact with their Majesties, one of his colleagues might be induced to speak of the association withwhich they were honoured, and that in letting them know by my presencethat I also was informed of it, a risk was incurred of removing from thosegentlemen part of the responsibility of the secret. Upon this observationthe King quitted me hastily and returned a moment afterwards with theQueen. "Give me your place, " said she; "I will wait for him in my turn. You have convinced the King. We must not increase in their eyes thenumber of persons informed of their communications with us. "

The police of M. De Laporte, intendant of the civil list, apprised him, asearly as the latter end of 1791, that a man belonging to the King'soffices who had set up as a pastrycook at the Palais Royal was about toresume the duties of his situation, which had devolved upon him again onthe death of one who held it for life; that he was so furious a Jacobinthat he had dared to say it would be a good thing for France if the King'sdays were shortened. His duty was confined to making the pastry; he wasclosely watched by the head officers of the kitchen, who were devoted tohis Majesty; but it is so easy to introduce a subtle poison into madedishes that it was determined the King and Queen should eat only plainroast meat in future; that their bread should be brought to them by M. Thierry de Ville-d'Avray, intendant of the smaller apartments, and that heshould likewise take upon himself to supply the wine. The King was fondof pastry; I was directed to order some, as if for myself, sometimes ofone pastry-cook, and sometimes of another. The pounded sugar, too, waskept in my room. The King, the Queen, and Madame Elisabeth ate together, and nobody remained to wait on them. Each had a dumb waiter and a littlebell to call the servants when they were wanted. M. Thierry used himselfto bring me their Majesties' bread and wine, and I locked them up in aprivate cupboard in the King's closet on the ground floor. As soon as theKing sat down to table I took in the pastry and bread. All was hiddenunder the table lest it might be necessary to have the servants in. TheKing thought it dangerous as well as distressing to show any apprehensionof attempts against his person, or any mistrust of his officers of thekitchen. As he never drank a whole bottle of wine at his meals (thePrincesses drank nothing but water), he filled up that out of which he haddrunk about half from the bottle served up by the officers of his butlery. I took it away after dinner. Although he never ate any other pastry thanthat which I brought, he took care in the same manner that it should seemthat he had eaten of that served at table. The lady who succeeded me foundthis duty all regulated, and she executed it in the same manner; thepublic never was in possession of these particulars, nor of theapprehensions which gave rise to them. At the end of three or four monthsthe police of M. De Laporte gave notice that nothing more was to bedreaded from that sort of plot against the King's life; that the plan wasentirely changed; and that all the blows now to be struck would bedirected as much against the throne as against the person of thesovereign. 

There are others besides myself who know that at this time one of thethings about which the Queen most desired to be satisfied was the opinionof the famous Pitt. She would sometimes say to me, "I never pronounce thename of Pitt without feeling a chill like that of death. " (I repeat hereher very expressions. ) "That man is the mortal enemy of France; and hetakes a dreadful revenge for the impolitic support given by the Cabinet ofVersailles to the American insurgents. He wishes by our destruction toguarantee the maritime power of his country forever against the effortsmade by the King to improve his marine power and their happy resultsduring the last war. He knows that it is not only the King's policy buthis private inclination to be solicitous about his fleets, and that themost active step he has taken during his whole reign was to visit the portof Cherbourg. Pitt had served the cause of the French Revolution from thefirst disturbances; he will perhaps serve it until its annihilation. Iwill endeavour to learn to what point he intends to lead us, and I amsending M. ----- to London for that purpose. He has been intimatelyconnected with Pitt, and they have often had political conversationsrespecting the French Government. I will get him to make him speak out, at least so far as such a man can speak out. " Some time afterwards theQueen told me that her secret envoy was returned from London, and that allhe had been able to wring from Pitt, whom he found alarmingly reserved, was that he would not suffer the French monarchy to perish; that to sufferthe revolutionary spirit to erect an organised republic in France would bea great error, affecting the tranquillity of Europe. "Whenever, " saidshe, "Pitt expressed himself upon the necessity of supporting monarchy inFrance, he maintained the most profound silence upon what concerns themonarch. The result of these conversations is anything but encouraging;but, even as to that monarchy which he wishes to save, will he have meansand strength to save it if he suffers us to fall?"

The death of the Emperor Leopold took place on the 1st of March, 1792. When the news of this event reached the Tuileries, the Queen was gone out. Upon her return I put the letter containing it into her hands. Sheexclaimed that the Emperor had been poisoned; that she had remarked andpreserved a newspaper, in which, in an article upon the sitting of theJacobins, at the time when the Emperor Leopold declared for the coalition, it was said, speaking of him, that a pie-crust would settle that matter. At this period Barnave obtained the Queen's consent that he should readall the letters she should write. He was fearful of privatecorrespondences that might hamper the plan marked out for her; hemistrusted her Majesty's sincerity on this point; and the diversity ofcounsels, and the necessity of yielding, on the one hand, to some of theviews of the constitutionalists, and on the other, to those of the FrenchPrinces, and even of foreign Courts, were unfortunately the circumstanceswhich most rapidly impelled the Court towards its ruin. 

However, the emigrants showed great apprehensions of the consequenceswhich might follow in the interior from a connection with theconstitutionalists, whom they described as a party existing only in idea, and totally without means of repairing their errors. The Jacobins werepreferred to them, because, said they, there would be no treaty to be madewith any one at the moment of extricating the King and his family from theabyss in which they were plunged. 

CHAPTER VII. 

In the beginning of the year 1792, a worthy priest requested a privateinterview with me. He had learned the existence of a new libel by Madamede Lamotte. He told me that the people who came from London to get itprinted in Paris only desired gain, and that they were ready to deliverthe manuscript to him for a thousand louis, if he could find any friend ofthe Queen disposed to make that sacrifice for her peace; that he hadthought of me, and if her Majesty would give him the twenty-four thousandfrancs, he would hand the manuscript to me. 

I communicated this proposal to the Queen, who rejected it, and desired meto answer that at the time when she had power to punish the hawkers ofthese libels she deemed them so atrocious and incredible that she despisedthem too much to stop them; that if she were imprudent and weak enough tobuy a single one of them, the Jacobins might possibly discover thecircumstance through their espionage; that were this libel brought up, itwould be printed nevertheless, and would be much more dangerous when theyapprised the public of the means she had used to suppress it. 

Baron d'Aubier, gentleman-in-ordinary to the King, and my particularfriend, had a good memory and a clear way of communicating the substanceof the debates and decrees of the National Assembly. I went daily to theQueen's apartments to repeat all this to the King, who used to say, onseeing me, "Ah! here's the Postillon par Calais, "--a newspaper of thetime. 

M. D'Aubier one day said to me: "The Assembly has been much occupied withan information laid by the workmen of the Sevres manufactory. Theybrought to the President's office a bundle of pamphlets which they saidwere the life of Marie Antoinette. The director of the manufactory wasordered up to the bar, and declared he had received orders to burn theprinted sheets in question in the furnaces used for baking his china. "

While I was relating this business to the Queen the King coloured and heldhis head down over his plate. The Queen said to him, "Do you knowanything about this, Sire?" The King made no answer. Madame Elisabethrequested him to explain what it meant. Louis was still silent. Iwithdrew hastily. A few minutes afterwards the Queen came to my room andinformed me that the King, out of regard for her, had purchased the wholeedition struck off from the manuscript which I had mentioned to her, andthat M. De Laporte had not been able to devise any more secret way ofdestroying the work than that of having it burnt at Sevres, among twohundred workmen, one hundred and eighty of whom must, in all probability, be Jacobins! She told me she had concealed her vexation from the King;that he was in consternation, and that she could say nothing, since hisgood intentions and his affection for her had been the cause of themistake. 

[M. De Laporte had by order of the King bought up the whole edition of the"Memoirs" of the notorious Madame de Lamotte against the Queen. Insteadof destroying them immediately, he shut them up in one of the closets inhis house, The alarming and rapid growth of the rebellion, the arroganceof the crowd of brigands, who in great measure composed the populace ofParis, and the fresh excesses daily resulting from it, rendered theintendant of the civil list apprehensive that some mob might break intohis house, carry off these "Memoirs, " and spread them among the public. In order to prevent this he gave orders to have the "Memoirs" burnt withevery necessary precaution; and the clerk who received the order entrustedthe execution of it to a man named Riston, a dangerous Intriguer, formerlyan advocate of Nancy, who had a twelve-month before escaped the gallows byfavour of the new principles and the patriotism of the new tribunals, although convicted of forging the great seal, and fabricating decrees ofthe council. This Riston, finding himself entrusted with a commissionwhich concerned her Majesty, and the mystery attending which bespokesomething of importance, was less anxious to execute it faithfully than tomake a parade of this mark of confidence. On the 30th of May, at ten inthe morning, he had the sheets carried to the porcelain manufactory atSevres, in a cart which he himself accompanied, and made a large fire ofthem before all the workmen, who were expressly forbidden to approach it. All these precautions, and the suspicions to which they gave rise, undersuch critical circumstances, gave so much publicity to this affair that itwas denounced to the Assembly that very night. Brissot, and the wholeJacobin party, with equal effrontery and vehemence, insisted that thepapers thus secretly burnt could be no other than the registers anddocuments of the correspondence of the Austrian committee. M. De Laportewas ordered to the bar, and there gave the most precise account of thecircumstances. Riston was also called up, and confirmed M. De Laporte'sdeposition. But these explanations, however satisfactory, did not calmthe violent ferment raised in the Assembly by this affair. --"Memoirs ofBertrand de Molleville. "]

Some time afterwards the Assembly received a denunciation against M. DeMontmorin. The ex-minister was accused of having neglected fortydespatches from M. Genet, the charge d'affaires from France in Russia, nothaving even unsealed them, because M. Genet acted on constitutionalprinciples. M. De Montmorin appeared at the bar to answer thisaccusation. Whatever distress I might feel in obeying the order I hadreceived from the King to go and give him an account of the sitting, Ithought I ought not to fail in doing so. But instead of giving my brotherhis family name, I merely said "your Majesty's charge d'affaires at St. Petersburg. "

The King did me the favour to say that he noticed a reserve in my account, of which he approved. The Queen condescended to add a few obligingremarks to those of the King. However, my office of journalist gave me inthis instance so much pain that I took an opportunity, when the King wasexpressing his satisfaction to me at the manner in which I gave him thisdaily account, to tell him that its merits belonged wholly to M. D'Aubier;and I ventured to request the King to suffer that excellent man to givehim an account of the sittings himself. I assured the King that if hewould permit it, that gentleman might proceed to the Queen's apartmentsthrough mine unseen; the King consented to the arrangement. ThenceforwardM. D'Aubier gave the King repeated proofs of zeal and attachment. 

The Cure of St. Eustache ceased to be the Queen's confessor when he tookthe constitutional oath. I do not remember the name of the ecclesiasticwho succeeded him; I only know that he was conducted into her apartmentswith the greatest mystery. Their Majesties did not perform their Easterdevotions in public, because they could neither declare for theconstitutional clergy, nor act so as to show that they were against them. 

The Queen did perform her Easter devotions in 1792; but she went to thechapel attended only by myself. She desired me beforehand to request oneof my relations, who was her chaplain, to celebrate a mass for her at fiveo'clock in the morning. It was still dark; she gave me her arm, and Ilighted her with a taper. I left her alone at the chapel door. She didnot return to her room until the dawn of day. 

Dangers increased daily. The Assembly were strengthened in the eyes ofthe people by the hostilities of the foreign armies and the army of thePrinces. The communication with the latter party became more active; theQueen wrote almost every day. M. De Goguelat possessed her confidence forall correspondence with the foreign parties, and I was obliged to have himin my apartments; the Queen asked for him very frequently, and at timeswhich she could not previously appoint. 

All parties were exerting themselves either to ruin or to save the King. One day I found the Queen extremely agitated; she told me she no longerknew where she was; that the leaders of the Jacobins offered themselves toher through the medium of Dumouriez; or that Dumouriez, abandoning theJacobins, had come and offered himself to her; that she had granted him anaudience; that when alone with her, he had thrown himself at her feet, andtold her that he had drawn the 'bonnet rouge' over his head to the veryears; but that he neither was nor could be a Jacobin; that the Revolutionhad been suffered to extend even to that rabble of destroyers who, thinking of nothing but pillage, were ripe for anything, and might furnishthe Assembly with a formidable army, ready to undermine the remains of athrone already but too much shaken. Whilst speaking with the utmostardour he seized the Queen's hand and kissed it with transport, exclaiming, "Suffer yourself to be saved!" The Queen told me that theprotestations of a traitor were not to be relied on; that the whole ofhis conduct was so well known that undoubtedly the wisest course was notto trust to it; that, moreover, the Princes particularly recommendedthat no confidence should be placed in any proposition emanating fromwithin the kingdom; that the force without became imposing; and that itwas better to rely upon their success, and upon the protection due fromHeaven to a sovereign so virtuous as Louis XVI. And to so just a cause. 

[The sincerity of General Dumouriez cannot be doubted in this instance. The second volume of his Memoirs shows how unjust the mistrust andreproaches of the Queen were. By rejecting his services, Marie Antoinettedeprived herself of her only remaining support. He who saved France inthe defiles of Argonne would perhaps have saved France before the 20th ofJune, had he obtained the full confidence of Louis XVI. And theQueen. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

The constitutionalists, on their part, saw that there had been nothingmore than a pretence of listening to them. Barnave's last advice was asto the means of continuing, a few weeks longer, the Constitutional Guard, which had been denounced to the Assembly, and was to be disbanded. Thedenunciation against the Constitutional Guard affected only its staff, andthe Duc de Brissac. Barnave wrote to the Queen that the staff of theguard was already attacked; that the Assembly was about to pass a decreeto reduce it; and he entreated her to prevail on the King, the veryinstant the decree should appear, to form the staff afresh of personswhose names he sent her. Barnave said that all who were set down in itpassed for decided Jacobins, but were not so in fact; that they, as wellas himself, were in despair at seeing the monarchical government attacked;that they had learnt to dissemble their sentiments, and that it would beat least a fortnight before the Assembly could know them well, andcertainly before it could succeed in making them unpopular; that it wouldbe necessary to take advantage of that short space of time to get awayfrom Paris, immediately after their nomination. The Queen was of opinionthat she ought not to yield to this advice. The Duc de Brissac was sentto Orleans, and the guard was disbanded. 

Barnave, seeing that the Queen did not follow his counsel in anything, andconvinced that she placed all her reliance on assistance from abroad, determined to quit Paris. He obtained a last audience. "Yourmisfortunes, Madame, " said he, "and those which I anticipate for France, determined me to sacrifice myself to serve you. I see, however, that myadvice does not agree with the views of your Majesties. I augur butlittle advantage from the plan you are induced to pursue, --you are tooremote from your succours; you will be lost before they reach you. Mostardently do I wish I may be mistaken in so lamentable a prediction; but Iam sure to pay with my head for the interest your misfortunes have raisedin me, and the services I have sought to render you. I request, for mysole reward, the honour of kissing your hand. " The Queen, her eyessuffused with tears, granted him that favour, and remained impressed witha favourable idea of his sentiments. Madame Elisabeth participated inthis opinion, and the two Princesses frequently spoke of Barnave. TheQueen also received M. Duport several times, but with less mystery. Herconnection with the constitutional deputies transpired. Alexandre deLameth was the only one of the three who survived the vengeance of theJacobins. 

[Barnave was arrested at Grenoble. He remained in prison in that townfifteen months, and his friends began to hope that he would be forgotten, when an order arrived that he should be removed to Paris. At first he wasimprisoned in the Abbaye, but transferred to the Conciergerie, and almostimmediately taken before the revolutionary tribunal. He appeared therewith wonderful firmness, summed up the services he had rendered to thecause of liberty with his usual eloquence, and made such an impressionupon the numerous auditors that, although accustomed to behold onlyconspirators worthy of death in all those who appeared before thetribunal, they themselves considered his acquittal certain. The decree ofdeath was read amidst the deepest silence; but Barnave'a firmness wasimmovable. When he left the court, he cast upon the judges, the jurors, and the public looks expressive of contempt and indignation. He was ledto his fate with the respected Duport du Tertre, one of the last ministersof Louis XVI. When he had ascended the scaffold, Barnave stamped, raisedhis eyes to heaven, and said: "This, then, is the reward of all that Ihave done for liberty!" He fell on the 29th of October, 1793, in thethirty-second year of his age; his bust was placed in the Grenoble Museum. The Consular Government placed his statue next to that of Vergniaud, onthe great staircase of the palace of the Senate. --"Biographie deBruxelles. "]

The National Guard, which succeeded the King's Guard, having occupied thegates of the Tuileries, all who came to see the Queen were insulted withimpunity. Menacing cries were uttered aloud even in the Tuileries; theycalled for the destruction of the throne, and the murder of the sovereign;the grossest insults were offered by the very lowest of the mob. 

About this time the King fell into a despondent state, which amountedalmost to physical helplessness. He passed ten successive days withoututtering a single word, even in the bosom of his family; except, indeed, when playing at backgammon after dinner with Madame Elisabeth. The Queenroused him from this state, so fatal at a critical period, by throwingherself at his feet, urging every alarming idea, and employing everyaffectionate expression. She represented also what he owed to his family;and told him that if they were doomed to fall they ought to fallhonourably, and not wait to be smothered upon the floor of theirapartment. 

About the 15th of June, 1792, the King refused his sanction to the twodecrees ordaining the deportation of priests and the formation of a campof twenty thousand men under the walls of Paris. He himself wished tosanction them, and said that the general insurrection only waited for apretence to burst forth. The Queen insisted upon the veto, and reproachedherself bitterly when this last act of the constitutional authority hadoccasioned the day of the 20th of June. 

A few days previously about twenty thousand men had gone to the Commune toannounce that, on the 20th, they would plant the tree of liberty at thedoor of the National Assembly, and present a petition to the Kingrespecting the veto which he had placed upon the decree for thedeportation of the priests. This dreadful army crossed the garden of theTuileries, and marched under the Queen's windows; it consisted of peoplewho called themselves the citizens of the Faubourgs St. Antoine and St. Marceau. Clothed in filthy rags, they bore a most terrifying appearance, and even infected the air. People asked each other where such an armycould come from; nothing so disgusting had ever before appeared in Paris. 

On the 20th of June this mob thronged about the Tuileries in still greaternumbers, armed with pikes, hatchets, and murderous instruments of allkinds, decorated with ribbons of the national colours, Shouting, "Thenation for ever! Down with the veto!" The King was without guards. Someof these desperadoes rushed up to his apartment; the door was about to beforced in, when the King commanded that it should be opened. Messieurs deBougainville, d'Hervilly, de Parois, d'Aubier, Acloque, Gentil, and othercourageous men who were in the apartment of M. De Septeuil, the King'sfirst valet de chambre, instantly ran to his Majesty's apartment. M. DeBougainville, seeing the torrent furiously advancing, cried out, "Put theKing in the recess of the window, and place benches before him. " Sixroyalist grenadiers of the battalion of the Filles Saint Thomas made theirway by an inner staircase, and ranged themselves before the benches. Theorder given by M. De Bougainville saved the King from the blades of theassassins, among whom was a Pole named Lazousky, who was to strike thefirst blow. The King's brave defenders said, "Sire, fear nothing. " TheKing's reply is well known: "Put your hand upon my heart, and you willperceive whether I am afraid. " M. Vanot, commandant of battalion, wardedoff a blow aimed by a wretch against the King; a grenadier of the FillesSaint Thomas parried a sword-thrust made in the same direction. MadameElisabeth ran to her brother's apartments; when she reached the door sheheard loud threats of death against the Queen: they called for the head ofthe Austrian. "Ah! let them think I am the Queen, " she said to thosearound her, "that she may have time to escape. "

The Queen could not join the King; she was in the council chamber, whereshe had been placed behind the great table to protect her, as much aspossible, against the approach of the barbarians. Preserving a noble andbecoming demeanour in this dreadful situation, she held the Dauphin beforeher, seated upon the table. Madame was at her side; the Princesse deLamballe, the Princesse de Tarente, Madame de la Roche-Aymon, Madame deTourzel, and Madame de Mackau surrounded her. She had fixed a tricolouredcockade, which one of the National Guard had given her, upon her head. The poor little Dauphin was, like the King, shrouded in an enormous redcap. 

[One of the circumstances of the 20th of June which most vexed the King'sfriends being that of his wearing the bonnet rouge nearly three hours, Iventured to ask him for some explanation of a fact so strikingly incontrast with the extraordinary intrepidity shown by his Majesty duringthat horrible day. This was his answer: "The cries of 'The nation forever!' violently increasing around me, and seeming to be addressed to me, I replied that the nation had not a warmer friend than myself. Upon thisan ill-looking man, making his way through the crowd, came up to me andsaid, rather roughly, 'Well, if you speak the truth, prove it by puttingon this red cap. ' 'I consent, ' replied I. One or two of them immediatelycame forward and placed the cap upon my hair, for it was too small for myhead. I was convinced, I knew not why, that his intention was merely toplace the cap upon my head for a moment, and then to take it off again;and I was so completely taken up with what was passing before me that Idid not feel whether the cap did or did not remain upon my hair. I was solittle aware of it that when I returned to my room I knew only from beingtold so that it was still there. I was very much surprised to find itupon my head, and was the more vexed at it because I might have taken itoff immediately without the smallest difficulty. But I am satisfied thatif I had hesitated to consent to its being placed upon my head the drunkenfellow who offered it to me would have thrust his pike into mystomach. "--"Memoirs of Bertrand de Molleville. "]

The horde passed in files before the table;the sort of standards whichthey carried were symbols of the most atrocious barbarity. There wasone representing a gibbet, to which a dirty doll was suspended; thewords "Marie Antoinette a la lanterne" were written beneath it. Anotherwas a board, to which a bullock's heart was fastened, with "Heart ofLouis XVI. " written round it. And a third showed the horn of an ox, with an obscene inscription. 

One of the most furious Jacobin women who marched with these wretchesstopped to give vent to a thousand imprecations against the Queen. HerMajesty asked whether she had ever seen her. She replied that she hadnot. Whether she had done her any, personal wrong? Her answer was thesame; but she added:

"It is you who have caused the misery of the nation. "

"You have been told so, " answered the Queen; "you are deceived. As thewife of the King of France, and mother of the Dauphin, I am aFrench-woman; I shall never see my own country again, I can be happy orunhappy only in France; I was happy when you loved me. "

The fury began to weep, asked her pardon, and said, "It was because I didnot know you; I see that you are good. "

Santerre, the monarch of the faubourgs, made his subjects file off asquickly as he could; and it was thought at the time that he was ignorantof the object of this insurrection, which was the murder of the royalfamily. However, it was eight o'clock in the evening before the palacewas completely cleared. Twelve deputies, impelled by attachment to theKing's person, ranged themselves near him at the commencement of theinsurrection; but the deputation from the Assembly did not reach theTuileries until six in the evening; all the doors of the apartments werebroken. The Queen pointed out to the deputies the state of the King'spalace, and the disgraceful manner in which his asylum had been violatedunder the very eyes of the Assembly; she saw that Merlin de Thionville wasso much affected as to shed tears while she spoke. 

"You weep, M. Merlin, " said she to him, "at seeing the King and his familyso cruelly treated by a people whom he always wished to make happy. "

"True, Madame, " replied Merlin; "I weep for the misfortunes of a beautifuland feeling woman, the mother of a family; but do not mistake, not one ofmy tears falls for either King or Queen; I hate kings and queens, --it ismy religion. "

The Queen could not appreciate this madness, and saw all that was to beapprehended by persons who evinced it. 

All hope was gone, and nothing was thought of but succour from abroad. TheQueen appealed to her family and the King's brothers; her letters probablybecame more pressing, and expressed apprehensions upon the tardiness ofrelief. Her Majesty read me one to herself from the ArchduchessChristina, Gouvernante of the Low Countries: she reproached the Queen forsome of her expressions, and told her that those out of France were atleast as much alarmed as herself at the King's situation and her own; butthat the manner of attempting to assist her might either save her orendanger her safety; and that the members of the coalition were bound toact prudently, entrusted as they were with interests so dear to them. 

The 14th of July, 1792, fixed by the constitution as the anniversary ofthe independence of the nation drew near. The King and Queen werecompelled to make their appearance on the occasion; aware that the plot ofthe 20th of June had their assassination for its object, they had no doubtbut that their death was determined on for the day of this nationalfestival. The Queen was recommended, in order to give the King's friendstime to defend him if the attack should be made, to guard him against thefirst stroke of a dagger by making him wear a breastplate. I was directedto get one made in my apartments: it was composed of fifteen folds ofItalian taffety, and formed into an under-waistcoat and a wide belt. Thisbreastplate was tried; it resisted all thrusts of the dagger, and severalballs were turned aside by it. When it was completed the difficulty wasto let the King try it on without running the risk of being surprised. Iwore the immense heavy waistcoat as an under-petticoat for three dayswithout being able to find a favourable moment. At length the King foundan opportunity one morning to pull off his coat in the Queen's chamber andtry on the breastplate. 

The Queen was in bed; the King pulled me gently by the gown, and drew meas far as he could from the Queen's bed, and said to me, in a very lowtone of voice: "It is to satisfy her that I submit to this inconvenience:they will not assassinate me; their scheme is changed; they will put me todeath another way. " The Queen heard the King whispering to me, and whenhe was gone out she asked me what he had said. I hesitated to answer; sheinsisted that I should, saying that nothing must be concealed from her, and that she was resigned upon every point. 

When she was informed of the King's remark she told me she had guessed it, that he had long since observed to her that all which was going forward inFrance was an imitation of the revolution in England in the time ofCharles I. , and that he was incessantly reading the history of thatunfortunate monarch in order that he might act better than Charles haddone at a similar crisis. "I begin to be fearful of the King's beingbrought to trial, " continued the Queen; "as to me, I am a foreigner; theywill assassinate me. What will become of my poor children?"

These sad ejaculations were followed by a torrent of tears. I wished togive her an antispasmodic; she refused it, saying that only happy womencould feel nervous; that the cruel situation to which she was reducedrendered these remedies useless. In fact, the Queen, who during herhappier days was frequently attacked by hysterical disorders, enjoyed moreuniform health when all the faculties of her soul were called forth tosupport her physical strength. 

I had prepared a corset for her, for the same purpose as the King'sunder-waistcoat, without her knowledge; but she would not make use of it;all my entreaties, all my tears, were in vain. "If the factionsassassinate me, " she replied, "it will be a fortunate event for me; theywill deliver me from a most painful existence. " A few days after the Kinghad tried on his breastplate I met him on a back staircase. I drew backto let him pass. He stopped and took my hand; I wished to kiss his; hewould not suffer it, but drew me towards him by the hand, and kissed bothmy cheeks without saying a single word. 

The fear of another attack upon the Tuileries occasioned scrupulous searchamong the King's papers. 

I burnt almost all those belonging to the Queen. She put her familyletters, a great deal of correspondence which she thought it necessary topreserve for the history of the era of the Revolution, and particularlyBarnave's letters and her answers, of which she had copies, into aportfolio, which she entrusted to M. De J----. That gentleman was unableto save this deposit, and it was burnt. The Queen left a few papers inher secretaire. Among them were instructions to Madame de Tourzel, respecting the dispositions of her children and the characters andabilities of the sub-governesses under that lady's orders. This paper, which the Queen drew up at the time of Madame de Tourzel's appointment, with several letters from Maria Theresa, filled with the best advice andinstructions, was printed after the 10th of August by order of theAssembly in the collection of papers found in the secretaires of the Kingand Queen. 

Her Majesty had still, without reckoning the income of the month, onehundred and forty thousand francs in gold. She was desirous of depositingthe whole of it with me; but I advised her to retain fifteen hundredlouis, as a sum of rather considerable amount might be suddenly necessaryfor her. The King had an immense quantity of papers, and unfortunatelyconceived the idea of privately making, with the assistance of a locksmithwho had worked with him above ten years, a place of concealment in aninner corridor of his apartments. The place of concealment, but for theman's information, would have been long undiscovered? The wall in whichit was made was painted to imitate large stones, and the opening wasentirely concealed among the brown grooves which formed the shaded part ofthese painted stones. But even before this locksmith had denounced whatwas afterwards called the iron closet to the Assembly, the Queen was awarethat he had talked of it to some of his friends; and that this man, inwhom the King from long habit placed too much confidence, was a Jacobin. She warned the King of it, and prevailed on him to fill a very largeportfolio with all the papers he was most interested in preserving, andentrust it to me. She entreated him in my presence to leave nothing inthis closet; and the King, in order to quiet her, told her that he hadleft nothing there. I would have taken the portfolio and carried it to myapartment, but it was too heavy for me to lift. The King said he wouldcarry it himself; I went before to open the doors for him. When he placedthe portfolio in my inner closet he merely said, "The Queen will tell youwhat it contains. " Upon my return to the Queen I put the question to her, deeming, from what the King had said, that it was necessary I should know. "They are, " the Queen answered me, "such documents as would be mostdangerous to the King should they go so far as to proceed to a trialagainst him. But what he wishes me to tell you is, that the portfoliocontains a 'proces-verbal' of a cabinet council, in which the King gavehis opinion against the war. He had it signed by all the ministers, and, in case of a trial, he trusts that this document will be very useful tohim. " I asked the Queen to whom she thought I ought to commit theportfolio. "To whom you please, " answered she; "you alone are answerablefor it. Do not quit the palace even during your vacation months: theremay be circumstances under which it would be very desirable that we shouldbe able to have it instantly. "

At this period M. De La Fayette, who had probably given up the idea ofestablishing a republic in France similar to that of the United States, and was desirous to support the first constitution which he had sworn todefend, quitted his army and came to the Assembly for the purpose ofsupporting by his presence and by an energetic speech a petition signed bytwenty thousand citizens against the late violation of the residence ofthe King and his family. The General found the constitutional partypowerless, and saw that he himself had lost his popularity. The Assemblydisapproved of the step he had taken; the King, for whom it, was taken, showed no satisfaction at it, and he saw himself compelled to return tohis army as quickly as he could. He thought he could rely on the NationalGuard; but on the day of his arrival those officers who were in the King'sinterest inquired of his Majesty whether they were to forward the views ofGendral de La Fayette by joining him in such measures as he should pursueduring his stay at Paris. The King enjoined them not to do so. From thisanswer M. De La Fayette perceived that he was abandoned by the remainderof his party in the Paris guard. 

On his arrival a plan was presented to the Queen, in which it was proposedby a junction between La Fayette's army and the King's party to rescue theroyal family and convey them to Rouen. I did not learn the particulars ofthis plan; the Queen only said to me upon the subject that M. De LaFayette was offered to them as a resource; but that it would be better forthem to perish than to owe their safety to the man who had done them themost mischief, or to place themselves under the necessity of treating withhim. 

I passed the whole month of July without going to bed; I was fearful ofsome attack by night. There was one plot against the Queen's life whichhas never been made known. I was alone by her bedside at one o'clock inthe morning; we heard somebody walking softly down the corridor, whichpasses along the whole line of her apartments, and which was then lockedat each end. I went out to fetch the valet de chambre; he entered thecorridor, and the Queen and myself soon heard the noise of two menfighting. The unfortunate Princess held me locked in her arms, and saidto me, "What a situation! insults by day and assassins by night!" Thevalet de chambre cried out to her from the corridor, "Madame, it is awretch that I know; I have him!"--"Let him go, " said the Queen; "open thedoor to him; he came to murder me; the Jacobins would carry him about intriumph to-morrow. " The man was a servant of the King's toilet, who hadtaken the key of the corridor out of his Majesty's pocket after he was inbed, no doubt with the intention of committing the crime suspected. Thevalet de chambre, who was a very strong man, held him by the wrists, andthrust him out at the door. The wretch did not speak a word. The valetde chambre said, in answer to the Queen, who spoke to him gratefully ofthe danger to which he had exposed himself, that he feared nothing, andthat he had always a pair of excellent pistols about him for no otherpurpose than to defend her Majesty. The next day M. De Septeuil had allthe locks of the King's inner apartments changed. I did the same by thoseof the Queen. 

We were every moment told that the Faubourg St. Antoine was preparing tomarch against the palace. At four o'clock one morning towards the latterend of July a person came to give me information to that effect. Iinstantly sent off two men, on whom I could rely, with orders to proceedto the usual places for assembling, and to come back speedily and give mean account of the state of the city. We knew that at least an hour mustelapse before the populace or the faubourgs assembled on the site of theBastille could reach the Tuileries. It seemed to me sufficient for theQueen's safety that all about her should be awakened. I went softly intoher room; she was asleep; I did not awaken her. I found General deW----in the great closet; he told me the meeting was, for this once, dispersing. The General had endeavoured to please the populace by thesame means as M. De La Fayette had employed. He saluted the lowestpoissarde, and lowered his hat down to his very stirrup. But the populace, who had been flattered for three years, required far different homage toits power, and the poor man was unnoticed. The King had been awakened, and so had Madame Elisabeth, who had gone to him. The Queen, yielding tothe weight of her griefs, slept till nine o'clock on that day, which wasvery unusual with her. The King had already been to know whether she wasawake; I told him what I had done, and the care I had taken not to disturbher. He thanked me, and said, "I was awake, and so was the whole palace;she ran no risk. I am very glad to see her take a little rest. Alas! hergriefs double mine!" What was my chagrin when, upon awaking and learningwhat had passed, the Queen burst into tears from regret at not having beencalled, and began to upbraid me, on whose friendship she ought to havebeen able to rely, for having served her so ill under such circumstances!In vain did I reiterate that it had been only a false alarm, and that sherequired to have her strength recruited. "It is not diminished, " said she;"misfortune gives us additional strength. Elisabeth was with the King, and I was asleep, --I who am determined to perish by his side! I am hiswife; I will not suffer him to incur the smallest risk without my sharingit. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

During July the correspondence of M. Bertrand de Molleville with the Kingand Queen was most active. M. De Marsilly, formerly a lieutenant of theCent-Suisses of the Guard, was the bearer of the letters. 

[I received by night only the King's answer, written with his own hand, inthe margin of my letter. I always sent him back with the day's letterthat to which he had replied the day before, so that my letters and hisanswers, of which I contented myself with taking notes only, neverremained with me twenty-four hours. I proposed this arrangement to hisMajesty to remove all uneasiness from his mind; my letters were generallydelivered to the King or the Queen by M. De Marsilly, captain of theKing's Guard, whose attachment and fidelity were known to their Majesties. I also sometimes employed M. Bernard de Marigny, who had left Brest forthe purpose of sharing with his Majesty's faithful servants the dangerswhich threatened the King. --"Memoirs of Bertrand de Molleville, " vol. Ii. , p. 12. ]

He came to me the first time with a note from the Queen directed to M. Bertrand himself. In this note the Queen said: "Address yourself withfull confidence to Madame Campan; the conduct of her brother in Russia hasnot at all influenced her sentiments; she is wholly devoted to us; and if, hereafter, you should have anything to say to us verbally, you may relyentirely upon her devotion and discretion. "

The mobs which gathered almost nightly in the faubourgs alarmed theQueen's friends; they entreated her not to sleep in her room on the groundfloor of the Tuileries. She removed to the first floor, to a room whichwas between the King's apartments and those of the Dauphin. Being awakealways from daybreak, she ordered that neither the shutters nor thewindow-blinds should be closed, that her long sleepless nights might bethe less weary. About the middle of one of these nights, when the moonwas shining into her bedchamber, she gazed at it, and told me that in amonth she should not see that moon unless freed from her chains, andbeholding the King at liberty. She then imparted to me all that wasconcurring to deliver them; but said that the opinions of their intimateadvisers were alarmingly at variance; that some vouched for completesuccess, while others pointed out insurmountable dangers. She added thatshe possessed the itinerary of the march of the Princes and the King ofPrussia: that on such a day they would be at Verdun, on another day atsuch a place, that Lille was about to be besieged, but that M. De J-----, whose prudence and intelligence the King, as well as herself, highlyvalued, alarmed them much respecting the success of that siege, and madethem apprehensive that, even were the commandant devoted to them, thecivil authority, which by the constitution gave great power to the mayorsof towns, would overrule the military commandant. She was also veryuneasy as to what would take place at Paris during the interval, and spoketo me of the King's want of energy, but always in terms expressive of herveneration for his virtues and her attachment to himself. --"The King, "said she, "is not a coward; he possesses abundance of passive courage, buthe is overwhelmed by an awkward shyness, a mistrust of himself, whichproceeds from his education as much as from his disposition. He is afraidto command, and, above all things, dreads speaking to assembled numbers. He lived like a child, and always ill at ease under the eyes of Louis XV. , until the age of twenty-one. This constraint confirmed his timidity. 

"Circumstanced as we are, a few well-delivered words addressed to theParisians, who are devoted to him, would multiply the strength of ourparty a hundredfold: he will not utter them. What can we expect fromthose addresses to the people which he has been advised to post up?Nothing but fresh outrages. As for myself, I could do anything, and wouldappear on horseback if necessary. But if I were really to begin to act, that would be furnishing arms to the King's enemies; the cry against theAustrian, and against the sway of a woman, would become general in France;and, moreover, by showing myself, I should render the King a mere nothing. A queen who is not regent ought, under these circumstances, to remainpassive and prepare to die. "

The garden of the Tuileries was full of maddened men, who insulted all whoseemed to side with the Court. "The Life of Marie Antoinette" was criedunder the Queen's windows, infamous plates were annexed to the book, thehawkers showed them to the passersby. On all sides were heard thejubilant outcries of a people in a state of delirium almost as frightfulas the explosion of their rage. The Queen and her children were unable tobreathe the open air any longer. It was determined that the garden of theTuileries should be closed: as soon as this step was taken the Assemblydecreed that the whole length of the Terrace des Feuillans belonged to it, and fixed the boundary between what was called the national ground and theCoblentz ground by a tricoloured ribbon stretched from one end of theterrace to the other. All good citizens were ordered, by notices affixedto it, not to go down into the garden, under pain of being treated in thesame manner as Foulon and Berthier. A young man who did not observe thiswritten order went down into the garden; furious outcries, threats of lalanterne, and the crowd of people which collected upon the terrace warnedhim of his imprudence, and the danger which he ran. He immediately pulledoff his shoes, took out his handkerchief, and wiped the dust from theirsoles. The people cried out, "Bravo! the good citizen for ever!" He wascarried off in triumph. The shutting up of the Tuileries did not enablethe Queen and her children to walk in the garden. The people on theterrace sent forth dreadful shouts, and she was twice compelled to returnto her apartments. 

In the early part of August many zealous persons offered the King money;he refused considerable sums, being unwilling to injure the fortunes ofindividuals. M. De la Ferte, intendant of the 'menus plaisirs', broughtme a thousand louis, requesting me to lay them at the feet of the Queen. He thought she could not have too much money at so perilous a time, andthat every good Frenchman should hasten to place all his ready money inher hands. She refused this sum, and others of much greater amount whichwere offered to her. 

[M. Auguie, my brother-in-law, receiver-general of the finances, offeredher, through his wife, a portfolio containing one hundred thousand crownsin paper money. On this occasion the Queen said the most affecting thingsto my sister, expressive of her happiness at having contributed to thefortunes of such faithful subjects as herself and her husband, butdeclined her offer. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

However, a few days afterwards, she told me she would accept M. De laFerte's twenty-four thousand francs, because they would make up a sumwhich the King had to expend. She therefore directed, me to go andreceive those twenty-four thousand francs, to add them to the one hundredthousand francs she had placed in my hands, and to change the whole intoassignats to increase their amount. Her orders were executed, and theassignats were delivered to the King. The Queen informed me that MadameElisabeth had found a well-meaning man who had engaged to gain over Petionby the bribe of a large sum of money, and that deputy would, by apreconcerted signal, inform the King of the success of the project. HisMajesty soon had an opportunity of seeing Petion, and on the Queen askinghim before me if he was satisfied with him, the King replied, "Neithermore nor less satisfied than usual; he did not make the concerted signal, and I believe I have been cheated. " The Queen then condescended toexplain the whole of the enigma to me. "Petion, " said she, "was, whiletalking to the King, to have kept his finger fixed upon his right eye forat least two seconds. "--"He did not even put his hand up to his chin, "said the King; "after all, it is but so much money stolen: the thief willnot boast of it, and the affair will remain a secret. Let us talk ofsomething else. " He turned to me and said, "Your father was an intimatefriend of Mandat, who now commands the National Guard; describe him to me;what ought I to expect from him?" I answered that he was one of hisMajesty's most faithful subjects, but that with a great deal of loyalty hepossessed very little sense, and that he was involved in theconstitutional vortex. "I understand, " said the King; "he is a man whowould defend my palace and my person, because that is enjoined by theconstitution which he has sworn to support, but who would fight againstthe party in favour of sovereign authority; it is well to know this withcertainty. "

On the next day the Princesse de Lamballe sent for me very early in themorning. I found her on a sofa facing a window that looked upon the PontRoyal. She then occupied that apartment of the Pavilion of Flora whichwas on a level with that of the Queen. She desired me to sit down by her. Her Highness had a writing-desk upon her knees. "You have had manyenemies, " said she; "attempts have been made to deprive you of the Queen'sfavour; they have been far from successful. Do you know that even Imyself, not being so well acquainted with you as the Queen, was renderedsuspicious of you; and that upon the arrival of the Court at the TuileriesI gave you a companion to be a spy upon you; and that I had anotherbelonging to the police placed at your door! I was assured that youreceived five or six of the most virulent deputies of the Tiers Etat; butit was that wardrobe woman whose rooms were above you. 

"In short, " said the Princess, "persons of integrity have nothing to fearfrom the evil-disposed when they belong to so upright a prince as theKing. As to the Queen, she knows you, and has loved you ever since shecame into France. You shall judge of the King's opinion of you: it wasyesterday evening decided in the family circle that, at a time when theTuileries is likely to be attacked, it was necessary to have the mostfaithful account of the opinions and conduct of all the individualscomposing the Queen's service. The King takes the same precaution on hispart respecting all who are about him. He said there was with him aperson of great integrity, to whom he would commit this inquiry; and that, with regard to the Queen's household, you must be spoken to, that he hadlong studied your character, and that he esteemed your veracity. "

The Princess had a list of the names of all who belonged to the Queen'schamber on her desk. She asked me for information respecting eachindividual. I was fortunate in having none but the most favourableinformation to give. I had to speak of my avowed enemy in the Queen'schamber; of her who most wished that I should be responsible for mybrother's political opinions. The Princess, as the head of the chamber, could not be ignorant of this circumstance; but as the person in question, who idolised the King and Queen, would not have hesitated to sacrifice herlife in order to save theirs, and as possibly her attachment to them, united to considerable narrowness of intellect and a limited education, contributed to her jealousy of me, I spoke of her in the highest terms. 

The Princess wrote as I dictated, and occasionally looked at me withastonishment. When I had done I entreated her to write in the margin thatthe lady alluded to was my declared enemy. She embraced me, saying, "Ah!do not write it! we should not record an unhappy circumstance which oughtto be forgotten. " We came to a man of genius who was much attached to theQueen, and I described him as a man born solely to contradict, showinghimself an aristocrat with democrats, and a democrat among aristocrats;but still a man of probity, and well disposed to his sovereign. ThePrincess said she knew many persons of that disposition, and that she wasdelighted I had nothing to say against this man, because she herself hadplaced him about the Queen. 

The whole of her Majesty's chamber, which consisted entirely of persons offidelity, gave throughout all the dreadful convulsions of the Revolutionproofs of the greatest prudence and self-devotion. The same cannot besaid of the antechambers. With the exception of three or four, all theservants of that class were outrageous Jacobins; and I saw on thoseoccasions the necessity of composing the private household of princes ofpersons completely separated from the class of the people. 

The situation of the royal family was so unbearable during the monthswhich immediately preceded the 10th of August that the Queen longed forthe crisis, whatever might be its issue. She frequently said that a longconfinement in a tower by the seaside would seem to her less intolerablethan those feuds in which the weakness of her party daily threatened aninevitable catastrophe. 

[A few days before the 10th of August the squabbles between the royalistsand the Jacobins, and between the Jacobins and the constitutionalists, increased in warmth; among the latter those men who defended theprinciples they professed with the greatest talent, courage, and constancywere at the same time the most exposed to danger. Montjoie says: "Thequestion of dethronement was discussed with a degree of frenzy in theAssembly. Such of the deputies as voted against it were abused, illtreated, and surrounded by assassins. They had a battle to fight at everystep they took; and at length they did not dare to sleep in their ownhouses. Of this number were Regnault de Beaucaron, Froudiere, Girardin, and Vaublanc. Girardin complained of having been struck in one of thelobbies of the Assembly. A voice cried out to him, 'Say where were youstruck. ' 'Where?' replied Girardin, 'what a question! Behind. Doassassins ever strike otherwise?"]

Not only were their Majesties prevented from breathing the open air, butthey were also insulted at the very foot of the altar. The Sunday beforethe last day of the monarchy, while the royal family went through thegallery to the chapel, half the soldiers of the National Guard exclaimed, "Long live the King!" and the other half, "No; no King! Down with theveto!" and on that day at vespers the choristers preconcerted to use loudand threatening emphasis when chanting the words, "Deposuit potentes desede, " in the "Magnificat. " Incensed at such an irreverent proceeding, the royalists in their turn thrice exclaimed, "Et reginam, " after the"Domine salvum fac regem. " The tumult during the whole time of divineservice was excessive. 

At length the terrible night of the 10th of August, 1792, arrived. On thepreceding evening Potion went to the Assembly and informed it thatpreparations were making for an insurrection on the following day; thatthe tocsin would sound at midnight; and that he feared he had notsufficient means for resisting the attack which was about to take place. Upon this information the Assembly passed to the order of the day. Petion, however, gave an order for repelling force by force. 

[Petion was the Mayor of Paris, and Mandat on this day was commandant ofthe National Guard. Mandat was assassinated that night. --"Thiers, " vol. I. , p. 260. ]

M. Mandat was armed with this order; and, finding his fidelity to theKing's person supported by what he considered the law of the State, heconducted himself in all his operations with the greatest energy. On theevening of the 9th I was present at the King's supper. While his Majestywas giving me various orders we heard a great noise at the door of theapartment. I went to see what was the cause of it, and found the twosentinels fighting. One said, speaking of the King, that he was hearty inthe cause of the constitution, and would defend it at the peril of hislife; the other maintained that he was an encumbrance to the onlyconstitution suitable to a free people. They were almost ready to cut oneanother's throats. I returned with a countenance which betrayed myemotion. The King desired to know what was going forward at his door; Icould not conceal it from him. The Queen said she was not at allsurprised at it, and that more than half the guard belonged to the Jacobinparty. 

The tocsin sounded at midnight. The Swiss were drawn up like walls; andin the midst of their soldierlike silence, which formed a strikingcontrast with the perpetual din of the town guard, the King informed M. DeJ-----, an officer of the staff, of the plan of defence laid down byGeneral Viomenil. M. De J----- said to me, after this private conference, "Put your jewels and money into your pockets; our dangers are unavoidable;the means of defence are nil; safety might be obtained by some degree ofenergy in the King, but that is the only virtue in which he is deficient. "

An hour after midnight the Queen and Madame Elisabeth said they would liedown on a sofa in a room in the entresols, the windows of which commandedthe courtyard of the Tuileries. 

The Queen told me the King had just refused to put on his quiltedunder-waistcoat; that he had consented to wear it on the 14th of Julybecause he was merely going to a ceremony where the blade of an assassinwas to be apprehended, but that on a day on which his party might fightagainst the revolutionists he thought there was something cowardly inpreserving his life by such means. 

During this time Madame Elisabeth disengaged herself from some of herclothing which encumbered her in order to lie down on the sofa: she took acornelian pin out of her cape, and before she laid it down on the tableshe showed it to me, and desired me to read a motto engraved upon it rounda stalk of lilies. The words were, "Oblivion of injuries; pardon foroffences. "--"I much fear, " added that virtuous Princess, "this maxim hasbut little influence among our enemies; but it ought not to be less dearto us on that account. "

[The exalted piety of Madame Elisabeth gave to all she said and did anoble character, descriptive of that of her soul. On the day on whichthis worthy descendant of Saint Louis was sacrificed, the executioner, intying her hands behind her, raised up one of the ends of her handkerchief. Madame Elisabeth, with calmness, and in a voice which seemed not to belongto earth, said to him, "In the name of modesty, cover my bosom. " Ilearned this from Madame de Serilly, who was condemned the same day as thePrincess, but who obtained a respite at the moment of the execution, Madame de Montmorin, her relation, declaring that her cousin wasenceinte. -MADAME CAMPAN. ]

The Queen desired me to sit down by her; the two Princesses could notsleep; they were conversing mournfully upon their situation when a musketwas discharged in the courtyard. They both quitted the sofa, saying, "There is the first shot, unfortunately it will not be the last; let us goup to the King. " The Queen desired me to follow her; several of her womenwent with me. 

At four o'clock the Queen came out of the King's chamber and told us shehad no longer any hope; that M. Mandat, who had gone to the Hotel de Villeto receive further orders, had just been assassinated, and that the peoplewere at that time carrying his head about the streets. Day came. TheKing, the Queen, Madame Elisabeth, Madame, and the Dauphin went down topass through the ranks of the sections of the National Guard; the cry of"Vive le Roi!" was heard from a few places. I was at a window on thegarden side; I saw some of the gunners quit their posts, go up to theKing, and thrust their fists in his face, insulting him by the most brutallanguage. Messieurs de Salvert and de Bridges drove them off in aspirited manner. The King was as pale as a corpse. The royal family camein again. The Queen told me that all was lost; that the King had shown noenergy; and that this sort of review had done more harm than good. 

I was in the billiard-room with my companions; we placed ourselves uponsome high benches. I then saw M. D'Hervilly with a drawn sword in hishand, ordering the usher to open the door to the French noblesse. Twohundred persons entered the room nearest to that in which the family were;others drew up in two lines in the preceding rooms. I saw a few peoplebelonging to the Court, many others whose features were unknown to me, anda few who figured technically without right among what was called thenoblesse, but whose self-devotion ennobled them at once. They were all sobadly armed that even in that situation the indomitable French livelinessindulged in jests. M. De Saint-Souplet, one of the King's equerries, anda page, carried on their shoulders instead of muskets the tongs belongingto the King's antechamber, which they had broken and divided between them. Another page, who had a pocket-pistol in his hand, stuck the end of itagainst the back of the person who stood before him, and who begged hewould be good enough to rest it elsewhere. A sword and a pair of pistolswere the only arms of those who had had the precaution to providethemselves with arms at all. Meanwhile, the numerous bands from thefaubourgs, armed with pikes and cutlasses, filled the Carrousel and thestreets adjacent to the Tuileries. The sanguinary Marseillais were attheir head, with cannon pointed against the Chateau. In this emergencythe King's Council sent M. Dejoly, the Minister of Justice, to theAssembly to request they would send the King a deputation which mightserve as a safeguard to the executive power. His ruin was resolved on;they passed to the order of the day. At eight o'clock the departmentrepaired to the Chateau. The procureur-syndic, seeing that the guardwithin was ready to join the assailants, went into the King's closet andrequested to speak to him in private. The King received him in hischamber; the Queen was with him. There M. Roederer told him that theKing, all his family, and the people about them would inevitably perishunless his Majesty immediately determined to go to the National Assembly. The Queen at first opposed this advice, but the procureur-syndic told herthat she rendered herself responsible for the deaths of the King, herchildren, and all who were in the palace. She no longer objected. TheKing then consented to go to the Assembly. As he set out, he said to theminister and persons who surrounded him, "Come, gentlemen, there isnothing more to be done here. "

["The King hesitated, the Queen manifested the highest dissatisfaction. 'What!' said she, ' are we alone; is there nobody who can act?'--'Yes, Madame, alone; action is useless--resistance is impossible. ' One of themembers of the department, M. Gerdrot, insisted on the prompt execution ofthe proposed measure. 'Silence, monsieur, ' said the Queen to him;'silence; you are the only person who ought to be silent here; when themischief is done, those who did it should not pretend to wish to remedyit. ' . . . 

"The King remained mute; nobody spoke. It was reserved for me to give thelast piece of advice. I had the firmness to say, 'Let us go, and notdeliberate; honour commands it, the good of the State requires it. Let usgo to the National Assembly; this step ought to have been taken long ago:'Let us go, ' said the King, raising his right hand; 'let us start; let usgive this last mark of self-devotion, since it is necessary. ' The Queenwas persuaded. Her first anxiety was for the King, the second for herson; the King had none. 'M. Roederer--gentlemen, ' said the Queen, 'youanswer for the person of the King; you answer for that of myson. '--'Madame, ' replied M. Roederer, 'we pledge ourselves to die at yourside; that is all we can engage for. '"--MONTJOIE, "History of MarieAntoinette. "]

The Queen said to me as she left the King's chamber, "Wait in myapartments; I will come to you, or I will send for you to go I know notwhither. " She took with her only the Princesse de Lamballe and Madame deTourzel. The Princesse de Tarente and Madame de la Roche-Aymon wereinconsolable at being left at the Tuileries; they, and all who belonged tothe chamber, went down into the Queen's apartments. 

We saw the royal family pass between two lines formed by the Swissgrenadiers and those of the battalions of the Petits-Peres and the FillesSaint Thomas. They were so pressed upon by the crowd that during thatshort passage the Queen was robbed of her watch and purse. A man of greatheight and horrible appearance, one of such as were to be seen at the headof all the insurrections, drew near the Dauphin, whom the Queen wasleading by the hand, and took him up in his arms. The Queen uttered ascream of terror, and was ready to faint. The man said to her, "Don't befrightened, I will do him no harm;" and he gave him back to her at theentrance of the chamber. 

I leave to history all the details of that too memorable day, confiningmyself to recalling a few of the frightful scenes acted in the interior ofthe Tuileries after the King had quitted the palace. 

The assailants did not know that the King and his family had betakenthemselves to the Assembly; and those who defended the palace from theaide of the courts were equally ignorant of it. It is supposed that ifthey had been aware of the fact the siege would never have taken place. 

[In reading of the events of the 10th of August, 1792, the reader mustremember that there was hardly any armed force to resist the mob. Theregiments that had shown signs of being loyal to the King had been removedfrom Paris by the Assembly. The Swiss had been deprived of their ownartillery, and the Court had sent one of their battalions into Normandy ata time when there was an idea of taking refuge there. The National Guardwere either disloyal or disheartened, and the gunners, especially of thatforce at the Tuileries, sympathised with the mob. Thus the King had about800 or 900 Swiss and little more than one battalion of the National Guard. Mandat, one of the six heads of the legions of the National Guard, towhose turn the command fell on that day, was true to his duty, but wassent for to the Hotel de Ville and assassinated. Still the small force, even after the departure of the King, would have probably beaten off themob had not the King given the fatal order to the Swiss to cease firing. (See Thiers's "Revolution Francaise, " vol. I. , chap. Xi. ) Bonaparte'sopinion of the mob may be judged by his remarks on the 20th June, 1792, when, disgusted at seeing the King appear with the red cap on his head, heexclaimed, "Che coglione! Why have they let in all that rabble? Whydon't they sweep off 400 or 500 of them with the cannon? The rest wouldthen set off. " ("Bourrienne, " vol. I. , p. 13, Bentley, London, 1836. )Bonaparte carried out his own plan against a far stronger force ofassailants on the Jour des Sections, 4th October, 1795. ]

The Marseillais began by driving from their posts several Swiss, whoyielded without resistance; a few of the assailants fired upon them; someof the Swiss officers, seeing their men fall, and perhaps thinking theKing was still at the Tuileries, gave the word to a whole battalion tofire. The aggressors were thrown into disorder, and the Carrousel wascleared in a moment; but they soon returned, spurred on by rage andrevenge. The Swiss were but eight hundred strong; they fell back into theinterior of the Chateau; some of the doors were battered in by the guns, others broken through with hatchets; the populace rushed from all quartersinto the interior of the palace; almost all the Swiss were massacred; thenobles, flying through the gallery which leads to the Louvre, were eitherstabbed or shot, and the bodies thrown out of the windows. 

M. Pallas and M. De Marchais, ushers of the King's chamber, were killed indefending the door of the council chamber; many others of the King'sservants fell victims to their fidelity. I mention these two persons inparticular because, with their hats pulled over their brows and theirswords in their hands, they exclaimed, as they defended themselves withunavailing courage, "We will not survive!--this is our post; our duty isto die at it. " M. Diet behaved in the same manner at the door of theQueen's bedchamber; he experienced the same fate. The Princesse deTarente had fortunately opened the door of the apartments; otherwise, thedreadful band seeing several women collected in the Queen's salon wouldhave fancied she was among us, and would have immediately massacred us hadwe resisted them. We were, indeed, all about to perish, when a man with along beard came up, exclaiming, in the name of Potion, "Spare the women;don't dishonour the nation!" A particular circumstance placed me ingreater danger than the others. In my confusion I imagined, a momentbefore the assailants entered the Queen's apartments, that my sister wasnot among the group of women collected there; and I went up into an'entresol', where I supposed she had taken refuge, to induce her to comedown, fancying it safer that we should not be separated. I did not findher in the room in question; I saw there only our two femmes de chambreand one of the Queen's two heyducs, a man of great height and militaryaspect. I saw that he was pale, and sitting on a bed. I cried out tohim, "Fly! the footmen and our people are already safe. "--"I cannot, " saidthe man to me; "I am dying of fear. " As he spoke I heard a number of menrushing hastily up the staircase; they threw themselves upon him, and Isaw him assassinated. 

I ran towards the staircase, followed by our women. The murderers leftthe heyduc to come to me. The women threw themselves at their feet, andheld their sabres. The narrowness of the staircase impeded the assassins;but I had already felt a horrid hand thrust into my back to seize me by myclothes, when some one called out from the bottom of the staircase, "Whatare you doing above there? We don't kill women. " I was on my knees; myexecutioner quitted his hold of me, and said, "Get up, you jade; thenation pardons you. "

The brutality of these words did not prevent my suddenly experiencing anindescribable feeling which partook almost equally of the love of life andthe idea that I was going to see my son, and all that was dear to me, again. A moment before I had thought less of death than of the pain whichthe steel, suspended over my head, would occasion me. Death is seldomseen so close without striking his blow. I heard every syllable utteredby the assassins, just as if I had been calm. 

Five or six men seized me and my companions, and, having made us get up onbenches placed before the windows, ordered us to call out, "The nation forever!"

I passed over several corpses; I recognised that of the old Vicomte deBroves, to whom the Queen had sent me at the beginning of the night todesire him and another old man in her name to go home. These brave mendesired I would tell her Majesty that they had but too strictly obeyed theKing's orders in all circumstances under which they ought to have exposedtheir own lives in order to preserve his; and that for this once theywould not obey, though they would cherish the recollection of the Queen'sgoodness. 

Near the grille, on the side next the bridge, the men who conducted measked whither I wished to go. Upon my inquiring, in my turn, whether theywere at liberty to take me wherever I might wish to go, one of them, aMarseillais, asked me, giving me at the same time a push with the butt endof his musket, whether I still doubted the power of the people? Ianswered "No, " and I mentioned the number of my brother-in-law's house. Isaw my sister ascending the steps of the parapet of the bridge, surroundedby members of the National Guard. I called to her, and she turned round. "Would you have her go with you?" said my guardian to me. I told him I didwish it. They called the people who were leading my sister to prison; shejoined me. 

Madame de la Roche-Aymon and her daughter, Mademoiselle Pauline deTourzel, Madame de Ginestoux, lady to the Princesse de Lamballe, the otherwomen of the Queen, and the old Comte d'Affry, were led off together tothe Abbaye. 

Our progress from the Tuileries to my sister's house was most distressing. We saw several Swiss pursued and killed, and musket-shots were crossingeach other in all directions. We passed under the walls of the Louvre;they were firing from the parapet into the windows of the gallery, to hitthe knights of the dagger; for thus did the populace designate thosefaithful subjects who had assembled at the Tuileries to defend the King. 

The brigands broke some vessels of water in the Queen's first antechamber;the mixture of blood and water stained the skirts of our white gowns. Thepoissardes screamed after us in the streets that we were attached to theAustrian. Our protectors then showed some consideration for us, and madeus go up a gateway to pull off our gowns; but our petticoats being tooshort, and making us look like persons in disguise, other poissardes beganto bawl out that we were young Swiss dressed up like women. We then saw atribe of female cannibals enter the street, carrying the head of poorMandat. Our guards made us hastily enter a little public-house, calledfor wine, and desired us to drink with them. They assured the landladythat we were their sisters, and good patriots. Happily the Marseillaishad quitted us to return to the Tuileries. One of the men who remainedwith us said to me in a low voice: "I am a gauze-worker in the faubourg. I was forced to march; I am not for all this; I have not killed anybody, and have rescued you. You ran a great risk when we met the mad women whoare carrying Mandat's head. These horrible women said yesterday atmidnight, upon the site of the Bastille, that they must have their revengefor the 6th of October, at Versailles, and that they had sworn to kill theQueen and all the women attached to her; the danger of the action savedyou all. "

As I crossed the Carrousel, I saw my house in flames; but as soon as thefirst moment of affright was over, I thought no more of my personalmisfortunes. My ideas turned solely upon the dreadful situation of theQueen. 

On reaching my sister's we found all our family in despair, believing theyshould never see us again. I could not remain in her house; some of themob, collected round the door, exclaimed that Marie Antoinette'sconfidante was in the house, and that they must have her head. Idisguised myself, and was concealed in the house of M. Morel, secretaryfor the lotteries. On the morrow I was inquired for there, in the name ofthe Queen. A deputy, whose sentiments were known to her, took uponhimself to find me out. 

I borrowed clothes, and went with my sister to the Feuillans--[A formermonastery near the Tuileries, so called from the Bernardines, one of theCistercian orders; later a revolutionary club. ]--We got there at the sametime with M. Thierry de Ville d'Avray, the King's first valet de chambre. We were taken into an office, where we wrote down our names and places ofabode, and we received tickets for admission into the rooms belonging toCamus, the keeper of the Archives, where the King was with his family. 

As we entered the first room, a person who was there said to me, "Ah!you are a brave woman; but where is that Thierry, that man loaded withhis master's bounties?"

[M. Thierry, who never ceased to give his sovereign proofs of unalterableattachment, was one of the victims of the 2d of September. --MADAMECAMPAN. ]

"He is here, " said I; "he is following me. I perceive that even scenesof death do not banish jealousy from among you. "

Having belonged to the Court from my earliest youth, I was known to manypersons whom I did not know. As I traversed a corridor above thecloisters which led to the cells inhabited by the unfortunate Louis XVI. And his family, several of the grenadiers called me by name. One of themsaid to me, "Well, the poor King is lost! The Comte d'Artois would havemanaged it better. "--"Not at all, " said another. 

The royal family occupied a small suite of apartments consisting of fourcells, formerly belonging to the ancient monastery of the Feuillans. Inthe first were the men who had accompanied the King: the Prince de Poix, the Baron d'Aubier, M. De Saint-Pardou, equerry to Madame Elisabeth, MM. De Goguelat, de Chamilly, and de Hue. In the second we found the King; hewas having his hair dressed; he took two locks of it, and gave one to mysister and one to me. We offered to kiss his hand; he opposed it, andembraced us without saying anything. In the third was the Queen, in bed, and in indescribable affliction. We found her accompanied only by a stoutwoman, who appeared tolerably civil; she was the keeper of the apartments. She waited upon the Queen, who as yet had none of her own people abouther. Her Majesty stretched out her arms to us, saying, "Come, unfortunatewomen; come, and see one still more unhappy than yourselves, since she hasbeen the cause of all your misfortunes. We are ruined, " continued she;"we have arrived at that point to which they have been leading us forthree years, through all possible outrages; we shall fall in this dreadfulrevolution, and many others will perish after us. All have contributed toour downfall; the reformers have urged it like mad people, and othersthrough ambition, for the wildest Jacobin seeks wealth and office, and themob is eager for plunder. There is not one real patriot among all thisinfamous horde. The emigrant party have their intrigues and schemes;foreigners seek to profit by the dissensions of France; every one has ashare in our misfortunes. "

The Dauphin came in with Madame and the Marquise de Tourzel. On seeingthem the Queen said to me, "Poor children! how heartrending it is, instead of handing down to them so fine an inheritance, to say it endswith us!" She afterwards conversed with me about the Tuileries and thepersons who had fallen; she condescended also to mention the burning of myhouse. I looked upon that loss as a mischance which ought not to dwellupon her mind, and I told her so. She spoke of the Princesse de Tarente, whom she greatly loved and valued, of Madame de la Roche-Aymon and herdaughter, of the other persons whom she had left at the palace, and of theDuchesse de Luynes, who was to have passed the night at the Tuileries. Respecting her she said, "Hers was one of the first heads turned by therage for that mischievous philosophy; but her heart brought her back, andI again found a friend in her. "

[During the Reign of Terror I withdrew to the Chateau de Coubertin, nearthat of Dampierre. The Duchesse de Luynes frequently came to ask me totell her what the Queen had said about her at the Feuillans. She wouldsay as she went away, "I have often need to request you to repeat thosewords of the Queen. "--MADAME CAMPAN. ]

I asked the Queen what the ambassadors from foreign powers had done underexisting circumstances. She told me that they could do nothing; and thatthe wife of the English ambassador had just given her a proof of thepersonal interest she took in her welfare by sending her linen for herson. 

I informed her that, in the pillaging of my house, all my accounts withher had been thrown into the Carrousel, and that every sheet of my month'sexpenditure was signed by her, sometimes leaving four or five inches ofblank paper above her signature, a circumstance which rendered me veryuneasy, from an apprehension that an improper use might be made of thosesignatures. She desired me to demand admission to the committee ofgeneral safety, and to make this declaration there. I repaired thitherinstantly and found a deputy, with whose name I have never becomeacquainted. After hearing me he said that he would not receive mydeposition; that Marie Antoinette was now nothing more than any otherFrenchwoman; and that if any of those detached papers bearing hersignature should be misapplied, she would have, at a future period, aright to lodge a complaint, and to support her declaration by the factswhich I had just related. The Queen then regretted having sent me, andfeared that she had, by her very caution, pointed out a method offabricating forgeries which might be dangerous to her; then again sheexclaimed, "My apprehensions are as absurd as the step I made you take. They need nothing more for our ruin; all has been told. "

She gave us details of what had taken place subsequently to the King'sarrival at the Assembly. They are all well known, and I have no occasionto record them; I will merely mention that she told us, though with muchdelicacy, that she was not a little hurt at the King's conduct since hehad quitted the Tuileries; that his habit of laying no restraint upon hisgreat appetite had prompted him to eat as if he had been at his palace;that those who did not know him as she did, did not feel the piety and themagnanimity of his resignation, all which produced so bad an effect thatdeputies who were devoted to him had warned him of it; but no change couldbe effected. 

I still see in imagination, and shall always see, that narrow cell at theFeuillans, hung with green paper, that wretched couch whence thedethroned, Queen stretched out her arms to us, saying that ourmisfortunes, of which she was the cause, increased her own. There, forthe last time, I saw the tears, I heard the sobs of her whom high birth, natural endowments, and, above all, goodness of heart, had seemed todestine to adorn any throne, and be the happiness of any people! It isimpossible for those who lived with Louis XVI. And Marie Antoinette not tobe fully convinced, while doing full justice to the King's virtues, thatif the Queen had been from the moment of her arrival in France the objectof the care and affection of a prince of decision and authority, she wouldhave only added to the glory of his reign. 

What affecting things I have heard the Queen say in the affliction causedher by the belief of part of the Court and the whole of the people thatshe did not love France! How did that opinion shock those who knew herheart and her sentiments! Twice did I see her on the point of going fromher apartments in the Tuileries into the gardens, to address the immensethrong constantly assembled there to insult her. "Yes, " exclaimed she, asshe paced her chamber with hurried steps, "I will say to them Frenchmen, they have had the cruelty to persuade you that I do not love France!--I!the mother of a Dauphin who will reign over this noble country!--I! whomProvidence has seated upon the most powerful throne of Europe! Of all thedaughters of Maria Theresa am I not that one whom fortune has most highlyfavoured? And ought I not to feel all these advantages? What should Ifind at Vienna? Nothing but sepulchres! What should I lose in France?Everything which can confer glory!"

I protest I only repeat her own words; the soundness of her judgment soonpointed out to her the dangers of such a proceeding. "I should descendfrom the throne, " said she, "merely, perhaps, to excite a momentarysympathy, which the factious would soon render more injurious thanbeneficial to me. "

Yes, not only did Marie Antoinette love France, but few women took greaterpride in the courage of Frenchmen. I could adduce a multitude of proofsof this; I will relate two traits which demonstrate the noblestenthusiasm: The Queen was telling me that, at the coronation of theEmperor Francis II. , that Prince, bespeaking the admiration of a Frenchgeneral officer, who was then an emigrant, for the fine appearance of histroops, said to him, "There are the men to beat your sans culottes!" "Thatremains to be seen, Sire, " instantly replied the officer. The Queenadded, "I don't know the name of that brave Frenchman, but I will learnit; the King ought to be in possession of it. " As she was reading thepublic papers a few days before the 10th of August, she observed thatmention was made of the courage of a young man who died in defending theflag he carried, and shouting, "Vive la Nation!"--"Ah! the fine lad!" saidthe Queen; "what a happiness it would have been for us if such men hadnever left off crying, 'Vive de Roi!'"

In all that I have hitherto said of this most unfortunate of women and ofqueens, those who did not live with her, those who knew her but partially, and especially the majority of foreigners, prejudiced by infamous libels, may imagine I have thought it my duty to sacrifice truth on the altar ofgratitude. Fortunately I can invoke unexceptionable witnesses; they willdeclare whether what I assert that I have seen and heard appears to themeither untrue or improbable. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Queen having been robbed of her purse as she was passing from theTuileries to the Feuillans, requested my sister to lend her twenty-fivelouis. 

[On being interrogated the Queen declared that these five and twenty louishad been lent to her by my sister; this formed a pretence for arrestingher and me, and led to her death. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

I spent part of the day at the Feuillans, and her Majesty told me shewould ask Potion to let me be with her in the place which the Assemblyshould decree for her prison. I then returned home to prepare everythingthat might be necessary for me to accompany her. 

On the same day (11th August), at nine in the evening, I returned to theFeuillans. I found there were orders at all the gates forbidding my beingadmitted. I claimed a right to enter by virtue of the first permissionwhich had been given to me; I was again refused. I was told that theQueen had as many people as were requisite about her. My sister was withher, as well as one of my companions, who came out of the prisons of theAbbaye on the 11th. I renewed my solicitations on the 12th; my tears andentreaties moved neither the keepers of the gates, nor even a deputy, towhom I addressed myself. 

I soon heard of the removal of Louis XVI. And his family to the Temple. Iwent to Potion accompanied by M. Valadon, for whom I had procured a placein the post-office, and who was devoted to me. He determined to go up toPotion alone; he told him that those who requested to be confined couldnot be suspected of evil designs, and that no political opinion couldafford a ground of objection to these solicitations. Seeing that thewell-meaning man did not succeed, I thought to do more in person; butPetion persisted in his refusal, and threatened to send me to La Force. Thinking to give me a kind of consolation, he added I might be certainthat all those who were then with Louis XVI. And his family would not staywith them long. And in fact, two or three days afterwards the Princessede Lamballe, Madame de Tourzel, her daughter, the Queen's first woman, thefirst woman of the Dauphin and of Madame, M. De Chamilly, and M. De Huewere carried off during the night and transferred to La Force. After thedeparture of the King and Queen for the Temple, my sister was detained aprisoner in the apartments their Majesties had quitted for twenty-fourhours. 

From this time I was reduced to the misery of having no furtherintelligence of my august and unfortunate mistress but through the mediumof the newspapers or the National Guard, who did duty at the Temple. 

The King and Queen said nothing to me at the Feuillans about the portfoliowhich had been deposited with me; no doubt they expected to see me again. The minister Roland and the deputies composing the provisional governmentwere very intent on a search for papers belonging to their Majesties. They had the whole of the Tuileries ransacked. The infamous Robespierrebethought himself of M. Campan, the Queen's private secretary, and saidthat his death was feigned; that he was living unknown in some obscurepart of France, and was doubtless the depositary of all the importantpapers. In a great portfolio belonging to the King there had been found asolitary letter from the Comte d'Artois, which, by its date, and thesubjects of which it treated, indicated the existence of a continuedcorrespondence. (This letter appeared among the documents used on thetrial of Louis XVI. ) A former preceptor of my son's had studied withRobespierre; the latter, meeting him in the street, and knowing theconnection which had subsisted between him and the family of M. Campan, required him to say, upon his honour, whether he was certain of the deathof the latter. The man replied that M. Campan had died at La Briche in1791, and that he had seen him interred in the cemetery of Epinay. "well, then, " resumed Robespierre, "bring me the certificate of his burial attwelve to-morrow; it is a document for which I have pressing occasion. "Upon hearing the deputy's demand I instantly sent for a certificate of M. Campan's burial, and Robespierre received it at nine o'clock the nextmorning. But I considered that, in thinking of my father-in-law, theywere coming very near me, the real depositary of these important papers. I passed days and nights in considering what I could do for the best undersuch circumstances. 

I was thus situated when the order to inform against those who had beendenounced as suspected on the 10th of August led to domiciliary visits. Myservants were told that the people of the quarter in which I lived weretalking much of the search that would be made in my house, and came toapprise me of it. I heard that fifty armed men would make themselvesmasters of M. Auguies house, where I then was. I had just received thisintelligence when M. Gougenot, the King's maitre d'hotel andreceiver-general of the taxes, a man much attached to his sovereign, cameinto my room wrapped in a ridingcloak, under which, with great difficulty, he carried the King's portfolio, which I had entrusted to him. He threwit down at my feet, and said to me, "There is your deposit; I did notreceive it from our unfortunate King's own hands; in delivering it to youI have executed my trust. " After saying this he was about to withdraw. Istopped him, praying him to consult with me what I ought to do in such atrying emergency. He would not listen to my entreaties, or even hear medescribe the course I intended to pursue. I told him my abode was aboutto be surrounded; I imparted to him what the Queen had said to me aboutthe contents of the portfolio. To all this he answered, "There it is;decide for yourself; I will have no hand in it. " Upon that I remained afew seconds thinking, and my conduct was founded upon the followingreasons. I spoke aloud, although to myself; I walked about the room withagitated steps; M. Gougenot was thunderstruck. "Yes, " said I, "when wecan no longer communicate with our King and receive his orders, howeverattached we may be to him, we can only serve him according to the best ofour own judgment. The Queen said to me, 'This portfolio contains scarcelyanything but documents of a most dangerous description in the event of atrial taking place, if it should fall into the hands of revolutionarypersons. ' She mentioned, too, a single document which would, under thesame circumstances, be useful. It is my duty to interpret her words, andconsider them as orders. She meant to say, 'You will save such a paper, you will destroy the rest if they are likely to be taken from you. ' If itwere not so, was there any occasion for her to enter into any detail as towhat the portfolio contained? The order to keep it was sufficient. Probably it contains, moreover, the letters of that part of the familywhich has emigrated; there is nothing which may have been foreseen ordecided upon that can be useful now; and there can be no political threadwhich has not been cut by the events of the 10th of August and theimprisonment of the King. My house is about to be surrounded; I cannotconceal anything of such bulk; I might, then, through want of foresight, give up that which would cause the condemnation of the King. Let us openthe portfolio, save the document alluded to, and destroy the rest. " Itook a knife and cut open one side of the portfolio. I saw a great numberof envelopes endorsed by the King's own hand. M. Gougenot found there theformer seals of the King, such as they were before the Assembly hadchanged the inscription. 

[No doubt it was in order to have the ancient seals ready at a moment'snotice, in case of a counter-revolution, that the Queen desired me not toquit the Tuileries. M. Gougenot threw the seals into the river, one fromabove the Pont Neuf, and the other from near the Pont Royal. --MADAMECAMPAN. ]

At this moment we heard a great noise; he agreed to tie up the portfolio, take it again under his cloak, and go to a safe place to execute what Ihad taken upon me to determine. He made me swear, by all I held mostsacred, that I would affirm, under every possible emergency, that thecourse I was pursuing had not been dictated to me by anybody; and that, whatever might be the result, I would take all the credit or all the blameupon myself. I lifted up my hand and took the oath he required; he wentout. Half an hour afterwards a great number of armed men came to myhouse; they placed sentinels at all the outlets; they broke opensecretaires and closets of which they had not the keys; they 'searched theflower-pots and boxes; they examined the cellars; and the commandantrepeatedly said, "Look particularly for papers. " In the afternoon M. Gougenot returned. He had still the seals of France about him, and hebrought me a statement of all that he had burnt. 

The portfolio contained twenty letters from Monsieur, eighteen or nineteenfrom the Comte d'Artois, seventeen from Madame Adelaide, eighteen fromMadame Victoire, a great many letters from Comte Alexandre de Lameth, andmany from M. De Malesherbes, with documents annexed to them. There werealso some from M. De Montmorin and other ex-ministers or ambassadors. Each correspondence had its title written in the King's own hand upon theblank paper which contained it. The most voluminous was that fromMirabeau. It was tied up with a scheme for an escape, which he thoughtnecessary. M. Gougenot, who had skimmed over these letters with moreattention than the rest, told me they were of so interesting a nature thatthe King had no doubt kept them as documents exceedingly valuable for ahistory of his reign, and that the correspondence with the Princes, whichwas entirely relative to what was going forward abroad, in concert withthe King, would have been fatal to him if it had been seized. After hehad finished he placed in my hands the proces-verbal, signed by all theministers, to which the King attached so much importance, because he hadgiven his opinion against the declaration of war; a copy of the letterwritten by the King to the Princes, his brothers, inviting them to returnto France; an account of the diamonds which the Queen had sent to Brussels(these two documents were in my handwriting); and a receipt for fourhundred thousand francs, under the hand of a celebrated banker. This sumwas part of the eight hundred thousand francs which the Queen hadgradually saved during her reign, out of her pension of three hundredthousand francs per annum, and out of the one hundred thousand francsgiven by way of present on the birth of the Dauphin. 

This receipt, written on a very small piece of paper, was in the cover ofan almanac. I agreed with M. Gougenot, who was obliged by his office toreside in Paris, that he should retain the proces-verbal of the Counciland the receipt for the four hundred thousand francs, and that we shouldwait either for orders or for the means of transmitting these documents tothe King or Queen; and I set out for Versailles. 

The strictness of the precautions taken to guard the illustrious prisonerswas daily increased. The idea that I could not inform the King of thecourse I had adopted of burning his papers, and the fear that I should notbe able to transmit to him that which he had pointed out as necessary, tormented me to such a degree that it is wonderful my health endured thestrain. 

The dreadful trial drew near. Official advocates were granted to theKing; the heroic virtue of M. De Malesherbes induced him to brave the mostimminent dangers, either to save his master or to perish with him. I hopedalso to be able to find some means of informing his Majesty of what I hadthought it right to do. I sent a man, on whom I could rely, to Paris, torequest M. Gougenot to come to me at Versailles he came immediately. Weagreed that he should see M. De Malesherbes without availing himself ofany intermediate person for that purpose. 

M. Gougenot awaited his return from the Temple at the door of his hotel, and made a sign that he wished to speak to him. A moment afterwards aservant came to introduce him into the magistrates' room. He imparted toM. De Malesherbes what I had thought it right to do with respect to theKing's papers, and placed in his hands the proces-verbal of the Council, which his Majesty had preserved in order to serve, if occasion requiredit, for a ground of his defence. However, that paper is not mentioned ineither of the speeches of his advocate; probably it was determined not tomake use of it. 

I stop at that terrible period which is marked by the assassination of aKing whose virtues are well known; but I cannot refrain from relating whathe deigned to say in my favour to M. De Malesherbes:

"Let Madame Campan know that she did what I should myself have ordered herto do; I thank her for it; she is one of those whom I regret I have it notin my power to recompense for their fidelity to my person, and for theirgood services. " I did not hear of this until the morning after he hadsuffered, and I think I should have sunk under my despair if thishonourable testimony had not given me some consolation. 

SUPPLEMENT TO CHAPTER IX. 

MADAME CAMPAN'S narrative breaking off abruptly at the time of the painfulend met with by her sister, we have supplemented it by abridged accountsof the chief incidents in the tragedy which overwhelmed the royal houseshe so faithfully served, taken from contemporary records and the besthistorical authorities. 

The Royal Family in the Temple. 

The Assembly having, at the instance of the Commune of Paris, decreed thatthe royal family should be immured in the Temple, they were removedthither from the Feuillans on the 13th of August, 1792, in the charge ofPotion, Mayor of Paris, and Santerre, the commandant-general. TwelveCommissioners of the general council were to keep constant watch at theTemple, which had been fortified by earthworks and garrisoned bydetachments of the National Guard, no person being allowed to enterwithout permission from the municipality. 

The Temple, formerly the headquarters of the Knights Templars in Paris, consisted of two buildings, --the Palace, facing the Rue de Temple, usuallyoccupied by one of the Princes of the blood; and the Tower, standingbehind the Palace. 

[Clery gives a more minute description of this singular building: "Thesmall tower of the Temple in which the King was then confined stood withits back against the great tower, without any interior communication, andformed a long square, flanked by two turrets. In one of these turretsthere was a narrow staircase that led from the first floor to a gallery onthe platform; in the other were small rooms, answering to each story ofthe tower. The body of the building was four stories high. The firstconsisted of an antechamber, a dining-room, and a small room in theturret, where there was a library containing from twelve to fifteenhundred volumes. The second story was divided nearly in the same manner. The largest room was the Queen's bedchamber, in which the Dauphin alsoslept; the second, which was separated from the Queen's by a smallantechamber almost without light, was occupied by Madame Royale and MadameElisabeth. The King's apartments were on the third story. He slept inthe great room, and made a study of the turret closet. There was akitchen separated from the King's chamber by a small dark room, which hadbeen successively occupied by M. De Chamilly and M. De Hue. The fourthstory was shut up; and on the ground floor there were kitchens of which nouse was made. "--"Journal, " p. 96. ]

The Tower was a square building, with a round tower at each corner and asmall turret on one side, usually called the Tourelle. In the narrativeof the Duchesse d'Angouleme she says that the soldiers who escorted theroyal prisoners wished to take the King alone to the Tower, and his familyto the Palace of the Temple, but that on the way Manuel received an orderto imprison them all in the Tower, where so little provision had been madefor their reception that Madame Elisabeth slept in the kitchen. The royalfamily were accompanied by the Princesse de Lamballe, Madame de Tourzeland her daughter Pauline, Mesdames de Navarre, de Saint-Brice, Thibaut, and Bazire, MM. De Hug and de Chamilly, and three men-servants--An orderfrom the Commune soon removed these devoted attendants, and M. De Huealone was permitted to return. "We all passed the day together, " saysMadame Royale. "My father taught my brother geography; my mother history, and to learn verses by heart; and my aunt gave him lessons in arithmetic. My father fortunately found a library which amused him, and my motherworked tapestry . . . . We went every day to walk in the garden, forthe sake of my brother's health, though the King was always insulted bythe guard. On the Feast of Saint Louis 'Ca Ira' was sung under the wallsof the Temple. Manuel that evening brought my aunt a letter from heraunts at Rome. It was the last the family received from without. Myfather was no longer called King. He was treated with no kind of respect;the officers always sat in his presence and never took off their hats. They deprived him of his sword and searched his pockets . . . . Petionsent as gaoler the horrible man--[Rocher, a saddler by trade] who hadbroken open my father's door on the 20th June, 1792, and who had been nearassassinating him. This man never left the Tower, and was indefatigablein endeavouring to torment him. One time he would sing the 'Caramgnole, 'and a thousand other horrors, before us; again, knowing that my motherdisliked the smoke of tobacco, he would puff it in her face, as well as inthat of my father, as they happened to pass him. He took care always to bein bed before we went to supper, because he knew that we must pass throughhis room. My father suffered it all with gentleness, forgiving the manfrom the bottom of his heart. My mother bore it with a dignity thatfrequently repressed his insolence. " The only occasion, Madame Royaleadds, on which the Queen showed any impatience at the conduct of theofficials, was when a municipal officer woke the Dauphin suddenly in thenight to make certain that he was safe, as though the sight of thepeacefully sleeping child would not have been in itself the bestassurance. 

Clery, the valet de chambre of the Dauphin, having with difficultyobtained permission to resume his duties, entered the Temple on the 24thAugust, and for eight days shared with M. De Hue the personal attendance;but on the 2d September De Hue was arrested, seals were placed on thelittle room he had occupied, and Clery passed the night in that of theKing. On the following morning Manuel arrived, charged by the Commune toinform the King that De Hue would not be permitted to return, and to offerto send another person. "I thank you, " answered the King. "I will managewith the valet de chambre of my son; and if the Council refuse I willserve myself. I am determined to do it. " On the 3d September Manualvisited the Temple and assured the King that Madame de Lamballe and allthe other prisoners who had been removed to La Force were well, and safelyguarded. "But at three o'clock, " says Madame Royale, "just after dinner, and as the King was sitting down to 'tric trac' with my mother (which heplayed for the purpose of having an opportunity of saying a few words toher unheard by the keepers), the most horrid shouts were heard. Theofficer who happened to be on guard in the room behaved well. He shut thedoor and the window, and even drew the curtains to prevent their seeinganything; but outside the workmen and the gaoler Rocher joined theassassins and increased the tumult. Several officers of the guard and themunicipality now arrived, and on my father's asking what was the matter, ayoung officer replied, 'Well, since you will know, it is the head ofMadame de Lamballe that they want to show you. ' At these words my motherwas overcome with horror; it was the only occasion on which her firmnessabandoned her. The municipal officers were very angry with the young man;but the King, with his usual goodness, excused him, saying that it was hisown fault, since he had questioned the officer. The noise lasted tillfive o'clock. We learned that the people had wished to force the door, and that the municipal officers had been enabled to prevent it only byputting a tricoloured scarf across it, and allowing six of the murderersto march round our prison with the head of the Princess, leaving at thedoor her body, which they would have dragged in also. "

Clery was not so fortunate as to escape the frightful spectacle. He hadgone down to dine with Tison and his wife, employed as servants in theTemple, and says: "We were hardly seated when a head, on the end of apike, was presented at the window. Tison's wife gave a great cry; theassassins fancied they recognised the Queen's voice, and responded bysavage laughter. Under the idea that his Majesty was still at table, theyplaced their dreadful trophy where it must be seen. It was the head ofthe Princesse de Lamballe; although bleeding, it was not disfigured, andher light hair, still in curls, hung about the pike. "

At length the immense mob that surrounded the Temple gradually withdrew, "to follow the head of the Princess de Lamballe to the Palais Royal. "

[The pike that bore the head was fixed before the Duc d'Orleans's windowas he was going to dinner. It is said that he looked at this horrid sightwithout horror, went into the dining-room, sat down to table, and helpedhis guests without saying a word. His silence and coolness left itdoubtful whether the assassins, in presenting him this bloody trophy, intended to offer him an insult or to pay him homage. --DE MOLLEVILLE'S"Annals of the French Revolution, " vol. Vii. , p. 398. ]

Meanwhile the royal family could scarcely believe that for the time theirlives were saved. "My aunt and I heard the drums beating to arms allnight, " says Madame Royale; "my unhappy mother did not even attempt tosleep. We heard her sobs. "

In the comparative tranquillity which followed the September massacres, the royal family resumed the regular habits they had adopted on enteringthe Temple. "The King usually rose at six in the morning, " says Clery. "He shaved himself, and I dressed his hair; he then went to hisreading-room, which, being very small, the municipal officer on dutyremained in the bedchamber with the door open, that he might always keepthe King in sight. His Majesty continued praying on his knees for sometime, and then read till nine. During that interval, after putting hischamber to rights and preparing the breakfast, I went down to the Queen, who never opened her door till I arrived, in order to prevent themunicipal officer from going into her apartment. At nine o'clock theQueen, the children, and Madame Elisabeth went up to the King's chamber tobreakfast. At ten the King and his family went down to the Queen'schamber, and there passed the day. He employed himself in educating hisson, made him recite passages from Corneille and Racine, gave him lessonsin geography, and exercised him in colouring the maps. The Queen, on herpart, was employed in the education of her daughter, and these differentlessons lasted till eleven o'clock. The remaining time till noon waspassed in needlework, knitting, or making tapestry. At one o'clock, whenthe weather was fine, the royal family were conducted to the garden byfour municipal officers and the commander of a legion of the NationalGuard. As there were a number of workmen in the Temple employed in pullingdown houses and building new walls, they only allowed a part of thechestnut-tree walk for the promenade, in which I was allowed to share, andwhere I also played with the young Prince at ball, quoits, or races. Attwo we returned to the Tower, where I served the dinner, at which timeSanterre regularly came to the Temple, attended by two aides-de-camp. TheKing sometimes spoke to him, --the Queen never. 

"After the meal the royal family came down into the Queen's room, andtheir Majesties generally played a game of piquet or tric-trac. At fouro'clock the King took a little repose, the Princesses round him, each witha book . . . . When the King woke the conversation was resumed, and Igave writing lessons to his son, taking the copies, according to hisinstructions, from the works of, Montesquieu and other celebrated authors. After the lesson I took the young Prince into Madame Elisabeth's room, where we played at ball, and battledore and shuttlecock. In the eveningthe family sat round a table, while the Queen read to them from books ofhistory, or other works proper to instruct and amuse the children. MadameElisabeth took the book in her turn, and in this manner they read tilleight o'clock. After that I served the supper of the young Prince, inwhich the royal family shared, and the King amused the children withcharades out of a collection of French papers which he found in thelibrary. After the Dauphin had supped, I undressed him, and the Queenheard him say his prayers. At nine the King went to supper, andafterwards went for a moment to the Queen's chamber, shook hands with herand his sister for the night, kissed his children, and then retired to theturret-room, where he sat reading till midnight. The Queen and thePrincesses locked themselves in, and one of the municipal officersremained in the little room which parted their chamber, where he passedthe night; the other followed his Majesty. In this manner was the timepassed as long as the King remained in the small tower. "

But even these harmless pursuits were too often made the means of furtherinsulting and thwarting the unfortunate family. Commissary Le Clercinterrupted the Prince's writing lessons, proposing to substituteRepublican works for those from which the King selected his copies. Asmith, who was present when the Queen was reading the history of France toher children, denounced her to the Commune for choosing the period whenthe Connstable de Bourbon took arms against France, and said she wished toinspire her son with unpatriotic feelings; a municipal officer assertedthat the multiplication table the Prince was studying would afford a meansof "speaking in cipher, " so arithmetic had to be abandoned. Much the sameoccurred even with the needlework, the Queen and Princess finished somechairbacks, which they wished to send to the Duchesse de Tarente; but theofficials considered that the patterns were hieroglyphics, intended forcarrying on a correspondence, and ordered that none of the Princesses workshould leave the Temple. The short daily walk in the garden was alsoembittered by the rude behaviour of the military and municipal gaolers;sometimes, however, it afforded an opportunity for marks of sympathy to beshown. People would station themselves at the windows of housesoverlooking the Temple gardens, and evince by gestures their loyalaffection, and some of the sentinels showed, even by tears, that theirduty was painful to them. 

On the 21st September the National Convention was constituted, Petionbeing made president and Collot d'Herbois moving the "abolition ofroyalty" amidst transports of applause. That afternoon a municipalofficer attended by gendarmes a cheval, and followed by a crowd of people, arrived at the Temple, and, after a flourish of trumpets, proclaimed theestablishment of the French Republic. The man, says Clery, "had the voiceof a Stentor. " The royal family could distinctly hear the announcement ofthe King's deposition. "Hebert, so well known under the title of PereDuchesne, and Destournelles were on guard. They were sitting near thedoor, and turned to the King with meaning smiles. He had a book in hishand, and went on reading without changing countenance. The Queen showedthe same firmness. The proclamation finished, the trumpets soundedafresh. I went to the window; the people took me for Louis XVI. And I wasoverwhelmed with insults. "

After the new decree the prisoners were treated with increased harshness. Pens, paper, ink, and pencils were taken from them. The King and MadameElisabeth gave up all, but the Queen and her daughter each concealed apencil. "In the beginning of October, " says Madame Royale, "after myfather had supped, he was told to stop, that he was not to return to hisformer apartments, and that he was to be separated from his family. Atthis dreadful sentence the Queen lost her usual courage. We parted fromhim with abundance of tears, though we expected to see him again in themorning. 

[At nine o'clock, says Clery, the King asked to be taken to his family, but the municipal officers replied that they had "no orders for that. "Shortly afterwards a boy brought the King some bread and a decanter oflemonade for his breakfast. The King gave half the bread to Clery, saying, "It seems they have forgotten your breakfast; take this, the restis enough for me. " Clery refused, but the King insisted. "I could notcontain my tears, " he adds; "the King perceived them, and his own fellalso. "]

They brought in our breakfast separately from his, however. My motherwould take nothing. The officers, alarmed at her silent and concentratedsorrow, allowed us to see the King, but at meal-times only, and oncondition that we should not speak low, nor in any foreign language, butloud and in 'good French. ' We went down, therefore, with the greatest joyto dine with my father. In the evening, when my brother was in bed, mymother and my aunt alternately sat with him or went with me to sup with myfather. In the morning, after breakfast, we remained in the King'sapartments while Clery dressed our hair, as he was no longer allowed tocome to my mother's room, and this arrangement gave us the pleasure ofspending a few moments more with my father. "

[When the first deputation from the Council of the Commune visited theTemple, and formally inquired whether the King had any complaint to make, he replied, "No; while he was permitted to remain with his family he washappy. "]

The royal prisoners had no comfort except their affection for each other. At that time even common necessaries were denied them. Their small stockof linen had been lent them; by persons of the Court during the time theyspent at the Feuillans. The Princesses mended their clothes every day, and after the King had gone to bed Madame Elisabeth mended his. "Withmuch trouble, " says Clrry, "I procured some fresh linen for them. But theworkwomen having marked it with crowned letters, the Princesses wereordered to pick them out. " The room in the great tower to which the Kinghad been removed contained only one bed, and no other article offurniture. A chair was brought on which Clery spent the first night;painters were still at work on the room, and the smell of the paint, hesays, was almost unbearable. This room was afterwards furnished bycollecting from various parts of the Temple a chest of drawers, a smallbureau, a few odd chairs, a chimney-glass, and a bed hung with greendamask, which had been used by the captain of the guard to the Comted'Artois. A room for the Queen was being prepared over that of the King, and she implored the workmen to finish it quickly, but it was not readyfor her occupation for some time, and when she was allowed to remove to itthe Dauphin was taken from her and placed with his father. When theirMajesties met again in the great Tower, says Clery, there was littlechange in the hours fixed for meals, reading, walking and the education oftheir children. They were not allowed to have mass said in the Temple, and therefore commissioned Clery to get them the breviary in use in thediocese of Paris. Among the books read by the King while in the Towerwere Hume's "History of England" (in the original), Tasso, and the "DeImitatione Christi. " The jealous suspicions of the municipal officers ledto the most absurd investigations; a draught-board was taken to pieceslest the squares should hide treasonable papers; macaroons were broken inhalf to see that they did not contain letters; peaches were cut open andthe stones cracked; and Clery was compelled to drink the essence of soapprepared for shaving the King, under the pretence that it might containpoison. 

In November the King and all the family had feverish colds, and Clery hadan attack of rheumatic fever. On the first day of his illness he got upand tried to dress his master, but the King, seeing how ill he was, ordered him to lie down, and himself dressed the Dauphin. The littlePrince waited on Clery all day, and in the evening the King contrived toapproach his bed, and said, in a low voice, "I should like to take care ofyou myself, but you know how we are watched. Take courage; tomorrow youshall see my doctor. " Madame Elisabeth brought the valet coolingdraughts, of which she deprived herself; and after Clery was able to getup, the young Prince one night with great difficulty kept awake tilleleven o'clock in order to give him a box of lozenges when he went to makethe King's bed. 

On 7th December a deputation from the Commune brought an order that theroyal family should be deprived of "knives, razors, scissors, penknives, and all other cutting instruments. " The King gave up a knife, and tookfrom a morocco case a pair of scissors and a penknife; and the officialsthen searched the room, taking away the little toilet implements of goldand silver, and afterwards removing the Princesses' working materials. Returning to the King's room, they insisted upon seeing what remained inhis pocket-case. "Are these toys which I have in my hand also cuttinginstruments?" asked the King, showing them a cork-screw, a turn-screw, and a steel for lighting. These also were taken from him. Shortlyafterwards Madame Elisabeth was mending the King's coat, and, having noscissors, was compelled to break the thread with her teeth. 

"What a contrast!" he exclaimed, looking at her tenderly. "You wantednothing in your pretty house at Montreuil. "

"Ah, brother, " she answered, "how can I have any regret when I partakeyour misfortunes?"

The Queen had frequently to take on herself some of the humble duties of aservant. This was especially painful to Louis XVI. When the anniversaryof some State festival brought the contrast between past and present withunusual keenness before him. 

"Ah, Madame, " he once exclaimed, "what an employment for a Queen ofFrance! Could they see that at Vienna! Who would have foreseen that, inuniting your lot to mine, you would have descended so low?"

"And do you esteem as nothing, " she replied, "the glory of being the wifeof one of the best and most persecuted of men? Are not such misfortunesthe noblest honours?"--[Alison's "History of Europe, " vol. Ii. , p. 299. ]

Meanwhile the Assembly had decided that the King should be brought totrial. Nearly all parties, except the Girondists, no matter how bitterlyopposed to each other, could agree in making him the scapegoat; and thefirst rumour of the approaching ordeal was conveyed to the Temple byClery's wife, who, with a friend, had permission occasionally to visithim. "I did not know how to announce this terrible news to the King, " hesays; "but time was pressing, and he had forbidden my concealing anythingfrom him. In the evening, while undressing him, I gave him an account ofall I had learnt, and added that there were only four days to concert someplan of corresponding with the Queen. The arrival of the municipalofficer would not allow me to say more. Next morning, when the King rose, I could not get a moment for speaking with him. He went up with his sonto breakfast with the Princesses, and I followed. After breakfast hetalked long with the Queen, who, by a look full of trouble, made meunderstand that they were discussing what I had told the King. During theday I found an opportunity of describing to Madame Elisabeth how much ithad cost me to augment the King's distresses by informing him of hisapproaching trial. She reassured me, saying that the King felt this as amark of attachment on my part, and added, 'That which most troubles him isthe fear of being separated from us. ' In the evening the King told me howsatisfied he was at having had warning that he was to appear before theConvention. 'Continue, ' he said, 'to endeavour to find out something asto what they want to do with me. Never fear distressing me. I haveagreed with my family not to seem pre-informed, in order not to compromiseyou. '"

On the 11th December, at five o'clock in the morning, the prisoners heardthe generale beaten throughout Paris, and cavalry and cannon entered theTemple gardens. At nine the King and the Dauphin went as usual tobreakfast with the Queen. They were allowed to remain together for anhour, but constantly under the eyes of their republican guardians. Atlast they were obliged to part, doubtful whether they would ever see eachother again. The little Prince, who remained with his father, and wasignorant of the new cause for anxiety, begged hard that the King wouldplay at ninepins with him as usual. Twice the Dauphin could not getbeyond a certain number. "Each time that I get up to sixteen, " he said, with some vexation, "I lose the game. " The King did not reply, but Cleryfancied the words made a painful impression on him. 

At eleven, while the King was giving the Dauphin a reading lesson, twomunicipal officers entered and said they had come "to take young Louis tohis mother. " The King inquired why, but was only told that such were theorders of the Council. At one o'clock the Mayor of Paris, Chambon, accompanied by Chaumette, Procureur de la Commune, Santerre, commandant ofthe National Guard, and others, arrived at the Temple and read a decree tothe King, which ordered that "Louis Capet" should be brought before theConvention. "Capet is not my name, " he replied, "but that of one of myancestors. I could have wished, " he added, "that you had left my son withme during the last two hours. But this treatment is consistent with all Ihave experienced here. I follow you, not because I recognise theauthority of the Convention, but because I can be compelled to obey it. "He then followed the Mayor to a carriage which waited, with a numerousescort, at the gate of the Temple. The family left behind wereoverwhelmed with grief and apprehension. "It is impossible to describethe anxiety we suffered, " says Madame Royale. "My mother used everyendeavour with the officer who guarded her to discover what was passing;it was the first time she had condescended to question any of these men. He would tell her nothing. "

Trial of the King. --Parting of the Royal Family. --Execution. 

The crowd was immense as, on the morning of the 11th December, 1792, LouisXVI. Was driven slowly from the Temple to the Convention, escorted bycavalry, infantry, and artillery. Paris looked like an armed camp: allthe posts were doubled; the muster-roll of the National Guard was calledover every hour; a picket of two hundred men watched in the court of eachof the right sections; a reserve with cannon was stationed at theTuileries, and strong detachments patroled the streets and cleared theroad of all loiterers. The trees that lined the boulevards, the doors andwindows of the houses, were alive with gazers, and all eyes were fixed onthe King. He was much changed since his people last beheld him. The beardhe had been compelled to grow after his razors were taken from him coveredcheeks, lips, and chin with light-coloured hair, which concealed themelancholy expression of his mouth; he had become thin, and his garmentshung loosely on him; but his manner was perfectly collected and calm, andhe recognised and named to the Mayor the various quarters through which hepassed. On arriving at the Feuillans he was taken to a room to await theorders of the Assembly. 

It was about half-past two when the King appeared at the bar. The Mayorand Generaux Santerre and Wittengoff were at his side. Profound silencepervaded the Assembly. All were touched by the King's dignity and thecomposure of his looks under so great a reverse of fortune. By nature hehad been formed rather to endure calamity with patience than to contendagainst it with energy. The approach of death could not disturb hisserenity. 

"Louis, you may be seated, " said Barere. "Answer the questions that shallbe put to you. " The King seated himself and listened to the reading ofthe 'acte enonciatif', article by article. All the faults of the Courtwere there enumerated and imputed to Louis XVI. Personally. He was chargedwith the interruption of the sittings of the 20th of June, 1789, with theBed of Justice held on the 23d of the same month, the aristocraticconspiracy thwarted by the insurrection of the 14th of July, theentertainment of the Life Guards, the insults offered to the nationalcockade, the refusal to sanction the Declaration of Rights, as well asseveral constitutional articles; lastly, all the facts which indicated anew conspiracy in October, and which were followed by the scenes of the5th and 6th; the speeches of reconciliation which had succeeded all thesescenes, and which promised a change that was not sincere; the false oathtaken at the Federation of the 14th of July; the secret practices of Talonand Mirabeau to effect a counter-revolution; the money spent in bribing agreat number of deputies; the assemblage of the "knights of the dagger" onthe 28th of February, 1791; the flight to Varennes; the fusilade of theChamp de Mars; the silence observed respecting the Treaty of Pilnitz; thedelay in the promulgation of the decree which incorporated Avignon withFrance; the commotions at Nimes, Montauban, Mende, and Jales; thecontinuance of their pay to the emigrant Life Guards and to the disbandedConstitutional Guard; the insufficiency of the armies assembled on thefrontiers; the refusal to sanction the decree for the camp of twentythousand men; the disarming of the fortresses; the organisation of secretsocieties in the interior of Paris; the review of the Swiss and thegarrison of the palace on the 10th August; the summoning the Mayor to theTuileries; and lastly, the effusion of blood which had resulted from thesemilitary dispositions. After each article the President paused, and said, "What have you to answer?" The King, in a firm voice, denied some of thefacts, imputed others to his ministers, and always appealed to theconstitution, from which he declared he had never deviated. His answerswere very temperate, but on the charge, "You spilt the blood of the peopleon the 10th of August, " he exclaimed, with emphasis, "No, monsieur, no; itwas not I. "

All the papers on which the act of accusation was founded were then shownto the King, and he disavowed some of them and disputed the existence ofthe iron chest; this produced a bad impression, and was worse thanuseless, as the fact had been proved. 

[A secret closet which the King had directed to be constructed in a wallin the Tuileries. The door was of iron, whence it was afterwards known bythe name of the iron chest. See Thiers, and Scott. ]

Throughout the examination the King showed great presence of mind. He wascareful in his answers never to implicate any members of the constituent, and legislative Assemblies; many who then sat as his judges trembled lesthe should betray them. The Jacobins beheld with dismay the profoundimpression made on the Convention by the firm but mild demeanour of thesovereign. The most violent of the party proposed that he should behanged that very night; a laugh as of demons followed the proposal fromthe benches of the Mountain, but the majority, composed of the Girondistsand the neutrals, decided that he should be formally tried. 

After the examination Santerre took the King by the arm and led him backto the waiting-room of the Convention, accompanied by Chambon andChaumette. Mental agitation and the length of the proceedings hadexhausted him, and he staggered from weakness. Chaumette inquired if hewished for refreshment, but the King refused it. A moment after, seeing agrenadier of the escort offer the Procureur de la Commune half a smallloaf, Louis XVI. Approached and asked him, in a whisper, for a piece. 

"Ask aloud for what you want, " said Chaumette, retreating as though hefeared being suspected of pity. 

"I asked for a piece of your bread, " replied the King. 

"Divide it with me, " said Chaumette. "It is a Spartan breakfast. If Ihad a root I would give you half. "--[Lamartine's "History of theGirondists, " edit. 1870, vol. Ii. , p. 313. ]

Soon after six in the evening the King returned to the Temple. "He seemedtired, " says Clery, simply, "and his first wish was to be led to hisfamily. The officers refused, on the plea that they had no orders. Heinsisted that at least they should be informed of his return, and this waspromised him. The King ordered me to ask for his supper at half-pasteight. The intervening hours he employed in his usual reading, surroundedby four municipals. When I announced that supper was served, the Kingasked the commissaries if his family could not come down. They made noreply. 'But at least, ' the King said, 'my son will pass the night in myroom, his bed being here?' The same silence. After supper the King againurged his wish to see his family. They answered that they must await thedecision of the Convention. While I was undressing him the King said, 'Iwas far from expecting all the questions they put to me. ' He lay downwith perfect calmness. The order for my removal during the night was notexecuted. " On the King's return to the Temple being known, "my motherasked to see him instantly, " writes Madame Royale. "She made the samerequest even to Chambon, but received no answer. My brother passed thenight with her; and as he had no bed, she gave him hers, and sat up allthe night in such deep affliction that we were afraid to leave her; butshe compelled my aunt and me to go to bed. Next day she again asked tosee my father, and to read the newspapers, that she might learn the courseof the trial. She entreated that if she was to be denied this indulgence, his children, at least, might see him. Her requests were referred to theCommune. The newspapers were refused; but my brother and I were to beallowed to see my father on condition of being entirely separated from mymother. My father replied that, great as his happiness was in seeing hischildren, the important business which then occupied him would not allowof his attending altogether to his son, and that his daughter could notleave her mother. "

[During their last interview Madame Elisabeth had given Clery one of herhandkerchiefs, saying, "You shall keep it so long as my brother continueswell; if he becomes ill, send it to me among my nephew's things. "]

The Assembly having, after a violent debate, resolved that Louis XVI. Should have the aid of counsel, a deputation was sent to the Temple toask whom he would choose. The King named Messieurs Target and Tronchet. The former refused his services on the ground that he had discontinuedpractice since 1785; the latter complied at once with the King'srequest; and while the Assembly was considering whom to, nominate inTarget's place, the President received a letter from the venerableMalesherbes, then seventy years old, and "the most respected magistratein France, " in the course of which he said: "I have been twice called tobe counsel for him who was my master, in times when that duty wascoveted by every one. I owe him the same service now that it is a dutywhich many people deem dangerous. If I knew any possible means ofacquainting him with my desires, I should not take the liberty ofaddressing myself to you. " 

[Christian Guillaume de Lamoignon de Malesherbes, an eminent Frenchstatesman, son of the Chancellor of France, was born at Paris in 1721. In1750 he succeeded his father as President of the Court of Aids, and wasalso made superintendent of the press. On the banishment of theParliaments and the suppression of the Court of Aids, Malesherbes wasexiled to his country-seat. In 1775 he was appointed Minister of State. On the decree of the Convention for the King's trial, he emerged from hisretreat to become the voluntary advocate of his sovereign. Malesherbeswas guillotined in 1794, and almost his whole family were extirpated bytheir merciless persecutors. ]

Other citizens made similar proposals, but the King, being madeacquainted with them by a deputation from the Commune, while expressinghis gratitude for all the offers, accepted only that of Malesherbes. 

[The Citoyenne Olympia Degonges, calling herself a free and loyalRepublican without spot or blame, and declaring that the cold and selfishcruelty of Target had inflamed her heroism and roused her sensibility, asked permission to assist M, de Malesherbes in defending the King. TheAssembly passed to the order of the day on this request. --BERTRAND DEMOLLEVILLE, "Annals, " edit. 1802, vol, viii. , p. 254. ]

On 14th December M. Tronchet was allowed to confer with the King, andlater in the same day M. De Malesherbes was admitted to the Tower. "TheKing ran up to this worthy old man, whom he clasped in his arms, " saidClery, "and the former minister melted into tears at the sight of hismaster. "

[According to M. De Hue, "The first time M. De Malesherbes entered theTemple, the King clasped him in his arms and said, 'Ah, is it you, myfriend? You fear not to endanger your own life to save mine; but all willbe useless. They will bring me to the scaffold. No matter; I shall gainmy cause if I leave an unspotted memory behind me. '"]

Another deputation brought the King the Act of Accusation and thedocuments relating to it, numbering more than a hundred, and taking fromfour o'clock till midnight to read. During this long process the King hadrefreshments served to the deputies, taking nothing himself till they hadleft, but considerately reproving Clery for not having supped. From the14th to the 26th December the King saw his counsel and their colleague M. De Size every day. At this time a means of communication between theroyal family and the King was devised: a man named Turgi, who had been inthe royal kitchen, and who contrived to obtain employment in the Temple, when conveying the meals of the royal family to their apartments, orarticles he had purchased for them, managed to give Madame Elisabeth newsof the King. Next day, the Princess, when Turgi was removing the dinner, slipped into his hand a bit of paper on which she had pricked with a pin arequest for a word from her brother's own hand. Turgi gave this paper toClery, who conveyed it to the King the same evening; and he, being allowedwriting materials while preparing his defence, wrote Madame Elisabeth ashort note. An answer was conveyed in a ball of cotton, which Turgi threwunder Clery's bed while passing the door of his room. Letters were alsopassed between the Princess's room and that of Clery, who lodged beneathher, by means of a string let down and drawn up at night. Thiscommunication with his family was a great comfort to the King, who, nevertheless, constantly cautioned his faithful servant. "Take care, " hewould say kindly, "you expose yourself too much. "

[The King's natural benevolence was constantly shown while in the Temple. His own dreadful position never prevented him from sympathy with thesmaller troubles of others. A servant in the Temple named Marchand, thefather of a family, was robbed of two hundred francs, --his wages for twomonths. The King observed his distress, asked its cause, and gave Clerythe amount to be handed to Marchand, with a caution not to speak of it toany one, and, above all, not to thank the King, lest it should injure himwith his employers. ]

During his separation from his family the King refused to go into thegarden. When it was proposed to him he said, "I cannot make up my mind togo out alone; the walk was agreeable to me only when I shared it with myfamily. " But he did not allow himself to dwell on painful reflections. He talked freely to the municipals on guard, and surprised them by hisvaried and practical knowledge of their trades, and his interest in theirdomestic affairs. On the 19th December the King's breakfast was served asusual; but, being a fast-day, he refused to take anything. At dinner-timethe King said to Clery, "Fourteen years ago you were up earlier than youwere to-day; it is the day my daughter was born--today, her birthday, " herepeated, with tears, "and to be prevented from seeing her!" MadameRoyale had wished for a calendar; the King ordered Clery to buy her the"Almanac of the Republic, " which had replaced the "Court Almanac, " and ranthrough it, marking with a pencil many names. 

"On Christmas Day, " Says Clery, "the King wrote his will. "

[Madame Royale says: "On the 26th December, St. Stephen's Day, my fathermade his will, because he expected to be assassinated that day on his wayto the bar of the Convention. He went thither, nevertheless, with hisusual calmness. "--"Royal Memoirs, " p. 196. ]

On the 26th December, 1792, the King appeared a second time before theConvention. M. De Seze, labouring night and day, had completed hisdefence. The King insisted on excluding from it all that was toorhetorical, and confining it to the mere discussion of essential points. 

[When the pathetic peroration of M, de Seze was read to the King, theevening before it was delivered to the Assembly, "I have to request ofyou, " he said, "to make a painful sacrifice; strike out of your pleadingthe peroration. It is enough for me to appear before such judges, andshow my entire innocence; I will not move their feelings. "--LACRETELLE. ]

At half-past nine in the morning the whole armed force was in motion toconduct him from the Temple to the Feuillans, with the same precautionsand in the same order as had been observed on the former occasion. Ridingin the carriage of the Mayor, he conversed, on the way, with the samecomposure as usual, and talked of Seneca, of Livy, of the hospitals. Arrived at the Feuillans, he showed great anxiety for his defenders; heseated himself beside them in the Assembly, surveyed with great composurethe benches where his accusers and his judges sat, seemed to examine theirfaces with the view of discovering the impression produced by the pleadingof M. De Seze, and more than once conversed smilingly with Tronchet andMalesherbes. The Assembly received his defence in sullen silence, butwithout any tokens of disapprobation. 

Being afterwards conducted to an adjoining room with his counsel, the Kingshowed great anxiety about M. De Seze, who seemed fatigued by the longdefence. While riding back to the Temple he conversed with his companionswith the same serenity as he had shown on leaving it. 

No sooner had the King left the hall of the Convention than a violenttumult arose there. Some were for opening the discussion. Others, complaining of the delays which postponed the decision of this process, demanded the vote immediately, remarking that in every court, after theaccused had been heard, the judges proceed to give their opinion. Lanjuinais had from the commencement of the proceedings felt anindignation which his impetuous disposition no longer suffered him torepress. He darted to the tribune, and, amidst the cries excited by hispresence, demanded the annulling of the proceedings altogether. Heexclaimed that the days of ferocious men were gone by, that the Assemblyought not to be so dishonoured as to be made to sit in judgment on LouisXVI. , that no authority in France had that right, and the Assembly inparticular had no claim to it; that if it resolved to act as a politicalbody, it could do no more than take measures of safety against theci-devant King; but that if it was acting as a court of justice it wasoverstepping all principles, for it was subjecting the vanquished to betried by the conquerors, since most of the present members had declaredthemselves the conspirators of the 10th of August. At the word"conspirators" a tremendous uproar arose on all aides. Cries of"Order!"--"To the Abbaye!"--"Down with the Tribune!" were heard. Lanjuinais strove in vain to justify the word "conspirators, " saying thathe meant it to be taken in a favourable sense, and that the 10th of Augustwas a glorious conspiracy. He concluded by declaring that he would ratherdie a thousand deaths than condemn, contrary to all laws, even the mostexecrable of tyrants. 

A great number of speakers followed, and the confusion continuallyincreased. The members, determined not to hear any more, mingledtogether, formed groups, abused and threatened one another. After atempest of an hour's duration, tranquillity was at last restored; and theAssembly, adopting the opinion of those who demanded the discussion on thetrial of Louis XVI. , declared that it was opened, and that it should becontinued, to the exclusion of all other business, till sentence should bepassed. 

The discussion was accordingly resumed on the 27th, and there was aconstant succession of speakers from the 28th to the 31st. Vergniaud atlength ascended the tribune for the first time, and an extraordinaryeagerness was manifested to hear the Girondists express their sentimentsby the lips of their greatest orator. 

The speech of Vergniaud produced a deep impression on all his hearers. Robespierre was thunderstruck by his earnest and, persuasive eloquence. Vergniaud, however, had but shaken, not convinced, the Assembly, whichwavered between the two parties. Several members were successively heard, for and against the appeal to the people. Brissot, Gensonne, Petion, supported it in their turn. One speaker at length had a decisiveinfluence on the question. Barere, by his suppleness, and his cold andevasive eloquence, was the model and oracle of the centre. He spoke atgreat length on the trial, reviewed it in all its bearings--of facts, oflaws, and of policy--and furnished all those weak minds, who only wantedspecious reasons for yielding, with motives for the condemnation of theKing. From that moment the unfortunate King was condemned. Thediscussion lasted till the 7th, and nobody would listen any longer to thecontinual repetition of the same facts and arguments. It was thereforedeclared to be closed without opposition, but the proposal of a freshadjournment excited a commotion among the most violent, and ended in adecree which fixed the 14th of January for putting the questions to thevote. 

Meantime the King did not allow the torturing suspense to disturb hisoutward composure, or lessen his kindness to those around him. On themorning after his second appearance at the bar of the Convention, thecommissary Vincent, who had undertaken secretly to convey to the Queen acopy of the King's printed defence, asked for something which had belongedto him, to treasure as a relic; the King took off his neck handkerchiefand gave it him; his gloves he bestowed on another municipal, who had madethe same request. "On January 1st, " says Clery, "I approached the King'sbed and asked permission to offer him my warmest prayers for the end ofhis misfortunes. 'I accept your good wishes with affection, ' he replied, extending his hand to me. As soon as he had risen, he requested amunicipal to go and inquire for his family, and present them his goodwishes for the new year. The officers were moved by the tone in whichthese words, so heartrending considering the position of the King, werepronounced . . . . The correspondence between their Majesties went onconstantly. The King being informed that Madame Royale was ill, was veryuneasy for some days. The Queen, after begging earnestly, obtainedpermission for M. Brunnier, the medical attendant of the royal children, to come to the Temple. This seemed to quiet him. "

The nearer the moment which was to decide the King's fate approached, thegreater became the agitation in, Paris. "A report was circulated that theatrocities of September were to be repeated there, and the prisoners andtheir relatives beset the deputies with supplications that they wouldsnatch them from destruction. The Jacobins, on their part, alleged thatconspiracies were hatching in all quarters to save Louis XVI. Frompunishment, and to restore royalty. Their anger, excited by delays andobstacles, assumed a more threatening aspect; and the two parties thusalarmed one another by supposing that each harboured sinister designs. "

On the 14th of January the Convention called for the order of the day, being the final judgment of Louis XVI. 

"The sitting of the Convention which concluded the trial, " says Hazlitt, "lasted seventy-two hours. It might naturally be supposed that silence, restraint, a sort of religious awe, would have pervaded the scene. On thecontrary, everything bore the marks of gaiety, dissipation, and the mostgrotesque confusion. The farther end of the hall was converted intoboxes, where ladies, in a studied deshabille, swallowed ices, oranges, liqueurs, and received the salutations of the members who went and came, as on ordinary occasions. Here the doorkeepers on the Mountain sideopened and shut the boxes reserved for the mistresses of the Ducd'Orleans; and there, though every sound of approbation or disapprobationwas strictly forbidden, you heard the long and indignant 'Ha, ha's!' ofthe mother-duchess, the patroness of the bands of female Jacobins, whenever her ears were not loudly greeted with the welcome sounds ofdeath. The upper gallery, reserved for the people, was during the wholetrial constantly full of strangers of every description, drinking wine asin a tavern. 

"Bets were made as to the issue of the trial in all the neighbouringcoffee-houses. Ennui, impatience, disgust sat on almost everycountenance. The figures passing and repassing, rendered more ghastly bythe pallid lights, and who in a slow, sepulchral voice pronounced only theword--Death; others calculating if they should have time to go to dinnerbefore they gave their verdict; women pricking cards with pins in order tocount the votes; some of the deputies fallen asleep, and only waking up togive their sentence, --all this had the appearance rather of a hideousdream than of a reality. "

The Duc d'Orleans, when called on to give his vote for the death of hisKing and relation, walked with a faltering step, and a face paler thandeath itself, to the appointed place, and there read these words:"Exclusively governed by my duty, and convinced that all those who haveresisted the sovereignty of the people deserve death, my vote is fordeath!" Important as the accession of the first Prince of the blood wasto the Terrorist faction, his conduct in this instance was too obviouslyselfish and atrocious not to excite a general feeling of indignation; theagitation of the Assembly became extreme; it seemed as if by this singlevote the fate of the monarch was irrevocably sealed. 

The President having examined the register, the result of the scrutiny wasproclaimed as follows:

 Against an appeal to the people. . . . . . . . . . . 480 For an appeal to the people. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283

 Majority for final judgment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197

The President having announced that he was about to declare the result ofthe scrutiny, a profound silence ensued, and he then gave in the followingdeclaration: that, out of 719 votes, 366 were for DEATH, 319 were forimprisonment during the war, two for perpetual imprisonment, eight for asuspension of the execution of the sentence of death until after theexpulsion of the family of the Bourbons, twenty-three were for not puttinghim to death until the French territory was invaded by any foreign power, and one was for a sentence of death, but with power of commutation of thepunishment. 

After this enumeration the President took off his hat, and, lowering hisvoice, said: "In consequence of this expression of opinion I declare thatthe punishment pronounced by the National Convention against Louis Capetis DEATH!"

Previous to the passing of the sentence the President announced on thepart of the Foreign Minister the receipt of a letter from the SpanishMinister relative to that sentence. The Convention, however, refused tohear it. [It will be remembered that a similar remonstrance was forwardedby the English Government. ]

M. De Malesherbes, according to his promise to the King, went to theTemple at nine o'clock on the morning of the 17th. 

[Louis was fully prepared for his fate. During the calling of the voteshe asked M. De Malesherbes, "Have you not met near the Temple the WhiteLady?"--"What do you mean?" replied he. "Do you not know, " resumed theKing with a smile, "that when a prince of our house is about to die, afemale dressed in white is seen wandering about the palace? My friends, "added he to his defenders, "I am about to depart before you for the landof the just, but there, at least, we shall be reunited. " In fact, hisMajesty's only apprehension seemed to be for his family. --ALISON. ]

"All is lost, " he said to Clery. "The King is condemned. " The King, whosaw him arrive, rose to receive him. 

[When M. De Malesherbes went to the Temple to announce the result of thevote, he found Louis with his forehead resting on his hands, and absorbedin a deep reverie. Without inquiring concerning his fate, he said: "Fortwo hours I have been considering whether, during my whole reign, I havevoluntarily given any cause of complaint to my subjects; and with perfectsincerity I declare that I deserve no reproach at their hands, and that Ihave never formed a wish but for their happiness. " LACRETELLE. ]

M. De Malesherbes, choked by sobs, threw himself at his feet. The Kingraised him up and affectionately embraced him. When he could control hisvoice, De Malesherbes informed the King of the decree sentencing him todeath; he made no movement of surprise or emotion, but seemed onlyaffected by the distress of his advocate, whom he tried to comfort. 

On the 20th of January, at two in the afternoon, Louis XVI. Was awaitinghis advocates, when he heard the approach of a numerous party. He stoppedwith dignity at the door of his apartment, apparently unmoved: Garat thentold him sorrowfully that he was commissioned to communicate to him thedecrees of the Convention. Grouvelle, secretary of the Executive Council, read them to him. The first declared Louis XVI. Guilty of treason againstthe general safety of the State; the second condemned him to death; thethird rejected any appeal to the people; and the fourth and last orderedhis execution in twenty-four hours. Louis, looking calmly round, took thepaper from Grouvelle, and read Garat a letter, in which he demanded fromthe Convention three days to prepare for death, a confessor to assist himin his last moments, liberty to see his family, and permission for them toleave France. Garat took the letter, promising to submit it immediatelyto the Convention. 

Louis XVI. Then went back into his room with great composure, ordered hisdinner, and ate as usual. There were no knives on the table, and hisattendants refused to let him have any. "Do they think me so cowardly, "he exclaimed, "as to lay violent hands on myself? I am innocent, and I amnot afraid to die. "

The Convention refused the delay, but granted some other demands which hehad made. Garat sent for Edgeworth de Firmont, the ecclesiastic whomLouis XVI. Had chosen, and took him in his own carriage to the Temple. M. Edgeworth, on being ushered into the presence of the King, would havethrown himself at his feet, but Louis instantly raised him, and both shedtears of emotion. He then, with eager curiosity, asked various questionsconcerning the clergy of France, several bishops, and particularly theArchbishop of Paris, requesting him to assure the latter that he diedfaithfully attached to his communion. --The clock having struck eight, herose, begged M. Edgeworth to wait, and retired with emotion, saying thathe was going to see his family. The municipal officers, unwilling to losesight of the King, even while with his family, had decided that he shouldsee them in the dining-room, which had a glass door, through which theycould watch all his motions without hearing what he said. At half-pasteight the door opened. The Queen, holding the Dauphin by the hand, MadameElisabeth, and Madame Royale rushed sobbing into the arms of Louis XVI. The door was closed, and the municipal officers, Clery, and M. Edgeworthplaced themselves behind it. During the first moments, it was but a sceneof confusion and despair. Cries and lamentations prevented those who wereon the watch from distinguishing anything. At length the conversationbecame more calm, and the Princesses, still holding the King clasped intheir arms, spoke with him in a low tone. "He related his trial to mymother, " says Madame Royale, "apologising for the wretches who hadcondemned him. He told her that he would not consent to any attempt tosave him, which might excite disturbance in the country. He then gave mybrother some religious advice, and desired him, above all, to forgivethose who caused his death; and he gave us his blessing. My mother wasvery desirous that the whole family should pass the night with my father, but he opposed this, observing to her that he much needed some hours ofrepose and quiet. " After a long conversation, interrupted by silence andgrief, the King put an end to the painful meeting, agreeing to see hisfamily again at eight the next morning. "Do you promise that you will?"earnestly inquired the Princesses. "Yes, yes, " sorrowfully replied theKing. 

["But when we were gone, " says his daughter, "he requested that we mightnot be permitted to return, as our presence afflicted him too much. "]

At this moment the Queen held him by one arm, Madame Elisabeth by theother, while Madame Royale clasped him round the waist, and the Dauphinstood before him, with one hand in that of his mother. At the moment ofretiring Madame Royale fainted; she was carried away, and the Kingreturned to M. Edgeworth deeply depressed by this painful interview. TheKing retired to rest about midnight; M. Edgeworth threw himself upon abed, and Clery took his place near the pillow of his master. 

Next morning, the 21st of January, at five, the King awoke, called Clery, and dressed with great calmness. He congratulated himself on havingrecovered his strength by sleep. Clery kindled a fire, and moved a chestof drawers, out of which he formed an altar. M. Edgeworth put on hispontifical robes, and began to celebrate mass. Clery waited on him, andthe King listened, kneeling with the greatest devotion. He then receivedthe communion from the hands of M. Edgeworth, and after mass rose with newvigour, and awaited with composure the moment for going to the scaffold. He asked for scissors that Clery might cut his hair; but the Communerefused to trust him with a pair. 

At this moment the drums were beating in the capital. All who belonged tothe armed sections repaired to their company with complete submission. Itwas reported that four or five hundred devoted men, were to make a dashupon the carriage, and rescue the King. The Convention, the Commune, theExecutive Council, and the Jacobins were sitting. At eight in themorning, Santerre, with a deputation from the Commune, the department, andthe criminal tribunal, repaired to the Temple. Louis XVI. , on hearingthem arrive, rose and prepared to depart. He desired Clery to transmithis last farewell to his wife, his sister, and his children; he gave him asealed packet, hair, and various trinkets, with directions to deliverthese articles to them. 

[In the course of the morning the King said to me: "You will give thisseal to my son and this ring to the Queen, and assure her that it is withpain I part with it. This little packet contains the hair of all myfamily; you will give her that, too. Tell the Queen, my dear sister, andmy children, that, although I promised to see them again this morning, Ihave resolved to spare them the pang of so cruel a separation. Tell themhow much it costs me to go away without receiving their embraces oncemore!" He wiped away some tears, and then added, in the most mournfulaccents, "I charge you to bear them my last farewell. "--CLERY. ]

He then clasped his hand and thanked him for his services. After this headdressed himself to one of the municipal officers, requesting him totransmit his last will to the Commune. This officer, who had formerlybeen a priest, and was named Jacques Roux, brutally replied that hisbusiness was to conduct him to execution, and not to perform hiscommissions. Another person took charge of it, and Louis, turning towardsthe party, gave with firmness the signal for starting. 

Officers of gendarmerie were placed on the front seat of the carriage. TheKing and M. Edgeworth occupied the back. During the ride, which wasrather long, the King read in M. Edgeworth's breviary the prayers forpersons at the point of death; the two gendarmes were astonished at hispiety and tranquil resignation. The vehicle advanced slowly, and amidstuniversal silence. At the Place de la Revolution an extensive space hadbeen left vacant about the scaffold. Around this space were plantedcannon; the most violent of the Federalists were stationed about thescaffold; and the vile rabble, always ready to insult genius, virtue, andmisfortune, when a signal is given it to do so, crowded behind the ranksof the Federalists, and alone manifested some outward tokens ofsatisfaction. 

At ten minutes past ten the carriage stopped. Louis XVI. , rising briskly, stepped out into the Place. Three executioners came up; he refused theirassistance, and took off his clothes himself. But, perceiving that theywere going to bind his hands, he made a movement of indignation, andseemed ready to resist. M. Edgeworth gave him a last look, and said, "Suffer this outrage, as a last resemblance to that God who is about to beyour reward. " At these words the King suffered himself to be bound andconducted to the scaffold. All at once Louis hurriedly advanced toaddress the people. "Frenchmen, " said he, in a firm voice, "I dieinnocent of the crimes which are imputed to me; I forgive the authors ofmy death, and I pray that my blood may not fall upon France. " He wouldhave continued, but the drums were instantly ordered to beat: theirrolling drowned his voice; the executioners laid hold of him, and M. Edgeworth took his leave in these memorable words: "Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!" As soon as the blood flowed, furious wretches dippedtheir pikes and handkerchiefs in it, then dispersed throughout Paris, shouting "Vive la Republique! Vive la Nation!" and even went to thegates of the Temple to display brutal and factious joy. 

[The body of Louis was, immediately after the execution, removed to theancient cemetery of the Madeleine. Large quantities of quicklime werethrown into the grave, which occasioned so rapid a decomposition that, when his remains were sought for in 1816, it was with difficulty any partcould be recovered. Over the spot where he was interred Napoleoncommenced the splendid Temple of Glory, after the battle of Jena; and thesuperb edifice was completed by the Bourbons, and now forms the Church ofthe Madeleine, the most beautiful structure in Paris. Louis was executedon the same ground where the Queen, Madame Elisabeth, and so many othernoble victims of the Revolution perished; where Robespierre and Dantonafterwards suffered; and where the Emperor Alexander and the alliedsovereigns took their station, when their victorious troops entered Parisin 1814! The history of modern Europe has not a scene fraught withequally interesting recollections to exhibit. It is now marked by thecolossal obelisk of blood-red granite which was brought from Thebes, inUpper Egypt, in 1833, by the French Government. --ALLISON. ]

The Royal Prisoners. --Separation of the Dauphin from His Family. --Removal of the Queen. 

On the morning of the King's execution, according to the narrative ofMadame Royale, his family rose at six: "The night before, my mother hadscarcely strength enough to put my brother to bed; She threw herself, dressed as she was, on her own bed, where we heard her shivering with coldand grief all night long. At a quarter-past six the door opened; webelieved that we were sent for to the King, but it was only the officerslooking for a prayer-book for him. We did not, however, abandon the hopeof seeing him, till shouts of joy from the infuriated populace told usthat all was over. In the afternoon my mother asked to see Clery, whoprobably had some message for her; we hoped that seeing him would occasiona burst of grief which might relieve the state of silent and choking agonyin which we saw her. " The request was refused, and the officers whobrought the refusal said Clery was in "a frightful state of despair" atnot being allowed to see the royal family; shortly afterwards he wasdismissed from the Temple. 

"We had now a little more freedom, " continues the Princess; "our guardseven believed that we were about to be sent out of France; but nothingcould calm my mother's agony; no hope could touch her heart, and life ordeath became indifferent to her. Fortunately my own affliction increasedmy illness so seriously that it distracted her thoughts . . . . Mymother would go no more to the garden, because she must have passed thedoor of what had been my father's room, and that she could not bear. Butfearing lest want of air should prove injurious to my brother and me, about the end of February she asked permission to walk on the leads of theTower, and it was granted. "

The Council of the Commune, becoming aware of the interest which these sadpromenades excited, and the sympathy with which they were observed fromthe neighbouring houses, ordered that the spaces between the battlementsshould be filled up with shutters, which intercepted the view. But whilethe rules for the Queen's captivity were again made more strict, some ofthe municipal commissioners tried slightly to alleviate it, and by meansof M. De Hue, who was at liberty in Paris, and the faithful Turgi, whoremained in the Tower, some communications passed between the royal familyand their friends. The wife of Tison, who waited on the Queen, suspectedand finally denounced these more lenient guardians, --[Toulan, Lepitre, Vincent, Bruno, and others. ]--who were executed, the royal prisoners beingsubjected to a close examination. 

"On the 20th of April, " says Madame Royale, "my mother and I had just goneto bed when Hebert arrived with several municipals. We got up hastily, and these men read us a decree of the Commune directing that we should besearched. My poor brother was asleep; they tore him from his bed underthe pretext of examining it. My mother took him up, shivering with cold. All they took was a shopkeeper's card which my mother had happened tokeep, a stick of sealing-wax from my aunt, and from me 'une sacre coeur deJesus' and a prayer for the welfare of France. The search lasted fromhalf-past ten at night till four o'clock in the morning. "

The next visit of the officials was to Madame Elisabeth alone; they foundin her room a hat which the King had worn during his imprisonment, andwhich she had begged him to give her as a souvenir. They took it from herin spite of her entreaties. "It was suspicious, " said the cruel andcontemptible tyrants. 

The Dauphin became ill with fever, and it was long before his mother, whowatched by him night and day, could obtain medicine or advice for him. When Thierry was at last allowed to see him his treatment relieved themost violent symptoms, but, says Madame Royale, "his health was neverreestablished. Want of air and exercise did him great mischief, as wellas the kind of life which this poor child led, who at eight years of agepassed his days amidst the tears of his friends, and in constant anxietyand agony. "

While the Dauphin's health was causing his family such alarm, they weredeprived of the services of Tison's wife, who became ill, and finallyinsane, and was removed to the Hotel Dieu, where her ravings were reportedto the Assembly and made the ground of accusations against the royalprisoners. 

[This woman, troubled by remorse, lost her reason, threw herself at thefeet of the Queen, implored her pardon, and disturbed the Temple for manydays with the sight and the noise of her madness. The Princesses, forgetting the denunciations of this unfortunate being, in considerationof her repentance and insanity, watched over her by turns, and deprivedthemselves of their own food to relieve her. --LAMARTINE, "History of theGirondists, " vol. Iii. , p. 140. ]

No woman took her place, and the Princesses themselves made their beds, swept their rooms, and waited upon the Queen. 

Far worse punishments than menial work were prepared for them. On 3d Julya decree of the Convention ordered that the Dauphin should be separatedfrom his family and "placed in the most secure apartment of the Tower. "As soon as he heard this decree pronounced, says his sister, "he threwhimself into my mother's arms, and with violent cries entreated not to beparted from her. My mother would not let her son go, and she actuallydefended against the efforts of the officers the bed in which she hadplaced him. The men threatened to call up the guard and use violence. Mymother exclaimed that they had better kill her than tear her child fromher. At last they threatened our lives, and my mother's maternaltenderness forced her to the sacrifice. My aunt and I dressed the child, for my poor mother had no longer strength for anything. Nevertheless, whenhe was dressed, she took him up in her arms and delivered him herself tothe officers, bathing him with her tears, foreseeing that she was never tobehold him again. The poor little fellow embraced us all tenderly, andwas carried away in a flood of tears. My mother's horror was extreme whenshe heard that Simon, a shoemaker by trade, whom she had seen as amunicipal officer in the Temple, was the person to whom her child wasconfided . . . . The officers now no longer remained in my mother'sapartment; they only came three times a day to bring our meals and examinethe bolts and bars of our windows; we were locked up together night andday. We often went up to the Tower, because my brother went, too, fromthe other side. The only pleasure my mother enjoyed was seeing himthrough a crevice as he passed at a distance. She would watch for hourstogether to see him as he passed. It was her only hope, her onlythought. "

The Queen was soon deprived even of this melancholy consolation. On 1stAugust, 1793, it was resolved that she should be tried. Robespierreopposed the measure, but Barere roused into action that deep-rooted hatredof the Queen which not even the sacrifice of her life availed toeradicate. "Why do the enemies of the Republic still hope for success?"he asked. "Is it because we have too long forgotten the crimes of theAustrian? The children of Louis the Conspirator are hostages for theRepublic . . . But behind them lurks a woman who has been the cause ofall the disasters of France. "

At two o'clock on the morning of the following day, the municipal officers"awoke us, " says Madame Royale, "to read to my mother the decree of theConvention, which ordered her removal to the Conciergerie, [The Conciergerie was originally, as its name implies, the porter's lodgeof the ancient Palace of Justice, and became in time a prison, from thecustom of confining there persons who had committed trifling offencesabout the Court. ]

preparatory to her trial. She heard it without visible emotion, andwithout speaking a single word. My aunt and I immediately asked to beallowed to accompany my mother, but this favour was refused us. All thetime my mother was making up a bundle of clothes to take with her, theseofficers never left her. She was even obliged to dress herself beforethem, and they asked for her pockets, taking away the trifles theycontained. She embraced me, charging me to keep up my spirits and mycourage, to take tender care of my aunt, and obey her as a second mother. She then threw herself into my aunt's arms, and recommended her childrento her care; my aunt replied to her in a whisper, and she was then hurriedaway. In leaving the Temple she struck her head against the wicket, nothaving stooped low enough. 

[Mathieu, the gaoler, used to say, "I make Madame Veto and her sister anddaughter, proud though they are, salute me; for the door is so low theycannot pass without bowing. "]

The officers asked whether she had hurt herself. 'No, ' she replied, 'nothing can hurt me now. "

The Last Moments of Marie Antoinette. 

We have already seen what changes had been made in the Temple. MarieAntoinette had been separated from her sister, her daughter, and her Son, by virtue of a decree which ordered the trial and exile of the lastmembers of the family of the Bourbons. She had been removed to theConciergerie, and there, alone in a narrow prison, she was reduced to whatwas strictly necessary, like the other prisoners. The imprudence of adevoted friend had rendered her situation still more irksome. Michonnis, amember of the municipality, in whom she had excited a warm interest, wasdesirous of introducing to her a person who, he said, wished to see herout of curiosity. This man, a courageous emigrant, threw to her acarnation, in which was enclosed a slip of very fine paper with thesewords: "Your friends are ready, "--false hope, and equally dangerous forher who received it, and for him who gave it! Michonnis and the emigrantwere detected and forthwith apprehended; and the vigilance exercised inregard to the unfortunate prisoner became from that day more rigorous thanever. 

[The Queen was lodged in a room called the council chamber, which wasconsidered as the moat unwholesome apartment in the Conciergerie onaccount of its dampness and the bad smells by which it was continuallyaffected. Under pretence of giving her a person to wait upon her theyplaced near her a spy, --a man of a horrible countenance and hollow, sepulchral voice. This wretch, whose name was Barassin, was a robber andmurderer by profession. Such was the chosen attendant on the Queen ofFrance! A few days before her trial this wretch was removed and agendarme placed in her chamber, who watched over her night and day, andfrom whom she was not separated, even when in bed, but by a raggedcurtain. In this melancholy abode Marie Antoinette had no other dressthan an old black gown, stockings with holes, which she was forced to mendevery day; and she was entirely destitute of shoes. --DU BROCA. ]

Gendarmes were to mount guard incessantly at the door of her prison, andthey were expressly forbidden to answer anything that she might say tothem. 

That wretch Hebert, the deputy of Chaumette, and editor of the disgustingpaper Pere Duchesne, a writer of the party of which Vincent, Ronsin, Varlet, and Leclerc were the leaders--Hebert had made it his particularbusiness to torment the unfortunate remnant of the dethroned family. Heasserted that the family of the tyrant ought not to be better treated thanany sans-culotte family; and he had caused a resolution to be passed bywhich the sort of luxury in which the prisoners in the Temple weremaintained was to be suppressed. They were no longer to be allowed eitherpoultry or pastry; they were reduced to one sort of aliment for breakfast, and to soup or broth and a single dish for dinner, to two dishes forsupper, and half a bottle of wine apiece. Tallow candles were to befurnished instead of wag, pewter instead of silver plate, and delft wareinstead of porcelain. The wood and water carriers alone were permitted toenter their room, and that only accompanied by two commissioners. Theirfood was to be introduced to them by means of a turning box. The numerousestablishment was reduced to a cook and an assistant, two men-servants, and a woman-servant to attend to the linen. 

As soon as this resolution was passed, Hebert had repaired to the Templeand inhumanly taken away from the unfortunate prisoners even the mosttrifling articles to which they attached a high value. Eighty Louis whichMadame Elisabeth had in reserve, and which she had received from Madame deLamballe, were also taken away. No one is more dangerous, more cruel, than the man without acquirements, without education, clothed with arecent authority. If, above all, he possess a base nature, if, likeHebert, who was check-taker at the door of a theatre, and embezzled moneyout of the receipts, he be destitute of natural morality, and if he leapall at once from the mud of his condition into power, he is as mean as heis atrocious. Such was Hebert in his conduct at the Temple. He did notconfine himself to the annoyances which we have mentioned. He and someothers conceived the idea of separating the young Prince from his aunt andsister. A shoemaker named Simon and his wife were the instructors to whomit was deemed right to consign him for the purpose of giving him asans-cullotte education. Simon and his wife were shut up in the Temple, and, becoming prisoners with the unfortunate child, were directed to bringhim up in their own way. Their food was better than that of thePrincesses, and they shared the table of the municipal commissioners whowere on duty. Simon was permitted to go down, accompanied by twocommissioners, to the court of the Temple, for the purpose of giving theDauphin a little exercise. 

Hebert conceived the infamous idea of wringing from this boy revelationsto criminate his unhappy mother. Whether this wretch imputed to the childfalse revelations, or abused his, tender age and his condition to extortfrom him what admissions soever he pleased, he obtained a revoltingdeposition; and as the youth of the Prince did not admit of his beingbrought before the tribunal, Hebert appeared and detailed the infamousparticulars which he had himself either dictated or invented. 

It was on the 14th of October that Marie Antoinette appeared before herjudges. Dragged before the sanguinary tribunal by inexorablerevolutionary vengeance, she appeared there without any chance ofacquittal, for it was not to obtain her acquittal that the Jacobins hadbrought her before it. It was necessary, however, to make some charges. Fouquier therefore collected the rumours current among the populace eversince the arrival of the Princess in France, and, in the act ofaccusation, he charged her with having plundered the exchequer, first forher pleasures, and afterwards in order to transmit money to her brother, the Emperor. He insisted on the scenes of the 5th and 6th of October, andon the dinners of the Life Guards, alleging that she had at that periodframed a plot, which obliged the people to go to Versailles to frustrateit. He afterwards accused her of having governed her husband, interferedin the choice of ministers, conducted the intrigues with the deputiesgained by the Court, prepared the journey to Varennes, provoked the war, and transmitted to the enemy's generals all our plans of campaign. Hefurther accused her of having prepared a new conspiracy on the 10th ofAugust, of having on that day caused the people to be fired upon, havinginduced her husband to defend himself by taxing him with cowardice;lastly, of having never ceased to plot and correspond with foreignerssince her captivity in the Temple, and of having there treated her youngson as King. We here observe how, on the terrible day of long-deferredvengeance, when subjects at length break forth and strike such of theirprinces as have not deserved the blow, everything is distorted andconverted into crime. We see how the profusion and fondness for pleasure, so natural to a young princess, how her attachment to her native country, her influence over her husband, her regrets, always more indiscreet in awoman than a man, nay, even her bolder courage, appeared to their inflamedor malignant imaginations. 

It was necessary to produce witnesses. Lecointre, deputy of Versailles, who had seen what had passed on the 5th and 6th of October, Hebert, whohad frequently visited the Temple, various clerks in the ministerialoffices, and several domestic servants of the old Court were summoned. . Admiral d'Estaing, formerly commandant of the guard of Versailles; Manuel, the ex-procureur of the Commune; Latour-du-Pin, minister of war in 1789;the venerable Bailly, who, it was said, had been, with La Fayette, anaccomplice in the journey to Varennes; lastly, Valaze one of theGirondists destined to the scaffold, were taken from their prisons andcompelled to give evidence. 

No precise fact was elicited. Some had seen the Queen in high spiritswhen the Life Guards testified their attachment; others had seen her vexedand dejected while being conducted to Paris, or brought back fromVarennes; these had been present at splendid festivities which must havecost enormous sums; those had heard it said in the ministerial officesthat the Queen was adverse to the sanction of the decrees. An ancientwaiting-woman of the Queen had heard the Duc de Coigny say, in 1788, thatthe Emperor had already received two hundred millions from France to makewar upon the Turks. 

The cynical Hebert, being brought before the unfortunate Queen, dared atlength to prefer the charges wrung from the young Prince. He said thatCharles Capet had given Simon an account of the journey to Varennes, andmentioned La Fayette and Bailly as having cooperated in it. He then addedthat this boy was addicted to odious and very premature vices for his age;that he had been surprised by Simon, who, on questioning him, learned thathe derived from his mother the vices in which he indulged. Hebert saidthat it was no doubt the intention of Marie Antoinette, by weakening thus, early the physical constitution of her son, to secure to herself the meansof ruling him in case he should ever ascend the throne. The rumours whichhad been whispered for twenty years by a malicious Court had given thepeople a most unfavourable opinion of the morals of the Queen. Thataudience, however, though wholly Jacobin, was disgusted at the accusationsof Hebert. 

[Can there be a more infernal invention than that made against the. Queenby Hdbert, --namely, that she had had an improper intimacy with her ownson? He made use of this sublime idea of which he boasted in order toprejudice the women against the Queen, and to prevent her execution fromexciting pity. It had, however, no other effect than that of disgustingall parties. --PRUDHOMME. ]

He nevertheless persisted in supporting them. 

[Hebert did not long survive her in whose sufferings he had taken such aninfamous part. He was executed on 26th March, 1794. ]

The unhappy mother made no reply. Urged a new to explain herself, shesaid, with extraordinary emotion, "I thought that human nature wouldexcuse me from answering such an imputation, but I appeal from it to theheart of every mother here present. " This noble and simple reply affectedall who heard it. 

In the depositions of the witnesses, however, all was not so bitter forMarie Antoinette. The brave D'Estaing, whose enemy she had been, wouldnot say anything to inculpate her, and spoke only of the courage which shehad shown on the 5th and 6th of October, and of the noble resolution whichshe had expressed, to die beside her husband rather than fly. Manuel, inspite of his enmity to the Court during the time of the LegislativeAssembly, declared that he could not say anything against the accused. When the venerable Bailly was brought forward, who formerly so oftenpredicted to the Court the calamities which its imprudence must produce, he appeared painfully affected; and when he was asked if he knew the wifeof Capet, "Yes, " said he, bowing respectfully, "I have known Madame. " Hedeclared that he knew nothing, and maintained that the declarationsextorted from the young Prince relative to the journey to Varennes werefalse. In recompense for his deposition he was assailed with outrageousreproaches, from which he might judge what fate would soon be awarded tohimself. 

In all the evidence there appeared but two serious facts, attested byLatour-du-Pin and Valaze, who deposed to them because they could not helpit. Latour-du-Pin declared that Marie Antoinette had applied to him foran accurate statement of the armies while he was minister of war. Valaze, always cold, but respectful towards misfortune, would not say anything tocriminate the accused; yet he could not help declaring that, as a memberof the commission of twenty-four, being charged with his colleagues toexamine the papers found at the house of Septeuil, treasurer of the civillist, he had seen bonds for various sums signed Antoinette, which was verynatural; but he added that he had also seen a letter in which the ministerrequested the King to transmit to the Queen the copy of the plan ofcampaign which he had in his hands. The most unfavourable constructionwas immediately put upon these two facts, the application for a statementof the armies, and the communication of the plan of campaign; and it wasconcluded that they could not be wanted for any other purpose than to besent to the enemy, for it was not supposed that a young princess shouldturn her attention, merely for her own satisfaction, to matters ofadministration and military, plans. After these depositions, severalothers were received respecting the expenses of the Court, the influenceof the Queen in public affairs, the scene of the 10th of August, and whathad passed in the Temple; and the most vague rumours and most trivialcircumstances were eagerly caught at as proofs. 

Marie Antoinette frequently repeated, with presence of mind and firmness, that there was no precise fact against her; that, besides, though thewife of Louis XVI. , she was not answerable for any of the acts of hisreign. 

[At first the Queen, consulting only her own sense of dignity, hadresolved on her trial to make no other reply to the questions of herjudges than "Assassinate me as you have already assassinated my husband!"Afterwards, however, she determined to follow the example of the King, exert herself in her defence, and leave her judges without any excuse orpretest for putting her to death. --WEBER'S "Memoirs of Marie Antoinette. "]

Fouquier nevertheless declared her to be sufficiently convicted;Chaveau-Lagarde made unavailing efforts to defend her; and theunfortunate Queen was condemned to suffer the same fate as her husband. 

Conveyed back to the Conciergerie, she there passed in tolerable composurethe night preceding her execution, and, on the morning of the followingday, the 16th of October, she was conducted, amidst a great concourse ofthe populace, to the fatal spot where, ten months before, Louis XVI. Had perished. 

[The Queen, after having written and prayed, slept soundly for some hours. On her waking, Bault's daughter dressed her and adjusted her hair withmore neatness than on other days. Marie Antoinette wore a white gown, awhite handkerchief covered her shoulders, a white cap her hair; a blackribbon bound this cap round her temples. . . . The cries, the looks, thelaughter, the jests of the people overwhelmed her with humiliation; hercolour, changing continually from purple to paleness, betrayed heragitation. . . . On reaching the scaffold she inadvertently trod on theexecutioner's foot. "Pardon me, " she said, courteously. She knelt for aninstant and uttered a half-audible prayer; then rising and glancingtowards the towers of the Temple, "Adieu, once again, my children, " shesaid; "I go to rejoin your father. "--LAMARTINE. ]

She listened with calmness to the exhortations of the ecclesiastic whoaccompanied her, and cast an indifferent look at the people who had sooften applauded her beauty and her grace, and who now as warmlyapplauded her execution. On reaching the foot of the scaffold sheperceived the Tuileries, and appeared to be moved; but she hastened toascend the fatal ladder, and gave herself up with courage to theexecutioner. 

[Sorrow had blanched the Queen's once beautiful hair; but her features andair still commanded the admiration of all who beheld her; her cheeks, paleand emaciated, were occasionally tinged with a vivid colour at the mentionof those she had lost. When led out to execution, she was dressed inwhite; she had cut off her hair with her own hands. Placed in a tumbrel, with her arms tied behind her, she was taken by a circuitous route to thePlace de la Revolution, and she ascended the scaffold with a firm anddignified step, as if she had been about to take her place on a throne bythe side of her husband. -LACRETELLE. ]

The infamous wretch exhibited her head to the people, as he was accustomedto do when he had sacrificed an illustrious victim. 

The Last Separation. --Execution of Madame Elisabeth. --Death of the Dauphin. 

The two Princesses left in the Temple were now almost inconsolable; theyspent days and nights in tears, whose only alleviation was that they wereshed together. "The company of my aunt, whom I loved so tenderly, " saidMadame Royale, "was a great comfort to me. But alas! all that I lovedwas perishing around me, and I was soon to lose her also . . . . Inthe beginning of September I had an illness caused solely by my anxietyabout my mother; I never heard a drum beat that I did not expect another3d of September. "--[when the head of the Princesse de Lamballe was carriedto the Temple. ]

In the course of the month the rigour of their captivity was muchincreased. The Commune ordered that they should only have one room; thatTison (who had done the heaviest of the household work for them, and sincethe kindness they showed to his insane wife had occasionally given themtidings of the Dauphin) should be imprisoned in the turret; that theyshould be supplied with only the barest necessaries; and that no oneshould enter their room save to carry water and firewood. Their quantityof firing was reduced, and they were not allowed candles. They were alsoforbidden to go on the leads, and their large sheets were taken away, "lest--notwithstanding the gratings!--they should escape from thewindows. "

On 8th October, 1793, Madame Royale was ordered to go downstairs, that shemight be interrogated by some municipal officers. "My aunt, who wasgreatly affected, would have followed, but they stopped her. She askedwhether I should be permitted to come up again; Chaumette assured her thatI should. 'You may trust, ' said he, 'the word of an honest republican. She shall return. ' I soon found myself in my brother's room, whom Iembraced tenderly; but we were torn asunder, and I was obliged to go intoanother room. --[This was the last time the brother and sister met] . . . Chaumette then questioned me about a thousand shocking things of whichthey accused my mother and aunt; I was so indignant at hearing suchhorrors that, terrified as I was, I could not help exclaiming that theywere infamous falsehoods. 

"But in spite of my tears they still pressed their questions. There weresome things which I did not comprehend, but of which I understood enoughto make me weep with indignation and horror . . . . They then asked meabout Varennes, and other things. I answered as well as I could withoutimplicating anybody. I had always heard my parents say that it werebetter to die than to implicate anybody. " When the examination was overthe Princess begged to be allowed to join her mother, but Chaumette saidhe could not obtain permission for her to do so. She was then cautionedto say nothing about her examination to her aunt, who was next to appearbefore them. Madame Elisabeth, her niece declares, "replied with stillmore contempt to their shocking questions. "

The only intimation of the Queen's fate which her daughter and hersister-in-law were allowed to receive was through hearing her sentencecried by the newsman. But "we could not persuade ourselves that she wasdead, " writes Madame Royale. "A hope, so natural to the unfortunate, persuaded us that she must have been saved. For eighteen months Iremained in this cruel suspense. We learnt also by the cries of thenewsman the death of the Duc d'Orleans. It was the only piece of newsthat reached us during the whole winter. "

[The Duc d'Orleans, the early and interested propagator of the Revolution, was its next victim. Billaud Varennes said in the Convention: "The timehas come when all the conspirators should be known and struck. I demandthat we no longer pass over in silence a man whom we seem to haveforgotten, despite the numerous facts against him. I demand thatD'ORLEANS be sent to the Revolutionary Tribunal. " The Convention, oncehis hireling adulators, unanimously supported the proposal. In vain healleged his having been accessory to the disorders of 5th October, hissupport of the revolt on 10th August, 1792, his vote against the King on17th January, 1793. His condemnation was pronounced. He then asked onlyfor a delay of twenty-four hours, and had a repast carefully prepared, onwhich he feasted with avidity. When led out for execution he gazed with asmile on the Palais Royal, the scene of his former orgies. He was detainedfor a quarter of an hour before that palace by the order of Robespierre, who had asked his daughter's hand, and promised in return to excite atumult in which the Duke's life should be saved. Depraved though he was, he would not consent to such a sacrifice, and he met his fate with stoicalfortitude. --ALLISON, vol. Iii. , p. 172. ]

The severity with which the prisoners were treated was carried into everydetail of their life. The officers who guarded them took away theirchessmen and cards because some of them were named kings and queens, andall the books with coats of arms on them; they refused to get ointment fora gathering on Madame Elisabeth's arm; they, would not allow her to make aherb-tea which she thought would strengthen her niece; they declined tosupply fish or eggs on fast-days or during Lent, bringing only coarse fatmeat, and brutally replying to all remonstances, "None but fools believein that stuff nowadays. " Madame Elisabeth never made the officialsanother request, but reserved some of the bread and cafe-au-lait from herbreakfast for her second meal. The time during which she could be thustormented was growing short. 

On 9th May, 1794, as the Princesses were going to bed, the outside boltsof the door were unfastened and a loud knocking was heard. "When my auntwas dressed, " says Madame Royale, "she opened the door, and they said toher, 'Citoyenne, come down. '--'And my niece?'--'We shall take care of herafterwards. ' She embraced me, and to calm my agitation promised to return. 'No, citoyenne, ' said the men, 'bring your bonnet; you shall not return. 'They overwhelmed her with abuse, but she bore it patiently, embracing me, and exhorting me to trust in Heaven, and never to forget the last commandsof my father and mother. "

Madame Elisabeth was then taken to the Conciergerie, where she wasinterrogated by the vice-president at midnight, and then allowed to takesome hours rest on the bed on which Marie Antoinette had slept for thelast time. In the morning she was brought before the tribunal, withtwenty-four other prisoners, of varying ages and both sexes, some of whomhad once been frequently seen at Court. 

"Of what has Elisabeth to complain?" Fouquier-Tinville satirically asked. "At the foot of the guillotine, surrounded by faithful nobility, she mayimagine herself again at Versailles. "

"You call my brother a tyrant, " the Princess replied to her accuser; "ifhe had been what you say, you would not be where you are, nor I beforeyou!"

She was sentenced to death, and showed neither surprise nor grief. "I amready to die, " she said, "happy in the prospect of rejoining in a betterworld those whom I loved on earth. "

On being taken to the room where those condemned to suffer at the sametime as herself were assembled, she spoke to them with so much piety andresignation that they were encouraged by her example to show calmness andcourage like her own. The women, on leaving the cart, begged to embraceher, and she said some words of comfort to each in turn as they mountedthe scaffold, which she was not allowed to ascend till all her companionshad been executed before her eyes. 

[Madame Elisabeth was one of those rare personages only seen at distantintervals during the course of ages; she set an example of steadfast pietyin the palace of kings, she lived amid her family the favourite of all andthe admiration of the world . . . . When I went to Versailles MadameElisabeth was twenty-two years of age. Her plump figure and pretty pinkcolour must have attracted notice, and her air of calmness and contentmenteven more than her beauty. She was fond of billiards, and her elegance andcourage in riding were remarkable. But she never allowed these amusementsto interfere with her religious observances. At that time her wish totake the veil at St. Cyr was much talked of, but the King was too fond ofhis sister to endure the separation. There were also rumours of amarriage between Madame Elisabeth and the Emperor Joseph. The Queen wassincerely attached to her brother, and loved her sister-in-law mosttenderly; she ardently desired this marriage as a means of raising thePrincess to one of the first thrones in Europe, and as a possible means ofturning the Emperor from his innovations. She had been very carefullyeducated, had talent in music and painting, spoke Italian and a littleLatin, and understood mathematics. . . . Her last moments were worthy of hercourage and virtue. --D'HEZECQUES's "Recollections, " pp. 72-75. ]

"It is impossible to imagine my distress at finding myself separated frommy aunt, " says Madame Royale. "Since I had been able to appreciate hermerits, I saw in her nothing but religion, gentleness, meekness, modesty, and a devoted attachment to her family; she sacrificed her life for them, since nothing could persuade her to leave the King and Queen. I never canbe sufficiently grateful to her for her goodness to me, which ended onlywith her life. She looked on me as her child, and I honoured and lovedher as a second mother. I was thought to be very like her in countenance, and I feel conscious that I have something of her character. Would to GodI might imitate her virtues, and hope that I may hereafter deserve to meether, as well as my dear parents, in the bosom of our Creator, where Icannot doubt that they enjoy the reward of their virtuous lives andmeritorious deaths. "

Madame Royale vainly begged to be allowed to rejoin her mother or heraunt, or at least to know their fate. The municipal officers would tellher nothing, and rudely refused her request to have a woman placed withher. "I asked nothing but what seemed indispensable, though it was oftenharshly refused, " she says. "But I at least could keep myself clean. Ihad soap and water, and carefully swept out my room every day. I had nolight, but in the long days I did not feel this privation much . . . . I had some religious works and travels, which I had read over and over. Ihad also some knitting, 'qui m'ennuyait beaucoup'. " Once, she believes, Robespierre visited her prison:

[It has been said that Robespierre vainly tried to obtain the hand ofMademoiselle d'Orleans. It was also rumoured that Madame Royale herselfowed her life to his matrimonial ambition. ]

"The officers showed him great respect; the people in the Tower did notknow him, or at least would not tell me who he was. He stared insolentlyat me, glanced at my books, and, after joining the municipal officers in asearch, retired. "

[On another occasion "three men in scarfs, " who entered the Princess'sroom, told her that they did not see why she should wish to be released, as she seemed very comfortable! "It is dreadful, ' I replied, 'to beseparated for more than a year from one's mother, without even hearingwhat has become of her or of my aunt. '--'You are not ill?'--'No, monsieur, but the cruellest illness is that of the heart'--' We can do nothing foryou. Be patient, and submit to the justice and goodness of the Frenchpeople: I had nothing more to say. "--DUCHESSE D'ANGOULEME, "RoyalMemoirs, " p. 273. ]

When Laurent was appointed by the Convention to the charge of the youngprisoners, Madame Royale was treated with more consideration. "He wasalways courteous, " she says; he restored her tinderbox, gave her freshbooks, and allowed her candles and as much firewood as she wanted, "whichpleased me greatly. " This simple expression of relief gives a cleareridea of what the delicate girl must have suffered than a volume ofcomplaints. 

But however hard Madame Royale's lot might be, that of the Dauphin wasinfinitely harder. Though only eight years old when he entered theTemple, he was by nature and education extremely precocious; "his memoryretained everything, and his sensitiveness comprehended everything. " Hisfeatures "recalled the somewhat effeminate look of Louis XV. , and theAustrian hauteur of Maria Theresa; his blue eyes, aquiline nose, elevatednostrils, well-defined mouth, pouting lips, chestnut hair parted in themiddle and falling in thick curls on his shoulders, resembled his motherbefore her years of tears and torture. All the beauty of his race, byboth descents, seemed to reappear in him. "--[Lamartine]--For some time thecare of his parents preserved his health and cheerfulness even in theTemple; but his constitution was weakened by the fever recorded by hissister, and his gaolers were determined that he should never regainstrength. 

"What does the Convention intend to do with him?" asked Simon, when theinnocent victim was placed in his clutches. "Transport him?"

"No. "

"Kill him?"

"No. "

"Poison him?"

"No. "

"What, then?"

"Why, get rid of him. "

For such a purpose they could not have chosen their instruments better. "Simon and his wife, cut off all those fair locks that had been hisyouthful glory and his mother's pride. This worthy pair stripped him ofthe mourning he wore for his father; and as they did so, they called it'playing at the game of the spoiled king. ' They alternately induced himto commit excesses, and then half starved him. They beat him mercilessly;nor was the treatment by night less brutal than that by day. As soon asthe weary boy had sunk into his first profound sleep, they would loudlycall him by name, 'Capet! Capet!' Startled, nervous, bathed inperspiration, or sometimes trembling with cold, he would spring up, rushthrough the dark, and present himself at Simon's bedside, murmuring, tremblingly, 'I am here, citizen. '--'Come nearer; let me feel you. ' Hewould approach the bed as he was ordered, although he knew the treatmentthat awaited him. Simon would buffet him on the head, or kick him away, adding the remark, 'Get to bed again, wolfs cub; I only wanted to knowthat you were safe. ' On one of these occasions, when the child had fallenhalf stunned upon his own miserable couch, and lay there groaning andfaint with pain, Simon roared out with a laugh, 'Suppose you were king, Capet, what would you do to me?' The child thought of his father's dyingwords, and said, 'I would forgive you. '"--[THIERS]

The change in the young Prince's mode of life, and the cruelties andcaprices to which he was subjected, soon made him fall ill, says hissister. "Simon forced him to eat to excess, and to drink large quantitiesof wine, which he detested . . . . He grew extremely fat withoutincreasing in height or strength. " His aunt and sister, deprived of thepleasure of tending him, had the pain of hearing his childish voice raisedin the abominable songs his gaolers taught him. The brutality of Simon"depraved at once the body and soul of his pupil. He called him the youngwolf of the Temple. He treated him as the young of wild animals aretreated when taken from the mother and reduced to captivity, --at onceintimidated by blows and enervated by taming. He punished forsensibility; he rewarded meanness; he encouraged vice; he made the childwait on him at table, sometimes striking him on the face with a knottedtowel, sometimes raising the poker and threatening to strike him with it. "

[Simon left the Temple to become a municipal officer. He was involved inthe overthrow of Robespierre, and guillotined the day after him, 29thJuly, 1794. ]

Yet when Simon was removed the poor young Prince's condition became evenworse. His horrible loneliness induced an apathetic stupor to which anysuffering would have been preferable. "He passed his days without anykind of occupation; they did not allow him light in the evening. Hiskeepers never approached him but to give him food;" and on the rareoccasions when they took him to the platform of the Tower, he was unableor unwilling to move about. When, in November, 1794, a commissary namedGomin arrived at the Temple, disposed to treat the little prisoner withkindness, it was too late. "He took extreme care of my brother, " saysMadame Royale. "For a long time the unhappy child had been shut up indarkness, and he was dying of fright. He was very grateful for theattentions of Gomin, and became much attached to him. " But his physicalcondition was alarming, and, owing to Gomin's representations, acommission was instituted to examine him. "The commissioners appointedwere Harmond, Mathieu, and Reverchon, who visited 'Louis Charles, ' as hewas now called, in the month of February, 1795. They found the youngPrince seated at a square deal table, at which he was playing with somedirty cards, making card houses and the like, --the materials having beenfurnished him, probably, that they might figure in the report as evidencesof indulgence. He did not look up from the table as the commissionersentered. He was in a slate-coloured dress, bareheaded; the room wasreported as clean, the bed in good condition, the linen fresh; his clotheswere also reported as new; but, in spite of all these assertions, it iswell known that his bed had not been made for months, that he had not lefthis room, nor was permitted to leave it, for any purpose whatever, that itwas consequently uninhabitable, and that he was covered with vermin andwith sores. The swellings at his knees alone were sufficient to disablehim from walking. One of the commissioners approached the young Princerespectfully. The latter did not raise his head. Harmond in a kind voicebegged him to speak to them. The eyes of the boy remained fixed on thetable before him. They told him of the kindly intentions of theGovernment, of their hopes that he would yet be happy, and their desirethat he would speak unreservedly to the medical man that was to visit him. He seemed to listen with profound attention, but not a single word passedhis lips. It was an heroic principle that impelled that poor young heartto maintain the silence of a mute in presence of these men. He rememberedtoo well the days when three other commissaries waited on him, regaled himwith pastry and wine, and obtained from him that hellish accusationagainst the mother that he loved. He had learnt by some means the importof the act, so far as it was an injury to his mother. He now dreadedseeing again three commissaries, hearing again kind words, and beingtreated again with fine promises. Dumb as death itself he sat beforethem, and remained motionless as stone, and as mute. " [THIERS]

His disease now made rapid progress, and Gomin and Lasne, superintendentsof the Temple, thinking it necessary to inform the Government of themelancholy condition of their prisoner, wrote on the register: "LittleCapet is unwell. " No notice was taken of this account, which was renewednext day in more urgent terms: "Little Capet is dangerously ill. " Stillthere was no word from beyond the walls. "We must knock harder, " said thekeepers to each other, and they added, "It is feared he will not live, " tothe words "dangerously ill. " At length, on Wednesday, 6th May, 1795, three days after the first report, the authorities appointed M. Desault togive the invalid the assistance of his art. After having written down hisname on the register he was admitted to see the Prince. He made a long andvery attentive examination of the unfortunate child, asked him manyquestions without being able to obtain an answer, and contented himselfwith prescribing a decoction of hops, to be taken by spoonfuls everyhalf-hour, from six o'clock in the morning till eight in the evening. Onthe first day the Prince steadily refused to take it. In vain Gominseveral times drank off a glass of the potion in his presence; his exampleproved as ineffectual as his words. Next day Lasne renewed hissolicitations. "Monsieur knows very well that I desire nothing but thegood of his health, and he distresses me deeply by thus refusing to takewhat might contribute to it. I entreat him as a favour not to give methis cause of grief. " And as Lasne, while speaking, began to taste thepotion in a glass, the child took what he offered him out of his hands. "You have, then, taken an oath that I should drink it, " said he, firmly;"well, give it me, I will drink it. " From that moment he conformed withdocility to whatever was required of him, but the policy of the Communehad attained its object; help had been withheld till it was almost amockery to supply it. 

The Prince's weakness was excessive; his keepers could scarcely drag himto the, top of the Tower; walking hurt his tender feet, and at every stephe stopped to press the arm of Lasne with both hands upon his breast. Atlast he suffered so much that it was no longer possible for him to walk, and his keeper carried him about, sometimes on the platform, and sometimesin the little tower, where the royal family had lived at first. But theslight improvement to his health occasioned by the change of air scarcelycompensated for the pain which his fatigue gave him. On the battlement ofthe platform nearest the left turret, the rain had, by perseverancethrough ages, hollowed out a kind of basin. The water that fell remainedthere for several days; and as, during the spring of 1795, storms were offrequent occurrence, this little sheet of water was kept constantlysupplied. Whenever the child was brought out upon the platform, he saw alittle troop of sparrows, which used to come to drink and bathe in thisreservoir. At first they flew away at his approach, but from beingaccustomed to see him walking quietly there every day, they at last grewmore familiar, and did not spread their wings for flight till he came upclose to them. They were always the same, he knew them by sight, andperhaps like himself they were inhabitants of that ancient pile. Hecalled them his birds; and his first action, when the door into theterrace was opened, was to look towards that side, --and the sparrows werealways there. He delighted in their chirping, and he must have enviedthem their wings. 

Though so little could be done to alleviate his sufferings, a moralimprovement was taking place in him. He was touched by the livelyinterest displayed by his physician, who never failed to visit him at nineo'clock every morning. He seemed pleased with the attention paid him, andended by placing entire confidence in M. Desault. Gratitude loosened histongue; brutality and insult had failed to extort a murmur, but kindtreatment restored his speech he had no words for anger, but he found themto express his thanks. M. Desault prolonged his visits as long as theofficers of the municipality would permit. When they announced the closeof the visit, the child, unwilling to beg them to allow a longer time, held back M. Desault by the skirt of his coat. Suddenly M. Desault'svisits ceased. Several days passed and nothing was heard of him. Thekeepers wondered at his absence, and the poor little invalid was muchdistressed at it. The commissary on duty (M. Benoist) suggested that itwould be proper to send to the physician's house to make inquiries as tothe cause of so long an absence. Gomin and Larne had not yet ventured tofollow this advice, when next day M. Benoist was relieved by M. Bidault, who, hearing M. Desault's name mentioned as he came in, immediately said, "You must not expect to see him any more; he died yesterday. "

M. Pelletan, head surgeon of the Grand Hospice de l'Humanite, was nextdirected to attend the prisoner, and in June he found him in so alarming astate that he at once asked for a coadjutor, fearing to undertake theresponsibility alone. The physician--sent for form's sake to attend thedying child, as an advocate is given by law to a criminal condemnedbeforehand--blamed the officers of the municipality for not having removedthe blind, which obstructed the light, and the numerous bolts, the noiseof which never failed to remind the victim of his captivity. That sound, which always caused him an involuntary shudder, disturbed him in the lastmournful scene of his unparalleled tortures. M. Pelletan saidauthoritatively to the municipal on duty, "If you will not take thesebolts and casings away at once, at least you can make no objection to ourcarrying the child into another room, for I suppose we are sent here totake charge of him. " The Prince, being disturbed by these words, spokenas they were with great animation, made a sign to the physician to comenearer. "Speak lower, I beg of you, " said he; "I am afraid they will hearyou up-stairs, and I should be very sorry for them to know that I am ill, as it would give them much uneasiness. "

At first the change to a cheerful and airy room revived the Prince andgave him evident pleasure, but the improvement did not last. Next day M. Pelletan learned that the Government had acceded to his request for acolleague. M. Dumangin, head physician of the Hospice de l'Unite, madehis appearance at his house on the morning of Sunday, 7th June, with theofficial despatch sent him by the committee of public safety. Theyrepaired together immediately to the Tower. On their arrival they heardthat the child, whose weakness was excessive, had had a fainting fit, which had occasioned fears to be entertained that his end was approaching. He had revived a little, however, when the physicians went up at aboutnine o'clock. Unable to contend with increasing exhaustion, theyperceived there was no longer any hope of prolonging an existence worn outby so much suffering, and that all their art could effect would be tosoften the last stage of this lamentable disease. While standing by thePrince's bed, Gomin noticed that he was quietly crying, and asked him. Kindly what was the matter. "I am always alone, " he said. "My dearmother remains in the other tower. " Night came, --his last night, --whichthe regulations of the prison condemned him to pass once more in solitude, with suffering, his old companion, only at his side. This time, however, death, too, stood at his pillow. When Gomin went up to the child's roomon the morning of 8th June, he said, seeing him calm, motionless, andmute:

"I hope you are not in pain just now?"

"Oh, yes, I am still in pain, but not nearly so much, --the music is sobeautiful!"

Now there was no music to be heard, either in the Tower or anywhere near. 

Gomin, astonished, said to him, "From what direction do you hear thismusic?"

"From above!"

"Have you heard it long?"

"Since you knelt down. Do you not hear it? Listen! Listen!" And thechild, with a nervous motion, raised his faltering hand, as he opened hislarge eyes illuminated by delight. His poor keeper, unwilling to destroythis last sweet illusion, appeared to listen also. 

After a few minutes of attention the child again started, and cried out, in intense rapture, "Amongst all the voices I have distinguished that ofmy mother!"

These were almost his last words. At a quarter past two he died, Lasneonly being in the room at the time. Lasne acquainted Gomin and Damont, the commissary on duty, with the event, and they repaired to the chamberof death. The poor little royal corpse was carried from the room intothat where he had suffered so long, --where for two years he had neverceased to suffer. From this apartment the father had gone to thescaffold, and thence the son must pass to the burial-ground. The remainswere laid out on the bed, and the doors of the apartment were setopen, --doors which had remained closed ever since the Revolution hadseized on a child, then full of vigour and grace and life and health!

At eight o'clock next morning (9th June) four members of the committee ofgeneral safety came to the Tower to make sure that the Prince was reallydead. When they were admitted to the death-chamber by Lasne and Damontthey affected the greatest indifference. "The event is not of the leastimportance, " they repeated, several times over; "the police commissary ofthe section will come and receive the declaration of the decease; he willacknowledge it, and proceed to the interment without any ceremony; and thecommittee will give the necessary directions. " As they withdrew, someofficers of the Temple guard asked to see the remains of little Capet. Damont having observed that the guard would not permit the bier to passwithout its being opened, the deputies decided that the officers andnon-commissioned officers of the guard going off duty, together with thosecoming on, should be all invited to assure themselves of the child'sdeath. All having assembled in the room where the body lay, he asked themif they recognised it as that of the ex-Dauphin, son of the last King ofFrance. Those who had seen the young Prince at the Tuileries, or at theTemple (and most of them had), bore witness to its being the body of LouisXVII. When they were come down into the council-room, Darlot drew up theminutes of this attestation, which was signed by a score of persons. These minutes were inserted in the journal of the Temple tower, which wasafterwards deposited in the office of the Minister of the Interior. 

During this visit the surgeons entrusted with the autopsy arrived at theouter gate of the Temple. These were Dumangin, head physician of theHospice de l'Unite; Pelletan, head surgeon of the Grand Hospice del'Humanite; Jeanroy, professor in the medical schools of Paris; andLaasus, professor of legal medicine at the Ecole de Sante of Paris. Thelast two were selected by Dumangin and Pelletan because of the formerconnection of M. Lassus with Mesdames de France, and of M. Jeanroy withthe House of Lorraine, which gave a peculiar weight to their signatures. Gomin received them in the council-room, and detained them until theNational Guard, descending from the second floor, entered to sign theminutes prepared by Darlot. This done, Lasne, Darlot, and Bouquet went upagain with the surgeons, and introduced them into the apartment of LouisXVII. , whom they at first examined as he lay on his death-bed; but M. Jeanroy observing that the dim light of this room was but littlefavourable to the accomplishment of their mission, the commissariesprepared a table in the first room, near the window, on which the corpsewas laid, and the surgeons began their melancholy operation. 

At seven o'clock the police commissary ordered the body to be taken up, and that they should proceed to the cemetery. It was the season of thelongest days, and therefore the interment did not take place in secrecyand at night, as some misinformed narrators have said or written; it tookplace in broad daylight, and attracted a great concourse of people beforethe gates of the Temple palace. One of the municipals wished to have thecoffin carried out secretly by the door opening into the chapel enclosure;but M. Duaser, police commiasary, who was specially entrusted with thearrangement of the ceremony, opposed this indecorous measure, and theprocession passed out through the great gate. The crowd that was pressinground was kept back, and compelled to keep a line, by a tricolouredribbon, held at short distances by gendarmes. Compassion and sorrow wereimpressed on every countenance. 

A small detachment of the troops of the line from the garrison of Paris, sent by the authorities, was waiting to serve as an escort. The bier, still covered with the pall, was carried on a litter on the shoulders offour men, who relieved each other two at a time; it was preceded by six oreight men, headed by a sergeant. The procession was accompanied a longway by the crowd, and a great number of persona followed it even to thecemetery. The name of "Little Capet, " and the more popular title ofDauphin, spread from lip to lip, with exclamations of pity and compassion. The funeral entered the cemetery of Ste. Marguerite, not by the church, assome accounts assert, but by the old gate of the cemetery. The intermentwas made in the corner, on the left, at a distance of eight or nine feetfrom the enclosure wall, and at an equal distance from a small house, which subsequently served as a school. The grave was filled up, --no moundmarked its place, and not even a trace remained of the interment! Nottill then did the commissaries of police and the municipality withdraw, and enter the house opposite the church to draw up the declaration ofinterment. It was nearly nine o'clock, and still daylight. 

Release of Madame Royale. --Her Marriage to the Duc d'Angouleme. --Return to France. --Death. 

The last person to hear of the sad events in the Temple was the one forwhom they had the deepest and most painful interest. After her brother'sdeath the captivity of Madame Royale was much lightened. She was allowedto walk in the Temple gardens, and to receive visits from some ladies ofthe old Court, and from Madame de Chantereine, who at last, after severaltimes evading her questions, ventured cautiously to tell her of the deathsof her mother, aunt, and brother. Madame Royale wept bitterly, but hadmuch difficulty in expressing her feelings. "She spoke so confusedly, "says Madame de la Ramiere in a letter to Madame de Verneuil, "that it wasdifficult to understand her. It took her more than a month's readingaloud, with careful study of pronunciation, to make herselfintelligible, --so much had she lost the power of expression. " She wasdressed with plainness amounting to poverty, and her hands were disfiguredby exposure to cold and by the menial work she had been so long accustomedto do for herself, and which it was difficult to persuade her to leaveoff. When urged to accept the services of an attendant, she replied, witha sad prevision of the vicissitudes of her future life, that she did notlike to form a habit which she might have again to abandon. She sufferedherself, however, to be persuaded gradually to modify her recluse andascetic habits. It was well she did so, as a preparation for the greatchanges about to follow. 

Nine days after the death of her brother, the city of Orleans intercededfor the daughter of Louis XVI. , and sent deputies to the Convention topray for her deliverance and restoration to her family. Names followedthis example; and Charette, on the part of the Vendeans, demanded, as acondition of the pacification of La Vendee, that the Princess should beallowed to join her relations. At length the Convention decreed thatMadame Royale should be exchanged with Austria for the representatives andministers whom Dumouriez had given up to the Prince of Cobourg, --Drouet, Semonville, Maret, and other prisoners of importance. At midnight on 19thDecember, 1795, which was her birthday, the Princess was released fromprison, the Minister of the Interior, M. Benezech, to avoid attractingpublic attention and possible disturbance, conducting her on foot from theTemple to a neighbouring street, where his carriage awaited her. She madeit her particular request that Gomin, who had been so devoted to herbrother, should be the commissary appointed to accompany her to thefrontier; Madame de Soucy, formerly under-governess to the children ofFrance, was also in attendance; and the Princess took with her a dog namedCoco, which had belonged to Louis XVI. 

[The mention of the little dog taken from the Temple by Madame Royalereminds me how fond all the family were of these creatures. Each Princesskept a different kind. Mesdames had beautiful spaniels; little grayhoundswere preferred by Madame Elisabeth. Louis XVI. Was the only one of all hisfamily who had no dogs in his room. I remember one day waiting in thegreat gallery for the King's retiring, when he entered with all his familyand the whole pack, who were escorting him. All at once all the dogsbegan to bark, one louder than another, and ran away, passing like ghostsalong those great dark rooms, which rang with their hoarse cries. ThePrincesses shouting, calling them, running everywhere after them, completed a ridiculous spectacle, which made those august persons verymerry. --D'HEZECQUES, p. 49. ]

She was frequently recognised on her way through France, and always withmarks of pleasure and respect. 

It might have been supposed that the Princess would rejoice to leavebehind her the country which had been the scene of so many horrors andsuch bitter suffering. But it was her birthplace, and it held the gravesof all she loved; and as she crossed the frontier she said to those aroundher, "I leave France with regret, for I shall never cease to consider itmy country. " She arrived in Vienna on 9th January, 1796, and her firstcare was to attend a memorial service for her murdered relatives. Aftermany weeks of close retirement she occasionally began to appear in public, and people looked with interest at the pale, grave, slender girl ofseventeen, dressed in the deepest mourning, over whose young head suchterrible storms had swept. The Emperor wished her to marry the ArchdukeCharles of Austria, but her father and mother had, even in the cradle, destined her hand for her cousin, the Duc d'Angouleme, son of the Comted'Artois, and the memory of their lightest wish was law to her. 

Her quiet determination entailed anger and opposition amounting topersecution. Every effort was made to alienate her from her Frenchrelations. She was urged to claim Provence, which had become her own ifLouis XVIII. Was to be considered King of France. A pressure of opinionwas brought to bear upon her which might well have overawed so young agirl. "I was sent for to the Emperor's cabinet, " she writes, "where Ifound the imperial family assembled. The ministers and chief imperialcounsellors were also present . . . . When the Emperor invited me toexpress my opinion, I answered that to be able to treat fittingly of suchinterests I thought, I ought to be surrounded not only by my mother'srelatives, but also by those of my father . . . . Besides, I said, Iwas above all things French, and in entire subjection to the laws ofFrance, which had rendered me alternately the subject of the King myfather, the King my brother, and the King my uncle, and that I would yieldobedience to the latter, whatever might be his commands. This declarationappeared very much to dissatisfy all who were present, and when theyobserved that I was not to be shaken, they declared that my right beingindependent of my will, my resistance would not be the slightest obstacleto the measures they might deem it necessary to adopt for the preservationof my interests. "

In their anxiety to make a German princess of Marie Therese, her imperialrelations suppressed her French title as much as possible. When, withsome difficulty, the Duc de Grammont succeeded in obtaining an audience ofher, and used the familiar form of address, she smiled faintly, and badehim beware. "Call me Madame de Bretagne, or de Bourgogne, or deLorraine, " she said, "for here I am so identified with theseprovinces--[which the Emperor wished her to claim from her uncle LouisXVIII. ]--that I shall end in believing in my own transformation. " Afterthese discussions she was so closely watched, and so many restraints wereimposed upon her, that she was scarcely less a prisoner than in the olddays of the Temple, though her cage was this time gilded. Rescue, however, was at hand. 

In 1798 Louis XVIII. Accepted a refuge offered to him at Mittau by theCzar Paul, who had promised that he would grant his guest's first request, whatever it might be. Louis begged the Czar to use his influence with theCourt of Vienna to allow his niece to join him. "Monsieur, my brother, "was Paul's answer, "Madame Royale shall be restored to you, or I shallcease to be Paul I. " Next morning the Czar despatched a courier to Viennawith a demand for the Princess, so energetically worded that refusal musthave been followed by war. Accordingly, in May, 1799, Madame Royale wasallowed to leave the capital which she had found so uncongenial an asylum. 

In the old ducal castle of Mittau, the capital of Courland, Louis XVIII. And his wife, with their nephews, the Ducs d'Angouleme and de Berri, were awaiting her, attended by the Abbe Edgeworth, as chiefecclesiastic, and a little Court of refugee nobles and officers. 

[The Duc d'Angonleme was quiet and reserved. He loved hunting as means ofkilling time; was given to early hours and innocent pleasures. He was agentleman, and brave as became one. He had not the "gentlemanly vices" ofhis brother, and was all the better for it. He was ill educated, but hadnatural good sense, and would have passed for having more than that had hecared to put forth pretensions. Of all his family he was the one most illspoken of, and least deserving of it. --DOCTOR DORAN. ]

With them were two men of humbler position, who must have been even morewelcome to Madame Royale, --De Malden, who had acted as courier to LouisXVI. During the flight to Varennes, and Turgi, who had waited on thePrincesses in the Temple. It was a sad meeting, though so long anxiouslydesired, and it was followed on 10th June, 1799, by an equally sadwedding, --exiles, pensioners on the bounty of the Russian monarch, fulfilling an engagement founded, not on personal preference, but onfamily policy and reverence for the wishes of the dead, the bride andbridegroom had small cause for rejoicing. During the eighteen months oftranquil seclusion which followed her marriage, the favourite occupationof the Duchess was visiting and relieving the poor. In January, 1801, theCzar Paul, in compliance with the demand of Napoleon, who was just thenthe object of his capricious enthusiasm, ordered the French royal familyto leave Mittau. Their wanderings commenced on the 21st, a day of bittermemories; and the young Duchess led the King to his carriage through acrowd of men, women, and children, whose tears and blessings attended themon their way. 

[The Queen was too ill to travel. The Duc d'Angouleme took another routeto join a body of French gentlemen in arms for the Legitimist cause. ]

The exiles asked permission from the King of Prussia to settle in hisdominions, and while awaiting his answer at Munich they were painfullysurprised by the entrance of five old soldiers of noble birth, part of thebody-guard they had left behind at Mittau, relying on the protection ofPaul. The "mad Czar" had decreed their immediate expulsion, and, penniless and almost starving, they made their way to Louis XVIII. Allthe money the royal family possessed was bestowed on these faithfulservants, who came to them in detachments for relief, and then the Duchessoffered her diamonds to the Danish consul for an advance of two thousandducats, saying she pledged her property "that in our common distress itmay be rendered of real use to my uncle, his faithful servants, andmyself. " The Duchess's consistent and unselfish kindness procured herfrom the King, and those about him who knew her best, the name of "ourangel. "

Warsaw was for a brief time the resting-place of the wanderers, but therethey were disturbed in 1803 by Napoleon's attempt to threaten and bribeLouis XVIII. Into abdication. It was suggested that refusal might bringupon them expulsion from Prussia. "We are accustomed to suffering, " wasthe King's answer, "and we do not dread poverty. I would, trusting inGod, seek another asylum. " In 1808, after many changes of scene, thisasylum was sought in England, Gosfield Hall, Essex, being placed at theirdisposal by the Marquis of Buckingham. From Gosfield, the King moved toHartwell Hall, a fine old Elizabethan mansion rented from Sir George Leefor L 500 a year. A yearly grant of L 24, 000 was made to the exiledfamily by the British Government, out of which a hundred and forty personswere supported, the royal dinner-party generally numbering two dozen. 

At Hartwell, as in her other homes, the Duchess was most popular amongstthe poor. In general society she was cold and reserved, and she dislikedthe notice of strangers. In March, 1814, the royalist successes atBordeaux paved the way for the restoration of royalty in France, andamidst general sympathy and congratulation, with the Prince Regent himselfto wish them good fortune, the King, the Duchess, and their suite leftHartwell in April, 1814. The return to France was as triumphant as asomewhat half-hearted and doubtful enthusiasm could make it, and most ofsuch cordiality as there was fell to the share of the Duchess. As shepassed to Notre-Dame in May, 1814, on entering Paris, she was vociferouslygreeted. The feeling of loyalty, however, was not much longer-lived thanthe applause by which it was expressed; the Duchess had scarcely effectedone of the strongest wishes of her heart, --the identification of whatremained of her parents' bodies, and the magnificent ceremony with whichthey were removed from the cemetery of the Madeleine to the Abbey of St. Denis, --when the escape of Napoleon from Elba in February, 1815, scatteredthe royal family and their followers like chaff before the wind. The Ducd'Angouleme, compelled to capitulate at Toulouse, sailed from Cette in aSwedish vessel. The Comte d'Artois, the Duc de Berri, and the Prince deConde withdrew beyond the frontier. The King fled from the capital. TheDuchesse d'Angouleme, then at Bordeaux celebrating the anniversary of theProclamation of Louis XVIII. , alone of all her family made any standagainst the general panic. Day after day she mounted her horse andreviewed the National Guard. She made personal and even passionateappeals to the officers and men, standing firm, and prevailing on ahandful of soldiers to remain by her, even when the imperialist troopswere on the other side of the river and their cannon were directed againstthe square where the Duchess was reviewing her scanty followers. 

["It was the Duchesse d'Angouleme who saved you, " said the gallant GeneralClauzel, after these events, to a royalist volunteer; "I could not bringmyself to order such a woman to be fired upon, at the moment when she wasproviding material for the noblest page in her history. "--"FilliaDolorosa, " vol. Vii. , p. 131. ]

With pain and difficulty she was convinced that resistance was vain;Napoleon's banner soon floated over Bordeaux; the Duchess issued afarewell proclamation to her "brave Bordelais, " and on the 1st April, 1815, she started for Pouillac, whence she embarked for Spain. During abrief visit to England she heard that the reign of a hundred days wasover, and the 27th of July, 1815, saw her second triumphal return to theTuileries. She did not take up her abode there with any wish for Stateceremonies or Court gaieties. Her life was as secluded as her positionwould allow. Her favourite retreat was the Pavilion, which had beeninhabited by her mother, and in her little oratory she collected relics ofher family, over which on the anniversaries of their deaths she wept andprayed. In her daily drives through Paris she scrupulously avoided thespot on which they had suffered; and the memory of the past seemed to ruleall her sad and self-denying life, both in what she did and what sherefrained from doing. 

[She was so methodical and economical, though liberal in her charities, that one of her regular evening occupations was to tear off the seals fromthe letters she had received during the day, in order that the wax mightbe melted down and sold; the produce made one poor family "passing richwith forty pounds a year. "--See "Filia Dolorosa, " vol. Ii. , p. 239. ]

Her somewhat austere goodness was not of a nature to make her popular. Thefew who really understood her loved her, but the majority of herpleasure-seeking subjects regarded her either with ridicule or dread. Sheis said to have taken no part in politics, and to have exerted noinfluence in public affairs, but her sympathies were well known, and "thevery word liberty made her shudder;" like Madame Roland, she had seen "somany crimes perpetrated under that name. "

The claims of three pretended Dauphins--Hervagault, the son of the tailorof St. Lo; Bruneau, son of the shoemaker of Vergin; and Naundorf orNorndorff, the watchmaker somewhat troubled her peace, but never for amoment obtained her sanction. Of the many other pseudo-Dauphins (said tonumber a dozen and a half) not even the names remain. In February, 1820, afresh tragedy befell the royal family in the assassination of the Duc deBerri, brother-in-law of the Duchesse d'Angouleme, as he was seeing hiswife into her carriage at the door of the Opera-house. He was carriedinto the theatre, and there the dying Prince and his wife were joined bythe Duchess, who remained till he breathed his last, and was present whenhe, too, was laid in the Abbey of St. Denis. She was present also whenhis son, the Duc de Bordeaux, was born, and hoped that she saw in him aguarantee for the stability of royalty in France. In September, 1824, shestood by the death-bed of Louis XVIII. , and thenceforward her chiefoccupation was directing the education of the little Duc de Bordeaux, whogenerally resided with her at Villeneuve l'Etang, her country house nearSt. Cloud. Thence she went in July, 1830, to the Baths of Vichy, stopping at Dijon on her way to Paris, and visiting the theatre on theevening of the 27th. She was received with "a roar of execrations andseditious cries, " and knew only too well what they signified. Sheinstantly left the theatre and proceeded to Tonnere, where she receivednews of the rising in Paris, and, quitting the town by night, was drivento Joigny with three attendants. Soon after leaving that place it wasthought more prudent that the party should separate and proceed on foot, and the Duchess and M. De Foucigny, disguised as peasants, enteredVersailles arm-in-arm, to obtain tidings of the King. The Duchess foundhim at Rambouillet with her husband, the Dauphin, and the King met herwith a request for "pardon, " being fully conscious, too late, that hisunwise decrees and his headlong flight had destroyed the last hopes of hisfamily. The act of abdication followed, by which the prospect of royaltypassed from the Dauphin and his wife, as well as from Charles X. --Henri V. Being proclaimed King, and the Duc d'Orleans (who refused to take the boymonarch under his personal protection) lieutenant-general of the kingdom. 

Then began the Duchess's third expatriation. At Cherbourg the royalfamily, accompanied by the little King without a kingdom, embarked in the'Great Britain', which stood out to sea. The Duchess, remaining on deckfor a last look at the coast of France, noticed a brig which kept, shethought, suspiciously near them. 

"Who commands that vessel?" she inquired. 

"Captain Thibault. "

And what are his orders?"

"To fire into and sink the vessels in which we sail, should any attempt bemade to return to France. "

Such was the farewell of their subjects to the House of Bourbon. Thefugitives landed at Weymouth; the Duchesse d'Angouleme under the title ofComtesse de Marne, the Duchesse de Berri as Comtesse de Rosny, and herson, Henri de Bordeaux, as Comte de Chambord, the title he retained tillhis death, originally taken from the estate presented to him in infancy byhis enthusiastic people. Holyrood, with its royal and gloomyassociations, was their appointed dwelling. The Duc and Duchessed'Angouleme, and the daughter of the Duc de Berri, travelled thither byland, the King and the young Comte de Chambord by sea. "I prefer my routeto that of my sister, " observed the latter, "because I shall see the coastof France again, and she will not. "

The French Government soon complained that at Holyrood the exiles werestill too near their native land, and accordingly, in 1832, Charles X. , with his son and grandson, left Scotland for Hamburg, while the Duchessed'Angouleme and her niece repaired to Vienna. The family were reunited atPrague in 1833, where the birthday of the Comte de Chambord was celebratedwith some pomp and rejoicing, many Legitimists flocking thither tocongratulate him on attaining the age of thirteen, which the old law ofmonarchical France had fixed as the majority of her princes. Three yearslater the wanderings of the unfortunate family recommenced; the EmperorFrancis II. Was dead, and his successor, Ferdinand, must visit Prague tobe crowned, and Charles X. Feared that the presence of a discrownedmonarch might be embarrassing on such an occasion. Illness and sorrowattended the exiles on their new journey, and a few months after they wereestablished in the Chateau of Graffenburg at Goritz, Charles X. Died ofcholera, in his eightieth year. At Goritz, also, on the 31st May, 1844, the Duchesse d'Angouleme, who had sat beside so many death-beds, watchedover that of her husband. Theirs had not been a marriage of affection inyouth, but they respected each other's virtues, and to a great extentshared each other's tastes; banishment and suffering had united them veryclosely, and of late years they had been almost inseparable, --walking, riding, and reading together. When the Duchesse d'Angouleme had seen herhusband laid by his father's side in the vault of the Franciscan convent, she, accompanied by her nephew and niece, removed to Frohsdorf, where theyspent seven tranquil years. Here she was addressed as "Queen" by herhousehold for the first time in her life, but she herself alwaysrecognised Henri, Comte de Chambord, as her sovereign. The Duchess livedto see the overthrow of Louis Philippe, the usurper of the inheritance ofher family. Her last attempt to exert herself was a characteristic one. She tried to rise from a sick-bed in order to attend the memorial serviceheld for her mother, Marie Antoinette, on the 16th October, theanniversary of her execution. But her strength was not equal to the task;on the 19th she expired, with her hand in that of the Comte de Chambord, and on 28th October, 1851, Marie Therese Charlotte, Duchesse d'Angouleme, was buried in the Franciscan convent. 

The Ceremony of Expiation. 

"In the spring of 1814 a ceremony took place in Paris at which I waspresent because there was nothing in it that could be mortifying to aFrench heart. The death of Louis XVI. Had long been admitted to be one ofthe most serious misfortunes of the Revolution. The Emperor Napoleonnever spoke of that sovereign but in terms of the highest respect, andalways prefixed the epithet unfortunate to his name. The ceremony towhich I allude was proposed by the Emperor of Russia and the King ofPrussia. It consisted of a kind of expiation and purification of the spoton which Louis XVI. And his Queen were beheaded. I went to see theceremony, and I had a place at a window in the Hotel of Madame de Remusat, next to the Hotel de Crillon, and what was termed the Hotel de Courlande. 

"The expiation took place on the 10th of April. The weather was extremelyfine and warm for the season. The Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia, accompanied by Prince Schwartzenberg, took their station at the entranceof the Rue Royale; the King of Prussia being on the right of the EmperorAlexander, and Prince Schwartzenberg on his left. There was a longparade, during which the Russian, Prussian and Austrian military bandsvied with each other in playing the air, 'Vive Henri IV. !' The cavalrydefiled past, and then withdrew into the Champs Elysees; but the infantryranged themselves round an altar which was raised in the middle of thePlace, and which was elevated on a platform having twelve or fifteensteps. The Emperor of Russia alighted from his horse, and, followed bythe King of Prussia, the Grand Duke Constantine, Lord Cathcart, and PrinceSchwartzenberg, advanced to the altar. When the Emperor had nearlyreached the altar the "Te Deum" commenced. At the moment of thebenediction, the sovereigns and persons who accompanied them, as well asthe twenty-five thousand troops who covered the Place, all knelt down. The Greek priest presented the cross to the Emperor Alexander, who kissedit; his example was followed by the individuals who accompanied him, though they were not of the Greek faith. On rising, the Grand DukeConstantine took off his hat, and immediately salvoes of artillery wereheard. "

NOTE. 

The following titles have the signification given below during the periodcovered by this work:

MONSEIGNEUR. . . . . . . . . . . The Dauphin. 

MONSIEUR. . . . . . . . . . . . . . The eldest brother of the King, Comte de Provence, afterwards Louis XVIII. 

MONSIEUR LE PRINCE. . . . The Prince de Conde, head of the House of Conde. 

MONSIEUR LE DUC. . . . . . . The Duc de Bourbon, the eldest son of the Prince deCondo (and the father of the Duc d'Enghien shot by Napoleon). 

MONSIEUR LE GRAND. . . . . The Grand Equerry under the ancien regime. 

MONSIEUR LE PREMIER. . . The First Equerry under the ancien regime. 

ENFANS DE FRANCE. . . . . . The royal children. 

MADAME & MESDAMES. . . . . Sisters or daughters of the King, or Princessesnear the Throne (sometimes used also for the wife of Monsieur, the eldestbrother of the King, the Princesses Adelaide, Victoire, Sophie, Louise, daughters of Louis XV. , and aunts of Louis XVI. )

MADAME ELISABETH. . . . . . The Princesse Elisabeth, sister of Louis XVI. 

MADAME ROYALE. . . . . . . . . The Princesse Marie Therese, daughter of LouisXVI. , afterwards Duchesse d'Angouleme. 

MADEMOISELLE. . . . . . . . . . The daughter of Monsieur, the brother of the King. 

THE ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A man born solely to contradictAdvised the King not to separate himself from his armyAh, Madame, we have all been killed in our masters' service!Alas! her griefs double mine!Allowed her candles and as much firewood as she wantedBetter to die than to implicate anybodyBrought me her daughter Hortense de BeauharnaisCarried the idea of the prerogative of rank to a high pitchCommon and blamable practice of indulgenceCondescension which renders approbation more offensiveCustoms are nearly equal to lawsDifference between brilliant theories and the simplest practiceDignified tone which alone secures the respect due to powerDisplaying her acquirements with rather too much confidenceDuc d'Orleans, when called on to give his vote for death of KingElegant entertainments were given to Doctor FranklinEtiquette still existed at Court, dignity alone was wantingExtreme simplicity was the Queens first and only real mistakeFashion of wearing a black coat without being in mourningFavourite of a queen is not, in France, a happy oneFormed rather to endure calamity with patience than to contendGrand-Dieu, mamma! will it be yesterday over again?Happiness does not dwell in palacesHe is afraid to commandHis ruin was resolved on; they passed to the order of the dayHis seraglio in the Parc-aux-CerfsHistory of the man with the iron maskHow can I have any regret when I partake your misfortunesI hate all that savours of fanaticismI do not like these rhapsodiesI love the conveniences of life too wellIf ever I establish a republic of women. . . . Indulge in the pleasure of vice and assume the credit of virtueKing (gave) the fatal order to the Swiss to cease firingLa Fayette to rescue the royal family and convey them to RouenLeave me in peace; be assured that I can put no heir in dangerLouis Philippe, the usurper of the inheritance of her familyMirabeau forgot that it was more easy to do harm than goodMost intriguing little Carmelite in the kingdomMy father fortunately found a library which amused himNever shall a drop of French blood be shed by my orderNo one is more dangerous than a man clothed with recent authorityNo accounting for the caprices of a womanNo ears that will discover when she (The Princess) is out of tuneNone but little minds dreaded little booksObserve the least pretension on account of the rank or fortuneOf course I shall be either hissed or applauded. On domestic management depends the preservation of their fortunePrevent disorder from organising itselfPrinces thus accustomed to be treated as divinitiesPrincess at 12 years was not mistress of the whole alphabetRabble, always ready to insult genius, virtue, and misfortuneSaw no other advantage in it than that of saving her own lifeShe often carried her economy to a degree of parsimonyShocking to find so little a man in the son of the MarechalShun all kinds of confidenceSimplicity of the Queen's toilet began to be strongly censuredSo many crimes perpetrated under that name (liberty)Spirit of party can degrade the character of a nationSubjecting the vanquished to be tried by the conquerorsTaken pains only to render himself beloved by his pupilTastes may changeThat air of truth which always carries convictionThe author (Beaumarchais) was sent to prison soon afterwardsThe Jesuits were suppressedThe three ministers, more ambitious than amorousThe charge of extravaganceThe emigrant party have their intrigues and schemesThe King delighted to manage the most disgraceful pointsThe anti-Austrian party, discontented and vindictiveThere is not one real patriot among all this infamous hordeThey say you live very poorly here, MoliereThose muskets were immediately embarked and sold to the AmericansThose who did it should not pretend to wish to remedy itTo be formally mistress, a husband had to be foundTrue nobility, gentlemen, consists in giving proofs of itVentured to give such rash advice: inoculationWas but one brilliant action that she could performWe must have obedience, and no reasoningWell, this is royally ill played!What do young women stand in need of?--Mothers!When kings become prisoners they are very near deathWhile the Queen was blamed, she was blindly imitatedWhispered in his mother's ear, "Was that right?""Would be a pity, " she said, "to stop when so fairly on the road"Young Prince suffered from the ricketsYour swords have rusted in their scabbards