The Debacle
Over the previous days, the organization of the king's escort had initially gone quite smoothly, despite the modifications caused by Louis' last-minute decision to delay his departure by one day. As Fersen and the royal family completed their preparations and launched the escape from Paris, General Bouille had been activating a whole series of prearranged troop movements to prepare a reception for the king. The general himself had left his headquarters in Metz on June i6, informing local officials that he was off to inspect the frontiers for possible Austrian troop activities. Orders were given to begin concentrating soldiers and large quantities of food and supplies in Montmedy. On June zo he had arrived in Stenay, the fortified town on the Meuse between Montmedy and Varennes. His youngest son and another officer, the count de Raigecourt, had been sent ahead to Varennes with a team of relay horses, joining some forty German troops already stationed there. To avoid suspicion, they were to keep the horses in the stables of an inn just east of the river, leading them to the southern edge of Varennes only when they were notified of the king's impending arrival. During the night of June 20-21 the elder Bouille and a small group of officers had secretly ridden eight miles farther south to wait for the royal party in a secluded position just north of the small town of Dun. Meanwhile, other contingents of German cavalry were led from the south by commanders Damas and Andoins to take up positions in Clermont and Sainte-Menehould respectively. On the morning of June 21, Francois de Goguelat himself had led forty hussars from Sainte-Menehould to Somme-Vesle, arriving about noon to meet the duke de Choiseul-and the hairdresser Leonard-who were waiting at the relay post.22
All these well-laid plans, however, were evolving not in a vacuum but in full view of a civilian population that was anything but passive. The townspeople of Varennes were not alone in their growing apprehension about the unexplained troop movements throughout the region during the month of June. The pervasive suspicion of General Bouille, the "butcher of Nancy," and of the aristocratic officers who commanded in the field was only intensified by the overwhelming presence of German-speaking mercenaries in all the contingents that people now saw passing. The tension was compounded by the army's failure to give ample advance warning of the arriving cavalrymen. Town leaders were notified at the last moment that the troops had been sent to protect money being shipped from Paris to pay the army guarding the frontier. But the story did little to allay local fears. Why were there so many cavalrymen, when a single escort from start to finish should have been sufficient? Why had the commanders dispatched only Germanspeaking troops? Was a war about to break out-always a critical question for this frontier region-and, if so, on which side would a German army led by aristocrats fight? Ironically, then, the very escorts sent to protect the king were arousing great suspicion among the population through which the king must travel.
In Montmedy the apparent preparation of a large military camp -and the order to bake i8,ooo rations of bread-had also excited "mistrust and anxiety." "These extraordinary movements in a time of peace, aides-de-camp appearing on all the roads, sentinels positioned everywhere, had raised a general alarm among the popula- tion."23 The people of Clermont, just south of Varennes, watched as 15o cavalry rode through one day and i 8o more the next, the latter abruptly announcing their intention to stay the night. Few believed the story of the shipment of a strongbox, and rumors spread that the "treasure" in question was actually being smuggled out by the queen to her brother the Austrian emperor-or that maybe the treasure was the queen herself.24 Likewise Sainte-Menehould, farther west, saw the sudden and unannounced appearance of two successive cavalry contingents. The second, a group of dragoons under the command of Andoins, dismounted at midmorning on June 21 in the town's large central square and waited there throughout the day while their nervous commander paced the street and periodically rode out of town to watch the horizon. Whenever the officers were away, townspeople attempted to communicate with the foreigntongued cavalrymen, plying them with drink and asking them their "real" purpose in the region. Many of the soldiers, mystified themselves by their strange assignment, began to wonder whether their officers could be trusted. By the end of the afternoon, suspicions had reached such a level that elements of the national guard began arming and preparing for an unidentified calamity."
In the meantime, even more disastrous events were unrolling at the critical forward position of Somme-Vesle, where the duke de Choiseul's hussars were waiting not in a town but in the open countryside. Here, as in so many rural regions of France after the Revolution began, the peasants had been recalcitrant about paying their seigneurial dues. When the cavalrymen arrived, splendid and frightening in their high plumed helmets, panic spread through the community that the men had come to seize the peasants' money or crops, and people arrived from every direction, pitchforks and sickles in hand, shouting and threatening the horsemen. In the midafternoon, having heard stories of the unrest from passing travelers, a delegation of national guardsmen came out from Chalons to investigate. Choiseul and Goguelat attempted to reason with everyone, telling them the story of the strongbox. Although the guardsmen were apparently pacified and returned home, the peasants remained unconvinced and continued to menace the detachment.26
At the same time, Choiseul grew increasingly uneasy about the long-overdue arrival of the king. Goguelat had carefully timed the trip, and by his calculations the royal party should have arrived by two o'clock. In a letter to Bouille, Fersen had even promised that the king would be in Somme-Vesle by half past two: "you can count on it." Finally, late in the afternoon the young duke made a series of poorly conceived decisions heavy with consequences for the whole plan of escape. Unnerved by the presence of the crowds, worried that the king had somehow failed to leave Paris, fearful that even if the king did arrive, the near-riot conditions at the relay post might jeopardize his passage, Choiseul resolved to retreat, and to retreat not just a short way down the road, but all the way to Bouille's headquarters in Stenay, some fifty miles distant. Perhaps even more fateful, he then sent word to the other contingents of cavalry waiting behind him: "It would appear that the treasure is not arriving today. I am leaving to rejoin General Bouille. You will receive new orders tomorrow." Finally, to deliver the message he made the exceptionally strange choice of Monsieur Leonard, the queen's hair- dresser.27
For the next eight hours the duke and his small force would disappear to the northeast, traveling across country rather than following the main road, raising pandemonium as they galloped unannounced through village after village, before storming into the Argonne Forest and losing their way. In contrast, Monsieur Leonard in his small carriage, rapidly taking to his role as military courier, performed his task perfectly. Driving in succession through Sainte-Menehould, Clermont, and Varennes, he passed along the message implying that the king was not coming. In the first two towns, Andoins and Damas welcomed an excuse to have their men unsaddle and retire to their lodgings, to some extent reducing the fears of the townspeople. Both nevertheless remained at their posts with a few officers and soldiers, waiting to see what would happen. In Varennes both commander and cavalry retired for the night. Only Raigecourt and the younger Bouille stood in readiness at their hotel window, waiting to see if the relay horses, below in the stables, might still be necessary.28
As THE ROYAL CARAVAN drove down the long main street of Sainte-Menehould and into the central square, the anxieties aroused by the failure to find Choiseul were scarcely allayed. They did now see cavalry, but the men seemed to be relaxing, dismounted and disarmed, some of them drinking in an inn. Even more worrisome were the groups of national guardsmen, many carrying muskets, milling about on the opposite side of the Place Royale in front of the elegant brick and limestone town hall. The travelers must have felt as if they were stumbling by chance into a drama unrolling on the stage of the town square, where the entire citizenry seemed to be gathered. They must also have been aware that everyone had turned to watch them, staring in particular at the bodyguard
s, who looked for all the world like the men of the prince de Conde. A few buildings farther along, on a street that angled off to the right, the royal party found the relay post where Valory and the stablehands were already preparing the horses. The change of teams went smoothly and rapidly. While they were waiting, the queen, anxious to learn what was happening, called Andoins over to the berline. The officer tried to look casual as he walked up, but when he saw the king he instinctively saluted. He then whispered, "Plans have not worked out; I must leave for fear of raising suspicion." And he quickly walked away. "These few words," as Tourzel recalled, "pierced us to the heart."29
The manager of the relay post, Jean-Baptiste Drouet, apparently arrived on the scene only after his stablehands had almost completed the change of horses. Twenty-eight years old, the younger of two brothers, he had served seven years in the cavalry before returning to his hometown to work in the family fields and operate the post owned by his widowed mother. He was ambitious and selfconfident, but he found himself forced into the drudgery of farm work and manual labor, a considerable comedown from the glamorous career of his youth, and a source of much frustration." Now, when he saw the berline and looked carefully at the passengers inside, he was stunned to recognize the queen of France, whom he had once seen while his company was stationed near Versailles. Although he had never before viewed the king, the face of the heavyset man sitting next to her struck him as remarkably like the image of Louis XVI printed on the new paper money that had lately come into circulation. After watching the two carriages drive away, he began telling everyone around him that the king had just passed. At first, like the people in Chaintrix and in Chalons, no one knew what to do or what to think. But only a few minutes later Andoins had the bugle sounded, calling his dragoons to remount and prepare to leave, and suddenly the scales fell from their eyes. It had all been a plot. The cavalry had come not to escort a strongbox, but to accompany the king, who either was fleeing or had been abducted.31
[To view this image, refer to the print version of this title.]
Drouet Recognises the King in Sainte-Menehould. The royal family waits while Louis dines on pigs' feet, the culinary specialty of Sainte-Menehould, in an inn called An Fuiard (The Runaway). Drouet identifies the monarch by comparing him with the portrait on a bill of paper money. In reality, the king never left the carriage while in Sainte-Menehould.
Thereafter the chronology of events in Sainte-Menehould is somewhat unclear. Almost immediately the local national guard, armed with muskets, drums beating, organized themselves and lined up across the street to block the passage of the cavalry. At the same time, other citizens began talking to the horsemen, encouraging them to disobey their officers. While Andoins tried to talk with the townspeople, one of his mounted officers fired a pistol into the air and made a run for it, breaking through the guardsmen and riding out of town, dodging the musket shots that were fired his way. With the church bells now ringing and riot conditions breaking out, Andoins and the remaining officers were disarmed and locked in the town jail for their own safety. Drouet was called into the municipal council, meeting in emergency session in their hall, directly adjoining the riot site. And after he had told his story, the town fathers, on their own initiative, made an extraordinary decision. If the king was leaving Paris, it could only mean that he was heading for the frontier, perhaps to return with a foreign army, to invade the country and end the Revolution. Other towns in the direction of the frontier must be warned and the king stopped. They asked Drouet himself, known as one of the best riders in town, to go after him. The postmaster quickly recruited his friend jean Guillaume, another excavalryman, and the two set off in pursuit of the royal family, by now a good hour and a half ahead of them. As they approached the town of Clermont, Drouet and Guillaume encountered the postmaster's driver bringing back the team, and he told them that the berline and the cabriolet had left the main road and turned north. The two horsemen then headed across country in the direction of Varennes.32
About an hour earlier, around half past nine, after a slow climb over the hills of the Argonne, the royal caravan had pulled into the relay stop at Clermont. It was almost dark, and the post was on the near edge of town, so few people saw the travelers arrive, and the change of horses went quickly. The count Damas, who had remained waiting nearby, cautiously spoke to the royal family and at greater length with Valory, warning them of the wide unrest in Clermont over the presence of troops, and promising to follow as soon as the two carriages had advanced some distance ahead-thus following Bouille's orders to the letter. But the caravan was seen clearly as it passed through the middle of town and turned toward Varennes. The events that followed in Clermont were strangely similar to those in Sainte-Menehould. No one had recognized the royal couple, but everyone saw the prince de Conde's yellow livery and concluded there must be some connection with the soldiers who had been inexplicably billeted in their town the last two days. About an hour later, as national guardsmen put on their uniforms and assembled, the officer who had escaped Sainte-Menehould arrived and informed Damas that the king's party had been recognized and that a full-scale riot had broken out as soon as they had left. When the commander tried to rally his men, most of them, now drinking heavily and won over by the citizenry, refused to obey. He escaped with only a handful of cavalry, riding at full speed in an attempt to warn the king.33
In the meantime the occupants of the berline were advancing steadily down the long valley of the Aire, exhausted by their trek and dozing in the darkness "despite their tension and anxiety."34 Their tension would have been still greater if they had been aware of the waves of panic and insurrection rapidly approaching from the rear. There was the smaller local surge generated by the events in Sainte-Menehould and Clermont and by the duke de Choiseul's wild ride through the villages of the Argonne. Not far behind was an even greater wave of emotion spreading over the whole kingdom, as official couriers and private citizens rushed down the roads of France announcing the news of the king's disappearance.
The arrival in Varennes about eleven brought yet another jolt of uncertainty and disappointment. Bouille and Choiseul had promised to position a new team of horses in the trees near the road just before the first houses. But although Valory and Moustier searched ev erywhere, riding into the sleeping settlement as far as the river, they found no sign of the expected relay team. They even knocked on a few doors close to the entrance of the town, yet they could obtain no assistance. The travelers then asked the drivers to skip the relay and continue on to Dun, but the men from Clermont had strict instructions from their post-master to go no farther than Varennes unless the horses were first fed and rested. A half-hour, perhaps forty minutes passed as they searched the town and argued with the drivers. And while they were still parked by the road, Drouet and Guillaume trotted past and into town 35
Finally the drivers agreed to proceed to the center of Varennes while the party looked for more horses. They advanced slowly through the darkness, the street illuminated only by the lanterns of the cabriolet. They began to hear voices, shouts, someone crying, "Fire! Fire!" Madame de Tourzel remembered the moment vividly: "We thought we had been betrayed, and we drove down the street with a feeling of sadness and distress that can scarcely be described." They passed under the archway by the inn of the Golden Arm. And there they were stopped.36
Return to Paris
For the royal family and their supporters, the night in Varennes could only have been a prolonged agony, the stuff of their worst nightmares-those "eight deathly hours of waiting," as Madame de Tourzel described them. There were moments of hope: the seeming willingness of the town leaders to help them, the miraculous appearance first of Choiseul and Goguelat, and then of Damas and Deslon at the head of their cavalry units. To the last moment there was also the wishful assumption that General Bouille was nearby, that he was on his way to deliver them. But Louis resolutely rejected his officers' proposals to extricate the family violently, lest harm befall his wife and children. The t
own council's change of heart soon thereafter, its refusal to allow them to continue their journey, was a bitter disappointment. The appearance of the couri ers from Paris, ordering their return to the capital, brought final humiliation and defeat.
For a time they tried to stall. They requested that the children be allowed to sleep longer, that they themselves be given time to rest. One of the nursemaids even feigned a violent stomachache. In the end, they asked and were granted a moment alone to gather their thoughts, time which they spent preparing a common story and burning the incriminating documents in their possession. Finally, at about half past seven in the morning, the royal party was led from Sauce's store and taken to the two carriages, which had now been turned around. The family was frightened by the great sea of people filling the street and the square beyond the river, jostling for a view of the king and queen, shouting continuously, "Long live the nation! Long live the king! Back to Paris!" The duke de Choiseul, ever gallant, helped the queen into the berline. She turned and asked him, "Do you think Monsieur Fersen has escaped?" The duke said that he believed he had. Soon afterward he was pulled away into the crowd, badly beaten, and eventually led away to prison in Verdun, along with Damas and several other officers. Only the wily Goguelat with his bandaged pistol wound somehow managed to slip out of town, to be captured several days later on the Austrian border. As the carriages moved slowly up the hill along the road back toward Paris, the family looked across the river, still wondering what had happened to Bouille.37
When the King Took Flight Page 8
