The queen urged to attend the theater.Dignified reply of the queen.
But two days after these horrid outrages, in the midst of which the king and queen were dragged as captives to Paris, the city sent a deputation to request the queen to appear at the theater, and thus to prove, by participating in those gay festivities, that it was with pleasure that she resided in her capital. With much dignity the queen replied, "I should, with great pleasure, accede to the invitation of the peopleof Paris; but time must be allowed me to soften the recollection of the distressing events which have recently occurred, and from which I have suffered so severely. Having come to Paris preceded by the heads of my faithful guards, who perished before the door of their sovereign, I can not think that such an entry into the capital ought to be followed by rejoicings. But the happiness I have always felt in appearing in the midst of the inhabitants of Paris is not effaced from my memory; and I hope to enjoy that happiness again, so soon as I shall find myself able to do so."
Her unpopularity increases.The queen's vigorous action.Ultimate cause of the popular fury.Transgressors visited in their children.
The queen was, however, increasingly the object of especial obloquy. She was accused of urging the king to bombard the city, and to adopt other most vigorous measures of resistance. It was affirmed that she held continual correspondence with the emigrants at Coblentz, and was doing all in her power to rouse Austria to come to the rescue of the king. Maria would have been less than the noble woman she was if she had not done all this, and more, for the protection of her husband, her child, and herself. She inherited her mother's superiority of mind and mental energy. Had Louis possessed her spirit, he might have perished more heroically,but probably none the less surely. Maria did, unquestionably, do every thing in her power to rouse her husband to a more energetic and manly defense. Generations of kings, by licentiousness, luxury, and oppression; by total disregard of the rights of the people, and by the naughty contempt of their sufferings and complaints, had kindled flames of implacable hatred against all kingly power. Circumstances, over which neither Louis nor Maria had any control, caused these flames to burst out with resistless fury around the throne of France, at the time in which they happened to be seated upon it. Though there never had been seated upon that throne more upright, benevolent, and conscientious monarchs, they were compelled to drain to the dregs the poisoned chalice which their ancestors had mingled. Perhaps this world presents no more affecting illustration of that mysterious principle of the divine government, by which the transgressions of the parents are visited upon the children. Louis XIV., as haughty and oppressive a monarch as ever trod an enslaved people into the dust, died peacefully in his luxurious bed. His descendant, Louis XVI., as mild and benignant a sovereign as ever sat upon an earthly throne, receivedupon his unresisting brow the doom from which his unprincipled ancestors had escaped. It is difficult for us, in the sympathy which is excited for the comparatively innocent Maria Antoinette and Louis, to remember the ages of wrong and outrage by which the popular exasperation had been raised to wreak itself in indiscriminating atrocities. There is but one solution to these mysteries: "After death comes the judgment."
1789-1791
Condition of the royal family.Ignominiously insulted.The royal family surrounded by spies.The queen refuses to escape.Excuse for the emigrants.
Theking and queen now found themselves in the gorgeous apartments of the Tuileries, surrounded with all the mockery of external homage, but incessantly exposed to the most ignominious insults, and guarded with sleepless vigilance from the possibility of escape. The name of the queen was the watchword of popular execration and rage. In the pride of her lofty spirit, she spurned all apologies, explanations, or attempts at conciliation. Inclosing herself in the recesses of her palace, she heard with terror and resentment, but with an unyielding soul, the daily acts of violence perpetrated against royalty and all of its friends. All her trusty servants were removed, and spies in their stead occupied her parlors and her chambers. Trembling far more for her husband and her children than for herself, every noise in the streets aroused her apprehensions of a new insurrection. And thus, for nearly two years of melancholy days and sorrowful nights, the verynobleness of her nature, glowing with heroic love, magnified her anguish. The terror of the times had driven nearly all the nobility from the realm. The court was forsaken, or attended only by the detested few who were forced as ministers upon the royal family by the implacable populace. Every word and every action of Maria Antoinette were watched, and reported by the spies who surrounded her in the guise of servants. To obtain a private interview with any of her few remaining friends, or even with her husband, it was necessary to avail herself of private stair-cases, and dark corridors, and the disguise of night. The queen regretted extremely that the nobles, and others friendly to royalty, should, in these hours of gathering danger, have fled from France. When urged to fly herself from the dangers darkening around her, she resolutely refused, declaring that she would never leave her husband and children, but that she would live or die with them. The queen, convinced of the impolicy of emigration, did every thing in her power to induce the emigrants to return. Urgent letters were sent to them, to one of which the queen added the following postscript with her own hand: "If you love your king, your religion, your government,and your country, return! return! return! Maria Antoinette." The emigrants were severely censured by many for abandoning their king and country in such a crisis. But when all law was overthrown, and the raging mob swayed hither and thither at its will, and nobles were murdered on the high way or hung at lamp-posts in the street, and each night the horizon was illumined by the conflagration of their chateaux, a husband and father can hardly be severely censured for endeavoring to escape with his wife and children from such scenes of horror.
Their plans.
A year of gloom now slowly passed away, almost every moment of which was embittered by disappointed hopes and gathering fears. The emigrants, who were assembled at Coblentz, on the frontiers of Germany, were organizing an army for the invasion of France and the restoration of the regal power. The people were very fearful that the king and queen might escape, and, joining the emigrants, add immeasurably to their moral strength. There were thousands in France, overawed by the terrors of the mob, who would most eagerly have rallied around the banners of such an invading army, headed by their own king. Louis, however, with his characteristic want of energy, was very unwilling toassume a hostile attitude toward his subjects, and still vainly hoped, by concessions and by the exhibition of a forgiving spirit, to reconcile his disaffected people.
Profligate women.Their talk with the queen.
On the morning after the arrival of the king and queen at the Tuileries, an occurrence took place highly characteristic of the times. A crowd of profligate women, the same who bestrode the cannon the day before, insulting the queen with the most abusive language, collected under the queen's windows, upon the terrace of the palace. Maria, hearing their outcries, came to the window. A furious termagant addressed her, telling her that she must dismiss all such courtiers as ruin kings, and that she must love the inhabitants of her good city. The queen replied,
"I have loved them at Versailles, and will also love them at Paris."
"Yes! yes!" answered another. "But you wanted to besiege the city and have it bombarded. And you wanted to fly to the frontiers and join the emigrants."
The queen mildly replied, "You have been told so, my friends, and have believed it, and that is the cause of the unhappiness of the people and of the best of kings."
Another addressed her in German, to which the queen answered, "I do not understand you. I have become so entirely French as even to have forgotten my mother tongue."
Bravos of the women.
At this they all clapped their hands, and shouted, "Bravo! bravo!" They then asked for the ribbons and flowers out of her hat. Her majesty unfastened them herself, and then tossed them out of the window to the women. They were received with great eagerness, and divided among the party; and for half an hour they kept up the incessant shout, "Maria Antoinette forever! Our good queen forever!"
Plan for the queen's escape.
In the course of a few weeks some of the devoted friends of the queen had matured a plan by whichherescape could be, without difficulty, effected. The queen, whose penetrating mind fully comprehended the peril of her situation, replied, while expressing the deepest gratitude to her friends for their kindness, "I will never leave either the king or my children. If I thought that I alone were obnoxious to public hatred, I would instantly offer my life as a sacrifice. But it is the throne which is aimed at. In abandoning the king, no other advantage can be obtained than merely saving my life; and I will never be guilty of such an act of cowardice."
Letter from the queen.
The following letter, which she wrote at this time to a friend, in reply to a letter of sympathy in reference to the outrage which had torn her from Versailles, will enable one to form a judgment of her situation and state of mind at that time. "I shed tears of affection on reading your sympathizing letter. You talk of my courage; it required much less to go through the dreadful crisis of that day than is now daily necessary to endure our situation, our own griefs, those of our friends, and those of the persons who surround us. This is a heavy weight to sustain; and but for the strong ties by which my heart is bound to my husband, my children, and my friends, I should wish to sink under it. But you bear me up. I ought to sacrifice such feelings to your friendship. But it is I who bring misfortune on you all, and all your troubles are on my account."
Her employments.The king's unwillingness to flee.
The queen now lived for some time in much retirement. She employed the mornings in superintending the education of her son and daughter, both of whom received all their lessons in her presence, and she endeavored to occupy her mind, continually agitated as it was by ever-recurring scenes of outrage and of danger, by working large pieces of tapestry. Shecould not sufficiently recall her thoughts from the anxieties which continually engrossed them to engage in reading. The king was extremely unwilling to seek protection in flight, lest the throne should be declared vacant, and he should thus lose his crown. He was ever hoping that affairs would soon take such a turn that harmony would be restored to his distracted kingdom. Maria Antoinette, however, who had a much more clear discernment of the true state of affairs, soon felt convinced that reconciliation, unless effected by the arm of power, was hopeless, and she exerted all her influence to rouse the king to vigorous measures for escape. While firmly resolved never to abandon her husband and her family to save her own life, she still became very anxious that all should endeavor to escape together.
Execution of the Marquis of Favras.Imprudence of some of the queen's friends.Her embarrassment.
About this time the Marquis of Favras was accused of having formed a plan for the rescue of the royal family. He was very hastily tried, the mob surrounding the tribunal and threatening the judges with instant death unless they should condemn him. He was sentenced to be hung, and was executed, surrounded by the insults and execrations of the populace of Paris. The marquis left a wife and a little boy overwhelmedwith grief and in hopeless poverty. On the following Sunday morning, some extremely injudicious friends of the queen, moved with sympathy for the desolated family, without consulting the queen upon the subject, presented the widow and the orphan in deepest mourning at court. The husband and father had fallen a sacrifice to his love for the queen and her family. The queen was extremely embarrassed. What course could she with safety pursue? If she should yield to the dictates of her own heart, and give expression to her emotions of sympathy and gratitude, she would rouse to still greater fury the indignation of the populace who were accusing her of the desire to escape, and who considered this desire as one of the greatest of crimes. Should she, on the other hand, surrender herself to the dictates of prudence, and neglect openly to manifest any special interest in their behalf, how severely must she be censured by the Loyalists for her ingratitude toward those who had been irretrievably ruined through their love for her.
The queen weeps.Present to Madame Favras.
The queen was extremely pained by this unexpected and impolitic presentation; for the fate of others, far dearer to her than her own life, were involved in her conduct. She withdrewfrom the painful scene to her private apartment, threw herself into a chair, and, weeping bitterly, said to an intimate friend, "We must perish! We are assailed by men who possess extraordinary talent, and who shrink from no crime. We are defended by those who have the kindest intentions, but who have no adequate idea of our situation. They have exposed me to the animosity of both parties by presenting to me the widow and the son of the Marquis of Favras. Were I free to act as my heart impels me, I should take the child of the man who has so nobly sacrificed himself for us, and adopt him as my own, and place him at the table between the king and myself. But, surrounded by the assassins who have destroyed his father, I did not dare even to cast my eyes upon him. The Royalists will blame me for not having appeared interested in this poor child. The Revolutionists will be enraged at the idea that his presentation should have been thought agreeable to me." The next day the queen sent, by a confidential friend, a purse of gold to Madame Favras, and assured her that she would ever watch, with the deepest interest, over her fortune and that of her son.
The king continues inactive.Plan of Count d'Inisdal.Indecision of the king.The queen's disappointment.Displeasure of Count d'Inisdal.
Innumerable plans were now formed for therescue of the royal family, and abandoned. The king could not be roused to energetic action. His passive courage was indomitable, but he could not be induced to act on the offensive, and, still hoping that by a spirit of conciliation he might win back the affections of his people, he was extremely reluctant to take any measures by which he should be arrayed in hostility against them. Maria, on the contrary, knew that decisive action alone could be of any avail. One night, about ten o'clock, the king and queen were sitting in their private apartment of the Tuileries, endeavoring to beguile the melancholy hours by a game of cards. The sister of the king, Madame Elizabeth, with a very pensive countenance, was kneeling upon a stool, by the side of the table, overlooking the game. A nobleman, Count d'Inisdal, devotedly attached to the fortunes of the royal family, entered, and, in a low tone of voice, informed the king and queen that a plan was already matured to rescue them that very night; that a section of the National Guard was gained over, that sets of fleet horses were placed in relays at suitable distances, that carriages were ready, and that now they only wanted the king's consent, and the scheme, at midnight, would be carried intoexecution. The king listened to every word without the movement of a muscle of his countenance, and, fixing his eyes upon the cards in his hand, as if paying no attention to what had been said, uttered not a syllable. For some time there was perfect silence. At last Maria Antoinette, who was extremely anxious that the king should avail himself of this opportunity for escape, broke the embarrassing silence by saying, "Do you hear, sir, what is said to us?" "Yes," replied the king, calmly, "I hear," and he continued his game. Again there was a long silence. The queen, extremely anxious and impatient, for the hour of midnight was drawing near, again interrupted the silence by saying earnestly, "But, sir, some reply must be made to this communication." The king paused for a moment, and then, still looking upon the cards in his hand, said, "The king can not consent to be carried off." Maria Antoinette was greatly disappointed at the want of decision and of magnanimity implied in this answer. She, however, said to the nobleman very eagerly, "Be careful and report this answer correctly, the king can notconsentto be carried off." The king's answer was doubtless intended as a tacit consent while he wished toavoid the responsibility of participating in the design. The count, however, was greatly displeased at this answer, and said to his associates, "I understand it perfectly. He is willing that we should seize and carry him, as if by violence, but wishes, in case of failure, to throw all the blame upon those who are periling their lives to save him." The queen hoped earnestly that the enterprise would not be abandoned, and sat up till after midnight preparing her cases of valuables, and anxiously watching for the coming of their deliverers. But the hours lingered away, and the morning dawned, and the palace was still their prison. The queen, shortly after, remarking upon this indecision of the king, said, "Wemustseek safety in flight. Our peril increases every day. No one can tell to what extremities these disturbances will lead."
An alarm.
La Fayette had informed the king, that, should he see any alarming movement among the disaffected, threatening the exposure of the royal family to new acts of violence, he would give them an intimation of their danger by the discharge of a few cannon from the battery upon the Pont Neuf. One night the report of guns from some casual discharge was heard, and the king, regarding it as the warning, in greatalarm flew to the apartments of the queen. She was not there. He passed hastily from room to room, and at last found her in the chamber of the dauphin, with her two children in her arms. "Madame," said the king to her, "I have been seeking you. I was very anxious about you." "You find me," replied the queen pointing to her children, "at my station."
Attempts to assassinate the queen.Removal to St. Cloud.Another plan for flight.It is abandoned.
Several unavailing attempts were made at this time to assassinate the queen. These discoveries, however, seemed to cause Maria no alarm, and she could not be induced to adopt any precautions for her personal safety. Rarely did a day pass in which she did not encounter, in some form, ignominy or insult. As the heat of summer came on, the royal family removed to the palace of St. Cloud without any opposition, though the National Guard followed them, professedly for their protection, but, in reality, to guard against their escape. Here another plan was formed for flight. The different members of the royal family, in disguise, were to meet in a wood four leagues from St. Cloud. Some friends of the royal family, who could be perfectly relied upon, were there to join them. A large carriage was to be in attendance, sufficient to conduct the whole family. The attendantsat the palace would have no suspicion of their escape until nine o'clock in the evening, as the royal carriages were frequently out until that hour, and it would then take some time to send to Paris to call together the National Assembly at midnight, and to send couriers to overtake the fugitives. Thus, with fleet horses and fresh relays, and having six or seven hours the start, the king and queen might hope to escape apprehension. The queen very highly approved of this plan, and was very anxious to have it carried into execution. But for some unknown reason, the attempt was relinquished.
Exhibitions of attachment.Emotions of the queen.
There were occasional exhibitions of strong individual attachment for the king and queen which would, for a moment, create the illusion that a reaction had commenced in the public mind. One day the queen was sitting in her apartment at St. Cloud, in the deepest dejection of spirits, mechanically working upon some tapestry to occupy the joyless and lingering hours. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The palace was deserted and silent. The very earth and sky seemed mourning in sympathy with the mourning queen. Suddenly, an unusual noise, as of many persons conversing in anunder tone, was heard beneath the window. The queen immediately rose and went to the window; for every unaccustomed sound was, in such perilous times, an occasion of alarm. Below the balcony, she saw a group of some fifty persons, men and women, from the country, apparently anxious to catch a glimpse of her. They were evidently humble people, dressed in the costume of peasants. As soon as they saw the queen, they gave utterance to the most passionate expressions of attachment and devotion. The queen, who had long been accustomed only to looks and words of defiance and insult, was entirely overpowered by these kind words, and could not refrain from bursting into tears. The sight of the weeping queen redoubled the affectionate emotions of the loyal group, and, with the utmost enthusiasm, they reiterated their assurances of love and their prayers for her safety. A lady of the queen's household, apprehensive that the scene might arrest the attention of the numerous spies who surrounded them, led her from the window. The affectionate group, appreciating the prudence of the measure, with tears of sympathy expressed their assent, and with prayers, tears, and benedictions retired. Maria was deeply touched by theseunwonted tones of kindness, and, throwing herself into her chair, sobbed with uncontrollable emotion. It was long before she could regain her accustomed composure.
The assassin in the garden.
Many unsuccessful attempts were made at this time to assassinate the queen. A wretch by the name of Rotondo succeeded one day in scaling the walls of the garden, and hid himself in the shrubbery, intending to stab the queen as she passed in her usual solitary promenade. A shower prevented the queen from going into the garden, and thus her life was saved. And yet, though the assassin was discovered and arrested, the hostility of the public toward the royal family was such that he was shielded from punishment.
Midnight interviews.Deliberations of the king's friends.
The king and queen occasionally held private interviews at midnight, with chosen friends, secretly introduced to the palace, in the apartment of the queen. And there, in low tones of voice, and fearful of detection by the numerous spies which infested the palace, they would deliberate upon their peril, and upon the innumerable plans suggested for their extrication. Some recommended the resort to violence; that the king should gather around him as many of his faithful subjects as possible, and settle the difficultiesby an immediate appeal to arms. Others urged further compromise, and the spirit of conciliation, hoping that the king might thus regain his lost popularity, and re-establish his tottering throne. Others urged, and Maria coincided most cordially in this opinion, that it was necessary for the royal family to escape from Paris immediately, which was the focus of disaffection, and at a safe distance, surrounded by their armed friends, to treat with their enemies and to compel them to reasonable terms. The indecision of the king, however, appeared to be an insuperable obstacle in the way of any decisive action.
Taunting gift.
One day a delegation appeared before the royal family from theconquerors of the Bastile, with a new year's gift for the young dauphin. The present consisted of a box of dominoes curiously wrought from the stone of which that celebrated state prison was built. It was an ingenious plan to insult the royal family under the pretense of respect and affection, for on the lid of the box there was engraved the following sentiment: "These stones, from the walls which inclosed the innocent victims of arbitrary power, have been converted into a toy, to be presented to you, monseigneur, as an homage ofthe people's love, and to teach you the extent of their power."
The king's aunts leave France.They are arrested.Exciting debate.The ladies permitted to depart.
About this time, the two aunts of the king left France, ostensibly for the purpose of travelling, but, in reality, as an experiment, to see what opposition would be made to prevent members of the royal family from leaving the kingdom. As soon as their intention was known, it excited the greatest popular ferment. A vast crowd of men and women assembled at the palace, to prevent, if possible, with lawless violence, their departure. It was merely two elderly ladies who wished to leave France, but the excitement pervaded even the army, and many of the soldiers joined the mob in the determination that they should not be permitted to depart. The traces of the carriages were cut, and the officers, who tried to protect the princesses, were nearly murdered. The whole nation was agitated by the attempts of these two peaceful ladies to visit Rome. When at some distance from Paris, they were arrested, and the report of their arrest was sent to the National Assembly. The king found the excitement so great, that he wrote a letter to the Assembly, informing them that his aunts wished to leave France to visit other countries, and that, thoughhe witnessed their separation from him and his family with much regret, he did not feel that he had any right to deprive them of the privilege which the humblest citizens enjoyed, of going whenever and wherever they pleased. The question of their detention was for a long time debated in the Assembly. "What right," said one, "have we to prohibit these ladies from traveling." "We have a law," another indignantly replied, "paramount to all others—the law which commands us to take care of the public safety." The debate was finally terminated by the caustic remark of a member who was ashamed of the protracted discussion. "Europe," said he, "will be greatly astonished, no doubt, on hearing that the National Assembly spent four hours in deliberating upon the departure of two ladies who preferred hearing mass at Rome rather than at Paris." The debate was thus terminated, and the ladies were permitted to depart.
Palace of St. Cloud.Palace of St. Cloud.
The royal family start for St. Cloud.They are compelled to return.
Early in the spring of 1791, the king and queen, who had been passing some time in Paris at the Tuileries, wished to return to their country seat at St. Cloud. Many members of the household had already gone there, and dinner was prepared for the royal family at the palacefor their reception. The carriages were at the door, and, as the king and queen were descending, a great tumult in the yard arrested their attention. They found that the guard, fearful that they might escape, had mutinied, and closed the door of the palace, declaring that they would not let them pass. Some of the personal friends of the king interposed in favor of the insulted captives, and endeavored to secure for them more respectful treatment. They were, however, seized by the infuriated soldiers, and narrowly escaped with their lives. The king and queen returned in humiliation to their apartments, feeling that their palace was indeed a prison. They, however, secretly did not regret the occurrence, as it made more public the indignities to which they were exposed, and would aid in justifying before the community any attempts they might hereafter make to escape.
Preparations for flight.Imprudence of the king and queen.Garments for the children.
The king had at length become thoroughly aroused to a sense of the desperate position of his affairs. But the royal family was watched so narrowly that it was now extremely difficult to make any preparations for departure; and the king and queen, both having been brought up surrounded by the luxuries and restraints of a palace, knew so little of the world, and yetwere so accustomed to have their own way, that they were entirely incapable of forming any judicious plan for themselves, and, at the same time, they were quite unwilling to adopt the views of their more intelligent friends. They began, however, notwithstanding the most earnest remonstrances, to make preparations for flight by providing themselves with every conceivable comfort for their exile. In vain did their friends assure them that they could purchase any thing they desired in any part of Europe; that such quantities of luggage would be only an encumbrance; that it was dangerous, under the eyes of their vigilant enemies, to be making such extensive preparations. Neither the king nor queen would heed such monitions. The queen persisted in her resolution to send to Brussels, piece by piece, all the articles of a complete and extensive wardrobe for herself and her children, to be ready for them there upon their arrival. Madame Campan, the intimate friend and companion of the queen, was extremely uneasy in view of this imprudence; but, as she could not dissuade the queen, she went out again and again, in the evening and in disguise, to purchase the necessary articles and have them made up. She adopted the precaution of purchasingbut few articles at any one shop, and of employing various seamstresses, lest suspicion should be excited. She had the garments made for the daughter of the queen, cut by the measure of another young lady who exactly resembled her in size. Gradually they thus filled one large trunk with clothing, which was sent to the dwelling of a lady, one of the friends of the queen, who was to convey it to Brussels.
The queen's dressing-case.The queen's diamonds and jewels.The faithful Leonard.
The queen had a very magnificent dressing-case, which cost twelve hundred dollars. This she also determined that she could not leave behind. It could not be taken from the palace, and sent away out of the country, without attracting attention, and leading at once to the conviction that the queen was to follow it. The queen, in her innocent simplicity of mankind, thought that the people could be blinded like children, by telling them that she intended to send it as a present to the Archduchess Christina. However, by the most earnest remonstrances of her friends, she was induced only so far to change her plan as to consent that thechargé d'affairesfrom Vienna should ask her at her toilet, and in the presence of all around her, to have just such a dressing-case made for the archduchess. This plan was carried intoexecution, and the dressing-case was thus publicly made; but, as it could not be finished in season, the queen sent her own dressing-case, saying that she would keep the new one herself. It, however, did not deceive the spies who surrounded the queen. They noticed all these preparations, and communicated them to the authorities. She also very deliberately collected all her diamonds and jewels in her private boudoir, and beguiled the anxious hours in inclosing them in cotton and packing them away. These diamonds, carefully boxed, were placed in the hands of the queen's hair-dresser, a man in whom she could confide, to be carried by him to Brussels. He faithfully fulfilled his trust. But one of the women of the queen, whom she did not suspect of treachery, but who was a spy of the Assembly, entered her boudoir by false keys when the queen was absent, and reported all these proceedings. The hair-dresser perished upon the scaffold for his fidelity. Let the name of Leonard be honored. The infamous informer has gone to oblivion, and we will not aid even to embalm her name in contempt.
1791
Increasing excitement.Inflammatory speech of Marat.
Theferment in the National Assembly was steadily and strongly increasing. Every day brought new rumors of the preparation of the emigrants to invade France, aided by the armies of monarchical Europe, and to desolate the rebellious empire with fire and sword. Tidings were floating upon every breeze, grossly exaggerated, of the designs of the king and queen to escape, to join the avenging army, and to wreak a terrible vengeance upon their country. Furious speeches were made in the Assembly and in the streets, to rouse to madness the people, now destitute of work and of bread. "Citizens," ferociously exclaimed Marat, "watch, with an eagle eye, that palace, the impenetrable den where plots are ripening against the people. There a perfidious queen lords it over a treacherous king, and rears the cubs of tyranny. Lawless priests there consecrate the arms which are to be bathed in the blood of the people. The genius of Austria is there, guided bythe Austrian Antoinette. The emigrants are there stimulated in their thirst for vengeance. Every night the nobility, with concealed daggers, steal into this den. They are knights of the poniard—assassins of the people. Why is not the property of emigrants confiscated—their houses burned—a price set upon their heads? The king is ready for flight. Watch! watch! a great blow is preparing—is ready to burst; if you do not prevent it by a counter blow more sudden, more terrible, the people and liberty are annihilated."
The king and queen resolve to fly.Effort's of the king's brother.Exasperation of the people.
The king and queen, in the apartments where they were virtually imprisoned, read these angry and inflammatory appeals, and both now felt that no further time was to be lost in attempting to effect their escape. It was known that the brother of the king, subsequently Charles X., was going from court to court in Europe, soliciting aid for the rescue of the illustrious prisoners. It was known that the King of Austria, brother of Maria Antoinette, had promised to send an army of thirty-five thousand men to unite with the emigrants at Coblentz in their march upon Paris. Every monarch in Europe was alarmed, in view of the instability of his own throne, should the rebellionof the people against the throne in France prove triumphant; and Spain, Prussia, Sardinia, Naples, and Switzerland had guaranteed equal forces to assist in the re-establishment of the French monarchy. It is not strange that the exasperation of the people should have been aroused, by the knowledge of these facts, beyond all bounds. And their leaders were aware that they were engaged in a conflict in which defeat was inevitable death.
Intention of the king.
The king had now resolved, if possible, to escape. He, however, declared that it never was his intention to join the emigrants and invade France with a foreign force. That, on the contrary, he strongly disapproved of the measures adopted by the emigrants as calculated only to increase the excitement against the throne, and to peril his cause. He declared that it was only his wish to escape from the scenes of violence, insult, and danger to which he was exposed in Paris, and somewhere on the frontiers of his kingdom to surround himself by his loyal subjects, and there endeavor amicably to adjust the difficulties which desolated the empire. The character of the king renders it most probable that such was his intention, and such has been the verdict of posterity.
Deliberations of the emigrants.Dangers thicken.
But there was another source of embarrassment which extremely troubled the royal family. The emigrants were deliberating upon the expediency of declaring the throne vacant by default of the king's liberty, and to nominate his brother M. le Comte d'Artois regent in his stead. The king greatly feared this moral forfeiture of the throne with which he was menaced under the pretense of delivering him. He was justly apprehensive that the advance of an invading army, under the banners of his brother, would be the signal for the immediate destruction of himself and family. Flight, consequently, had become his only refuge; and flight was encompassed with the most fearful perils. Long and agonizing were the months of deliberation in which the king and queen saw these dangers hourly accumulating around them, while each day the vigilance of their enemies were redoubled, and the chances of escape diminished.
The plan of flight.
The following plan was at last adopted for the flight. The royal family were to leave Paris at midnight in disguise, in two carriages, for Montmédy, on the frontiers of France and Germany, about two hundred miles from Paris. This town was within the limits of France, sothat the king could not be said to have fled from his kingdom. The nearest road and the great public thoroughfare led through the city of Rheims; but, as the king had been crowned there, he feared that he might meet some one by whom he would be recognized, and he therefore determined to take a more circuitous route, by by-roads and through small and unfrequented villages. Relays of horses were to be privately conveyed to all these villages, that the carriages might be drawn on with the greatest rapidity, and small detachments of soldiers were to be stationed at important posts, to resist any interruption which might possibly be attempted by the peasantry. The king also had a large carriage built privately, expressly for himself and his family, while certain necessary attendants were to follow in another.
The Marquis de Bouillé.The king refuses to change his plan.The Marquis d'Agoult.
The Marquis de Bouillé, who commanded a portion of the troops still faithful to the king, was the prime confidant and helper in this movement. He earnestly, but in vain, endeavored to induce the king to make some alterations in this plan. He entreated him, in the first place, not to excite suspicion by the use of a peculiar carriage constructed for his own use, but to make use of common carriages such as weredaily seen traversing the roads. He also besought him to travel by the common high way, where relays of horses were at all times ready by night and by day. He represented to the king that, should he take the unfrequented route, it would be necessary to send relays of horses beforehand to all these little villages; that so unusual an occurrence would attract attention and provoke inquiry. He urged also upon the king that detachments of troops sent along these solitary roads would excite curiosity, and would inevitably create suspicion. The king, however, self-willed, refused to heed these remonstrances, and persisted in his own plan. He, however, consented to take with him the Marquis d'Agoult, a man of great firmness and energy, to advise and assist in the unforeseen accidents which might embarrass the enterprise. He also reluctantly consented to ask the Emperor of Austria to make a threatening movement toward the frontier, which would be an excuse for the movement through these villages of detachments of French troops.
These arrangements made, the Marquis de Bouillé sent a faithful officer to take an accurate survey of the road, and present a report to the king. He then, under various pretexts,removed to a distance those troops who were known to be disaffected to the royal cause, and endeavored to gather along the line of flight those in whose loyalty he thought he could confide.
The Count de Fersen.His noble character.
At the palace of the Tuileries, the secret of the contemplated flight had been confided only to the king, the queen, the Princess Elizabeth, sister of the king, and two or three faithful attendants. The Count de Fersen, a most noble-spirited young gentleman from Sweden, most cheerfully periled his life in undertaking the exterior arrangements of this hazardous enterprise. He had often been admitted, in the happy days of Maria Antoinette, to the parties and fêtes which lent wings to the hours at the Little Trianon, and chivalrous admiration of her person and character induced him to consecrate himself with the most passionate devotion to her cause. Three soldiers of the body-guard, Valorg, Monstrei, and Maldan, were also received into confidence, and unhesitatingly engaged in an enterprise in which success was extremely problematical, and failure was certain death. They, disguised as servants, were to mount behind the carriages, and protect the royal family at all risks.
The king and queen leave the palace.The queen loses her way.Departure from Paris.Arrival at Bondy.Departure of the Count de Fersen.
The night of the 20th of June at length arrived, and the hearts of the royal inmates of the Tuileries throbbed violently as the hour approached which was to decide their destiny. At the hour of eleven, according to their custom, they took leave of those friends who were in the habit of paying their respects to them at that time, and dismissed their attendants as if to retire to their beds. As soon as they were alone, they hastily, and with trembling hands, dressed themselves in the disguises which had been prepared for their journey, and by different doors and at different times left the palace. It was the dark hour of midnight. The lights glimmered feebly from the lamps, but still there was the bustle of crowds coming and going in those ever-busy streets. The queen, in her traveling dress, leaning upon the arm of one of the body-guard, and leading her little daughter Maria Theresa by the hand, passed out at a door in the rear of the palace, and hastened through the Place du Carrousel, and, losing her way, crossed the Seine by the Pont Royal, and wandered for some time through the darkest and most obscure streets before she found the two hackney-coaches which were waiting for them at the Quai des Théatins. The king left the palacein a similar manner, leading his son Louis by the hand. He also lost his way in the unfrequented streets through which it was necessary for him to pass. The queen waited for half an hour in the most intense anxiety before the king arrived. At last, however, all were assembled, and, entering the hackney-coaches, the Count de Fersen, disguised as a coachman, leaped up on the box, and the wheels rattled over the pavements of the city as the royal family fled in this obscurity from their palace and their throne. The emotions excited in the bosoms of the illustrious fugitives were too intense, and the perils to which they were exposed too dreadful, to allow of any conversation. Grasping each other's hands, they sat in silence through the dark hours, with the gloomy remembrance of the past oppressing their spirits, and with the dread that the light of morning might introduce them to new disasters. A couple of hours of silence and gloom passed slowly away, and the coaches arrived at Bondy, the first stage from Paris. The gray dawn of the morning was just appearing in the east as they hurriedly changed their coaches for the large traveling carriage the king had ordered and another coach which there awaited them. Count de Fersen kissed thehands of the king and queen, and leaving them, according to previous arrangements, with their attendants, hastened the same night by another route to Brussels, in order to rejoin the royal family at a later period.
The king's carriages now rolled rapidly on toward Chalons, an important town on their route. The queen had assumed the title and character of a German baroness returning to Frankfort with her two children; the king was her valet de chambre, the Princess Elizabeth, the king's sister, was her waiting-maid. The passport was made out in the following manner: