Book: The Secret Memoirs of Louis XV./XVI, Complete

U >> Unknown >> The Secret Memoirs of Louis XV./XVI, Complete




"Though the Queen was somewhat awakened to the truth by this earnest
appeal, yet she still considered the extent of the danger as exaggerated,
and looked upon the representation as partaking, in a considerable
degree, of the nature of all reports in times of popular commotion.

"Presently, however, a more startling omen appeared, in a much milder but
ambiguous communication from General La Fayette. He stated that he was
on his march from Paris with the national guard, and part of the people,
coming to make remonstrances; but he begged Her Majesty to rest assured
that no disorder would take place, and that he himself would vouch that
there should be none.

"The King was instantly sent for to the heights of Meudon, while the
Queen set off from Little Trianon, with me, for Versailles.

"The first movements were commenced by a few women, or men in women's
clothes, at the palace gates of Versailles. The guards refused them
entrance, from an order they had received to that effect from La Fayette.
The consternation produced by their resentment was a mere prelude to the
horrid tragedy that succeeded.

"The information now pouring in from different quarters increased Her
Majesty's alarm every moment. The order of La Fayette, not to let the
women be admitted, convinced her that there was something in agitation,
which his unexplained letter made her sensible was more to be feared than
if he had signified the real situation and danger to which she was
exposed.

"A messenger was forthwith despatched for M. La Fayette, and another, by
order of the Queen, for M. de St. Priest, to prepare a retreat for the
Royal Family, as the Parisian mob's advance could no longer be doubted.
Everything necessary was accordingly got ready.

"La Fayette now arrived at Versailles in obedience to the message, and,
in the presence of all the Court and Ministers, assured the King that he
could answer for the Paris army, at the head of which he intended to
march, to prevent disorders; and advised the admission of the women into
the palace, who, he said, had nothing to propose but a simple memorial
relative to the scarcity of bread.

"The Queen said to him, 'Remember, monsieur, you have pledged your honour
for the King's safety.'

"'And I hope, Madame, to be able to redeem it.'

"He then left Versailles to return to his post with the army.

"A limited number of the women were at length admitted; and so completely
did they seem satisfied with the reception they met with from the King,
as, in all appearance, to have quieted their riotous companions. The
language of menace and remonstrance had changed into shouts of 'Vive le
roi!' The apprehensions of Their Majesties were subdued; and the whole
system of operation, which had been previously adopted for the Royal
Family's quitting Versailles, was, in consequence, unfortunately changed.

"But the troops, that had been hitherto under arms for the preservation
of order, in going back to their hotel, were assailed and fired at by the
mob.

"The return of the body-guards, thus insulted in going to and coming from
the palace, caused the Queen and the Court to resume the resolution of
instantly retiring from Versailles; but it was now too late. They were
stopped by the municipality and the mob of the city, who were animated to
excess against the Queen by one of the bass singers of the French
opera.--[La Haise]

"Every hope of tranquillity was now shaken by the hideous howlings which
arose from all quarters. Intended flight had become impracticable.
Atrocious expressions were levelled against the Queen, too shocking for
repetition. I shudder when I reflect to what a degree of outrage the
'poissardes' of Paris were excited, to express their abominable designs
on the life of that most adored of Sovereigns.

"Early in the evening Her Majesty came to my apartment, in company with
one of her female attendants. She was greatly agitated. She brought all
her jewels and a considerable quantity of papers, which she had begun to
collect together immediately on her arrival from Trianon, as the
commandant had recommended.

[Neither Her Majesty nor the Princess ever returned to Versailles after
the sixth of that fatal October! Part of the papers, brought by the
Queen to the apartment of the Princess, were tacked by me on two of my
petticoats; the under one three fold, one on the other, and outside; and
the upper one, three or four fold double on the inside; and thus I left
the room with this paper undergarment, which put me to no inconvenience.
Returning to the Princess, I was ordered to go to Lisle, there take the
papers from their hiding-place, and deliver them, with others, to the
same person who received the box, of which mention will be found in
another part of this work. I was not to take any letters, and was to
come back immediately.

As I was leaving the apartment Her Majesty said something to Her Highness
which I did not hear. The Princess turned round very quickly, and
kissing me on the forehead, said in Italian, "My dear little
Englishwoman, for Heaven's sake be careful of yourself, for I should
never forgive myself if any misfortune were to befall you." "Nor I," said
Her Majesty.]

"Notwithstanding the fatigue and agitation which the Queen must have
suffered during the day, and the continued threats, horrible howlings,
and discharge of firearms during the night, she had courage enough to
visit the bedchambers of her children and then to retire to rest in her
own.

"But her rest was soon fearfully interrupted. Horrid cries at her
chamber door of 'Save the Queen! Save the Queen! or she will be
assassinated!' aroused her. The faithful guardian who gave the alarm was
never heard more. He was murdered in her defence! Her Majesty herself
only escaped the poignards of immediate death by flying to the King's
apartment, almost in the same state as she lay in bed, not having had
time to screen herself with any covering but what was casually thrown
over her by the women who assisted her in her flight; while one well
acquainted with the palace is said to have been seen busily engaged in
encouraging the regicides who thus sought her for midnight murder. The
faithful guards who defended the entrance to the room of the intended
victim of these desperadoes took shelter in the room itself upon her
leaving it, and were alike threatened with instant death by the grenadier
assassins for having defeated them in their fiend-like purpose; they
were, however, saved by the generous interposition and courage of two
gentlemen, who, offering themselves as victims in their place, thus
brought about a temporary accommodation between the regular troops and
the national guard.

"All this time General La Fayette never once appeared. It is presumed
that he himself had been deceived as to the horrid designs of the mob,
and did not choose to show himself, finding it impossible to check the
impetuosity of the horde he had himself brought to action, in concurring
to countenance their first movements from Paris. Posterity will decide
how far he was justified in pledging himself for the safety of the Royal
Family, while he was heading a riotous mob, whose atrocities were
guaranteed from punishment or check by the sanction of his presence and
the faith reposed in his assurance. Was he ignorant, or did he only
pretend to be so, of the incalculable mischief inevitable from giving
power and a reliance on impunity to such an unreasoning mass? By any
military operation, as commander-in-chief, he might have turned the tide.
And why did he not avail himself of that authority with which he had been
invested by the National Assembly, as the delegates of the nation, for
the general safety and guardianship of the people? for the people, of
whom he was the avowed protector, were themselves in peril: it was only
the humanity (or rather, in such a crisis, the imbecility) of Louis XVI.
that prevented them from being fired on; and they would inevitably have
been sacrificed, and that through the want of policy in their leader, had
not this mistaken mercy of the King prevented his guards from offering
resistance to the murderers of his brave defenders!

"The cry of 'Queen! Queen!' now resounded from the lips of the cannibals
stained with the blood of her faithful guards. She appeared, shielded by
filial affection, between her two innocent children, the threatened
orphans! But the sight of so much innocence and heroic courage paralysed
the hands uplifted for their massacre!

"A tiger voice cried out, 'No children!' The infants were hurried away
from the maternal side, only to witness the author of their being
offering up herself, eagerly and instantly, to the sacrifice, an ardent
and delighted victim to the hoped-for preservation of those, perhaps,
orphans, dearer to her far than life! Her resignation and firm step in
facing the savage cry that was thundering against her, disarmed the
ferocious beasts that were hungering and roaring for their prey!

"Mirabeau, whose immense head and gross figure could not be mistaken, is
said to have been the first among the mob to have sonorously chanted, 'To
Paris!' His myrmidons echoed and re-echoed the cry upon the signal. He
then hastened to the Assembly to contravene any measures the King might
ask in opposition. The riots increasing, the Queen said to His Majesty:

"'Oh, Sire! why am I not animated with the courage of Maria Theresa? Let
me go with my children to the National Assembly, as she did to the
Hungarian Senate, with my Imperial brother, Joseph, in her arms and
Leopold in her womb, when Charles the Seventh of Bavaria had deprived her
of all her German dominions, and she had already written to the Duchesse
de Lorraine to prepare her an asylum, not knowing where she should be
delivered of the precious charge she was then bearing; but I, like the
mother of the Gracchi, like Cornelia, more esteemed for my birth than for
my marriage, am the wife of the King of France, and I see we shall be
murdered in our beds for the want of our own exertions!'

"The King remained as if paralysed and stupefied, and made no answer. The
Princesse Elizabeth then threw herself at the Queen's feet, imploring her
to consent to go to Paris.





"'To Paris!' exclaimed Her Majesty.

"'Yes, Madame,' said the King. 'I will put an end to these horrors; and
tell the people so.'

"On this, without waiting for the Queen's answer, he opened the balcony,
and told the populace he was ready to depart with his family.

"This sudden change caused a change equally sudden in the rabble mob. All
shouted, 'Vive le roi! Vive la nation!'

"Re-entering the room from the window, the King said, 'It is done. This
affair will soon be terminated.'

"'And with it,' said the Queen, 'the monarchy!'

"'Better that, Madame, than running the risk, as I did some hours since,
of seeing you and my children sacrificed!'

"'That, Sire, will be the consequence of our not having left Versailles.
Whatever you determine, it is my duty to obey. As to myself, I am
resigned to my fate.' On this she burst into a flood of tears. 'I only
feel for your humiliated state, and for the safety of our children.'

"The Royal Family departed without having consulted any of the Ministers,
military or civil, or the National Assembly, by whom they were followed.

"Scarcely had they arrived at Paris when the Queen recollected that she
had taken with her no change of dress, either for herself or her
children, and they were obliged to ask permission of the National
Assembly to allow them to send for their different wardrobes.

"What a situation for an absolute King and Queen, which, but a few hours
previous, they had been!

"I now took up my residence with Their Majesties at the Tuileries,--that
odious Tuileries, which I can not name but with horror, where the
malignant spirit of rebellion has, perhaps, dragged us to an untimely
death!

"Monsieur and Madame had another residence. Bailly, the Mayor of Paris,
and La Fayette became the royal jailers.

"The Princesse Elizabeth and myself could not but deeply deplore, when we
saw the predictions of Dumourier so dreadfully confirmed by the result,
that Her Majesty should have so slighted his timely information, and
scorned his penitence. But delicacy bade us lament in silence; and,
while we grieved over her present sufferings, we could not but mourn the
loss of a barrier against future aggression, in the rejection of this
general's proffered services.

"It will be remembered, that Dumourier in his disclosure declared that
the object of this commotion was to place the Duc d'Orleans upon the
throne, and that Mirabeau, who was a prime mover, was to share in the
profits of the usurpation.

[But the heart of the traitor Duke failed him at the important crisis.
Though he was said to have been recognised through a vulgar disguise,
stimulating the assassins to the attempted murder of Her Majesty, yet,
when the moment to show himself had arrived, he was nowhere to be found.
The most propitious moment for the execution of the foul crime was lost,
and with it the confidence of his party. Mirabeau was disgusted. So far
from wishing longer to offer him the crown, he struck it forever from his
head, and turned against him. He openly protested he would no longer set
up traitors who were cowards.]

"Soon after this event, Her Majesty, in tears, came to tell me that the
King, having had positive proof of the agency of the Duc d'Orleans in the
riots of Versailles, had commenced some proceedings, which had given the
Duke the alarm, and exiled him to Villers-Cotterets. The Queen added
that the King's only object had been to assure the general tranquillity,
and especially her own security, against whose life the conspiracy seemed
most distinctly levelled.

"'Oh, Princess!' continued Her Majesty, in a flood of tears, 'the King's
love for me, and his wish to restore order to his people, have been our
ruin! He should have struck off the head of D'ORLEANS, or overlooked his
crime! Why did he not consult me before he took a step so important? I
have lost a friend also in his wife! For, however criminal he may be,
she loves him.'

"I assured Her Majesty that I could not think the Duchesse d'Orleans
would be so inconsiderate as to withdraw her affection on that account.

"'She certainly will,' replied Marie Antoinette. 'She is the
affectionate mother of his children, and cannot but hate those who have
been the cause of his exile. I know it will be laid to my charge, and
added to the hatred the husband has so long borne me; I shall now become
the object of the wife's resentment.'

"In the midst of one of the paroxysms of Her Majesty's agonising
agitation after leaving Versailles, for the past, the present, and the
future state of the Royal Family, when the Princesse Elizabeth and myself
were in vain endeavouring to calm her, a deputation was announced from
the National Assembly and the City of Paris, requesting the honour of the
appearance of the King and herself at the theatre.

"'Is it possible, my dear Princess,' cried she, on the announcement,
'that I can enjoy any public amusement while I am still chilled with
horror at the blood these people have spilled, the blood of the faithful
defenders of our lives? I can forgive them, but I cannot so easily
forget it.'

"Count Fersen and the Austrian Ambassador now entered, both anxious to
know Her Majesty's intentions with regard to visiting the theatre, in
order to make a party to ensure her a good reception; but all their
persuasions were unavailing. She thanked the deputation for their
friendship; but at the same time told them that her mind was still too
much agitated from recent scenes to receive any pleasure but in the
domestic cares of her family, and that, for a time, she must decline
every other amusement.

"At this moment the Spanish and English Ambassadors came to pay their
respects to Her Majesty on the same subject as the others. As they
entered, Count Fersen observed to the Queen, looking around:

"'Courage, Madame! We are as many nations as persons in this
room--English, German, Spanish, Italian, Swedish, and French; and all
equally ready to form a rampart around you against aggression. All these
nations will, I believe, admit that the French (bowing to the Princesse
Elizabeth) are the most volatile of the six; and Your Majesty may rely on
it that they will love you, now that you are more closely among them,
more tenderly than ever.'

"'Let me live to be convinced of that, monsieur, and my happiness will be
concentrated in its demonstration.'

"'Indeed, gentlemen,' said the Princesse Elizabeth, the Queen has yet had
but little reason to love the French.'

"'Where is our Ambassador,' said I, 'and the Neapolitan?'

"'I have had the pleasure of seeing them early this morning,' replied the
Queen; 'but I told them, also, that indisposition prevented my going into
public. They will be at our card-party in your apartment this evening,
where I hope to see these gentlemen. The only parties,' continued Her
Majesty, addressing herself to the Princesse Elizabeth and the
Ambassadors, 'the only parties I shall visit in future will be those of
the Princesse de Lamballe, my superintendent; as, in so doing, I shall
have no occasion to go out of the palace, which, from what has happened,
seems to me the only prudent course.'

"'Come, come, Madame,' exclaimed the Ambassadors; I do not give way to
gloomy ideas. All will yet be well.'

"'I hope so,' answered Her Majesty; 'but till that hope is realized, the
wounds I have suffered will make existence a burden to me!'

"The Duchesse de Luynes, like many others, had been a zealous partisan of
the new order of things, and had expressed herself with great
indiscretion in the presence of the Queen. But the Duchess was brought
to her senses when she saw herself, and all the mad, democratical
nobility, under the overpowering weight of Jacobinism, deprived of every
privileged prerogative and levelled and stripped of hereditary
distinction.

"She came to me one day, weeping, to beg I would make use of my good
offices in her favour with the Queen, whom she was grieved that she had
so grossly offended by an unguarded speech.

"'On my knees,' continued the Duchess, I am I ready to supplicate the
pardon of Her Majesty. I cannot live without her forgiveness. One of my
servants has opened my eyes, by telling me that the Revolution can make a
Duchess a beggar, but cannot make a beggar a Duchess.'

"'Unfortunately,' said I, 'if some of these faithful servants had been
listened to, they would still be such, and not now our masters; but I can
assure you, Duchess, that the Queen has long since forgiven you. See!
Her Majesty comes to tell you so herself.'

"The Duchess fell upon her knees. The Queen, with her usual goodness of
heart, clasped her in her arms, and, with tears in her eyes, said:

"'We have all of us need of forgiveness. Our errors and misfortunes are
general. Think no more of the past; but let us unite in not sinning for
the future:

"'Heaven knows how many sins I have to atone for,' replied the Duchess,
'from the follies of youth; but now, at an age of discretion and in
adversity, oh, how bitterly do I reproach myself for my past levities!
But,' continued she, 'has Your Majesty really forgiven me?'

"'As I hope to be forgiven!' exclaimed Marie Antoinette. 'No penitent in
the sight of God is more acceptable than the one who makes a voluntary
sacrifice by confessing error. Forget and forgive is the language of our
Blessed Redeemer. I have adopted it in regard to my enemies, and surely
my friends have a right to claim it. Come, Duchess, I will conduct you
to the King and Elizabeth, who will rejoice in the recovery of one of our
lost sheep; for we sorely feel the diminution of the flock that once
surrounded us!'

"At this token of kindness, the Duchess was so much overcome that she
fell at the Queen's feet motionless, and it was some time before she
recovered.

"From the moment of Her Majesty's arrival at Paris from Versailles, she
solely occupied herself with the education of her children,-excepting
when she resorted to my parties, the only ones, as she had at first
determined, which she ever honoured with her attendance. In order to
discover, as far as possible, the sentiments of certain persons, I gave
almost general invitations, whereby, from her amiable manners and
gracious condescension, she became very popular. By these means I hoped
to replace Her Majesty in the good estimation of her numerous visitors;
but, notwithstanding every exertion, she could not succeed in dispelling
the gloom with which the Revolution had overcast all her former gaiety.
Though treated with ceremonious respect, she missed the cordiality to
which she had been so long accustomed, and which she so much prized. From
the great emigration of the higher classes of the nobility, the societies
themselves were no longer what they had been. Madame Necker and Madame
de Stael were pretty regular visitors. But the most agreeable company
had lost its zest for Marie Antoinette; and she was really become afraid
of large assemblies, and scarcely ever saw a group of persons collected
together without fearing some plot against the King.

"Indeed, it is a peculiarity which has from the first marked, and still
continues to distinguish, the whole conduct and distrust of my royal
mistress, that it never operates to create any fears for herself, but
invariably refers to the safety of His Majesty.

"I had enlarged my circle and made my parties extensive, solely to
relieve the oppressed spirits of the Queen; but the very circumstance
which induced me to make them so general soon rendered them intolerable
to her; for the conversations at last became solely confined to the
topics of the Revolution, a subject frequently the more distressing from
the presence of the sons of the Duc d'Orleans. Though I loved my
sister-in-law and my nephews, I could not see them without fear, nor
could my royal mistress be at ease with them, or in the midst of such
distressing indications as perpetually intruded upon her, even beneath my
roof, of the spirit which animated the great body of the people for the
propagation of anti-monarchical principles.

"My parties were, consequently, broken up; and the Queen ceased to be
seen in society. Then commenced the unconquerable power over her of
those forebodings which have clung to her with such pertinacity ever
since.

"I observed that Her Majesty would often indulge in the most melancholy
predictions long before the fatal discussion took place in the Assembly
respecting the King's abdication. The daily insolence with which she saw
His Majesty's authority deprived forever of the power of accomplishing
what he had most at heart for the good of his people gave her more
anguish than the outrages so frequently heaped upon herself; but her
misery was wrought up to a pitch altogether unutterable, whenever she saw
those around her suffer for their attachment to her in her misfortunes.

"The Princesse Elizabeth has been from the beginning an unwavering
comforter. She still flatters Marie Antoinette that Heaven will spare
her for better times to reward our fidelity and her own agonies. The
pious consolations of Her Highness have never failed to make the most
serious impression on our wretched situation. Indeed, each of us strives
to pour the balm of comfort into the wounded hearts of the others, while
not one of us, in reality, dares to flatter herself with what we all so
ardently wish for in regard to our fellow-sufferers. Delusions, even
sustained by facts, have long since been exhausted. Our only hope on
this side of the grave is in our all-merciful Redeemer!"




SECTION VII.


Editors Commentary:

The reader will not, I trust, be dissatisfied at reposing for a moment
from the sad story of the Princesse de Lamballe to hear some ridiculous
circumstances which occurred to me individually; and which, though they
form no part of the history, are sufficiently illustrative of the temper
of the times.

I had been sent to England to put some letters into the postoffice for
the Prince de Conde, and had just returned. The fashion then in England
was a black dress, Spanish hat, and yellow satin lining, with three
ostrich feathers forming the Prince of Wales's crest, and bearing his
inscription, 'Ich dien,' ("I serve.") I also brought with me a white
satin cloak, trimmed with white fur. This crest and motto date as far
back, I believe, as the time of Edward, the Black Prince.

In this dress, I went to the French opera. Scarcely was I seated in the
bog, when I heard shouts of, "En bas les couleurs de d'empereur! En
bas!"

I was very busy talking to a person in the box, and, having been
accustomed to hear and see partial riots in the pit, I paid no attention;
never dreaming that my poor hat and feathers, and cloak, were the cause
of the commotion, till an officer in the national guard very politely
knocked at the door of the box, and told me I must either take them off
or leave the theatre.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.