“Yes, yes, my dear Comte, you are right. We must do this …” and to Necker, “You are right. I must stand my ground.” And to me: “We must be together. We must not be separated.”
And meanwhile the decisive moments were ticking by. This I suspected was what Louis wished. He would not be forced to make the choice.
Circumstances should do it for him. This was how he had always been.
This was why we now teetered on the edge of revolution. I can see it so clearly now . all the steps which had led to our downfall, the many chances which fate had offered us, and at each one Louis had hesitated undl it was too late and the decision was no longer his.
Down in the courtyards the horses were pawing impatiently; the servant? were awaiting orders. They went on waiting. The rain was teeming down and the women of Paris put their skirts over their heads to protect them while they shouted obscene remarks to each other—and they were about the Queen.
They were in Versailles . cold, wet and angry—and intoxicated, for they’ had raided the wine shops on the way.
Behind the mob rode La Fayette and the National Guard. Whether he intended to curb them we were not sure. We were never sure of La Fayette, except that his actions were always too late to be effective and we suspected that he was not entirely enamoured of this revolution which he had done his best to bring about. He was imbued with American ideas and ideals. He doubtless visualised a speedy conflict and then a new nadon built on the remains of the old, in which liberty, equality and fraternity flourished. But he was not dealing with a band of colonists who fought for an ideal of freedom; his army was made up of agitators and prostitutes, men and women who were fed on envy, who demanded blood all the time not because they wished for freedom, not because they wished to build a new way of life—but because they wanted revenge. La Fayette was a man of honour. He must have realised this. He knew that he had aroused a fury of lust, greed, envy, sloth, coverousness, wrath and pride . all the seven deadliest sins. And I believe he was an uneasy man.
But the very fact that the National Guard was there with its commander showed that this was no ordinary assault. There was purpose behind it; and if the purpose of the women was to kill me, that of the Guards was to take the King to Paris.
Mist had fallen over the town; it seeped into the chateau; it hung in patches like grey ghosts. The marchers now surrounded us. I could hear their chanting: “Du pain. Du pain.”
Then I heard my name. They wanted the Queen. They wanted her head on a pike. They were going to fight over my body. They would make cockades of my entrails. They would tear out my heart and carry it to Paris.
They would slit my throat with their butchers’ knives; they would ram the mouldy bread they had been forced to eat down my throat and make me eat it before they strangled me.
I tried to think of my mother, who bad always told me that I must never be afraid of death. When it came I must welcome it for it was the end of all earthly sorrows. Oh my mother, I thought, how I rejoice that you did not live to see this day.
I thought of my children. They would surely not harm them. Oh God, what would become of us?
The King’s calmness was a help to us all. He refused to believe that his good people would harm any of us. They would not even harm me, for they would know how that would grieve him. And when they said they would send a deputation of women to par ky with him he declared himself very happy to receive them.
Five of the women were chosen to speak to the King and tell him of their grievances. This cheered us greatly, for it seemed a reasonable arrangement.
The women were brought to the King, and they chose for their spokeswoman Louison Chabry, a flower-girl of outstanding beauty, who certainly looked well nourished, so it was evident that all the people of Paris were not starving. I guessed her to be a bold creature, but brought face to face with the courteous manners of the King she was bewildered and tongue-tied. Even Louis, who was so unlike his grandfather, bad inherited a little of that aura which surrounded his ancestors, and bold Louison suddenly realised that she. was in the presence of royalty, and could only goggle with amazement and murmur: “Du pain. Sire.” Perhaps the march in the rain had been too much for her, perhaps she was overcome by excitement, but she fainted and would have fallen if the King had not caught her.
The King called his doctor and the girl was revived. Then he talked to her of her troubles, and all she could do was look at him with round eyes of wonder and murmur: Yes, Sire. No, Sire. “
If only they had all been as easy to handle as Louison I He told her that he regarded himself as the little father of his people and that his one desire was to make them happy and see them well fed. Clearly she believed him and was ready to change her revolutionary ideas and become a loyal subject without more ado. And when she left, Louis kissed her with fervour. It was the first time I ever saw him kiss a woman with relish. He even joked and said that the kiss made it well worth the trouble. Well worth the trouble ! I thought. Of having a howling mob at our gates? Of losing the crown?
There were times when I believed his lethargy was a physical disability. Could any normal man be so calm in the face of such unprecedented disaster?
Louison returned to her friends. How her account of her interview was received no one can imagine. Meanwhile night was falling and the women took off their skirts—as they said, to dry them—and mingled with the soldiers who were supposed to be guarding the chateau.
The uneasy day had passed into uneasy night.
Saint-Priest and Axel wanted immediate action. As they saw it, it was folly to stay.
Louis began to see that we should leave for Rambouillet-not only myself and the children but himself and the rest of the family.
He took my hand and said: “You are right that we should not be parted.
We will go together. “
I hurried into the children’s apartments.
“We are leaving in half an hour,” I told Madame de Tourzel.
“Get the children ready But even as I spoke, one of the King’s servants came to tell me that the escape was now impossible, for the crowds were in the stables and they would not allow the carriages to leave.
I could have wept. Once more we had hesitated and lost.
I told Madame de Tourzel not to disturb the children and I went back to my husband’s apartments. Axel was beside me. He could no longer restrain himself; he gripped my band and said: “You must give me an order that I may take horses from the stables. I may need them to defend you.”
I shook my head.
“You must not risk your life for me,” I told him.
“For what else Tor the King,” I suggested. And I added, trying to soothe the anguish he showed so dearly he was feeling: “I am not afraid. My mother taught me not to fear death. If it has come for me I will accept it with fortitude, I believe.”
He turned away. He was determined to save me. But how could one man’s love save me from those howling men and women who were bent on my destruction?
La Fayette arrived at Versailles about midnight, and stationing his men in the Place dAmes he came to the Palace to see the King.
He entered in a theatrical way. I often wondered whether Monsieur de La Fayette saw himself as the hero of the Revolution who would bring about the reforms he believed the country needed with the niirmnimi of violence. He made a grandiloquent speech about serving the King and bringing his own head to save that of His Majesty, whereupon Louis replied that the General must never doubt that he was always pleased to see him and his good people of Paris. He begged the General would tell them this.
The General asked that those guards who had deserted their posts and gone to the National Guard a few weeks before should be allowed to resume their old dudes. It would be a gesture of trust.
What were gestures of trust with those people down there? Yet I believed that both Louis and La Fayette believed in it.
The King took my hand and kissed it.
You are exhausted. It has been
a tiring day. Go to bed and get some sleep now. Our good Monsieur de La Fayette will see that all is well.”
La Fayette bowed.
“Your Majesties need have no anxiety,” he said.
“The people have promised that they will remain calm throughout the night.”
I went to my bedchamber and sank on to my bed. It was true. The events of this day had left me exhausted.
I was awakened just before dawn by unfamiliar sounds. I started’ up in bed and peered into the darkness. I heard the voices again—coarse, crude voices. Whence did they come? I rang the bell and one of my women came in. She must have been near—which surprised me, for I had told them not to sleep in my room but to go to their own beds.
“Whose voices are those?” I asked.
“The women of Paris, Madame. They are wandering about on the terrace.
There is nothing to fear. Monsieur de La Fayette has given his word.”
I nodded and went back to sleep. It seemed a short while afterwards when I was awakened by the same woman and another standing by my bedside. The room seemed full of shouting voices.
“Madame—quickly I You must dress! They are invading the chateau! They are close….”
I leaped out of bed. Madame Thiebaut, Madame Campan’s sister, was there. She was thrusting shoes on my feet and trying to wrap a robe about me. Then I heard the voices close:
“This way. We’ll get her. This is her apartment. I’ll cut her heart out myself.”
“No—no, that honour’s for me.”
“Cone quickly,” cried Madame Thiebaut.
“There is no time to dress.
They are almost upon us. “
“The King’s apartment …” I stammered.
“The children They were dragging me through the narrow corridor to wards the Oeil de Boeuf. The door was locked. It was the first time I had ever known it locked and I was seized with a violent horror because I knew from the nearness of voices that the intruders were already in my bedroom.
Madame Thiebaut was banging on the door.
“Open open for God’s sake!
For the Queen’s sake . , open! “
I heard the shouts.
“She’s fooled us. She’s gone. Where is she? We’ll find her.”
“Oh God,” I prayed.
“Help me to be brave. This is the moment. This is death horrible death.”
I was hammering on the door and suddenly it was opened and we fell into the Oett de Boeuf. The page who had opened it locked it again and we sped across to the King’s apartments. I was sobbing with terror.
Death I could face, but not violent, obscene death at the hands of those savages.
“The King!” I cried.
“He is going to your bedchamber to find you,” I was told.
“But they are there!”
“He has gone by means of the secret corridor under the Oeil de Boeuf.”
It was the secret way he had come when people used to watch his visits to my bedchamber and snigger over them. How fortunate that I had had that secret way made!
But what would happen to him? Would he be safe? They were crying for my blood, not his.
“The children …” I began. And then Madame de Tour-zei came in leading them, hastily snatched from their beds, robes over their sleeping clothes.
They ran to me and I embraced them; I held them to me as though I would never let them go. Then the King came in calm, almost unhurried.
“They are in your bedroom,” he said, ‘despoiling the room. “
I had a horrible vision of them slashing the bed which was still warm, pulling down the hangings, snatching up my treasures.
I thought strangely enough of the little clock which my son so loved and which played a tune.
I beard the tinkling sound quite clearly.
“II pleut, il pleut berg ere Presse tes blancs moutons …”
Listen,” I said.
“What is that?”
It was the sound of blows on the door of the Oeil de Boeuf.
We waited. I think even Louis believed then that our last hour had come.
Then . the blows ceased. One of the pages came running in to tell us that the Guards were driving the mob out of the chateau.
I sat down and covered my face with my hands.
My son was pulling at my skirt.
“Maman, what are they all doing?”
I just held him against me. I could not speak. My daughter took her brother’s hand and said: “You must not worry Maman now.”
“Why?” he wanted to know.
“Because there are so many things to think of I thought: They will kill my son. He smiled at me and whispered: ” It’s all right, Maman, Moufflet is here. “
“Then,” I whispered back, ‘it is all right. “
He nodded.
In the Cour Royale and the Cour de Marbre they were shouting for Orleans. I shivered. How deeply was the Due d’Orieans involved in this?
Elisabeth had taken the Dauphin on to her knee; I felt comforted to have Elisabeth with us.
“Maman,” said my son, “Chou d’Amour is hungry I kissed him.
“In a little while you shall eat.”
He nodded.
“Moufflet too,” he reminded me, and we all smiled.
The crowds outside the chateau were shouting for the King.
“The King on the balcony I looked at Louis. He stepped out. They must admire him, surely. He showed not a vestige of fear. They were not to know that he felt none.
La Fayette had arrived to the apartment. He was clearly amazed that the mob had broken into the Palace. He had had their word.
I was not surprised that he was nicknamed General Morphee; he would have been fast asleep in his bed while the assassins were breaking into the chateau.
Provence arrived with the Due d’Orieans, both well-shaven and powdered. Provence looked cold as usual and Orleans sly. Madame Campan told me afterwards that there were many who swore they had seen him disguised among the rioters in the early morning and that he was the one who had shown the mob the way to my apartments.
La Fayette made his way to the balcony.
“The King,” roared the crowd.
La Fayette, bowing, presented the King. The General lifted his hand and told them that the King had now consented to the Declaration of the Rights of Man. Much had been achieved and now he knew they would wish to go home. He, the Commander of the National Guard,”re quested them to.
Did he expect them to obey him? He could not have been such a fool. He was a man playing a part the part of hero of the hour.
Of course the crowd did not move. They were going to have what they had come for.
Then a voice shouted: “The Queen. The Queen on the balcony.”
The cry was taken up. Now it was a deafening roar.
No,” said the King. You must not …”
Axel was there. He made a step towards me but I ordered him with my eyes to keep away. He must not betray our love before all these people. That could only add to our troubles.
I stepped towards the balcony.
My daughter began to cry and I said: “It’s all right, darling. Don’t be frightened, little Mousseline. The people only want to see me.”
It was Axel who thrust my daughter’s hand in mine and, lifting my son, put him in my arms.
No! “I cried.
But he was pushing me on to the balcony. He believed the people would not harm the children.
There was silence as I stood there. Then they cried:
“No children. Send the children back.”
I was sure then that they were going to kill me. I turned and handed the Dauphin to Madame de Tourzel. My daughter tried to cling to my robe but I pushed her back.
Then alone I stepped on to the balcony. There was buzzing in my head but perhaps it was the whispering below me. It seemed to take me minutes to make that one short step. It was as though time itself had stopped and the whole world was waiting
for me to cross the threshold between life and death.
I was alone and defenceless facing those people who had come to Versailles to kill me. I had folded my hands across my gold-and-white striped robe into which I had been hastily put when I was aroused from my bed, my hair fell about my shoulders.
I beard a voice cry: Now, there she is. The Austrian Woman. Shoot her. “
I bowed my head as though to greet them; and the silence went on and on.
What happened in those seconds I do not know except that the French are the most emotional people in the world. They love and hate with more vehemence than others. All their feelings are intense, and the more so, perhaps, for being transient.
My apparent lack of fear, my extreme femininity perhaps, my cool indifference to death, touched them momentarily.
Someone shouted: “Vive la Heine’ And others took it up. I looked down on that sea of faces on those disreputable people with their knives and cudgels and their cruel faces. And I was not afraid.
I bowed once more and stepped into the room.
There I was received by a few seconds of bewildered silence. Then the King was embracing me with tears in his eyes and my children clinging to my skirts were crying with him.
But this was a momentary respite.
The crowd was shouting again: “To Paris. The King to Paris.”
The King said this matter must be discussed with the National Assembly. They should be invited to come to the Palace.
But the people outside were growing restive.
“To Paris,” they chanted.
“The King to Paris.”
Saint-Priest was gloomy. So was Axel.
“They will break into the chateau,” he said.
“It is clear. Monsieur de La Payette, that you have no power to restrain them,” La Fayette could not deny this.
“I must save further bloodshed,” said the King.
“I will go peaceably to Paris.” He turned to me and said quickly: “We must be together … all of us.”
Then he stepped on to the balcony and said: “My friends, I shall go to Paris with my wife and children. I shall mist what is most precious to me to the love of my good and faithful subjects.”
There were shouts of joy. The journey had been a success, the mission carried out.
The Queen`s Confession Page 41
