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Marie  Antoinette 


AMD  *^ 

THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY 


BY 

IMBERT    DE    SAINT-AMAND 


TRANSLATED  BY 
ELIZABETH  GILBERT  MARTIN 


WITH  PORTRAIT 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1899 


f,  1891,  BY 
CBARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 

DC 


MANHATTAN  PRESS 

47*  W.  BSOADWAV 

NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTBR  PAfiB 

I.    Paris  at  the  Beginning  of  1792 1 

II.     Count  de  Person's  Last  Journey  to  Paris 14 

III.  The  Death  of  the  Emperor  Leopold 23 

IV.  The  Death  of  Gustavus  III 32 

V.     The  Beginnings  of  Madame   Roland 46 

VI.     Madame  Roland's  Entrance  on  the  Scene 60 

VII.     Marie  Antoinette  and  Madame  Roland 73 

VIII.  Madame  Roland  at  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior  ^^5 

IX.     Dumouriez,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 94 

X.     The  Council  of   Ministers 103 

XI.     The  FfiTE  of  the  Swiss  of  Chateauvieux 110 

XII.     The  Declaration  of  War 126 

XIII.  The  Disbanding  of  the  Constitutional  Guard.  . .  137 

XIV.  The  Sufferings  of  Louis  XVI 148 

XV,    Roland's  Dismissal  from   Office 158 

XVI.     A  Three  Days'  Ministry 166 

XVII.    The  Prologue  to  June  Twentieth 176 

XVIII.    The  Morning  of  June  Twentieth 186 

V 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEB  PAOS 

XIX.    The  Invasion  of  the  Tuileries 198 

XX,    Marie  Antoinette  on  June  Twentieth 210 

XXI.    The  Morrow  of  June  Twentieth 219 

XXII.    Lafayette  in  Paris 229 

XXIII.  The  Lamodrette  Kiss 239 

XXIV.  The  FSte  of  the  Federation  in  1792 24ir 

XXV.    The  Last  Days  at  the  Tdileries 259 

XXVI.    The  Prologue  to  the  Tenth  of  August 267 

XXVII.    The  Night  of  August  Ninth  to  Tenth 276 

XXVIII.    The  Morning  of  August  Tenth 284 

XXIX.    The  Box  of  the  Logograph 299 

XXX.    The  Combat 306 

XXXI.    The  Results  of  the  Combat 316 

XXXII.  The   Royal  Family   in   the   Convent   of  the 

Feuillants 329 

XXXIII.  The  Temple 337 

XXXIV.  The  Princess  de  Lamballe's  Murder 350 

XXXV.    The  September  Massacres 359 

XXXVI.    Madame  Roland  during  the  Massacres 372 

XXXVII.    The  Proclamation  of  the  Republic 384 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

AND 

THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 
I. 

PARIS  AT  THE  BEGINNING  OP  1792. 

PARIS  in  1792  is  no  longer  what  it  was  in  1789. 
In  1789,  the  old  French  society  was  still  brill- 
iant. The  past  endured  beside  the  present.  Neither 
names  nor  escutcheons,  neither  liveries  nor  places  at 
court,  had  been  suppressed.  The  aristocracy  and  the 
Revolution  lived  face  to  face.  In  1792,  the  scene  has 
changed.  The  Paris  of  the  nobility  is  no  longer  in 
Paris,  but  at  Coblentz.  The  Faubourg  Saint-Germain 
is  like  a  desert.  Since  June,  1790,  armorial  bearings 
have  been  taken  down.  The  blazons  of  ancient 
houses  have  been  broken  and  thrown  into  the  gut- 
ters. No  more  display,  no  more  liveries,  no  more 
carriages  with  coats-of-arms  on  their  panels.  Titles 
and  manorial  names  are  done  away  with.  The  Duke 
de  Brissac  is  called  M.  Coss^  ;  the  Duke  de  Cara- 
man,  M.  Riquet;  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon,  M.  Vig- 
nerot.  The  Almanack  royal  of  1792  mentions  not 
a  single  court  appointment. 

1 


THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 


In  1789,  it  was  still  an  exceptional  thing  for  the 
nobility  to  emigrate.  In  1792,  it  is  the  rule.  Those 
among  the  nobles  who  have  had  the  courage  to  re- 
main at  Paris  in  the  midst  of  the  furnace,  so  as  to 
make  a  rampart  for  the  King  of  their  bodies,  seem 
half  ashamed  of  their  generous  conduct.  The  illu- 
sions of  worldliness  have  been  dispelled.  Nearly 
every  salon  was  open  in  1789.  In  1792,  they  are 
nearly  all  closed;  those  of  the  magistrates  and  the 
great  capitalists  as  well  as  those  of  the  aristocracy. 
Etiquette  is  still  observed  at  the  Tuileries,  but 
there  is  no  question  of  fetes ;  no  balls,  no  concerts, 
none  of  that  elegance  and  animation  which  once 
made  the  court  a  rendezvous  of  pleasures.  In  1789, 
illusions,  dreams,  a  naive  expectation  of  the  age  of 
gold,  were  to  be  found  everywhere.  In  1792,  ec- 
logues and  pastoral  poetry  are  beginning  to  go  out 
of  fashion.  The  diapason  of  hatred  is  pitched 
higher.  Already  there  is  powder  and  a  smell  of 
blood  in  the  air.  A  general  instinct  forebodes  that 
France  and  Europe  are  on  the  verge  of  a  terrible 
duel.  On  both  sides  passions  have  touched  their 
culminating  point.  Distrust  and  uneasiness  are 
universal.  Every  day  the  despotism  of  the  clubs 
becomes  more  threatening.  The  Jacobins  do  not 
reign  yet,  but  they  govern.  Deputies  who,  if  left 
to  their  own  impulses,  would  vote  on  the  conserva- 
tive side,  pronounce  for  the  Revolution  solely 
through  fear  of  the  demagogues.  In  1789,  the 
religious  sentiment  still  retained  power  among  the 


PARTS  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  1793.  3 

masses.  In  1792,  irreligion  and  atheism  have 
wrought  their  havoc.  In  1789,  the  most  ardent 
revolutionists,  Marat,  Danton,  Robespierre,  were 
all  royalists.  At  the  beginning  of  1792,  the  repub- 
lic begins  to  show  its  face  beneath  the  monarchical 
mask. 

The  Tuileries,  menaced  by  the  neighboring  lanes 
of  the  Carrousel  and  the  Palais  Royal,  resembles  a 
besieged  fortress.  The  Revolution  daily  augments  its 
trenches  and  parallels  around  the  sanctuary  of  the 
monarchy.  Its  barracks  are  the  faubourgs ;  its  sol- 
diers, red-bonneted  pikemen.  Louis  XVI.  in  his 
palace  is  like  a  general-in-chief  in  a  stronghold,  who 
should  have  voluntarily  dampened  his  powder,  spiked 
his  cannon,  and  torn  his  flags.  He  no  longer 
inspires  his  troops  with  confidence.  A  capitulation 
seems  imminent.  The  unfortunate  monarch  still 
hopes  vaguely  for  assistance  from  abroad,  for  the 
arrival  of  some  liberating  army.  Vain  hope!  He 
is  blockaded  in  his  castle,  and  the  moment  is  at 
hand  when  he  will  be  compelled  to  play  the  buffoon 
in  a  red  bonnet. 

Glance  at  the  palace  and  see  how  closely  it  is 
hemmed  in  by  the  earthworks  of  the  Revolution. 
The  abode  of  luxury  and  display,  intended  for  fStes 
rather  than  for  war,  Philibert  Delorme's  chef- 
d'oeuvre  has  in  its  architecture  none  of  those  means 
of  defence  by  which  the  military  and  feudal  sover- 
eignties of  old  times  fortified  their  dwellings.  On 
the   side   of    the   courtyards   a   multitude   of    little 


THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROTALTT. 


streets  contain  a  hostile  population  ready  to  swell 
every  riot.  Near  the  Pavilion  of  Marsan  is  the 
Palais  Royal,  that  headquarters  of  insurrection, 
with  its  caf ^s,  its  gambling-dens,  its  houses  of  ill- 
fame,  its  wooden  galleries  which  are  known  as  the 
camp  of  the  Tartars.  It  is  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
who  has  democratized  the  Palais  Royal.  In  spite  of 
the  sarcasms  of  the  aristocracy  and  the  lawsuits  of 
neighboring  proprietors,  he  has  destroyed  the  fine 
gardens  bounded  by  the  rue  de  Richelieu,  the  rue  des 
Petit-Champs,  and  the  rue  des  Bons-Enfants.  In 
the  place  it  occupied  he  has  caused  the  rue  de  Valois, 
the  rue  de  Beaujolais,  and  the  rue  de  Montpensier 
to  be  opened,  all  of  them  inhabited  by  a  revolutionary- 
population.  The  remaining  space  he  has  surrounded 
on  three  sides  with  constructions  pierced  by  galler- 
ies, where  he  has  built  the  shops  that  form  the  finest 
bazaar  in  Europe.  The  fourth  side  of  these  new  con- 
structions was  originally  intended  to  form  part  of 
the  Prince's  palace,  and  to  be  composed  of  an  open 
colonnade  supporting  suites  of  apartments.  But  this 
side  has  not  been  erected.  In  place  of  it  the  Duke 
of  Orleans  has  run  up  some  temporary  wooden  sheds, 
containing  three  rows  of  shops  separated  by  two 
large  passage-ways,  the  ground  of  which  has  not 
even  been  made  level. 

The  privileges  pertaining  to  the  Orleans  family 
prevent  the  police  from  entering  the  enclosure  of 
the  Palais  Royal.  Hence  it  becomes  the  rendezvous 
of  all  conspirators.     The  taking  of  the  Bastille  was 


PABI8  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  1792.  5 

plotted  there,  and  there  the  20th  of  June  and  the 
10th  of  August  will  yet  be  organized. 

A  little  further  off  is  the  National  Assembly.  Its 
sessions  are  held  in  the  riding-school  built  when 
the  little  Louis  XV.  was  to  be  taught  horseman- 
ship. It  adjoins  the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants.  One 
of  its  courtyards  which  looks  towards  the  front  of  the 
edifice,  is  at  the  upper  end  of  the  rue  de  Dauphin. 
The  other  extremity  occupies  the  site  whcr-^  the  rue 
Castiglione  will  be  opened  later  on.  There,  close 
beside  the  Tuileries,  sits  the  National  Assembly, 
the  rival  and  victorious  power  that  will  overcome 
the  monarchy. 

The  Assembly  terrorizes  the  Tuileries.  The  Jac- 
obin Club  terrorizes  the  Assembly.  Close  beside 
the  Hall  of  the  Manage,  on  the  site  to  be  occupied 
afterward  by  the  market  of  Saint-Honord,  the  revo- 
lutionary club  holds  its  tumultuous  sessions  in  the 
former  convent  founded  in  1611  by  the  Jacobin,  or 
Dominican,  friarso  The  club  meets  three  times  a 
week,  at  seven  in  the  evening.  The  hall  is  a  long 
rectangle  with  a  vaulted  roof.  Four  rows  of  stalls 
occupy  the  longer  sides,  while  the  two  ends  serve 
as  public  galleries.  Nearly  in  the  middle  of  the 
hall,  the  speaker's  platform  and  the  president's 
writing-table  stand  opposite  each  other.  Hither 
come  all  ambitious  revolutionists  who  desire  to  talk, 
to  agitate,  to  make  themselves  conspicuous.  Here 
Robespierre  lords  it,  not  being  a  deputy  in  conse- 
quence of  the  law  forbidding  members  of  the  Con- 


6  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

stituent  Assembly  to  belong  to  the  legislative  body. 
Those  who  love  disorder  come  here  to  seek  emotions. 
Some  find  lucrative  employment,  applause  being 
paid  for,  and  the  different  parties  having  each  its 
claque  in  the  galleries.  Since  April,  1791,  the  Jaco- 
bin Club  has  affiliations  in  two  thousand  French 
towns  and  villages.  At  its  orders  and  in  its  pay  is 
an  army  of  agents  whose  business  it  is  to  make 
stump  speeches,  to  sing  in  the  streets,  to  make  prop- 
ositions in  cafes,  to  applaud  or  to  hiss  in  the  gal- 
leries of  the  National  Assembly.  These  hirelings 
usually  receive  about  five  francs  a  day,  but  as  the 
number  of  the  chevaliers  of  the  revolutionary  lus- 
trum increases,  the  pay  diminishes,  until  it  is  finally 
reduced  to  forty  sous.  Deserters  and  soldiers  dis- 
missed from  their  regiments  for  misconduct  are 
admitted  by  preference. 

For  some  days  past,  the  Club  of  Moderate  Revolu- 
tionists, friends  of  Lafayette,  who  might  have  closed 
the  old  clubs  after  the  sanguinary  repression  of  the 
riot  in  the  Champ-de-Mars,  and  who  contented  them- 
selves with  opening  a  new  one,  have  been  meeting 
in  the  convent  of  the  Feuillants,  rue  Saint-Honor^. 
But  this  new  club  has  not  been  a  great  success; 
moderation  is  not  the  order  of  the  day;  the  Jacobins 
have  regained  their  empire,  and  on  December  26, 
1791,  seals  are  placed  on  the  door  of  the  Club  of  the 
Feuillants. 

At  the  other  extremity  of  Paris  there  is  a  club 
still  more  inflammatory  than  that  of  the  Jacobins: 


PARIS  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  1793,  7 

that  of  the  Cordeliers.  "The  Jacobins,"  said  Bar- 
baroux,  "  have  no  common  aim,  although  they  act  in 
concert.  The  Cordeliers  are  bent  on  blood,  gold, 
and  offices."  Speaking  as  a  rule,  the  Cordeliers 
belong  to  the  Jacobin  Club,  while  hardly  a  single 
Jacobin  is  a  Cordelier.  The  Cordeliers  are  the 
advance-guard  of  the  Revolution.  They  are,  as 
Camille  Desmoulins  has  said,  Jacobins  of  the  Jaco- 
bins. The  chiefs  are  Dan  ton,  Marat,  Hubert,  Chau- 
mette.  They  take  their  names  from  those  religious 
democrats,  the  Minorite  friars  of  Saint  Francis,  who 
wear  a  girdle  of  rope  over  their  coarse  gray  habit. 
They  meet  in  the  Place  of  the  School  of  Medicine, 
in  a  monastery  whose  church  was  built  in  the  reign 
of  Saint  Louis,  in  1259,  with  the  fine  paid  as  indem- 
nity for  a  murder.  In  1590,  it  became  the  resort  of  the 
most  famous  Leaguers.  Chateaubriand  says :  "  There 
are  places  which  seem  to  be  the  laboratory  of  sedi- 
tions." How  well  this  expression  of  the  author  of 
the  MSmoires  d^ Outre-tomb e  describes  the  club-room 
of  the  Cordeliers !  The  pictures,  the  sculptured  or 
painted  images,  the  veils  and  curtains  of  the  convent, 
have  been  torn  down.  The  basilica  displays  noth- 
ing but  its  bare  bones  to  the  eyes  of  the  spectator. 
At  the  apse,  where  wind  and  rain  enter  through 
the  ungi  zed  rose-window,  joiners'  work-benches 
serve  as  a  desk  for  the  president  and  as  places  on 
which  to  d  posit  the  red  caps.  Do  you  see  the  fallen 
beams,  the  wooden  benches,  the  dismantled  stalls, 
the  relics  of  saints  pushed  or  rolled  against  the  walls 


8  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

to  serve  as  benches  for  "dirty,  dusty,  drunken, 
sweaty  spectators  in  torn  jackets,  pikes  on  their 
shoulders,  or  with  their  bare  arms  crossed"?  Do 
you  hear  the  orators  who  "  call  each  other  beggars, 
pickpockets,  robbers,  assassins,  to  the  discordant 
noise  of  hisses  and  those  proper  to  their  different 
groups  of  devils?  They  find  the  material  of  their, 
metaphors  in  murder,  they  borrow  them  from  the 
filthiest  of  sewers  and  dungheaps,  and  from  places 
set  apart  for  the  prostitution  of  men  and  women. 
Gestures  render  their  figures  of  speech  more  compre- 
hensible ;  with  the  cynicism  of  dogs,  they  call  every- 
thing by  its  own  name,  in  an  impious  and  obscene 
parade  of  oaths  and  curses.  To  destroy  and  to  pro- 
duce, death  and  generation,  nothing  'else  can  be 
disentangled  from  the  savage  jargon  which  deafens 
one's  ears."  And  what  is  it  that  interrupts  the 
speakers?  "The  little  black  owls  of  the  cloister 
without  monks  and  the  steeple  without  bells,  mak- 
ing themselves  merry  in  the  broken  windows  in 
expectation  of  their  prey.  At  first  they  are  called 
to  order  by  the  tinkling  of  an  ineffectual  bell ;  but 
as  their  cries  do  not  cease,  they  are  shot  at  to  make 
them  keep  silence.  They  fall,  palpitating,  bleeding, 
and  ominous,  into  the  midst  of  the  pandemonium. " 
So,  then,  clubs  take  the  place  of  convents.  Since 
the  Constituent  Assembly  had  decreed  the  abolition 
of  monastic  vows  by  its  vote  of  February  13,  1790, 
many  persons,  rudely  detached  from  their  usual  way 
of  life  and  its  duties,  had  abandoned  their  vocation. 


PARIS  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  1792.  9 

The  nun  became  a  working-woman ;  the  shaved  Cap- 
uchin read  his  journal  in  suburban  taverns;  and 
grinning  crowds  visited  the  profaned  and  open  con- 
vents "as,  in  Grenada,  travellers  pass  through  the 
abandoned  halls  of  the  Alhambra,  or  as  they  pause, 
at  Tivoli,  under  the  columns  of  the  Sibyl's  temple." 

The  Jacobin  Club  and  the  Club  of  the  Cordeliers 
will  destroy  the  monarchy.  In  the  Memoirs  of 
Lafayette  it  is  remarked  that  "it  is  hard  to  under- 
stand how  the  Jacobin  minority  and  a  rxandful  of 
pretended  Marseillais  made  themselves  masters  of 
Paris  when  nearly  all  the  forty  thousand  citizens 
composing  the  National  Guard  desired  the  Constitu- 
tion; but  the  clubs  had  succeeded  in  scattering  the 
true  patriots  and  in  creating  a  dread  of  vigorous 
measures.  Experience  had  not  yet  taught  what  this 
feebleness  and  disorganization  must  needs  cost." 

The  dark  side  of  the  picture  is  plainly  far  more 
evident  than  it  was  in  1789.  But  how  vivid  it  is 
still !  Those  who  hunger  after  sensations  are  in  their 
element.  When  has  there  been  more  noise,  more 
tumult,  more  movement,  more  unexpected  or  more 
varied  scenes?  Listen  once  more  to  Chateaubriand 
who,  on  his  return  from  America,  passed  through 
Paris  at  this  epoch :  "  When  I  read  the  Histoire  des 
troubles  publics  ches  divers  peuples  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, I  could  not  conceive  how  it  was  possible  to  live 
in  those  times.  I  was  surprised  that  Montaigne 
wrote  so  cheerfully  in  a  castle  which  he  could  not 
walk  around  without  risk  of  being  abducted  by  bands 


10  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

of  Leaguers  or  Protestants.  The  Revolution  has  en- 
abled me  to  comprehend  this  possibility  of  existence. 
With  us  men,  critical  moments  produce  an  increase 
of  life.  In  a  society  which  is  dissolving  and  form- 
ing itself  anew,  the  strife  between  the  two  ten- 
dencies, the  collision  of  the  past  and  the  future,  the 
medley  of  ancient  and  modern  manners,  form  a  tran- 
sitory combination  which  does  not  admit  a  moment 
of  ennui.  Passions  and  characters,  freed  from 
restraint,  display  themselves  with  an  energy  they 
do  not  possess  in  well-regulated  cities.  The  infrac- 
tion of  laws,  the  emancipation  from  duties,  usages, 
and  the  rules  of  decorum,  even  perils  themselves, 
increase  the  interest  of  this  disorder." 

Yes,  people  complain,  grow  angry,  suffer,  but 
they  are  not  bored.  How  many  incidents,  episodes, 
emotions,  there  are  in  this  strange  tragi-comedy ! 
Everywhere  there  is  something  to  be  seen;  in  the 
Assembly,  the  clubs,  the  public  places,  the  prome- 
nades, streets,  caf^s,  and  theatres.  Brawls  and 
discussions  are  heard  on  every  side.  If  by  chance  a 
salon  is  still  open,  disputes  go  on  there  as  they 
would  at  a  club.  What  quarrels  take  place  in  the 
caf^s!  Men  stand  on  chairs  and  tables  to  spout. 
And  what  dissensions  in  the  theatres !  The  actors 
meddle  with  politics  as  well  as  the  spectators.  In 
the  greenroom  of  the  ComSdie-Frangaise  there  is  a 
right  side,  whose  chief  is  the  royalist  Naudet,  and  a 
left  side  led  by  the  republican  Talma.  Neither.actor 
goes    out    except  well    armed.     There   are   pistols 


PARIS  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  1792.  11 

underneath  their  togas.  The  kings  of  tragedy, 
threatened  by  their  political  adversaries,  have  real 
poniards  wherewith  to  defend  themselves.  Les 
Horaces^  Brutus,  La  Mort  de  CSsar,  Barnevelt,  G-uil- 
laume  Tell,  Charles  IX.,  are  plays  containing  in 
each  tirade  allusions  which  inflame  the  boxes  and 
the  pit.  The  theatre  is  a  tilting-ground.  If  the 
royalists  are  there  in  force,  they  cause  the  orchestra 
to  play  their  favorite  airs:  Charmante  Crahrielle, 
Vive  Henri  Quatre  !  0 1  Richard,  0  !  mon  roi !  The 
revolutionists  protest,  and  sing  their  own  chosen 
melody,  the  Ca  ira.  Sometimes  they  come  to  blows, 
swords  are  drawn,  and,  the  play  over,  elegant  women 
are  dragged  through  the  gutters.  There  is  a  general 
outbreak  of  insults  and  violence.  The  journals  play 
the  chief  part  in  this  universal  madness.  Some- 
times the  press  is  eloquent,  but  it  is  oftener  ribald 
or  atrocious.  To  borrow  an  expression  from  Mon- 
taigne, "it  lowers  itself  even  to  the  worthless 
esteem  of  extreme  inferiority."  The  beautiful 
French  tongue,  once  so  correct  and  pure,  is  no 
longer  recognizable.  Vulgar  words  fall  thick  as 
hail.  To  the  language  of  the  Academy  has  suc- 
ceeded the  jargon  of  the  markets. 

What  a  swarm!  what  a  swirl!  How  noisy,  how 
restless,  is  this  revolutionary  Paris !  What  excited 
crowds  fill  the  clubs,  the  Assembly,  the  Palais 
Royal,  the  gambling-houses,  and  the  tumultuous 
faubourgs!  Riotous  gatherings,  popular  deputa- 
tions, detachments  of   cavalry,   companies   of  foot- 


12  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

soldiers ;  gentlemen  in  French  coats,  powdered  hair, 
swords  at  their  sides,  hats  under  their  arms,  silk 
stockings  and  low  shoes;  democrats  close-cropped 
and  unpowdered,  with  English  frock  coats  and 
American  cravats;  ragged  sans-culottes  in  red  caps, 
weave  in  and  out  in  ceaseless  motion. 

Do  you  know  what  was  the  chief  distraction  of 
this  crowd  in  April,  1792?  The  d^but  of  that  new 
and  fashionable  machine,  the  guillotine.  It  was 
used  for  the  first  time  on  the  25th,  for  a  criminal 
guilty  of  rape.  Sensitive  people  congratulated  each 
other  on  the  mitigated  torment,  which  they  were 
pleased  to  consider  a  humanitarian  improvement. 
The  excellent  philanthropist.  Doctor  Guillotin,  was 
lauded  to  the  skies.  His  machine  was  named  guil- 
lotine in  his  honor,  just  as  the  stage-coaches 
established  by  Turgot  had  been  called  turgotines. 

What  enthusiasm,  what  infatuation,  for  this  guil- 
lotine, already  so  famous  and  destined  to  be  so 
much  more  so !  The  editors  of  the  Moniteur  declare 
in  a  lyric  outburst  that  it  is  worthy  of  the  approach- 
ing century.  The  truth  is  that  it  accelerates  and 
makes  less  difficult  the  executioner's  task.  In  the 
end  the  crowd  would  become  disgusted  with  massa- 
cres. The  delays  of  the  gibbet  would  weary  their 
patience.  The  sans-culottes,  who  doubtless  have  a 
presentiment  of  all  that  is  going  to  happen,  wel- 
come the  guillotine,  then,  with  acclamations.  At 
the  Ambigu  theatre  a  ballet-pantomime,  called  Les 
Quatre  Fils  Aymon,  is  given,  and  all  Paris  runs  to 


PARIS  AT  THE  BEGINNING   OF  179$.  13 

see  the  heads  of  all  four  fall  at  once,  in  the  midst  of 
loud  applause,  under  the  blade  of  the  good  doctor's 
machine.  People  amuse  themselves  with  their  fut- 
ure instrument  of  torture  as  if  it  were  a  toy.  In  a 
Girondin  salon  they  play  at  guillotine  with  a  move= 
able  screen  that  is  lifted  and  let  fall  again.  At 
elegant  dinners  a  little  guillotine  is  brought  in  with 
the  dessert  and  takes  the  place  of  a  sweet  dish.  A 
pretty  woman  places  a  doll  representing  some  polit- 
ical adversary  under  the  knife ;  it  is  decapitated  in 
the  neatest  possible  style,  and  out  of  it  runs  some- 
thing red  that  smells  good,  a  liqueur  perfumed  with 
ambergris,  into  which  every  lady  hastens  to  dip  her 
lace  handkerchief.  French  gaiety  would  make  a 
vaudeville  out  of  the  day  of  judgment.  Poor  soci- 
ety, which  passes  so  quick  from  gay  to  grave,  from 
lively  to  severe,  and  which,  like  the  Figaro  of 
Beaumarchais,  laughs  at  everything  so  that  it  may 
not  weep  J 


n. 

COUNT  DE  FERSEN'S  LAST  JOURNEY  TO  PARIS. 

IT  has  been  supposed  until  lately  that  after  the 
day  when  he  bade  farewell  to  the  royal  family 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Varennes  journey,  Count  de 
Fersen  never  again  saw  Marie  Antoinette.  A  new 
publication  of  very  great  importance  proves  that  this 
is  an  error,  and  that  the  Swedish  nobleman  came 
to  Paris  for  the  last  time  in  1792,  and  had  several 
interviews  with  the  King  and  Queen.  This  publi- 
cation is  entitled:  Extraits  des  papiers  du  grand 
marSchal  de  Suede,  Comte  Jean  Axel  de  Fersen,  and 
is  published  by  his  great-nephew.  Baron  de  Kinck- 
owstrom,  a  Swedish  colonel.  There  is  something 
romantic  in  this  episode  of  the  mysterious  journey 
made  by  Marie  Antoinette's  loyal  chevalier,  which 
merits  to  leave  a  trace  in  history. 

Fersen  was  one  of  those  men  whose  sentiments 
are  all  the  more  profound  because  they  know  how  to 
veil  them  under  an  apparently  imperturbable  calm. 
A  soul  of  fire  under  an  exterior  of  ice,  as  the  Baron- 
ess de  Korff  describes  him,  courageous  to  temerity, 
devoted  to  heroism,  he  had  conceived  for  Marie 
Antoinette  one  of  those  disinterested  and  ardent 
14 


BE  FERSEN'S  LAST  JOURNEY  TO  PARIS.      15 

friendships  which  lie  midway  between  love  and 
religion.  Almost  as  much  a  Frenchman  as  he  was 
a  Swede,  he  did  not  forget  that  he  had  fought  in 
America  under  the  standard  of  the  Most  Christian 
King,  and  had  been  colonel  of  a  regiment  in  the 
service  of  France.  Having  been  the  courtier  of  the 
happy  and  brilliant  Queen,  he  remained  the  court- 
ier of  the  Queen  overcome  by  anguish.  He  had 
enkindled  in  the  soul  of  his  sovereign,  Gustavus 
III.,  the  same  chivalrous  sentiment  which  animated 
his  own,  and  was  impatiently  awaiting  the  time 
when  he  could  hasten  to  the  aid  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
Marie  Antoinette  under  the  Swedish  flag.  His 
dearest  ambition  was  to  draw  his  sword  in  the 
Queen's  defence.  From  the  Varennes  journey  up 
to  the  day  of  Marie  Antoinette's  execution,  he  had 
but  one  thought:  to  rescue  the  woman  for  whom  he 
would  willingly  have  shed  the  last  drop  of  his 
blood.  This  fixed  idea  has  left  its  trace  on  every 
line  of  his  journal.  The  sad  and  melancholy  coun- 
tenance of  Fersen,  the  courtier  of  misfortune,  the 
friend  of  unhappy  days,  is  assuredly  one  of  the  cele- 
brated types  in  the  drama  of  Versailles  and  the 
Tuileries.  This  man,  who  would  have  made  no 
mark  in  history  but  for  the  martyr  Queen,  is  cer- 
tain, thanks  to  her,  not  to  be  forgotten  by  posterity. 
Marie  Antoinette  was  to  return  him  in  glory  what 
he  gave  her  in  devotion. 

On  her  return   to  the  Tuileries  after  the  disas- 
trous   journey  to   Varennes,    the    Queen   wrote   to 


16  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Fersen,  Jmie  27,  1791:  "Be  at  ease  about  us;  we 
are  living,"  and  Fersen  replied:  "I  am  well,  and 
live  only  to  serve  you."  June  29,  she  wrote  him 
another  letter  in  which  she  said :  "  Do  not  write  to 
me;  it  would  endanger  us;  and,  above  all,  do  not 
return  here  under  any  pretext ;  all  would  be  lost  if 
you  should  make  your  appearance.  They  never  lose 
sight  of  us  by  night  or  day;  which  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  me.  Be  tranquil ;  nothing  will  hap- 
pen to  me.  The  Assembly  desires  to  treat  us  with 
gentleness.  Adieu.  I  shall  not  be  able  to  write  to 
you  again." 

Marie  Antoinette  was  in  error  when  she  supposed 
she  would  not  write  again.  She  was  in  error,  like- 
wise, when  she  imagined  that  Fersen,  in  spite  of 
all  dangers  and  difficulties,  would  not  find  means  to 
see  her  again.  Their  correspondence  was  not  inter- 
rupted. After  the  acceptance  of  the  Constitution, 
Marie  Antoinette  wrote  to  him:  "Can  you  under- 
stand my  position  and  the  part  I  am  continually 
obliged  to  play?  Sometimes  I  do  not  understand 
myself,  and  am  obliged  to  consider  whether  it  is 
really  I  who  am  speaking ;  but  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
It  is  all  necessary,  and  be  sure  our  position  would 
be  still  worse  than  it  is  if  I  had  not  at  once  assumed 
this  attitude ;  we  at  least  gain  time  by  it,  and  that 
is  all  that  is  required.  I  keep  up  better  than  could 
be  expected,  seeing  that  I  go  out  so  little  and 
endure  constantly  such  immense  fatigue  of  mind. 
What  with  the  persons  whom  I  must  see,  my  writ- 


BE  FEBSEN'S  LAST  JOUBNEY  TO  PABI8.       17 

ing,  and  the  time  I  spend  with  my  children,  I 
have  not  a  moment  to  myself.  The  last  occupation, 
which  is  not  the  least,  gives  me  my  sole  happiness. 
When  I  am  very  sad,  I  take  my  little  boy  in  my 
arms,  embrace  him  with  my  whole  heart,  and  for  a 
moment  am  consoled." 

Fersen,  touched  and  pitying,  was  constantly 
thinking  of  that  fatal  palace  of  the  Tuileries  where 
the  Queen  was  so  much  to  be  compassionated.  An 
invincible  attraction  drew  him  thither.  There,  he 
thought,  was  the  post  of  devotion  and  of  honor. 
November  26,  he  wrote :  "  Tell  me  whether  there  is 
any  possibility  of  going  to  see  you  entirely  alone, 
without  a  servant,  in  case  I  receive  the  order  to  do 
so  from  the  King  (Gustavus  III.);  he  has  already 
spoken  to  me  of  his  desire  to  bring  this  about." 
Of  all  the  sovereigns  who  interested  themselves  in 
the  fate  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette, 
Gustavus  was  the  most  active,  brave,  and  resolute; 
he  was  also  the  only  one  in  whom  Marie  Antoinette 
placed  absolute  confidence.  She  expected  less  from 
her  own  brother,  the  Emperor  Leopold,  and  it  was 
to  Stockholm  above  all  that  she  turned  her  eyes. 
Gustavus  ordered  Fersen  to  go  secretly  to  Paris,  and 
on  December  22,  1791,  he  sent  him  a  memoir  and 
certain  letters,  commissioning  him  to  deliver  them 
to  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette.  He  recom- 
mended, as  forcibly  as  he  could,  a  new  attempt  at 
flight,  but  with  precautions  suggested  by  the  lesson 
of  Varennes.     He  thought  the  members  of  the  royal 


18  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

family  should  depart  separately  and  in  disguise,  and 
that,  once  outside  of  his  kingdom,  Louis  XVI. 
should  call  for  the  intervention  of  a  congress.  The 
following  passage  occurs  in  the  letter  of  the  Swedish 
King  to  Marie  Antoinette :  "  I  beg  Your  Majesty  to 
consider  seriously  that  violent  disorders  can  only 
be  cured  by  violent  remedies,  and  that  if  moderation 
is  a  virtue  in  the  course  of  ordinary  life,  it  often 
becomes  a  vice  when  there  is  question  of  public 
matters.  The  King  of  France  can  re-establish  his 
dominion  only  by  resuming  his  former  rights ;  every 
other  remedy  is  illusory ;  anjiihing  except  this  would 
merely  open  the  way  to  endless  discussions  which 
would  augment  the  confusion  instead  of  ending  it. 
The  King's  rights  were  torn  from  him  by  the  sword; 
it  is  by  the  sword  that  they  must  be  reconquered. 
But  I  refrain ;  I  should  remember  that  I  am  address- 
ing a  princess  who,  in  the  most  terrible  moments  of 
her  life,  has  shown  the  most  intrepid  courage." 

Fersen  obtained  permission  from  Louis  XVI.  to 
accomplish  the  mission  confided  to  him  by  Gustavus 
III.  He  left  Stockholm  under  an  assumed  name 
and  with  the  passport  of  a  Swedish  courier,  and 
reached  Paris  without  accident,  February  13,  1792. 
He  was  so  adroit  and  prudent  that  no  one  suspected 
his  presence.  On  the  very  evening  of  his  arrival 
he  wrote  in  his  journal:  "Went  to  the  Queen  by 
my  usual  road ;  very  few  National  Guards ;  did  not 
see  the  King."  Fersen,  therefore,  only  reappeared 
at  the  Tuileries  in  the  darkness,  like  a  fugitive  or 


BE  FEBSEN'8  LAST  JOURNEY  TO  PARIS.      19 

an  outlaw.  He  found  the  Queen  pale  with  grief 
and  with  hair  whitened  by  sorrow  and  emotion.  It 
was  a  solemn  moment.  The  storm  was  raging 
within  France  and  beyond  it.  Terrible  omens, 
snares,  and  dangers  lay  on  every  side.  One  might 
have  said  that  the  Tuileries  were  about  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  a  gulf  of  fire  and  blood. 

The  next  day  Fersen  saw  the  King.  He  wrote 
in  his  journal:  "Tuesday,  14.  Saw  the  King  at 
six  in  the  evening.  He  will  not  go  and  can  not, 
on  account  of  the  extreme  vigilance.  In  fact,  he 
scruples  at  it,  having  so  often  promised  to  remain, 
for  he  is  an  honest  man.  .  .  .  He  sees  that  force 
is  the  only  resource ;  but,  being  weak,  he  thinks  it 
impossible  to  resume  all  his  authority.  .  .  .  Un- 
less he  were  constantly  encouraged,  I  am  not  sure 
he  would  not  be  tempted  to  negotiate  with  the 
rebels.  He  said  to  me  afterwards:  'That's  all  very 
well!  We  are  by  ourselves  and  we  can  talk;  but 
nobody  ever  found  himself  in  my  position.  I  know 
I  missed  the  right  moment ;  it  was  the  14th  of  July ; 
we  ought  to  have  gone  then,  and  I  wanted  to,  but 
how  could  I  when  Monsieur  himself  begged  me  to 
stay,  and  Marshal  de  Broglie,  who  was  in  command, 
said  to  me:  "Yes,  we  can  go  to  Metz.  But  what 
shall  we  do  when  we  get  there  ?  "  I  lost  the  oppor- 
tunity and  never  found  it  again.  I  have  been  aban- 
doned by  everybody. '  "  Louis  XVI.  desired  Fersen 
to  warn  the  Powers  that  they  must  not  be  surprised 
at  anything  he  might  be  forced  to  do ;  that  he  was 


20  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

obliged,  that  it  was  the  effect  of  constraint.  "  They 
must  put  me  out  of  the  question,"  he  added,  "and 
let  me  do  what  I  can." 

Fersen  had  a  long  talk  with  Marie  Antoinette  the 
same  day.  She  entered  into  full  details  aboi\t  the 
present  and  especially  about  the  past.  She  ex- 
plained why  the  flight  to  Varennes,  in  which  Fersen 
had  taken  such  a  prominent  part,  and  which  had 
succeeded  so  well  so  long  as  he  directed  it,  had 
ended  in  failure.  The  Queen  described  the  anguish 
of  the  arrest  and  the  return.  To  the  project  of  a 
new  effort  to  escape,  she  replied  by  pointing  out 
the  implacable  surveillance  of  which  she  was  the 
object,  and  the  effervescence  of  popular  passions, 
which  this  time  would  overleap  all  restraint  if  the 
fugitives  were  taken.  It  would  be  better  for  the 
royal  family  to  suffer  together  than  to  expose  them- 
selves to  die  separately.  It  would  be  better  to  die 
like  princes,  who  abdicate  majesty  only  with  life, 
than  as  vagabonds,  under  a  vulgar  disguise.  "  The 
Queen,"  adds  Fersen,  "told  me  that  she  saw  Alex- 
ander Lameth  and  Dupcrt ;  that  they  always  tell  her 
that  there  is  no  remedy  but  foreign  troojDS ;  failing 
that,  all  is  lost,  that  this  cannot  last,  that  they 
have  gone  farther  than  they  wished  to.  In  spite  of 
all  this,  she  thinks  them  malicious,  does  not  trust 
them,  but  uses  them  as  best  she  can.  All  the 
ministers  are  traitors  who  betray  the  King."  Fersen 
had  a  final  interview  with  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette  on  February  21,  1792.     By  February  24, 


DE  FEBSEN'S  LAST  JOURNEY  TO  PARIS.       21 

he  had  returned  to  Brussels.  He  was  profoundly 
moved  on  quitting  the  Tuileries,  but,  dismal  and 
lugubrious  as  his  forebodings  may  have  been,  how 
much  more  sombre  was  the  reality  to  prove ! 

What  a  terrible  fate  was  reserved  for  the  chief 
actors  in  this  drama!  Yet  a  few  days,  and  the 
chivalrous  Gustavus  was  to  be  assassinated.  The 
hour  of  execution  was  approaching  for  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette.  Fersen,  likewise,  was  to 
have  a  most  tragic  end.  From  the  moment  when 
he  bade  his  last  adieu  to  the  unhappy  Queen,  his 
life  was  but  one  long  torment.  His  disposition, 
already  inclined  to  melancholy,  became  incurably 
sad.  His  loyal  and  devoted  soul  could  not  accustom 
itself  to  the  thought  of  the  calamities  weighing  so 
cruelly  upon  that  good  and  beautiful  sovereign  of 
whom  he  said  in  1778:  "The  Queen  is  the  prettiest 
and  most  amiable  princess  that  I  know."  On 
October  14,  1793,  he  will  still  be  endeavoring,  with 
the  aid  of  Baron  de  Breteuil,  to  bring  to  completion 
a  thousandth  plot  to  extricate  the  august  captive 
from  her  fate.  He  will  learn  the  fatal  tidings 
on  the  20th.  "I  can  think  of  nothing  but  my 
loss,"  he  will  write  in  his  journal.  "It  is  frightful 
to  have  no  positive  details.  It  is  horrible  that  she 
should  have  been  alone  in  her  last  moments,  with 
no  one  to  speak  to,  or  to  receive  her  last  wishes. 
No;  without  vengeance,  my  heart  will  never  be  con- 
tent." Covered  with  honors  under  the  reign  of 
Gustavus  IV.,  senator,  chancellor  of  the  Academy  of 


22  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Upsal,  member  of  the  Seraphim  Order,  grand 
marshal  of  the  kingdom  of  Sweden,  there  will 
remain  in  the  depths  of  his  heart  a  wound  which 
nothing  can  heal.  An  inveterate  fatality  will  pur- 
sue him  as  it  had  done  the  unfortunate  sovereign  of 
whom  he  had  been  the  chevalier.  He  will  perish 
in  a  riot  at  Stockholm,  June  20,  1810,  at  the  time 
of  the  obsequies  of  the  Prince  Royal.  Struck  down 
by  fists  and  walking-sticks,  his  hair  pulled  out,  his 
clothes  torn  to  rags,  he  will  be  dragged  about  half- 
naked,  rolled  underfoot,  assassinated  by  a  maddened 
populace.  Before  rendering  his  last  sigh,  he  will 
succeed  in  rising  to  his  knees,  and,  joining  his 
hands,  he  will  utter  these  words  from  the  stoning 
of  Saint  Stephen:  "O  my  God,  who  callest  me  to 
Thee,  I  implore  Thee  for  my  tormentors,  whom  I 
pardon."  If  not  the  same  words,  they  are  at  least 
the  same  thoughts  as  those  of  Marie  Antoinette  on 
the  platform  of  the  scaffold. 


III. 


THE  DEATH  OF   THE  EMPEEOR   LEOPOLD. 

ONE  after  another,  Marie  Antoinette  lost  her 
last  chances  of  safety ;  blows  as  unforeseen  as 
terrible  beat  down  the  combinations  on  which  she 
had  built  her  hopes.  Within  a  fortnight  she  was  to 
see  the  two  sovereigns  disappear  from  whom  she  had 
expected  succor :  her  brother,  the  Emperor  Leopold, 
and  Gustavus  III.,  the  King  of  Sweden.  Leopold 
had  not  been  equal  to  all  the  illusions  which  his 
sister  had  cherished  with  regard  to  him,  but,  never- 
theless, he  showed  great  interest  in  French  affairs, 
and  a  lively  desire  to  be  useful  to  Louis  XVI. 
Pacific  by  disposition,  he  had  temporized  at  first, 
and  adopted  a  conciliatory  policy.  He  desired  a 
reconciliation  with  the  new  principles,  and,  more- 
over, he  was  not  blind  to  the  inexperience  and  levity 
of  the  SmigrSs.  But  the  obligation,  to  which  he 
was  bound  by  treaties,  to  defend  the  rights  of  princes 
holding  property  in  Alsace,  his  fear  of  the  propa- 
ganda of  sedition,  the  aggressive  language  of  the 
National  Assembly  and  the  Parisian  press,  had 
ended  by  determining  him  to  take  a  more  resolute 
attitude,   and  it  was  at  the  moment  when  he  was 

28 


24  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

seriously  intending  to  come  to  his  sister's  aid  that 
he  was  carried  off  by  sudden  death.  Though  she 
did  not  desire  a  war  between  Austria  and  France, 
the  Queen  had  persisted  in  wishing  for  an  armed 
congress,  which  would  have  been  a  compromise 
between  peace  and  war,  but  which  the  National 
Assembly  would  have  regarded  as  an  intolerable 
humiliation.  It  must  not  be  denied,  the  situation 
was  a  false  one.  Between  the  true  sentiments  of 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  new  r61e  as  a  constitutional 
sovereign,  there  was  a  real  incompatibility.  As  to 
the  Queen,  she  was  on  good  terms  neither  with  the 
SmigrSs  nor  with  the  Assembly. 

In  order  to  get  a  just  idea  of  the  sentiments 
shown  by  the  SmigrSs^  it  is  necessaiy  to  read  a 
letter  written  from  Treves,  October  16,  1791,  by 
Madame  de  Raigecourt,  the  friend  of  Madame  Elisa- 
beth, to  another  friend  of  the  Princess,  the  Marquise 
de  Bombelles:  "I  see  with  pain  that  Paris  and 
Coblentz  are  not  on  good  terms.  The  Emperor 
treats  the  Princes  like  children.  .  .  .  The  Princes 
cannot  avoid  suspecting  that  it  is  the  influence  of 
the  Queen  and  her  agents  which  thwarts  their  plans 
and  causes  the  Emperor  to  behave  so  sti-angely.  .  .  . 
Some  trickery  on  the  part  of  the  Tuileries  is  still 
suspected  in  this  country.  They  ought  to  explain 
themselves  to  each  other  once  for  all.  Is  the  Queen 
afraid  lest  the  Count  d'Artois  should  arrogate  an 
authority  in  the  realm  which  would  diminish  her 
own?    Let  her  be  at  ease  on  that  score:  she  will 


THE  DEATH   OF  THE  EMPEROR  LEOPOLD.      25 

always  be  the  King's  wife  and  always  dominant. 
What  is  she  afraid  of,  then?  She  complains  that 
she  is  not  sufficiently  respected.  But  you  know  the 
good  heart  and  the  uprightness  of  our  Prince ;  he  is 
incapable  of  the  remarks  attributed  to  him,  and 
which  have  certainly  been  reported  to  the  Queen 
with  the  intention  of  estranging  them  entirely." 
Madame  de  Raigecourt  ends  her  letter  with  this 
complaint  against  Louis  XVI. :  "  Our  wretched 
King  lowers  himself  more  and  more  every  day;  for 
he  is  doing  too  much,  even  if  he  still  intends  to 
escape.  .  .  .  The  emigration,  meanwhile,  increases 
daily,  and  presently  there  will  be  more  Frenchmen 
than  Germans  in  this  region."  At  this  very  time, 
the  Queen  was  having  recourse  to  her  brother  Leo- 
pold as  to  a  saviour.  She  wrote  to  him,  October 
4,  1791:  "My  only  consolation  is  in  writing  to 
you,  my  dear  brother;  I  am  surrounded  by  so 
many  atrocities  that  I  need  all  your  friendship  to 
tranquillize  my  mind.  ...  A  point  of  primary 
importance  is  to  regulate  the  conduct  of  the  SmigrSs. 
If  they  re-enter  France  in  arms,  all  is  lost,  and  it 
will  be  impossible  to  make  it  believed  that  we  are 
not  in  connivance  with  them.  Even  the  existence 
of  an  army  of  SmigrSs  on  the  frontier  would  be 
enough  to  keep  up  the  irritation  and  afford  ground 
for  accusations  against  us ;  it  appears  to  me  that  a 
congress  would  make  the  task  of  restraining  them 
less  difficult.  .  .  .  This  idea  of  a  congress  pleases 
me  greatly;  it  would  second  the  efforts  we  are  mak- 


26  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  BOTALTY. 

ing  to  maintain  confidence.  In  the  first  place,  I 
repeat,  it  would  put  a  check  on  the  SmigrSs^  and, 
moreover,  it  would  make  an  impression  here  from 
which  I  hope  much.  I  submit  that  to  your  better 
judgment.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  dear  brother;  we  love 
you,  and  my  daughter  has  particularly  charged  me 
to  embrace  her  good  uncle." 

"While  Marie  Antoinette  was  thus  turning  towards 
Austria  for  assistance,  the  National  Assembly  at 
Paris  repelled  with  energy  all  thought  of  any 
intervention  whatsoever  on  the  part  of  foreign 
powers.  January  1,  1792,  it  issued  a  decree  of 
impeachment  against  the  King's  brothers,  the  Prince 
de  Conde,  and  Calonne.  The  confiscation  of  the 
property  of  the  SmigrSs  and  the  taxation  of  their 
revenues  for  the  benefit  of  the  State  had  been  pre- 
scribed by  another  decree  to  which  Louis  XVI.  had 
offered  no  opposition.  January  14,  Guadet  said  in 
the  tribune,  while  speaking  of  the  congress :  "  If  it 
is  true  that  by  delays  and  discouragement  they 
wish  to  bring  us  to  accept  this  shameful  mediation, 
ought  the  National  Assembly  to  close  its  eyes  to 
such  a  danger?  Let  us  all  swear  to  die  here  rather 
than  —  "  He  was  not  allowed  to  finish.  The  whole 
assembly  rose  to  their  feet,  crying:  "Yes,  yes;  we 
swear  it!"  And  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm,  every 
Frenchman  who  would  take  part  in  a  congress 
having  for  its  object  the  modification  of  the  Consti- 
tution, was  declared  an  infamous  traitor.  January 
17,  it  was  decreed  that  the  King  should  require  the 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  EMPEROR  LEOPOLD.      21 

Emperor  Leopold  to  explain  himself  definitely  before 
March  1. 

By  a  curious  coincidence,  this  date  of  March  1 
was  precisely  that  on  which  the  Emperor  Leopold 
was  to  die  of  a  dreadful  malady.  He  was  in  perfect 
health  on  February  27,  when  he  gave  audience  to 
the  Turkish  envoy;  he  was  in  his  agony,  February 
28,  and  on  March  1,  he  died.  His  usual  physician 
asserted  that  he  had  been  poisoned.  The  idea  that  a 
crime  had  been  committed  spread  among  the  people. 
Vague  rumors  got  about  concerning  a  woman  who 
had  caused  remark  at  the  last  masked  ball  at  court. 
This  unknown  person,  under  shelter  of  her  disguise, 
might  have  presented  the  sovereign  with  poisoned 
bonbons.  The  Jacobins,  who  might  have  desired  to 
get  rid  of  the  armed  chief  of  the  empire,  and  the 
^migrSs,  who  might  have  reproached  him  as  too  luke- 
warm in  his  opposition  to  the  principles  of  the  French 
Revolution,  were  alternately  suspected.  The  last 
hypothesis  was  hardly  probable,  nor  does  anything 
prove  that  the  Jacobins  had  any  hand  in  the  possibly 
natural  death  of  the  Emperor  Leopold.  But  minds 
were  so  overexcited  at  the  time  that  the  parties 
mutually  accused  each  other,  on  all  occasions,  of  the 
most  execrable  crimes.  For  that  matter,  there  were 
Jacobins  who,  out  of  mere  bravado,  would  willingly 
have  gloried  in  crimes  of  which  they  were  not 
guilty,  provided  that  these  crimes  had  been  com- 
mitted against  kings. 

What  is  certain  is,  that  Marie  Antoinette  believed 


28  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

in  poison.  "The  death  of  the  Emperor  Leopold," 
says  Madame  Campan,  "occurred  on  March  1,  1792. 
The  Queen  was  out  when  the  news  arrived  at  the 
Tuileries.  On  her  return,  I  gave  her  the  letter 
announcing  it.  She  cried  out  that  the  Emperor  had 
been  poisoned;  that  she  had  remarked  and  preserved 
a  gazette  in  which,  in  an  article  on  the  session  of 
the  Jacobin  Club  at  the  time  when  Leopold  had 
declared  for  the  Coalition,  it  was  said,  in  speakii^g 
of  him,  that  a  bit  of  pieci*ust  could  settle  that  affair. 
From  that  moment  the  Queen  had  regarded  this 
phrase  as  an  inadvertence  of  the  propagandists." 

On  the  very  day  when  Marie  Antoinette's  brother 
died,  Louis  XVI. 's  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  De 
Lessart,  had  enraged  the  National  Assembly  by 
reading  them  extracts  from  his  diplomatic  coitc- 
spondence,  which  they  found  not  sufficiently  firm. 
They  were  indignant  at  a  despatch  in  which  Prince 
de  Kaunitz  said:  "The  latest  events  give  us  hopes; 
it  appears  that  the  majority  of  the  French  nation, 
impressed  with  the  evils  they  have  prepared,  are 
returning  to  more  moderate  principles,  and  incline 
to  render  to  the  throne  the  dignity  and  authority 
which  are  the  essence  of  monarchical  government." 
When  De  Lessart  came  down  from  the  tribune,  the 
whispering  changed  into  cries  of  rage  and  threats 
against  the  minister  and  the  court,  which,  it  was 
said,  was  planning  a  counter-revolution  at  the  Tui- 
leries, and  dictating  to  the  cabinet  of  Vienna  the 
language  by  which  it  hoped  to  intimidate  France. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  EMPEKOB  LEOPOLD.      29 

At  the  evening  session  of  the  same  day,  Rouyer,  a 
deputy,  proposed  to  impeach  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  "Is  it  possible,"  cried  he,  "that  a  perfidi- 
ous minister  should  come  here  to  make  a  parade  of 
his  work  and  lay  the  responsibility  of  it  on  a  foreign 
power?  Will  the  time  never  arrive  when  ministers 
shall  cease  to  betray  us  ?  Were  my  head  to  be  the 
price  of  the  denunciation  I  am  making,  I  would 
none  the  less  go  on  with  it."  At  the  session  of 
March  6,  Guadet  said :  "  It  is  time  to  know  whether 
the  ministers  wish  to  make  Louis  XVI.  King  of  the 
French,  or  the  King  of  Coblentz." 

On  the  10th  the  storm  broke.  The  day  before, 
Narbonne  had  received  his  dismission.  Brissot 
accused  De  Lessart  of  having  compromised  the  safety 
of  France,  withheld  from  the  Assembly  the  docu- 
ments establishing  the  alliance  between  the  Emperor 
and  the  King  of  Prussia,  discredited  the  assignats, 
depreciated  the  credit,  lowered  the  rate  of  exchange, 
and  encouraged  interior  disorder.  Vergniaud  fol- 
lowed him,  exclaiming:  "From  the  tribune  where 
I  am  speaking  may  be  seen  the  palace  where  per- 
verse counsellors  lead  astray  and  deceive  the  King 
given  to  you  by  the  Constitution ;  where  they  forge 
chains  for  the  nation,  and  arrange  the  manoeuvres 
which  are  to  deliver  us  up  to  Austria,  after  having 
caused  us  to  pass  through  the  horrors  of  civil  war. 
Terror  and  dismay  have  often  issued  from  that 
famous  palace.  Let  them  re-enter  it  to-day  in  the 
name  of  the  law,  let  them  penetrate  all  hearts,  and 


30  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTT. 

teach  all  who  dwell  there,  that  our  Constitution 
accords  inviolability  to  the  King  alone.  Let  them 
know  that  the  law  will  overtake  all  the  guilty  with- 
out exception,  and  that  there  will  not  be  a  single 
head  convicted  of  crime  which  can  escape  its  sword." 
The  decree  of  impeachment  against  the  ministers 
was  voted  by  a  very  large  majority.  De  Lessart 
was  advised  to  take  flight,  but  he  refused.  "  I  owe 
it  to  my  country,"  said  he,  "I  owe  it  to  my  King 
and  to  myself  to  make  my  innocence  and  the  regu- 
larity of  my  conduct  plain  before  the  tribunal  of  the 
high  court,  and  I  have  decided  to  give  myself  up 
at  Orleans."  He  was  conducted  by  gendarmes  to 
that  city,  where  he  was  imprisoned.  Louis  XVI. 
dared  not  do  anything  to  save  his  favorite  minister. 
On  March  11,  Potion,  the  mayor  of  Paris,  came  to 
the  bar  of  the  Assembly,  and  read,  in  the  name  of 
the  Commune,  an  address  in  which  it  was  said: 
"When  the  atmosphere  surrounding  us  is  heavy 
with  noisome  vapors.  Nature  can  relieve  herself  only 
by  a  thunder-storm.  So,  too,  society  can  purge 
itself  from  the  abuses  which  disturb  it  only  by  a 
formidable  explosion.  ...  It  is  true,  then,  that 
responsibility  is  not  an  idle  word;  that  all  men, 
whatever  may  be  their  stations,  are  equal  before  the 
law;  that  the  sword  of  justice  is  poised  over  all 
heads  without  distinction."  Was  not  this  language 
like  a  prognostic  of  the  21st  of  January  and  the  16th 
of  October?  Encompassed  by  a  thousand  snares, 
hated    by  each    of    the    extreme    parties,    by    the 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  EMPEEOR  LEOPOLD.      31 

SmigrSs  as  well  as  by  the  Jacobins,  Marie  Antoi- 
nette no  longer  beheld  anything  but  aspects  of  sor- 
row. Abroad,  as  in  France,  her  gaze  fell  on  dismal 
spectacles  only.  Her  imagination  was  affected.  She 
hardly  dared  taste  the  dishes  served  at  her  table. 
All  had  conspired  to  betray  her.  She  had  experi- 
enced so  many  deceptions  and  so  much  anguish; 
fate  had  pursued  her  with  so  much  bitterness,  that 
her  heart,  exhausted  with  emotions,  and  over- 
whelmed with  sadness,  was  weary  of  all  things, 
even  of  hope. 


IV. 


THE  DEATH  OF   GTTSTAVTJS  HI. 

THE  drama  of  the  Revolution  is  not  French 
alone ;  it  is  European.  It  has  its  afterclap  in 
every  empire,  in  every  kingdom,  even  to  the  most 
distant  lands.  It  excites  minds  in  Stockholm  almost 
as  much  as  in  Paris.  Among  the  Swedes  there  are 
people  whose  greatest  desire  would  be  to  parody  the 
October  Days,  and  to  carry  about  on  pikes  the  bleed- 
ing heads  of  their  adversaries.  The  new  ideas  take 
fire  and  spread  like  a  train  of  gunpowder.  It  is  the 
fashion  to  go  to  extremes;  a  nameless  frenzy  and 
fatality  seem  let  loose  upon  this  epoch  of  agitations 
and  catastrophes.  All  those  who,  at  one  time  or 
another,  have  been  guests  at  the  palace  of  Ver- 
sailles, are  condemned,  as  by  a  mysterious  sentence, 
either  to  exile  or  to  death. 

How  will  terminate  the  career  of  that  brilliant 
King  of  Sweden,  who  had  received  from  Versailles 
and  from  Paris,  from  the  court  and  from  the  city, 
such  an  enthusiastic  reception?  Gustavus,  the  idol 
of  the  great  lords,  the  philosophers,  and  the  fashion- 
able beauties,  who,  after  being  the  hero  of  the 
encyclopsedists,  came  to  hold  his  court  at  Aix-la- 
82 


THE  DEATH  OF  GUSTAVUS  III.  33 

Chapelle  amid  the  French  ^migrSs,  and  who,  on  his 
return  to  Stockholm,  prepared  there  the  great  cru- 
sade for  authority,  announcing  himself  as  the 
avenger  of  divine  right,  the  saviour  of  all  thrones  ? 
The  last  days  of  his  life,  his  presentiments,  which 
recall  those  of  Caesar,  his  superstitions,  his  belief 
in  prophecies,  his  magic  incantations,  that  warning 
which  he  scorns,  as  the  Duke  de  Guise  did  at  the 
castle  of  Blois,  that  masked  ball  where  the  costumes, 
the  music,  the  flowers,  the  lights,  offer  a  painfully 
strange  contrast  to  the  horror  of  the  attack;  all  is 
sinister,  lugubrious,  in  these  fantastic  and  fatal 
scenes  which  have  already  tempted  more  than  one 
dramatist,  more  than  one  musician,  and  whose 
phases  a  Shakespeare  only  could  retrace.  The 
crime  of  Stockholm  is  linked  closely  to  the  death- 
struggle  of  French  royalty.  The  funeral  knell 
which  tolled  at  this  extremity  of  the  North  had 
echoes  in  Paris.  The  Swedish  regicides  set  the 
example  to  the  regicides  of  France. 

M.  Geffroy  has  remarked  very  justly  in  his  work, 
Crustave  III.  et  la  cour  de  France,  that  the  bloody 
deed  which  put  an  end  to  the  reign  and  the  life  of 
Gustavus  is  not  an  isolated  fact:  "The  faults  com- 
mitted by  this  Prince  would  not  have  sufficed  to 
arm  his  assassins.  The  true  source  whence  Ankar- 
stroem  and  his  accomplices  drew  their  first  inspira- 
tion was  that  vertigo  caused  during  the  last  years  of 
the  century  by  the  annihilation  of  all  religious  and 
even  all  philosophical  faith.   .  .   .     No  moment  of 


34  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  BOTALTT. 

modem  history  has  presented  an  intellectual  and 
moral  anarchy  comparable  to  that  which  accompanied 
the  revolutionary  period  in  Europe." 

The  eighteenth  century  was  punished  for  incre- 
dulity by  superstition.  Having  refused  to  believe 
the  most  holy  truths,  it  lent  credence  to  the  most 
fantastic  chimeras.  For  priests  it  substituted  sor- 
cerers; for  Christian  ceremonies,  the  rites  of  free- 
masonry. The  time  was  coming  when,  because  it 
had  rejected  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  it  was  going 
to  bow  before  the  sacred  heart  of  Marat.  The  adepts 
of  Mesmer  and  of  De  Puysegur,  the  seekers  after  the 
philosopher's  stone,  the  Nicolaites  of  Berlin,  the 
illuminati  of  Bavaria,  enlarged  the  boundaries  of 
human  credulity,  and  the  men  who  succumbed  in 
the  most  naive  and  foolish  manner  to  these  wretched 
weaknesses  of  mind,  were  precisely  the  haughtiest 
philosophers,  those  who  had  prided  themselves  the 
most  on  their  distinction  as  free-thinkers.  Such  a 
one  was  Gustavus  III. 

This  Voltairean  Prince,  who  had  held  the  Chris- 
tian verities  so  cheap,  was  superstitious  even  to 
puerility.  He  did  not  believe  in  the  Gospels,  but 
he  believed  in  books  of  magic.  In  a  corner  of  his 
palace  he  had  arranged  a  cupboard  with  a  censer  and 
a  pair  of  candlesticks,  before  which  he  performed 
cabalistic  operations  in  nothing  but  his  shirt. 
Throughout  his  entire  reign  he  consulted  a  fortune- 
teller named  Madame  Arfwedsson,  who  read  the  fut- 
ure for  him  in   coffee-grounds.     Around  his  neck 


THE  DEATH  OF  GUSTAVUS  III  35 

he  wore  a  gold  box  containing  a  sachet  in  which 
there  was  a  powder  that,  according  to  his  belief, 
would  drive  away  evil  spirits.  All  this  apparatus 
of  incantation  and  sorcery  was  one  of  the  causes  of 
Gustavus's  fall.  It  multiplied  the  snares  around 
the  unfortunate  monarch,  and  served  to  mask  his 
enemies.  Prophecies  announced  his  approaching 
end,  and  conspirators  took  care  to  fulfil  the  proph- 
ecies. 

The  Duke  of  Sudermania,  the  King's  brother, 
without  being  an  accomplice  in  the  project  of  crime, 
encouraged  underhand  practices.  Sectarians  ap- 
proached Gustavus  to  reproach  him  for  his  luxury, 
his  prodigalities,  his  entertainments,  or  addressed 
him  anonymous  warnings  which,  in  Biblical  lan- 
guage, declared  him  accursed  and  rejected  by  the 
Lord.  Their  insolence  knew  no  bounds.  Madame 
Arfwedsson  had  counselled  the  King  to  beware  if 
he  should  meet  a  man  dressed  in  red.  Count  de 
Ribbing,  one  of  the  future  conspirators,  having 
heard  of  this,  ordered  a  red  costume  out  of  bravado, 
and  presented  himself  in  it  before  his  sovereign, 
whom  such  an  apparition  caused  to  reflect  if  not  to 
tremble. 

Gustavus,  like  Caesar,  was  to  see  his  Ides  of 
March.  It  had  been  predicted  to  him  that  the 
month  of  March  would  be  fatal  to  him.  This  month 
approached,  and  the  monarch  diverted  himself  by 
f^tes  and  boisterous  entertainments  in  order  to 
banish  the  presentiments  which  never  ceased  to  assail 


36  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

him.  He  said  to  himself  that  all  this  phantas- 
magoria would  probably  soon  vanish;  that  the  fu- 
nereal images  would  of  themselves  depart ;  and  that 
the  spectres  would  disappear  at  the  sound  of  arms. 
The  monarchical  crusade  of  which  he  proposed  to  be 
the  leader  grew  upon  him  as  the  best  means  by 
which  to  escape  the  incessant  obsessions  haunting 
his  spirit.  In  vain  was  he  reminded  that  Sweden 
was  in  need  of  money,  and  that  a  war  of  interven- 
tion in  the  affairs  of  France  was  not  popular.  His 
resolution  remained  unshaken.  He  counted  the 
days  and  hours  which  still  separated  him  from  the 
moment  of  action:  his  sole  idea  was  to  chastise 
the  Jacobins  and  avenge  the  majesty  of  thrones. 

Returned  to  Stockholm  from  Aix-la-Chapelle,  at 
the  beginning  of  August,  1791,  the  impetuous  mon- 
arch began  to  be  very  active  in  his  warlike  prepara- 
tions. The  Marquis  de  Bouill^,  who  had  been 
obliged  to  quit  France  at  the  time  of  the  unsuccess- 
ful journey  to  Varennes,  had  entered  his  service  and 
was  to  counsel  him  and  fight  at  his  side  under  the 
Swedish  flag.  At  the  same  time  Gustavus  officially 
renewed  his  promises  of  aid  to  the  King  of  France. 
Louis  XVI.  replied :  — 

"Monsieur  my  Brother  and  Cousin:  I  have 
just  received  the  lines  with  which  you  have  honored 
me  on  the  occasion  of  your  return.  It  is  always  a 
great  consolation  to  have  such  proofs  of  a  friendly 
sentiment  as  are  given  me  by  this  letter.  The 
concern.  Sire,  which  you  take  in  all  that  relates  to 


THE  DEATH  OF  GUSTAVUS  III.  37 

my  interest  touches  me  more  and  more,  and  I  recog- 
nize in  each  word  the  august  soul  of  a  king  whom 
the  world  admires  as  much  for  his  magnanimous 
heart  as  for  his  wisdom. ' ' 

Meanwhile  the  conspirators,  animated  either  by- 
personal  rancor  or  the  passions  common  to  nobles 
hostile  to  their  king,  were  secretly  preparing  for  an 
attack.  The  five  leaders  were  Captain  Ankarstroem, 
Count  de  Ribbing,  Count  de  Horn,  Count  de  Lilien- 
horn,  major  of  the  Blue  Guards,  and  Baron  Pechlin, 
an  old  man  of  seventy-two,  who  had  been  distin- 
guished in  the  civil  wars,  and  was  the  soul  of  the 
plot.  The  conspirators  had  doubts  before  commit- 
ting the  crime.  During  the  Diet,  which  met  at 
Gefle,  January  25,  1792,  they  refrained  at  the  very 
moment  when  they  were  about  to  strike. 

Gustavus  was  in  his  castle  of  Haga,  about  a  league 
from  Stockholm,  without  guards  or  attendants. 
Three  of  the  conspirators  approached  the  castle  at 
five  in  the  evening.  They  were  armed  with  car- 
bines, and,  having  placed  themselves  in  ambush 
near  the  King's  apartment  on  the  ground-floor,  were 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  kill  their  sovereign. 
Gustavus  coming  in  from  a  long  walk,  went  in  his 
dressing-gown  to  sit  in  the  library,  the  windows 
of  which  opened  like  doors  into  the  garden.  He 
fell  asleep  in  his  armchair.  Whether  they  were 
alarmed  by  the  sound  of  footsteps,  or  whether  the 
contrast  between  the  slumber  of  the  unsuspicious 
King  and  the  death  poising  above  his  head  awakened 


88  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  EOTALTY. 

some  remorse,  the  assassins  once  more  abandoned 
their  meditated  crime. 

Weary  of  the  attempts  they  had  been  planning 
for  six  months,  and  which  never  came  to  anything, 
the  conspirators  might  possibly  have  given  them  up 
altogether  if  a  circumstance  which  they  considered 
providential  had  not  come  to  rekindle  their  regicidal 
zeal.  The  last  masked  ball  of  the  season  was  to  be 
given  in  the  Opera-house  on  the  night  of  March 
16-17,  and  it  was  known  that  Gustavus  would  be 
present.  To  strike  the  monarch  in  the  midst  of  the 
festival,  in  order  to  chastise  him  for  his  love  of 
pleasure,  was  an  idea  which  charmed  the  assassins. 
Moreover,  the  mask  alone  could  embolden  them; 
they  thought  that  if  the  august  victim  were  envel- 
oped in  a  domino  they  need  no  longer  dread  that 
royal  prestige  which  had  more  than  onoe  caused 
them  to  recoil. 

Gustavus  was  counselled  to  be  on  his  guard.  The 
young  Count  Louis  de  Bouill^,  who  was  then  at 
Stockholm,  and  who  had  been  informed  by  a  letter 
from  Germany  that  the  King  was  about  to  be  assas- 
sinated, begged  him  to  profit  by  the  warnings  reach- 
ing him  from  every  quarter.  Gustavus  replied  that 
he  would  rather  go  blindly  to  meet  his  fate  than 
torment  himself  with  the  numberless  precautions 
which  such  suspicions  would  demand.  "If  I  lis- 
tened," added  he,  "to  all  the  advice  I  receive,  I 
could  not  even  drink  a  glass  of  water ;  besides,  I  am 
far  from  believing  in  the  execution  of  such  a  plot. 


THE  DEATH  OF  GUSTAVUS  III.  39 

My  subjects,  although  very  brave  in  war,  are  ex- 
tremely timid  in  politics.  The  successes  I  expect 
to  gain  in  France,  the  trophies  of  which  I  shall  bring 
back  to  Stockholm,  will  speedily  augment  my  power 
by  the  confidence  and  general  respect  which  will  be 
their  result." 

Meantime  the  fatal  hour  was  approaching.  The 
masked  ball  of  March  16  was  about  to  open.  Before 
going  there,  Gustavus  toak  supper  with  a  few  of  the 
persons  belonging  to  his  household.  While  he  was 
at  table  he  received  a  note,  written  in  French  and 
unsigned,  in  which  he  was  entreated  not  to  enter 
the  playhouse,  where  he  was  about  to  be  stricken  to 
death.  The  author  of  the  note  urgently  recom- 
mended the  King  not  to  make  his  appearance  at  the 
ball,  and,  if  he  persisted  in  going,  to  suspect  the 
crowd  which  would  press  around  him,  because  this 
gathering  was  to  be  the  prelude  and  signal  of  the 
blow  aimed  at  him.  The  really  bizarre  thing  about 
this  was  that  the  man  who  wrote  these  lines  was 
himself  one  of  the  conspirators,  Count  de  Lilien- 
horn. 

"It  is  impossible  to  tell,"  says  the  Marquis  de 
Bouill^  in  his  Memoirs,  "whether  his  conscience 
wished  to  acquit  itself  in  this  manner  towards  the 
King,  to  whom  he  owed  everything,  without  forfeit- 
ing his  word  to  his  party,  or  whether,  knowing  the 
fearless  character  of  this  prince,  he  did  not  offer  his 
anonymous  advice  as  a  bait  to  his  courage.  It  cer- 
tainly produced  the  latter  effect."    Gustavus  made  no 


40  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

reflections  on  reading  this  note,  and  went  fearlessly 
to  the  ball. 

The  orchestra  is  playing  wildly.  The  dances  are 
animated.  The  hall,  adorned  with  flowers,  sparkles 
under  the  glow  of  the  chandeliers.  Gustavus  appears 
for  a  moment  in  his  box.  It  is  only  then  that  he 
shows  to  Baron  d'Essen,  his  first  equerry,  the  anony- 
mous note  he  had  received  while  at  supper.  That 
faithful  servant  begs  him  not  to  go  down  into,  the 
hall.  Gustavus  disregards  the  prudent  counsel.  He 
says  that  hereafter  he  will  wear  a  coat  of  mail,  but 
that,  for  this  time,  he  is  perfectly  determined  to  be 
reckless  about  danger.  The  King  and  his  equerry 
go  into  the  saloon  in  front  of  the  royal  box,  where 
each  puts  on  a  domino.  Then  they  enter  the  hall 
by  way  of  the  stage.  There  are  men  essentially 
courageous,  who  love  danger  for  its  own  sake.  Gus- 
tavus is  one  of  them.  Hence  he  takes  pleasure  in 
braving  all  his  assassins.  As  he  is  crossing  the 
greenroom  with  Baron  d'Essen  on  his  arm,  "  Let  us 
see,"  says  he,  "  whether  they  will  really  dare  to  kill 
me."  Yes,  they  will  dare  it.  The  moment  that  the 
King  enters  he  is  recognized  in  spite  of  his  mask  and 
his  domino.  He  walks  slowly  around  the  hall,  and 
then  goes  into  the  pit,  where  he  strolls  about  during 
several  minutes.  He  is  about  to  retrace  his  steps, 
when  he  finds  himself  surrounded,  as  had  been  pre- 
dicted, by  a  group  of  maskers  who  get  between  him 
and  the  officers  of  his  suite.  Several  black  dominos 
approach.      They  are  the  assassins.     One  of  them, 


THE  DEATH  OF  GUSTAVUS  III.  41 

Count  de  Horn,  lays  a  hand  on  Ms  shoulder :  "  Good 
day,  fine  masker ! "  he  says.  This  Judas  salute, 
this  ironical  welcome  given  by  the  murderers  to 
their  victim,  is  the  signal  for  the  attack.  On  the 
instant,  Ankarstroem  fires  on  the  King  with  a  pistol 
loaded  with  old  iron. 

Gustavus,  struck  in  the  left  hip,  cries,  "I  am 
wounded ! "  The  pistol,  which  had  been  wrapped 
in  wool,  made  only  a  muffled  report,  and  the  smoke 
spreading  throughout  the  room,  the  crowd  does  not 
think  of  a  murder,  but  a  fire.  Cries  of  "  Fire !  fire  !  " 
augment  the  confusion.  Baron  d'Essen,  all  covered 
with  his  master's  blood,  helps  him  to  gain  a  little  box 
called  the  (Eil-de-Boeuf,  and  from  there  a  salon, 
where  he  is  laid  upon  a  sofa.  Baron  d'Armfelt 
orders  the  doors  of  the  theatre  to  be  closed,  and  every 
one  to  unmask.  A  man,  brazening  it  out,  lifts  his 
mask  before  the  officer  of  police,  and  says  to  him 
with  assurance,  "As  for  me,  sir,  I  hope  that  you 
will  not  suspect  me.'*  It  is  Ankarstroem,  the  assas- 
sin. He  goes  out  quietly.  But,  after  the  crime  was 
committed,  his  weapons,  a  pistol  and  a  knife  like 
that  of  Ravaillac,  had  fallen  on  the  floor.  A  gun- 
smith of  Stockholm  will  recognize  the  pistol  and 
declare  that  he  had  sold  it  a  few  days  before  to  a 
former  officer  of  the  guards,  Captain  Ankarstroem. 
It  is  the  token  which  will  cause  the  arrest  of  the 
assassin,  and  his  punishment  by  the  penalty  of  par- 
ricides, —  decapitation  and  the  cutting  off  of  his 
right  hand. 


42  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTr. 

The  King  showed  admirable  calm  and  resignation 
during  the  thirteen  days  he  had  still  to  live.  He 
asked  with  anxiety  if  the  murderer  had  been  arrested, 
and  being  answered  that  his  name  was  not  yet 
known:  "Ah!  God  grant,"  said  he,  "that  he  may 
not  be  discovered ! "  As  soon  as  the  first  bandages 
were  put  on,  the  wounded  man  was  taken  to  his 
apartments  at  the  castle.  There  he  received  his  cour- 
tiers and  the  foreign  ministers.  When  he  saw  the 
Duke  d'Escars,  who  represented  the  brothers  of  Louis 
XVI.  at  Stockholm :  "  This  is  a  blow,"  said  he, 
"  which  is  going  to  rejoice  your  Parisian  Jacobins ; 
but  write  to  the  Princes  that  if  I  recover  from  it,  it 
will  change  neither  my  sentiments  nor  my  zeal  for 
their  just  cause."  In  the  midst  of  his  sufferings  he 
preserved  a  dignity  above  all  praise.  Neither  recrim- 
inations nor  murmurs  issued  from  his  lips.  He  sum- 
moned to  his  death-bed  both  his  friends  and  those  who 
had  been  among  the  number  of  his  enemies,  but 
would  have  been  horrified  to  have  been  accomplices 
in  a  crime.  When  the  old  Count  de  Brah6,  leader 
of  the  nobles  of  the  opposition,  presented  himself, 
Gustavus  said,  as  he  pressed  him  in  his  arms:  "I 
bless  my  wound,  since  it  has  brought  back  an  old 
friend  who  had  withdrawn  from  me.  Embrace  me, 
my  dear  count,  and  let  all  be  forgotten  between  us." 

The  fate  of  his  son,  who  was  about  to  ascend  the 
throne  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  was  the  chief  preoccu- 
pation of  the  King.  "  Let  them  put  me  on  a  litter," 
cried  he ;  "I  will  go  to  the  public  square  and  speak  to 


THE  DEATH  OF  GU8TAVU8  III.  43 

the  people."  And  he  said  to  Baron  d'Armfelt:  "  Go, 
and  like  another  Antony,  show  the  bloody  vestments 
of  Caesar."  It  was  also  to  D'Armfelt  that  he  said  as 
he  was  signing  with  his  dying  hand  his  commission 
as  Governor  of  Stockholm :  "  Give  me  your  knightly 
word  that  you  will  serve  my  son  as  faithfully  as  you 
have  served  me."  He  made  his  confession  to  his 
grand-almoner  :  "I  fear,"  he  said  to  him,  "that  I  have 
no  great  merit  before  God,  but  at  least  I  am  sure  that 
I  have  never  done  harm  to  any  one  intentionally." 
He  meant  to  receive  the  sacraments  according  to  the 
Lutheran  form,  and  to  have  the  Queen  brought  to 
him,  as  he  had  not  seen  her  since  his  illness.  But 
while  seeking  sleep  in  order  to  tranquillize  his  mind 
before  this  emotion,  he  found  the  slumber  of  death, 
March  29,  1792,  at  eleven  in  the  morning.  He 
was  forty-six  years  old. 

Thus  terminated  the  brilliant  and  stormy  career  of 
the  prince  on  whom  the  Marquis  de  Bouill^  has  pro- 
nounced the  following  judgment :  "  His  manners  and 
his  politeness  rendered  him  the  most  amiable  and  at- 
tractive man  in  his  country,  although  the  Swedes  are 
naturally  intelligent.  He  had  a  vivid  imagination,  a 
mind  enlightened  and  adorned  by  a  taste  for  letters, 
a  masculine  and  persuasive  eloquence,  and  an  easy 
elocution  even  when  speaking  French;  useful  and 
agreeable  acquirements,  a  prodigious  memory,  polite 
and  affable  manners,  accompanied  by  a  certain  oddity 
which  did  not  displease.  His  strong  and  ardent  soul 
was  enkindled  with  an  inordinate  love  of  glory ;  but  a 


44  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTT. 

chivalrous  spirit  and  loyalty  dominated  there.  His 
sensitive  heart  rendered  him  clement,  when  he  ought, 
perhaps,  to  have  been  severe  ;  he  was  even  susceptible 
of  friendship,  and  this  prince  has  had  and  has  preserved 
friends  whom  I  have  known,  and  who  were  worthy 
to  be  such.  He  had  a  firm  and  decided  character, 
and,  above  all,  that  resolution  so  necessary  to  states- 
men, without  which  wit,  prudence,  talents,  experi- 
ence, are  not  only  useless,  but  often  injurious." 

According  to  the  Marquis  de  Bouill^,  Gustavus 
should  have  been  the  King  of  France,  and  Louis 
XVI.  King  of  Sweden.  "As  the  sovereign  of  France, 
Gustavus  would  have  been,  beyond  all  doubt,  one  of 
its  greatest  kings.  He  would  have  preserved  that 
beautiful  realm  from  a  revolution ;  he  would  have 
governed  with  glory  and  with  splendor.  .  .  .  Louis 
XVI.,  on  the  other  hand,  placed  on  the  throne  of 
Sweden,  would  have  obtained  the  respect  and  esteem 
of  that  simple  people  by  his  moral  and  religious  vir- 
tues, his  economy,  his  spirit  of  justice,  and  his  good 
and  benevolent  sentiments.  He  would  have  contrib- 
uted to  the  happiness  of  the  Swedes,  who  would  have 
wept  above  his  tomb ;  whereas  both  these  monarchs 
perished  at  the  hands  of  their  subjects.  But  the 
designs  of  Providence  are  impenetrable,  and  we 
ought,  in  respect  and  silence,  to  obey  its  unalterable 
decrees." 

The  Jacobins  of  Paris,  who  affected  to  despise  the 
projects  of  Gustavus  III.,  showed  how  much  they 
had  feared  him  by  the  mad  joy  they  displayed  on 


THE  DEATH  OF  GU8TAVUS  III.  45 

learning  of  his  death.  They  lavished  praises  on 
"  Brutus  Ankarstroem."  Although  it  had  been  com- 
mitted by  the  nobles,  there  was  a  certain  reminiscence 
of  the  French  Revolution  about  the  assault.  In  their 
secret  meetings  the  conspirators  had  agreed  to  carry 
around  on  pikes  the  heads  of  Gustavus's  principal 
friends,  "  in  the  French  style,"  as  was  said  in  those 
days.  Count  de  Lilienhorn,  brought  up,  nourished, 
and  drawn  from  poverty  and  obscurity  by  Gustavus, 
and  overwhelmed  to  the  last  moment  by  the  benefits 
of  the  generous  monarch,  explained  his  monstrous 
ingratitude  and  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  attack, 
by  saying  he  had  been  led  astray  by  the  idea  of  com- 
manding the  National  Guards  of  Stockholm  after  the 
Revolution,  and  playing  the  same  part  as  Lafayette. 
The  Girondin  ministry  attained  to  power  in  France 
a  few  days  after  Gustavus  had  been  struck  down  in 
Sweden.  There  was  no  connecting  link  between  the 
two  facts ;  but  at  Paris,  as  at  Stockholm,  the  cause  of 
kings  sustained  a  terrible  repulse.  The  tragic  death 
of  their  faithful  friend  must  have  caused  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette  some  painful  forebodings  con- 
cerning  their  own  fate.  The  murder  of  Gustavus  was 
the  first  of  a  series  of  great  catastrophes.  The  pistol 
of  the  Swedish  regicide  heralded  the  blade  of  the 
Parisian  guillotine.  The  16th  of  March  was  the 
prelude  of  the  21st  of  January. 


V. 

THE  BEQENNINGS  OF  MADAME  ROLAND. 

THE  moment  is  at  hand  when  a  woman  of  the 
middle  class,  born  in  humble  circumstances,  is 
about  to  make  her  appearance  on  the  scene  of  politics ; 
a  woman  who,  after  living  in  obscurity  during  thirty- 
eight  years,  was  to  become  famous  in  a  few  days,  and 
attract  the  attention  of  all  France  first  and  after- 
wards that  of  Europe  entire.  No  figure  is  more  curi- 
ous to  study  than  hers,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that 
of  late  years  it  has  tempted  men  of  great  merit,  such 
as  MM.  Daubant  and  Faug^re,  whose  publications 
have  shed  great  light  on  the  Egeria  of  the  Girondins. 
At  every  epoch  of  history  there  are  certain  women 
who  become  as  it  were  living  symbols,  and  sum  up 
in  their  own  persons  the  passions,  prejudices,  and 
illusions  of  their  time.  They  reflect  at  once  its 
vices  and  its  virtues,  its  qualities  and  its  defects. 
Such  was  Madame  Roland.  All  the  distinctive  char- 
acteristics of  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  are 
resumed  in  her :  ardent  enthusiasm,  generous  ideals, 
aspiration  towards  progress,  passion  for  liberty,  heroic 
courage  in  view  of  persecution,  captivity,  and  death ; 
an  absence  of  religious  faith,  an  implacable  vanity,  a 
46 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MADAME  BOLAND.       47 

thirst  for  emotions,  plagiarism  of  antiquity,  declama- 
tory language  and  sentiments,  and  childish  imitation 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  Nothing  is  more  interesting 
than  to  analyze  the  conceptions  of  this  mind,  count 
the  pulsations  of  this  heart,  and  surprise  the  inmost 
secrets  of  a  woman  whose  psychological  importance  is 
as  considerable  as  her  place  in  history.  Intellectually 
as  well  as  morally,  Madame  Roland  is  the  daughter 
of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau;  socially  she  is  the  per- 
sonification of  that  third  estate  which,  having  been 
nothing,  wished  at  first  to  be  something  and  after- 
wards to  be  all ;  politically,  she  is  by  turns  the  heroine 
and  the  victim  of  the  Revolution,  which,  under  pre- 
text of  liberty,  engendered  tyranny,  which  used  the 
guillotine  and  perished  by  the  guillotine,  and  which 
after  dreaming  of  light  expired  in  mire  and  blood. 

How  was  it  that  this  little  bourgeoises  the  daughter 
of  Philipon  the  engraver,  a  man  midway  between  an 
artisan  and  an  artist,  whose  very  origin  seemed  to  re- 
move her  so  far  from  any  political  r61e,  attained  to  high 
renown?  What  influences  formed  this  woman  whose 
qualities  were  masculine  ?  Whence  was  drawn  the 
inspiration  of  this  siren,  destined  to  be  taken  in  her 
own  snares  and  die  the  victim  of  her  own  incanta- 
tions ?  A  rapid  glance  at  the  earliest  years  of  Marie- 
Jeanne  Philipon,  the  future  Madame  Roland,  is 
enough  to  explain  her  passions  and  her  hopes,  her 
errors  and  her  talents,  her  rages  and  her  enthusiasms. 

She  was  born  in  Paris,  March  18,  1754,  of  an  intel- 
ligent but  frivolous   father,  and  a  simple,  devoted, 


48  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 

honestly  commonplace  mother.  From  infancy  she 
felt  herself  superior  to  those  by  whom  she  was  sur- 
rounded. Thence  sprang  an  unmeasured  pride  and 
a  continual  hunger  to  produce  an  impression.  The 
infant  prodigy  preluded  the  female  politician.  Speak- 
ing of  herself  in  her  Memoirs,  she  becomes  ecstatic 
over  the  child  who  "read  serious  works,  explained 
very  well  the  circles  of  the  celestial  globe,  used  cray- 
ons and  the  burin,  found  at  eight  years  that  she  was 
the  best  dancer  in  an  assembly  of  young  persons 
older  than  herself,"  and  who,  nevertheless,  "was 
often  summoned  to  the  kitchen  to  make  an  omelette, 
clean  the  vegetables,  or  skim  the  pot."  She  admires 
her  own  willingness  to  descend  to  domestic  cares : 
"  I  was  never  out  of  my  element,"  she  says ;  "  I  could 
make  soup  as  skilfully  as  Philopoemen  could  chop 
wood ;  but  no  one,  observing  me,  could  imagine  that 
'<'  this  was  suitable  employment."  Still  speaking  of 
herself,  she  celebrates  "the  little  person  who  on  Sun- 
days went  to  church  or  out  walking  in  a  spick-and- 
span  costume  whose  appearance  was  fully  sustained 
by  her  demeanor  and  her  language."  She  calls  at- 
tention to  the  contrast  by  which,  on  week-days,  the 
same  child  went  out  alone,  in  a  little  cloth  frock,  to 
buy  parsley  and  salad  at  a  short  distance  from  home. 
"  It  must  be  owned,"  she  adds, "  that  I  did  not  like 
this  very  well ;  but  I  did  not  show  it,  and  I  had  the 
art  of  doing  my  errands  in  such  a  way  as  to  find  some 
pleasure  in  it.  I  united  such  great  politeness  to  a 
certain  dignity,  that  the  fruit-seller  or  other  person 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MADAME  ROLAND.      49 

of  the  sort,  took  pleasure  in  serving  me  first,  and 
even  those  who  came  before  me  thought  this  proper." 
So  the  little  Philipon  wanted  to  take  the  chief 
place  in  the  fruiterer's  shop,  just  as,  later  on,  she 
desired  it  on  the  political  stage  or  the  Ministry  of 
the  Interior.  This  enemy  of  privileges  will  admit 
them  only  for  herself.  In  everything  she  made  pre- 
tentions :  pretentions  to  elegance,  beauty,  distinction, 
talent,  knowledge,  eloquence,  genius,  and,  when  she 
wanted  to  be  simple,  to  simplicity.  In  her  style  as 
in  her  conversation,  in  her  public  as  in  her  private 
life,  what  she  sought  before  all  things  was  effect.  It 
was  absolutely  essential  that  people  should  talk  about 
her,  that  she  should  be  playing  a  part,  or  standing  on 
a  pedestal.  Assuredly,  if  she  had  a  fault,  it  was  not 
excess  of  modesty.  She  regarded  herself  as  the  flower 
of  her  sex,  a  superior  woman,  made  to  be  loved,  flat- 
tered, and  adored.  She  speaks  of  her  charms  with  the 
precision  of  a  doctor  and  the  enthusiasm  of  a  poet. 
Not  one  of  her  perfections  escapes  her.  It  is  through 
a  magnifying-glass  and  before  a  mirror  that  she  stud- 
ies and  admires  herself.  She  discovers  that  a  society 
in  which  a  woman  so  remarkable  and  so  attractive 
is  not  thoroughly  well  known,  must  be  badly  or- 
ganized. Middle-class  by  birth,  and  aristocratic  by 
instinct,  she  represents  what  one  might  then  have 
called  the  new  social  strata.  A  secret  voice  told 
her  that  the  day  was  to  come  when  she  would  make 
herself  feared  by  the  powerful  of  the  earth,  those 
giants  with  feet  of  clay  who,  at  the  beginning  of  her 


50  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

career,  were  still  looked  at  kneeling.  Banished  by 
fate  from  the  theatre  where  the  human  tragi-comedy 
is  played,  she  said  to  herself:  "I  too  will  have  a 
part  one  of  these  days."  In  the  earliest  stage  of  her 
existence  there  was  in  her  a  confused  medley  of 
uneasiness  and  ambition,  of  spite  and  anger.  She 
had  a  horror  of  the  slightly  disdainful  protection  of 
people  of  quality.  She  conceived  an  aversion  for 
persons  like  that  Demoiselle  d'Hannaches,  "big, 
awkward,  dry,  and  yellow,"  infatuated  with  her 
nobility,  annoying  everybody  with  her  titles,  and 
yet,  in  spite  of  her  ignorance,  her  stiff  manners,  her 
old-fashioned  dress  and  her  follies,  well  received 
everywhere  on  account  of  her  birth. 

Slowly,  but  steadily,  the  future  amazon  of  the 
Revolution  prepared  herself  for  the  combat.  The 
books  which  she  read  and  re-read  incessantly  were 
the  arsenal  whence  she  drew  her  weapons.  One  of 
those  presentiments  which  do  not  deceive,  promised 
her  a  stormy  but  illustrious  destiny.  More  Roman 
than  French,  more  pagan  than  Christian,  she  longed 
for  glory  like  that  of  the  heroines  of  Plutarch,  her 
favorite  author.  In  the  humble  dwelling  of  her 
father,  situated  at  the  corner  of '  the  Pont-Neuf  and 
the  Quai  des  Orf^vres,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  hori- 
zons as  wide  as  her  thoughts.  "  From  the  upper  part 
of  our  house,"  she  says,  "a  great  expanse  offered 
itself  to  my  dreamy  and  romantic  imagination.  How 
often  from  my  north  window  have  I  contemplated 
with  emotion  the  deserts  of  the  sky,  its  superb  azure 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MADAME  ROLAND.      61 

vault  splendidly  outlined  from  the  bluish  dawn  far 
behind  the  Pont  du  Change,  to  the  sunset  gilded 
with  a  faint  purplish  lustre  behind  the  trees  of  the 
Champs  Elys^es  and  the  houses  of  Chaillot." 

Irritated  with  the  obscurity  to  which  she  was  con- 
demned by  fate,  there  was  but  one  resource  which 
could  have  consoled  her  for  the  social  inequalities 
which  bruised  her  vanity  and  her  pride.  That 
resource  would  have  been  religion.  Nothing  but  an 
ideal  of  humility  could  have  appeased  the  interior 
revolts  of  this  soul  of  fire.  To  such  a  woman,  what 
is  lacking  is  heaven.  Earth,  no  matter  what  hap- 
pens, can  give  her  nothing  but  deceptions.  The  only 
moment  of  her  life  when  she  felt  herself  really  happy 
was  that  when  she  enjoyed  the  supreme  good,  peace 
of  heart.  Of  all  parts  of  her  Memoirs,  the  most  pure 
and  touching  are  those  sh^^^devotes  to  her  recol- 
lections  of  the  convent.  One  might  think  that  the 
author  of  MoUd  Had  remembered  them  when  he 
described  in  such  penetrating  terms  the  mystic 
poetry  of  the  cloister,  and  the  regrets  often  engen- 
dered by  the  loss  of  faith  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of 
people  who  have  become  unbelievers. 

The  little  Philipon,  being  in  her  twelfth  year, 
asked  to  be  sent  to  a  convent,  in  order  to  prepare 
better  for  her  first  communion.  She  was  placed  with 
the  Ladies  of  the  Congregation,  rue  Neuve-Saint- 
Etienne,  in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Marcel,  near  Sainte- 
P^lagie,  her  future  prison :  "  How  I  pressed  my 
dear  mamma  in  my  arms  at  the  moment  of  parting 


62  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

from  her  for  the  first  time !  I  was  stifled,  over- 
whelmed ;  but  I  obeyed  the  voice  of  God,  and 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  cloister,  offering  Him 
with  tears  the  greatest  sacrifice  that  I  could  make. 
The  first  night  I  spent  at  the  convent  was  agitated : 
I  was  no  longer  under  the  paternal  roof.  I  felt  that 
I  was  far  from  that  good  mother  who  was  surely 
thinking  of  me  with  tenderness.  There  was  a  feeble 
light  in  the  room  where  I  had  been  put  to  bed,  with 
four  other  children  of  my  own  age ;  I  rose  quietly 
and  went  to  the  window.  The  moonlight  permitted 
me  to  see  the  garden  upon  which  it  looked.  The 
most  profound  silence  reigned;  I  listened  to  it,  so  to 
say,  with  a  sort  of  respect;  great  trees  cast  their 
gigantic  shadows  here  and  there,  and  promised  a  safe 
refuge  for  tranquil  meditation.  I  lifted  my  eyes  to 
the  pure  and  serene  sky,  and  thought  I  felt  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Divinity,  who  smiled  at  my  sacrifice  and 
already  offered  me  its  recompense  in  the  peace  of  a 
celestial  abode.  Delicious  tears  flowed  slowly  down 
my  cheeks ;  I  reiterated  my  vows  with  a  holy  trans- 
port, and  I  enjoyed  the  slumber  of  the  elect." 

As  if  in  these  silent  cloisters,  which  she  crossed 
slowly  so  as  to  enjoy  their  solitude  more  fully,  she 
had  a  presentiment  of  the  storms  in  her  destiny  and 
her  heart,  she  sometimes  stopped  beside  a  tomb 
on  which  was  engraven  the  eulogy  of  a  holy  maiden. 
"  She  is  happy ! "  she  said  to  herself  with  a  sigh. 
While  she  was  in  prison  she  remembered  with  emo- 
tion a  novice's  taking  the  veil :  "  I  experience  yet  the 


THE  BEGINNINGS   OF  MADAME  BOLAND.       53 

thrill  caused  by  her  faintly  tremulous  voice  when  she 
chanted  melodiously  the  customary  versicle  :  '  Elegi: 
Here  I  have  chosen  my  abode,  and  I  will  not  depart 
from  it  forever.'  I  have  not  forgotten  the  notes  of 
this  little  air ;  I  can  repeat  them  as  exactly  as  if  I 
had  heard  them  yesterday." 

Unhappily,  religious  ideas  were  soon  to  undergo  a 
change  in  the  mind  of  the  future  Madame  Roland. 
Returning  to  the  paternal  dwelling,  she  was  badly 
brought  up  there ;  her  mother  let  her  read  every- 
thing, even  Candide.  Voltaire,  Helv^tius,  Diderot, 
had  no  secrets  for  this  young  girl.  Extreme  disorder 
and  confusion  in  mind  and  heart  were  the  result. 
When  she  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  her  mother  at 
the  age  of  twenty-one,  the  book  in  which  she  sought 
consolation  was  the  Nouvelle  HSloise.  Jean-Jacques 
became  her  god.  "  It  seems,"  she  says,  "  as  if  he  were 
my  natural  aliment  and  the  interpreter  of  the  senti- 
ment I  had  already,  and  which  he  alone  knew  how  to 
explain  to  me.  .  .  .  To  have  the  whole  of  Jean- 
Jacques,"  she  says  again,  "to  be  able  to  consult  him 
incessantly,  to  enlighten  and  elevate  one's  self  with 
him  at  all  times  of  life,  is  a  felicity  which  can  only 
be  tasted  by  adoring  him  as  I  did."  Such  reading 
robbed  her  of  faith.  It  made  her  a  free-thinker 
and  a  bluestocking.  It  inspired  her  with  an  un- 
healthy ambition,  sullied  her  imagination,  and  troubled 
the  peace  of  her  heart.  It  deprived  her  of  that  moral 
delicacy,  lacking  which,  even  virtue  itself  loses  its 
charms.     She  was  no  longer  anything  but  a  young 


54  THE  DOWJUFALL  OF  BOTALTY. 

girl,  well-conducted  but  not  pure,  honest  but  shame- 
less. 

Was  not  a  day  coming  when,  a  prisoner  and  on  the 
point  of  getting  into  the  fatal  cart,  she  would  throw 
off  the  terrible  anxieties  of  her  situation  in  order  to 
imitate  the  impurities  of  the  Confessions  of  Jean- 
Jacques,  and  retrace  indecent  details  with  compla- 
cency ?  Do  not  seek  in  her  that  flower  of  innocence 
which  is  the  young  girl's  grace.  The  charming  puri- 
tan does  not  commit  great  faults,  but  she  has 
astonishing  licenses  of  thought  and  speech.  For 
her,  Louvet's  Fauhlas  is  "one  of  those  charming 
romances  known  to  persons  of  taste,  in  which  the 
graces  of  imagination  ally  themselves  to  the  tone  of 
philosophy."  Is  not  this  woman,  who  begins  her  life 
like  a  saint  and  ends  it  as  a  pupil  of  Voltaire  and 
Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  the  symbol  of  that  troubled 
eighteenth  century  which  opened  in  fidelity  to  relig- 
ious faith  and  closed  in  the  depths  of  the  abyss  of 
incredulity  ?  The  ravages  caused  by  bad  reading  in 
the  soul  of  this  young  girl  explain  the  catastrophes  of 
the  entire  century. 

From  the  time  when  she  replaced  the  Gospels  by 
the  Contrat  Social  and  the  Imitation  of  Jesus  Christ 
by  the  Nouvelle  HSloise^  there  was  no  longer  any- 
thing simple  or  natural  remaining  in  the  young 
philosopher.  All  her  thoughts  and  actions  became 
declamatory.  There  was  something  theatrical  in  her 
attitudes  and  gestures,  and  even  in  the  sound  of  her 
voice.    Her  speech  was  rhythmical,  cadenced,  marked 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MADAME  ROLAND.       55 

by  a  special  accent.  Even  her  private  letters  often 
resemble  the  amplifications  of  rhetoric  rather  than 
the  effusions  of  friendship.  One  might  say  that  their 
author  had  a  presentiment  that  they  would  be  printed. 
She  wrote  to  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Cannet,  January 
3,  1776  :  "  In  any  case,  burn  nothing.  Though  my 
letters  were  one  day  to  be  read  by  all  the  world, 
I  would  not  hide  the  only  monuments  of  my  weak- 
ness, and  my  sentiments."  Monuments  of  weakness 
—  is  not  the  expression  worthy  of  the  bombast  of  the 
time? 

Not  finding  love.  Mademoiselle  Philipon  married 
philosophically.  Her  union  bears  a  striking  imitation 
to  that  of  H^loise  with  M.  de  Volmar.  "  Looking  her 
destiny  peacefully  and  tenderly  in  the  face,  greatly 
moved  but  not  infatuated,"  she  united  herself  to  a 
man  whom  she  esteemed  but  did  not  love.  This  was 
Roland  de  la  Platidre,  who  was  descended  from  an 
ancient  and  very  honorable  middle  class  family. 
Though  not  rich,  he  was  at  least  comfortably  well 
off.  Well  educated,  honest,  simple  in  his  tastes  and 
manners,  he  fulfilled  his  duties  as  inspector  of  man- 
ufactures in  a  notable  way.  The  marriage  was  cele- 
brated on  February  4,  1780.  Roland  was  forty-six 
years  old,  while  his  wife  was  not  yet  twenty-six. 
Thin,  bald,  careless  in  his  dress,  the  husband  was  not 
at  all  an  ideal  person.  It  had  taken  him  five  years  to 
declare  his  passion,  and  this  hesitation,  as  his  wife 
was  to  write  thirteen  years  later,  "  left  not  a  vestige 
of  illusion  in  his  sentiments."     "  I  have  often  felt," 


56  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

says  she,  "  that  there  was  no  similarity  between  us. 
If  we  lived  in  retirement,  I  spent  many  painful 
hours ;  if  we  mingled  in  society,  I  was  loved  by  per- 
sons among  whom  I  perceived  there  were  some  who 
might  affect  me  too  much ;  I  plunged  into  labor  with 
my  husband.  ...  It  was  a  long  time  before  I 
gained  courage  to  contradict  him." 

M.  Roland  was  sent  to  Amiens,  where  his  wife  pre- 
sented him  with  a  daughter,  whom  she  nursed,  and 
afterwards  brought  up  with  the  utmost  tenderness 
and  devotion.  In  1784,  he  was  summoned  to  Lyons, 
where  he  found  himself  once  more  in  his  native 
region.  Thenceforward  he  spent  two  of  the  winter 
months  in  Lyons,  and  the  remainder  of  the  year  on 
his  paternal  domain,  the  Close  of  Plati^re,  two  leagues 
from  Villefranche,  surrounded  by  woods  and  vine- 
yards, and  opposite  the  mountains  of  Beaujolais. 
While  her  husband  went  to  take  possession  of  his 
new  post,  Madame  Roland,  not  yet  a  republican, 
remained  a  few  weeks  in  Paris  in  order  to  obtain, 
if  possible,  the  patent  of  nobility  so  ardently  desired 
by  the  family.  Her  solicitations  proved  unsuccess- 
ful, and  the  married  pair,  despairing  of  becoming 
nobles,  consoled  themselves  by  a  frank  avowal  of 
democracy. 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  Madame  Roland's 
life  glided  peacefully  away  without  any  remarkable 
incidents.  In  the  Close  of  Plati^re,  which  she  calls 
her  dovecot,  she  appears  as  a  good  housekeeper  who 
looks  after  everything,  from  the  cellar  to  the  garret ; 


THE  BEGINNINGS   OF  MADAME  BOLANI).        57 

who  plays  the  doctor  among  the  poor  villagers ;  who 
is  delighted  to  find  in  nature  a  savor  of  frank  and 
free  rusticity.  The  life  she  leads  is  not  merely  hon- 
est, but  edifying.  She  is  very  careful  at  this  period 
to  hide  her  philosophy.  She  writes  to  Bosc,  one  of 
her  friends,  February  9,  1785 :  "  My  brother-in-law, 
whose  disposition  is  extremely  gentle  and  sensitive, 
is  also  very  religious;  I  leave  him  the  satisfaction  of 
thinking  that  the  dogmas  are  as  evident  to  me  as 
they  appear  to  him,  and  my  exterior  actions  are  such 
as  become  the  mother  of  a  family  out  in  the  country, 
who  is  bound  to  edify  everybody.  As  I  was  very 
devout  in  my  early  youth,  I  know  my  prayers  as  well 
as  my  philosophy,  and  I  prefer  to  make  use  of  my 
first  erudition."  She  wrote  again  to  Bosc,  October  12, 
1785 :  "  I  have  hardly  touched  a  pen  for  a  month, 
and  I  think  I  am  acquiring  some  of  the  inclinations 
of  the  beast  whose  milk  refreshes  me ;  I  am  extremely 
asinine,  and  I  busy  myself  with  all  the  petty  cares  of 
the  hoggish  country  life.  I  make  preserved  pears 
that  are  delicious;  we  dry  grapes  and  plums;  we 
wash  and  make  up  linen;  we  have  white  wine  for 
breakfast,  and  we  lie  down  on  the  grass  to  rest ;  we 
follow  the  vintagers;  we  repose  in  the  woods  and 
fields." 

Before  looking  at  the  female  politician,  let  us 
glance  once  more  at  the  woman  in  private  life,  the 
charitable,  devoted,  honorable  mother  of  a  family, 
such  as  she  paints  herself  in  a  letter  of  November 
10,  1786 :  "  From  the  corner  of  my  fire,  at  eleven 


58  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  BOTALTT. 

o'clock,  after  a  quiet  night  and  the  various  morning 
cares,  my  husband  at  his  desk,  my  little  girl  knit- 
ting, and  I  chatting  with  one  and  superintending 
the  other's  work,  enjoying  the  happiness  of  being 
snugly  in  the  bosom  of  my  dear  little  family,  writing 
to  a  friend,  while  the  snow  is  falling  on  so  many 
wretches  weighed  down  by  poverty  and  sorrow,  I  am 
touched  with  compassion  for  their  fate ;  I  turn  back 
sweetly  to  my  own,  and  at  this  moment  I  count  as 
nothing  the  annoyances  of  relations  or  circumstances 
which  seem  occasionally  to  mar  its  felicity." 

Alas,  why  did  not  Madame  Roland  stay  in  her 
modest  country-house  to  dry  her  grapes  and  plums, 
to  superintend  her  washing,  mend  her  linen,  and 
spread  out  in  her  garret  the  fruits  for  winter  use? 
Were  not  obscurity,  repose,  peace  of  heart,  better  for 
her  than  that  fictitious  glory  which  was  to  pass  so 
quickly  and  end  upon  the  scaffold  ?  One  might  say 
that  before  quitting  nature,  that  great  consoler  which 
calms  and  does  not  betray,  in  order  to  plunge  herself 
into  the  odious  world  of  politics,  which  spoils  and 
embitters  the  most  beautiful  souls,  she  experiences 
a  certain  vague  regret  for  the  sweet  and  tranquil 
joys  which  her  folly  was  about  to  cause  her  to 
renounce  forever. 

"The  weather  is  delightful,"  wrote  Madame  Ro- 
land, May  17, 1790 ;  "  the  country  has  changed  almost 
beyond  recognition  in  only  six  days ;  the  vines  and 
walnuts  were  as  black  as  they  are  in  winter,  but  a 
stroke  of  the  magic  wand  does  not  alter  the  aspect  of 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MADAME  ROLANB.        59 

things  more  quickly  than  the  heat  of  a  few  fine  days 
has  done;  everything  turns  green  and  leafs  out;  a 
soft  verdure  is  visible  where  there  was  nothing  but 
the  dull  and  faded  tint  of  torpor  and  inaction.  I 
could  easily  forget  public  affairs  and  men's  contro- 
versies here ;  content  to  arrange  the  manor,  to  see 
my  fowls  brood,  and  take  care  of  my  rabbits,  I  would 
care  nothing  more  about  the  revolutions  of  empires. 
But,  as  soon  as  I  am  in  the  city,  the  poverty  of  the 
people  and  the  insolence  of  the  rich  rouse  my  hatred 
of  injustice  and  oppression:  I  have  no  longer  any 
soul  or  desire  except  for  the  triumph  of  great  truths 
and  the  success  of  our  regeneration." 

The  die  is  cast.^  The  daughter  of  Philipon  the 
engraver  is  about  to  become  a  political  woman.  The 
hour  is  come  when  this  great  actress,  who  has  long 
known  her  part,  is  at  last  going  on  the  stage.  She 
has  a  presentiment  of  the  risk  she  is  running  in 
assuming  a  task  which  is  beyond  her  sex.  But,  like 
soldiers  who  love  danger  for  danger's  sake,  and  pre- 
fer the  emotions  of  the  battle-field  to  garrison  life, 
she  will  joyfully  quit  her  province  and  throw  herself 
,into  the  seething  furnace  of  Paris.  Even  though  she 
is  to  meet  persecution  and  death  at  the  end  of  her 
new  career,  she  will  not  recoil.  A  short  but  agitated 
life  will  seem  better  to  her  than  a  long  and  fortunate 
existence  without  violent  emotions.  A  clear  sky 
pleases  her  no  longer.  She  is  homesick  for  storms 
and  lightning  flashes. 


VI. 

MADAME  ROLAND'S  ENTRANCE  ON  THE  SCENE. 

THE  hour  of  the  Revolution  had  struck,  and, 
ambitious,  unbelieving,  full  of  disdain  for  the 
leading  classes,  full  of  confidence  in  her  own  superi- 
ority, active,  eloquent,  impassioned,  uniting  the  lan- 
guage of  an  orator  to  the  seductions  of  a  charming 
woman,  Madame  Roland  was  ripe  for  the  Revolution. 
Her  epoch  suited  her,  and  she  suited  her  epoch. 
This  pagan  who,  according  to  her  own  expression, 
roamed  mentally  in  Greece,  attended  the  Olympic 
games,  and  despised  herself  for  being  French ;  this 
fanatical  admirer  of  antiquity  who,  at  eight  years 
of  age,  carried  Plutarch  to  church  with  her  instead  of 
a  missal,  who  styled  Roland  the  virtuous  as  the  Athe- 
nians called  Aristides  the  just,  who  will  die  like  her 
heroes,  Socrates  and  Phocion ;  this  student  who,  at 
another  period,  would  have  been  rated  as  an  under- 
bred woman  of  the  middle  class,  a  more  or  less  ridicu- 
lous bluestocking,  suddenly  found  herself,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  general  panic  and  circumstances  as 
strange  as  they  were  unforeseen,  the  very  ideal  of  the 
society  in  which  she  lived.  For  several  months  she 
was  to  be  its  fashionable  type,  its  favorite  heroine. 
60 


EEB   ENTRANCE  ON   THE  SCENE.  61 

But  the  Revolution  was  a  Saturn  who  devoured  his 
children,  male  and  female,  and  the  Egeria  of  the 
Girondins  expiated  bitterly  the  intoxication  caused 
by  her  brief  popularity. 

In  1777,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  she  had  writ- 
ten :  "  Gay  and  jesting  speeches  fall  from  this  mouth 
which  sobs  at  night  upon  its  pillow ;  a  laugh  dwells 
on  my  lips,  while  my  tears,  shut  up  within  my  heart, 
at  length  make  on  it,  in  spite  of  its  hardness,  the 
effect  produced  by  water  on  a  stone  :  falling  drop  by 
drop,  they  insensibly  wear  it  awa3\"  In  1791,  when 
she  was  thirty-eight,  she  wrote :  "  The  phenomena 
of  nature,  which  make  the  vulgar  grow  pale,  and 
which  are  imposing  even  to  the  philosophical  eye, 
offer  nothing  to  a  sensitive  person  preoccupied  with 
great  concerns,  but  scenes  inferior  to  those  of  which 
her  own  heart  is  the  theatre."  The  flame  consuming 
the  eloquent  and  ardent  disciple  of  Rousseau  was  in 
need  of  fuel,  and,  finding  this  in  politics,  she  threw 
herself  upon  it  with  a  sort  of  ravenous  fury,  just 
as  she  had  once  abandoned  herself  to  study.  At 
twenty-two  she  had  written  to  one  of  her  young 
friends :  "  You  scold  me  for  studying  too  hard. 
Bear  in  mind,  then,  that  unless  I  did  so,  love  might 
perhaps  excite  my  imagination  to  frenzy.  It  is  a 
necessary  distraction.  I  am  not  trying  to  become  a 
learned  woman ;  I  study  because  I  need  to  study, 
as  I  do  to  eat."  It  was  thus  that  Madame  Roland 
plunged  into  politics.  All  her  unappeased  instincts 
and  repressed  forces  found  their  outlet  in  that 
direction. 


62  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Woman  being  formed  by  nature  to  be  dominated, 
nothing  is  more  agreeable  to  her  than  to  invert  the 
parts,  and  in  her  turn  to  domineer.  To  exert  in- 
fluence in  public  affairs,  to  designate  or  support  the 
candidates  for  great  offices  of  State,  to  organize  or 
direct  a  ministry,  to  make  themselves  listened  to  by 
serious  men,  to  inspire  opinions  or  systems,  is  to 
ambitious  women  a  kind  of  revenge  for  their  sex. 
Those  who  have  acquired  a  habit  of  exercising  this 
sort  of  power  cannot  relinquish  it  without  extreme 
reluctance.  If  they  have  once  persuaded  themselves 
of  their  superiority  to  men,  nothing  can  ever  root 
the  conviction  from  their  minds.  To  be  protected 
humiliates  them ;  what  they  long  for  most  of  all  is 
to  be  acknowledged  as  protectresses.  Self-deluded, 
they  attribute  to  their  passion  for  the  public  welfare 
what  is,  especially  in  their  case,  the  need  of  petty 
glory,  the  thirst  for  emotions,  or  the  amusement  of 
pride  and  vanity. 

The  Revolutionary  bluestocking,  Madame  Roland, 
was  from  the  very  start  delighted  to  see  that  her 
works  were  printed,  and  that  they  produced  as  much 
effect  as  if  they  had  been  written  by  some  great 
statesman.  These  first  successes  seemed  to  her  to 
justify  the  excellent  opinion  she  had  always  enter- 
tained of  herself.  She  got  into  a  habit  of  playing 
the  oracle.  No  sooner  had  her  lips  touched  the  cup 
containing  this  poisonous  but  intoxicating  beverage 
than  she  would  have  no  other.  That  alone  could 
refresh,  even  while  it  killed  her. 


HER  ENTRANCE  ON   THE  SCENE.  63 

Politics  has  the  immense  defect  of  exasperating, 
troubling,  and  disfiguring  souls.  Madame  Roland 
was  born  good,  sensible,  and  generous.  Politics 
made  her  at  times  wicked,  vindictive,  and  cruel. 
July  26,  1789,  she  wrote  this  odious  letter :  "  You 
are  nothing  but  children ;  your  enthusiasm  is  a  fire 
of  straw,  and  if  the  National  Assembly  does  not 
order  the  trial  of  two  illustrious  heads,  or  some 
generous  Decius  does  not  strike  them  down,  you  are 
all  .  .  .  lost "  (Madame  Roland  employed  a  more 
trivial  expression).  "If  this  letter  does  not  reach 
you,  may  the  cowards  who  read  it  redden  to  learn 
that  it  is  from  a  woman,  and  tremble  in  reflecting 
that  she  can  create  a  hundred  enthusiasts  from  whom 
will  proceed  a  million  others."  Roland  had  been 
employed  by  the  Agricultural  Society  of  Lyons  to 
draw  up  its  reports  for  the  States- General.  Madame 
Roland  wrote  much  more  of  them  than  her  husband 
did.  She  sent  article  on  article  to  a  journal  founded 
by  Champagneux  to  forward  the  revolutionary  propa- 
ganda. Sixty  thousand  copies  were  printed  of  one 
of  them  in  which  she  described  the  festival  of  the 
Federation  at  Lyons.  Imagine  the  joy  felt  by  the 
femme-auteur,  the  pupil  of  Jean-Jacques,  the  model 
of  George  Sand !  Soon  afterwards,  the  municipality 
deputed  Rolaud  to  the  Constituent  Assembly  to 
advocate  the  interests  of  the  city,  which  was  in- 
volved to  the  extent  of  forty  millions,  and  which 
asked  to  have  this  debt  assumed  by  the  State. 
Roland  and  his  wife  arrived  in  Paris,  February  20, 
1791. 


64  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

The  married  pair  installed  themselves  on  the  third 
floor  of  the  hotel  Britannique,  in  rue  Gudn^gaud. 
There  a  sort  of  political  reunion  was  formed,  of 
which  Brissot  was  the  first  link.  Four  times  a  week 
a  few  friends,  and  certain  deputies  and  journalists, 
met  around  this  still  unknown  woman,  whose  wit, 
charm,  and  beauty  were  not  long  in  making  a  sensa- 
tion. It  was  at  this  period  that  she  made  Buzot's 
acquaintance.  The  day  of  her  first  interview  with 
the  young  and  brilhant  deputy  was  an  epoch  in  her 
sentimental  life.  Thenceforward,  two  passions,  love 
and  ambition,  the  one  as  fierce  and  devouring  as  the 
other,  were  to  occupy  her  ardent  soul.  Comparing 
the  young  orator,  whom  she  perhaps  transformed  in 
her  imagination  into  the  president  of  a  more  or  less 
Athenian  republic,  with  the  austere  and  prosaic  com- 
panion of  her  existence,  she  perceived  that,  according 
to  her  own  expression,  there  was  no  equality  between 
her  and  her  husband,  and  that  "the  ascendency  of 
a  domineering  character,  joined  to  twenty  years'  sen- 
iority, rendered  one  of  these  superiorities  too  great " 
—  that  of  age.  She  was  herself  six  years  older  than 
Buzot.  Even  though  her  love  for  him  may  have  re- 
mained Platonic,  she  gave  him  all  her  heart  and  soul. 

For  the  majority  of  women,  still  beautiful,  who 
mingle  in  public  affairs,  love  is  the  principal  thing; 
politics  but  the  accessory,  the  pretext.  They  imagine 
they  are  attaching  themselves  to  ideas,  and  it  is  to 
men.  In  this  respect  the  heroines  of  the  Revolution 
resemble  those  of  the  Fronde.     The  stateswoman  in 


HER   ENTRANCE  ON    THE  SCENE.  65 

Madame  Roland  plays  second  to  the  lover  of  Buzot. 
In  her  mind  the  Republic  and  the  handsome  republi- 
can blend  into  one.  Believing  herself  a  patriot  when 
she  is  above  all  a  woman  in  love,  she  carries  the  emo- 
tions, the  infatuations,  the  ardors  and  exaggerations 
of  her  private  life  into  her  public  one.  With  her, 
angers  and  enthusiasms  rise  to  paroxysm.  She  is 
extreme  in  all  things. 

She  detests  Louis  XVI.  as  much  as  she  loves 
Buzot.  After  the  flight  to  Varennes,  she  wrote : 
"To  replace  the  King  on  the  throne  is  a  folly,  an 
absurdity,  if  it  is  not  a  horror;  to  declare  him  de- 
mented is  to  make  obligatory  the  appointment  of  a 
regent.  To  impeach  Louis  XVI.  would  be,  beyond 
all  contradiction,  the  greatest  and  most  righteous 
step,  but  you  are  incapable  of  taking  it.  Well  then, 
put  him  not  exactly  under  interdict,  but  suspend 
him."  Here  begins  the  influence  of  Madame  Roland. 
The  suspension  of  the  royal  authority  is  one  of  her 
ideas.  "  So  long  as  peace  lasted,"  she  says,  "  I  ad- 
hered to  the  peaceful  r61e  and  to  that  kind  of  influ- 
ence which  I  thought  fitting  to  my  sex ;  when  war 
was  declared  by  the  King's  departure,  it  appeared  to 
me  that  every  one  should  devote  himself  unreserv- 
edly. I  joined  the  fraternal  societies,  being  per- 
suaded that  zeal  and  good  intentions  might  be  very 
useful  in  critical  moments.  I  was  unable  to  stay  at 
home  any  longer,  and  I  went  to  the  houses  of  worthy 
people  of  my  acquaintance  that  we  might  excite  each 
other   to   great   measures."      One   knows   what   the 


66  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Revolution  meant  by  that  expression:  great  meas- 
ures. Madame  Roland  became  furious.  She  wanted 
a  freedom  of  the  press  without  check  or  limit.  She 
was  angry  because  Marat's  newspapers  were  destroyed 
by  the  satellites  of  Lafayette.  "  It  is  a  cruel  thing 
to  think  of,"  she  exclaims,  "but  it  becomes  every 
day  more  evident  that  peace  means  retrogression, 
and  that  we  can  only  be  regenerated  by  blood." 

Her  hatred  includes  both  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette.  June  25,  1791,  she  writes :  "  It  appears 
to  me  that  the  King  ought  to  be  sequestered  and  his 
wife  impeached."  And  on  July  1 :  "  The  King  has 
sunk  to  the  lowest  depths  of  degradation ;  his  trick 
has  exposed  him  completely,  and  he  inspires  nothing 
but  contempt.  His  name,  his  portrait,  and  his  arms 
have  been  effaced  everywhere.  Notaries  have  been 
obliged  to  take  down  the  escutcheons  marked  with  a 
flower-de-luce  which  served  to  designate  their  houses. 
He  is  called  nothing  but  Louis  the  False,  or  the 
great  hog.  Caricatures  of  every  sort  represent  him 
under  emblems  which,  though  not  the  most  odious, 
are  the  most  suitable  to  nourish  and  augment  popu- 
lar disdain.  The  people  tend  of  their  own  accord  to 
all  that  can  express  this  sentiment,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible that  they  should  ever  again  be  willing  to  see 
seated  on  the  throne  a  being  they  despise  so  com- 
pletely." 

Things  did  not  go  fast  enough  to  suit  Madame 
Roland's  furious  hatred.  The  popular  gathering  in 
the  Champ-de-Mars,  whose  aim  was  to  bring  about 


IIER  ENTRANCE  ON    THE  SCENE.  67 

the  deposition  of  the  King,  was  forcibly  dispersed  on 
July  17.  With  six  exceptions,  all  the  deputies  who 
had  belonged  either  to  the  Jacobin  Club  or  that  of 
the  Cordeliers,  left  them  on  account  of  their  demand 
that  Louis  XVI.  should  be  brought  to  trial.  The 
time  for  great  measures,  to  use  Madame  Roland's 
expression,  had  not  yet  arrived.  The  ardent  demo- 
crat laments  it.  "  I  cannot  describe  our  situation  to 
you,"  she  writes  at  this  moment  of  the  revolution- 
ary recoil;  "I  feel  environed  by  a  silent  horror;  my 
heart  grows  steadfast  in  a  mournful  and  solemn 
silence,  ready  to  sacrifice  all  rather  than  cease  to 
defend  principles,  but  not  knowing  the  moment  when 
they  can  triumph,  and  forming  no  resolution  but  that 
of  giving  a  great  example." 

The  mission  which  had  kept  Roland  in  Paris  for 
seven  months  being  ended,  the  discouraged  pair  re- 
turned to  their  province  in  September.  After  stop- 
ping a  few  days  in  Lyons,  in  order  to  found  a  popular 
society  afiiliated  to  the  Jacobins  of  the  capital,  they 
went  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  autumn  at  their 
country  place,  the  Close  of  Plati^re.  But  calm  and 
silence  no  longer  suited  Madame  Roland.  Repose 
exasperated  her.  She  missed  the  struggle  and  the 
emotions  of  revolutionary  Paris,  of  which  she  had 
said :  "  One  lives  ten  years  here  in  twenty-four  hours ; 
events  and  affections  blend  with  and  succeed  each 
other  with  singular  rapidity ;  no  such  great  events 
ever  occupied  minds." 

The  pleasure  of  seeing  her  daughter  again  was  not 


68  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

enough  to  compensate  her  for  the  chagrin  of  having 
parted  from  Buzot.  Just  as  she  was  despairing  at 
the  thought  of  sinking  back  into  all  the  nullity  of 
the  province,  as  she  expresses  it,  the  news  came 
that  the  inspectors  of  agriculture  had  been  suppressed. 
Roland,  no  longer  an  official,  deliberated  with  his 
wife  as  to  their  next  step.  His  own  inclination  was 
to  settle  permanently  in  the  country  and  devote  him- 
self to  agricultural  labors  which  would  surely  and 
safely  augment  his  fortune.  But  his  wife  was  by  no 
means  of  the  same  mind.  She  must  see  her  dear 
Buzot  again  at  any  cost.  She  flattered  the  self-love 
of  her  unsuspecting  spouse,  and  persuaded  him  that 
Paris  was  the  sole  theatre  worthy  of  the  virtuous 
Roland.  Roland  allowed  himself  to  be  convinced. 
His  wife,  no  longer  mistress  of  herself,  was  drawn 
into  the  Parisian  abyss  as  by  an  irresistible  force. 
And  yet  was  it  not  she  who  had  proposed  to  herself 
this  ideal,  so  easily  to  have  been  realized?  "I  have 
never  imagined  anything  more  desirable  than  a  life 
divided  between  domestic  cares  and  those  of  agricul- 
ture, spent  on  a  healthy  and  fertile  farm,  with  a  little 
family  where  the  example  of  its  heads  and  common 
labor  maintain  attachment,  peace,  and  freedom." 
Was  it  not  she  who  had  uttered  this  profoundly  true 
thought :  "  I  see  neither  pleasure  nor  happiness  ex- 
cept in  the  reunion  of  that  which  charms  the  heart  as 
well  as  the  senses,  and  costs  no  regrets"?  In  the 
most  beautiful  days  of  her  youth  had  she  not  writ- 
ten :  "  There  was  a  time  when  I  was  never  content 


HER  ENTRANCE  ON   THE  SCENE.  69 

except  when  I  had  a  book  or  a  pen  in  my  hand ;  at 
present  I  am  as  well  satisfied  when  I  have  made  a  shirt 
for  my  father  or  added  up  an  account  of  expenses  as 
if  I  had  read  something  profound.  I  do  not  care  at 
all  to  be  learned ;  I  want  to  be  good  and  happy ;  that 
is  my  chief  business.  What  is  necessary  but  good, 
honest  common  sense  ?  "  Is  it  not  she,  too,  who  will 
write  at  the  beginning  of  her  Memoirs :  "  I  have 
observed  that  in  all  classes,  ambition  is  generally 
fatal;  for  the  few  happy  ones  whom  it  exalts,  it 
makes  a  multitude  of  victims."  Why  did  she  not 
more  frequently  remind  herself  of  the  sentiment  so 
just  and  well  expressed  in  a  letter  dated  in  1790 : 
"  Women  are  not  made  to  share  in  all  the  occupations 
of  men :  they  are  altogether  bound  to  domestic  cares 
and  virtues,  and  they  cannot  turn  away  from  them 
without  destroying  their  happiness."  But,  alas ! 
passion  does  not  reason.  Farewell  common  sense, 
wisdom,  and  experience,  when  ambition  and  love  have 
taken  possession  of  a  woman's  heart.  Returning  to 
Paris,  December  15,  1791,  the  Rolands  established 
themselves  in  the  rue  de  la  Harpe,  and  plunged  head- 
long into  politics.  The  wife  redoubled  her  activii;y, 
eloquence,  and  passion.  The  husband,  instead  of 
attending  quietly  to  the  management  of  his  retiring 
pension,  was  named  a  member  of  the  Jacobin  corre- 
sponding committee  at  the  beginning  of  1792,  a  revo- 
lutionary centre  of  which  Brissot  was  the  leader.  At 
this  period,  we  are  informed  by  Madame  Roland,  the 
intimidated  court  imagined  that  the  nomination  of  a 


70  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

minister  chosen  from  among  the  patriots  of  the  As- 
sembly would  cause  it  to  regain  a  little  popularity. 
Brissot  proposed  Roland,  who,  on  March  24,  1792, 
accepted  the  portfolio  of  the  Interior. 

Madame,  behold  yourself,  then,  the  wife  of  a  min- 
ister, and  in  fact  more  of  a  minister  than  your  hus- 
band. Your  ambitious  projects,  which  have  been 
treated  as  chimerical,  are  now  realized.  You  have  a 
cortege  like  Marie  Antoinette.  Men  seek  the  favor 
of  a  smile,  a  word,  from  you.  They  court,  they  solicit, 
they  fear  you.  The  monarchy,  which  you  detest,  is 
at  last  obliged  to  reckon  with  you  and  your  friends. 
Your  beauty,  your  talent,  and  your  eloquence  are 
boasted  of.  Your  name  is  in  every  mouth.  You  are 
powerful,  you  are  celebrated.  Well!  you  will  find 
out  for  yourself  what  bitterness  there  is  at  the  bottom 
of  this  cup  of  pride  which  has  tempted  your  lips  so 
long.  You  will  learn  at  your  own  expense  that  re- 
nown does  not  produce  happiness,  and  that,  for  a 
woman,  twilight  is  better  than  the  full  glare  of  day. 
Yes,  you  will  long  for  the  obscurity  which  weighed 
upon  you.  You  will  long  for  the  house  of  your  father, 
the  engraver,  on  the  Quai  des  Orfevres.  You  will 
dream  of  the  sunsets  which  affected  you,  and  of  the 
monotonous  but  peaceful  succession  of  your  days. 
You,  the  deist,  the  female  philosopher,  will  recall 
with  regret  the  cloisters  where  in  your  adolescence 
you  tasted  the  peace  of  the  elect.  In  the  time  of 
your  supreme  trial  Buzot's  miniature  will  not  console 
you ;  it  is  not  his  image  you  should  cover  with  your 


HER  ENTRANCE  ON   THE  SCENE.  71 

kisses.  No;  that  miniature  is  not  the  viaticum  for 
eternity.  What  you  will  need  is  the  crucifix,  and 
you  respect  the  crucifix  no  longer.  And  yet  your 
imagination  will  evoke  the  mystic  cloister,  with  its 
altars  decked  with  flowers,  its  painted  windows,  its 
penetrating  and  ineilable  poesy.  And  in  thought, 
also,  you  will  see  the  country  once  more,  the  harvest 
time,  the  month  of  the  vintage,  the  poor  who  come 
to  the  door  asking  for  bread  and  who  go  away  with 
blessings  on  their  lips  and  gratitude  in  their  hearts. 
Why  have  you  quitted  these  honest  people  ?  What 
have  you  come  to  do  in  the  midst  of  these  ferocious 
Jacobins,  who  flatter  you  to-day  and  will  assassinate 
you  to-morrow  ?  Do  you  fancy  that  Marie  Antoi- 
nette is  the  only  woman  who  will  be  insulted,  calum- 
niated, and  betrayed?  Why  do  you  seat  at  your 
hospitable  table  this  livid-faced  Robespierre,  who  to- 
day, perhaps,  will  address  you  a  madrigal,  and 
to-morrow  send  you  to  the  scaffold  ?  You  will  pay 
very  dear  for  these  false  and  artificial  joys,  these 
gusts  of  commonplace  vanity,  this  pride  of  a  parvenu, 
and  the  pleasure  of  presiding  for  a  few  evenings  at 
the  dinners  given  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  in 
Calonne's  dining-room.  The  Legislative  Assembly, 
the  Jacobin  Club,  the  journals  and  the  ministry,  the 
souvenirs  of  Plutarch  and  the  parodies  of  Jean- 
Jacques,  the  noisy  crowd  of  flatterers  who  are  the 
courtiers  of  demagogues  as  they  would  have  been 
the  courtiers  of  kings,  these  adulators  who  are  going 
to  change  into  executioners,  —  all  are  vanity  !     Poor 


72  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 

woman,  whose  power  will  be  so  ephemeral,  why  do 
you  make  yourself  a  persecutor  ?  You  will  so  soon 
be  persecuted.  Why  labor  so  relentlessly  to  shake 
the  foundations  of  a  throne  that  will  bury  you  be- 
neath its  ruins? 


VII. 

MAEIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  EOLAND. 

TWO  women  find  themselves  confronted  across 
the  chessboa,rd  and  about  to  move  the  pieces 
in  a  terrible  game  in  which  each  stakes  her  head,  and 
each  is  foredoomed  to  lose.  One  is  the  woman  who 
represents  the  old  regime  —  the  daughter  of  the  Ger- 
man Caesars,  the  Queen  of  France  and  Navarre ;  the 
other  stands  for  the  new  r(^gime,  the  Parisian  middle 
classes  —  the  daughter  of  the  engraver  of  the  Quai  des 
Orf^vres.  They  are  nearly  the  same  age.  Madame 
Roland  was  born  March  18,  1754 ;  and  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, November  2,  1755.  Both  are  beautiful,  and 
both  are  conscious  of  their  charm.  Each  exercises  a 
sort  of  domination  over  all  who  approach  her. 

In  1792,  when  Roland  enters  the  ministry,  Marie 
Antoinette  is  no  longer  thinking  of  coquetry,  luxury, 
or  dress.  The  heroine  of  the  Gallery  of  the  Mirrors, 
the  crowned  shepherdess  of  the  Trianon,  the  queen 
of  elegance,  pleasure,  and  fashion  is  not  recognizable 
in  her.  The  time  for  splendors  is  over,  like  the  time 
for  pastorals.  No  more  festivals,  no  more  distractions, 
no  more  theatres.  Incessant  anxieties  and  unremitting 
labor;  writing  throughout  the  day  and  reading,  medi- 

73 


74  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

tating,  and  praying  throughout  the  night,  are  now  the 
unfortunate  sovereign's  whole  existence.  She  hardly 
sleeps.  Her  eyes  are  reddened  by  tears.  A  single 
night,  that  of  the  arrest  on  the  journey  to  Varennes, 
had  sufficed  to  whiten  her  hair.  She  wears  mourning 
for  her  brother,  the  Emperor  Leopold,  and  for  her 
ally,  the  King  of  Sweden,  Gustavus  III.,  and  one 
might  say  that  she  is  also  wearing  it  for  the  French 
monarchy.  All  trace  of  frivolity  has  disappeared. 
The  severe  and  majestic  countenance  of  the  woman 
who  suffers  so  cruelly  as  queen,  spouse,  and  mother, 
is  sanctified  by  the  double  poetry  of  religion  and 
sorrow. 

Madame  Roland,  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  coquet- 
tish than  she  has  ever  been.  The  actress  who  has  at 
last  found  her  theatre  and  is  very  proud  to  play  her 
part,  wishes  to  allure,  desires  to  reign.  She  delights 
in  presiding  at  these  political  dinners  where  all  the 
guests  are  men,  and  of  which  her  grace  and  eloquence 
constitute  the  charm.  She  has  just  completed  her 
thirty-eighth  year.  Her  husband  is  nearly  fifty-eight ; 
Buzot  is  only  thirty-two.  Possibly  she  is  still  more 
preoccupied  with  love  than  with  ambition.  To  use 
one  of  her  own  expressions,  "her  heart  swells  with 
the  desire  to  please,"  to  please  Buzot  above  all ;  she 
takes  pains  to  celebrate  her  own  beauty,  which,  in 
spite  of  showing  symptoms  of  decline,  has  the  brill- 
iance of  sunset.  In  her  Memoirs  she  describes  her 
*'  large  and  superbly  modelled  bust,  her  light,  quick 
step,  her  frank  and  open  glance,  at  once  keen  and 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  ROLAND.   75 

soft,  which  sometimes  amazes,  but  which  caresses  still 
more,  and  always  quickens."  She  writes :  "  My  mouth 
is  rather  large;  there  are  a  thousand  prettier,  but 
none  that  has  a  softer  and  more  seductive  smile." 
In  prison,  when  she  is  nearly  forty,  she  states  that  if 
she  has  lost  some  of  her  attractions,  yet  she  needs  no 
help  from  art  to  make  her  look  five  or  six  years 
younger.  "  Even  those  who  see  me  every  day,"  she 
adds,  "  require  to  be  told  my  age,  in  order  to  believe 
me  more  than  thirty-two  or  thirty-three."  Madame 
Roland  had  at  first  written  thirty-three  or  thirty-four. 
-But  after  reflection,  finding  herself  too  modest,  she 
made  an  erasure  and  retrenched  another  year.  She 
adds  that  she  made  very  little  use  of  her  charms ; 
avowing  at  the  same  time,  and  with  the  most  absolute 
frankness,  that  if  she  could  reconcile  her  duty  with 
her  inclination  to  utilize  them  more  fully,  she  would 
not  be  sorry. 

'  Both  Marie  Antoinette  and  Madame  Roland  were 
political  women.  But  the  one  became  so  in  her  own 
despite,  in  the  hope  of  saving  the  life  of  her  husband 
and  the  heritage  of  her  son  ;  the  other,  through  ambi- 
tion and  the  desire  to  play  a  part  for  which  her  origin 
had  not  destined  her.  In  the  one,  everything  is  at 
once  noble  and  simple,  natural  and  majestic ;  in  the 
other  there  is  always  something  affected  and  theatri- 
cal ;  one  scents  the  parvenue  who  will  never  be  a 
grande  dame.,  even  in  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior  or 
at  the  house  of  Calonne.  All  is  unstudied  in  Marie 
Antoinette ;  Madame  Roland,  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
artist  in  coquetry. 


76  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Bizarre  caprice  of  fate  which  makes  political  rivals 
and  adversaries  treating  with  each  other  on  equal  terms 
of  these  two  women,  of  whom  one  was  so  much  above 
the  other  by  rank  and  birth.  The  Tuileries  and  the 
house  of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  are  like  two  hos- 
tile citadels  at  a  stone's  throw  from  each  other.  On 
both  sides  there  is  watchfulness  and  fear.  An  impas- 
sable abyss,  hollowed  out  by  the  vanity  of  the  com- 
moner still  more  than  b}"-  the  pride  of  the  Queen, 
forever  separates  these  two  courageous  women  who, 
had  they  united  instead  of  antagonizing  each  other, 
might  have  saved  both  their  country  and  themselves. 

It  is  necessary  to  go  back  a  few  years  in  order  to 
comprehend  the  motive  of  Madame  Roland's  hatred 
for  Marie  Antoinette.  It  was  inspired  in  the  vain 
commoner  by  envy,  the  worst  and  vilest  of  all  coun- 
sellors. Madame  Roland's  special  characteristic  was 
the  passion  for  making  an  effect.  Now  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  Marie  Antoinette  under  the  old  regime  was 
immense  ;  that  produced  by  the  future  Egeria  of  the 
Girondin  group  was  almost  niill.  A  simple  mortal, 
regarding  Olympus  from  below,  she  said  to  herself 
with  vexation,  that  in  spite  of  her  talents  and  her 
charms  there  was  no  place  for  her  among  the  gods 
and  goddesses.  Versailles  was  like  a  superior  world 
from  which  it  maddened  her  to  be  excluded.  She  was 
twenty  years  old  when,  in  1774,  she  visited  it  with 
her  mother,  her  uncle,  the  Abb^  Bimont,  and  an  aged 
gentlewoman,  Mademoiselle  d'Hannaches.  They  all 
lodged  at  the  palace.     One  of   Marie   Antoinette's 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  ROLAND.   77 

women,  who  was  acquainted  with  the  Abb^,  and  who 
was  not  then  on  duty,  lent  them  her  apartment.  The 
only  object  of  the  excursion  was  to  give  the  young 
girl  a  near  view  of  the  court. 

In  recalling  this  souvenir  in  her  Memoirs,  Madame 
Roland  displays  her  aversion  for  the  old  society.  She 
is  annoyed  even  with  the  companion  of  her  visit,  be- 
cause she  was,  according  to  the  expression  then  in 
use,  a  person  of  quality.  "  Mademoiselle  d'Han- 
naches,"  she  says,  "  went  boldly  wherever  she  chose, 
ready  to  fling  her  name  in  the  face  of  any  one  who 
tried  to  stop  her,  thinking  they  ought  to  be  able  to 
read  on  her  grotesque  visage  her  six  hundred  years 
of  established  nobility.  The  fine  figure  of  a  pedantic 
little  cleric  like  the  Abbe  Bimont,  and  the  imbecile 
pride  of  the  ugly  d'Hannaches  were  not  out  of  keep- 
ing in  those  scenes ;  but  the  unpainted  face  of  my 
worthy  mamma,  and  the  modesty  of  my  dress,  an- 
nounced that  we  were  commoners  ;  if  my  eyes  or  my 
youth  provoked  remark,  it  was  almost  patronizing, 
and  caused  me  nearly  as  much  displeasure  as  Ma- 
dame de  Boismorel's  compliments."  It  was  this  Ma- 
dame de  Boismorel  who,  although  she  found  the  little 
Philipon  very  pleasing,  had  said  to  the  grandmother 
of  the  future  Madame  Roland :  "  Take  care  that  she 
does  not  become  a  learned  women ;  it  would  be  a 
great  pity." 

The  splendors  of  Versailles  did  not  dazzle  the 
daughter  of  the  engraver  of  the  Quai  des  Orfdvres. 
The  apartment  she  occupied  was  at  the  top  of  the 


78  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

palace,  in  the  same  corridor  as  that  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  and  so  near  it  that  it  was  necessary  for  the 
prelate  to  take  precautions  lest  she  should  overhear 
him  talk.  "  Two  poorly  furnished  rooms,"  she  says, 
"  in  the  upper  end  of  one  of  which  space  had  been 
contrived  for  a  valet's  bed,  was  the  habitation  which 
a  duke  and  peer  of  France  esteemed  himself  honored 
in  possessing,  in  order  to  be  closer  at  hand  to  cringe 
every  morning  at  the  lev^e  of  Their  Majesties :  and 
yet  he  was  the  rigorist  Beaumont.  .  .  .  The  ordi- 
nary and  the  ceremonial  table-service  of  the  entire 
family,  eating  separately  or  all  together,  the  masses, 
the  promenades,  the  gaming,  the  presentations,  had 
us  for  spectators  during  a  week."  What  impres- 
sion was  made  on  her  by  this  excursion  to  the  royal 
palace  ?  She  herself  will  tell  us  nineteen  years  later, 
in  her  prison.  "  I  was  not  insensible,"  she  says,  "  to 
the  effect  of  so  much  pomp  and  ceremony,  but  I  was 
indignant  that  its  object  should  be  to  exalt  certain 
individuals  already  too  powerful  and  of  very  slight 
pereonal  importance :  I  liked  much  better  to  look  at 
the  statues  in  the  gardens  than  at  the  persons  in  the 
palace ;  and  when  my  mother  asked  if  I  was  satis- 
fied with  my  visit,  '  Yes,'  I  replied,  '  provided  it  will 
soon  be  over ;  if  I  stay  here  many  days  longer,  I  shall 
detest  the  people  so  much  that  I  shall  be  unable  to 
hide  my  hatred.'  'What  harm  are  they  doing  you, 
then?'  'Making  me  feel  injustice,  and  constantly 
behold  absurdity.' " 

How  this  impression  is  emphasized  in  the  really 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  ROLAND.   79 

prophetic  letter  written  by  the  future  heroine  of  the 
Revolution  to  her  friend,  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Cannet, 
October  4, 1774 :  "  To  return  to  Versailles.  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  greatly  all  I  have  examined  has  made  me 
value  my  own  situation,  and  thank  Heaven  that  I  was 
born  in  an  obscure  condition.  You  think,  perhaps, 
that  this  sentiment  is  based  on  the  slight  esteem  I 
attach  to  the  worth  of  opinion,  and  my  sense  of  the 
reality  of  the  penalties  attached  to  greatness.  Not 
at  all.  It  is  based  on  the  knowledge  I  have  of  my 
own  character,  which  would  be  very  detrimental  both 
to  me  and  to  the  State  if  I  were  placed  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  throne ;  because  I  would  be  keenly 
shocked  by  the  extreme  inequality  which  sets  so  many 
thousands  of  men  below  a  single  individual  of  the 
same  species !  "  What  a  prediction !  The  most  un- 
foreseen events  were  one  day  to  bring  this  young 
plebeian  near  that  royalty  formerly  so  far  above  her. 
The  engraver's  daughter  will  be  the  wife  of  a  minis- 
ter of  State.  And  then  what  will  happen  ?  Accord- 
ing to  her  own  expression,  her  r61e  will  be  very 
detrimental  to  herself  and  to  the  State. 

In  the  same  letter  she  had  written :  "  A  beneficent 
king  seems  to  me  an  almost  adorable  being;  but  if, 
before  coming  into  the  world,  the  choice  of  a  govern- 
ment had  been  given  me,  my  character  would  have 
made  me  decide  for  a  republic."  She  will  end  by 
hating  the  beneficent  King,  and  probably  no  one 
will  contribute  more  than  she  towards  establishing 
the  republican  regime  in  France. 


80  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Supposing  that,  instead  of  being  merely  an  insig- 
nificant commoner,  Madame  Roland  liad  been  born 
in  the  ranks  of  aristocracy,  had  enjoyed  tlie  right  of 
sitting  down  in  the  presence  of  Their  Majesties  at 
Versailles,  and  had  shone  at  the  familiar  entertain- 
ments of  the  Trianon,  she  would  doubtless  have 
shared  the  sentiments  and  ideas  of  the  women  of  the 
old  regime,  and,  like  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  or  the 
Duchess  de  Polignac,  have  shed  tears  of  compassion 
over  the  Queen's  misfortunes.  Fate,  in  placing  her 
in  a  subordinate  position,  made  her  an  enemy  and  a 
rebel.  She  anathematized  the  society  in  which  her 
rank  bore  no  relation  to  her  lofty  intelligence  and 
her  need  of  domination.  When,  from  the  upper  win- 
dow of  her  father's  house  on  the  Quai  des  Orfevres, 
beside  the  Pont-Neuf,  she  saw  the  brilliant  retinue 
of  Marie  Antoinette  pass  by  on  their  way  to  Notre 
Dame  to  return  thanks  to  God  for  some  happy  event, 
she  grew  angry  at  all  this  pomp  and  glitter,  so  much 
in  contrast  with  her  own  obscure  condition.  What 
crimes  have  been  engendered  by  the  sentiment  of 
envy !  The  furies  of  the  guillotine  wers  above  all 
things  envious.  They  were  delighted  to  see  in  the 
fatal  cart  the  woman  whom  they  had  formerly  beheld 
in  gala  carriages  resplendent  with  gold.  Madame 
Roland  certainly  ought  not  to  have  carried  hex  hatred 
to  such  a  pitch ;  but  had  she  not  demanded  in  1789, 
when  speaking  of  Louis  XVI.  and  the  Queen,  that 
"  two  illustrious  heads  "  should  be  brought  to  trial  ? 
Who  knows?      If,  in  1784,  she   had  obtained  the 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  ROLAND.   81 

patent  of  nobility  for  her  husband  which  at  that 
period  she  solicited  so  ardently,  she  might  have  be- 
come sincerely  royalist!  But  having  remained, 
despite  herself,  in  the  citizen  class,  she  retained  and 
personified,  to  her  latest  hour,  its  rancor,  pettiness, 
and  wrath.  What  figure  could  she  have  made  at 
Versailles,  or  even  at  the  Tuileries?  In  the  midst 
of  great  lords  and  noble  ladies  the  haughty  commoner 
would  have  been  out  of  place ;  she  would  have  stifled. 
It  was  chiefly  on  that  account  that  she  attached  her- 
self to  the  new  ideas.  She  told  herself  that  so  long 
as  royalty  lasted,  she  would  always  be  of  small  im- 
portance ;  while,  if  the  republic  were  established,  she 
might  aspire  to  anything.  Though  her  husband  was 
one  of  the  King's  ministers,  she  became  daily  more 
adverse  to  the  monarchy,  and  Roland,  following  her 
counsels,  was  like  a  pilot  whose  whole  intent  is  to 
make  the  vessel  founder,  even  though  he  were  to 
perish  with  its  crew. 

It  is  a  sad  thing  to  say,  but  even  their  community 
in  suffering  did  not  disarm  Madame  Roland's  hate 
for  Marie  Antoinette.  It  was  in  prison,  on  the  eve 
of  ascending  the  scaffold  herself,  that  she  wrote  con- 
cerning Louis  XVI.  and  the  Queen :  "  He  was  led 
away  by  a  giddy  creature  who  united  the  presump- 
tion of  youth  and  grandeur  to  Austrian  insolence, 
the  intoxication  of  the  senses,  and  the  heedlessness  of 
levity,  and  was  herself  seduced  by  all  the  vices  of  an 
Asiatic  court,  for  which  she  had  been  too  well  pre- 
pared by  the  example  of  her  mother."      Ah !  why 


82  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 


were  not  these  cruel  lines  effaced  by  the  tears  Madame 
Roland  shed  in  floods  over  the  pages  she  was  writing, 
and  of  which  the  traces  still  remain  on  the  manu- 
script of  her  Memoirs  ?  Why  did  she  not  sympathize 
in  the  grief  of  Marie  Antoinette,  separated  from  her 
children,  when  in  speaking  of  her  daughter  Eudora, 
she  wrote  :  "  Good  God !  I  am  a  prisoner,  and  she 
is  living  far  from  me  !  I  dare  not  even  send  for  her 
to  receive  my  embraces;  hatred  pursues  even  the 
children  of  those  whom  tyranny  persecutes,  and  mine, 
with  her  eleven  years,  her  virginal  figure,  and  her 
beautiful  fair  hair,  could  hardly  appear  in  the  streets 
without  creatures  suborned  or  deluded  by  falsehood 
pointing  her  out  as  the  offspring  of  a  conspirator. 
Cruel  wretches !  how  well  they  know  how  to  tear  a 
mother's  heart ! " 

Why  were  these  two  women  political  adversa- 
ries? Both  sensitive,  both  artistic,  with  inexhausti- 
ble sources  of  poetry  and  tenderness  at  heart,  they 
were  born  for  gentle  emotions  and  not  for  horrible 
catastrophes.  Who,  at  their  dawning,  could  have 
predicted  for  them  such  an  appalling  night?  Like 
Marie  Antoinette,  Madame  Roland  loved  nature  and 
the  arts.  She  felt  the  profound  and  penetrating 
charm  of  the  fields.  She  drew,  she  played  on  the 
harp,  guitar,  and  violin,  and  she  sang.  "  No  one 
knows,"  she  wrote  a  few  moments  before  her  death, 
"what  an  alleviation  music  is  in  solitude  and  an- 
guish, nor  from  how  many  temptations  it  can  save 
one  in  prosperity."    She  had  sung  the  same  romances 


MABIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  MADAME  ROLAND.    83 

as  the  Queen.  The  same  poets  had  inspired  and 
affected  each. 

Does  not  this  most  feminine  passage  in  Madame 
Roland's  Memoirs  recall  the  character  of  the  mistress 
of  the  Little  Trianon?  "I  always  remember  the 
singular  effect  produced  on  me  by  a  bunch  of  violets 
at  Christmas ;  when  I  received  them  I  was  in  that 
condition  of  soul  often  induced  by  a  season  favorable 
to  serious  thought.  My  imagination  slumbered,  I 
reflected  coldly,  and  I  hardly  felt  at  all ;  suddenly 
the  color  of  these  violets  and  their  delicate  perfume 
struck  my  senses ;  it  was  an  awakening  to  life.  .  .  . 
A  rosy  tinge  suffused  the  horizon  of  the  day."  Would 
not  this  cry  of  Madame  Roland  in  her  captivity  suit 
Marie  Antoinette  as  well?  "Ah!  when  shall  I 
breathe  pure  air  and  those  soft  exhalations  so  agree- 
able to  my  heart?  "  And  might  not  the  daughter  of 
the  great  Maria  Theresa  have  cried,  like  the  daughter 
of  Philipon  the  engraver  ?  "  Adieu !  my  child,  my 
husband,  my  friends.  Adieu !  sun  whose  brilliant 
rays  brought  serenity  to  my  soul,  as  if  they  were 
recalling  it  to  the  skies.  Adieu  !  ye  solitary  fields 
which  have  so  often  moved  me." 

What  must  not  these  two  keenly  sensitive  women 
have  had  to  suffer  at  the  epoch  when  France  became 
a  hell?  They  have  each  believed  in  the  amelioration 
of  the  human  species  and  the  return  of  the  golden 
age  to  earth,  and  what  will  their  awakening  be,  after 
such  alluring  dreams?  Men  will  be  as  unjust,  as 
wicked,  as  cruel  to  the  republican  as  to  the  queen. 


84  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

She,  too,  will  be  drenched  with  calumnies  and  out- 
rages. They  will  insult  her  also  in  the  most  cowardly 
and  ferocious  manner.  Under  the  very  windows  of 
her  dungeon  she  will  hear  the  hawkers  crying : 
"  Great  visit  of  P^re  Duchesne  to  Citizeness  Roland, 
in  the  Abbey  prison,  for  the  purpose  of  pumping  her." 
The  ignoble  journalist  will  call  her  "  old  sack  of  the 
counter-revolution."  He  will  say  to  her  with  his 
habitual  oaths :  "  Weep  for  your  crimes,  old  fright, 
before  you  expiate  them  on  the  scaffold !  "  The  wife 
of  Louis  XVI.  and  the  wife  of  Roland  will  die  within 
twenty-three  days  of  each  other :  one  on  October  16, 
the  other  on  November  8,  1793.  They  will  start 
from  the  same  prison  of  the  Conciergerie,  to  be  led 
to  the  same  Place  Louis  XV.,  to  have  their  heads 
cut  off  by  the  blade  of  the  same  guillotine.  The  com- 
moner who  had  been  so  jealous  of  the  Queen,  can  no 
longer  complain.  If  the  lives  of  the  two  women  have 
been  different,  they  will  at  least  have  the  same 
death ;  and  the  doer  of  the  noble  deeds  of  the  regime 
of  equality,  the  headsman,  will  make  no  distinction 
between  the  two  victims,  between  the  veritable  sov- 
ereign, the  Queen  of  France  and  Navarre,  and  the 
sovereign  of  a  day,  whom  Pdre  Duchesne,  as  insolent 
to  one  as  to  the  other,  will  no  longer  speak  of  except 
under  the  sobriquet  of  Queen  Coqo. 


YIII. 

MADAME  ROLAND  AT  THE  MINISTflY   OF  THE 
INTERIOR. 

EOLAND  took  the  portfolio  of  the  Interior, 
March  24,  1792,  and  installed  himself  and  his 
wife  in  the  ministerial  residence,  then  occupying  the 
site  afterwards  built  on  by  the  ThSdtre  Italien.  This 
very  beautiful  and  luxurious  mansion  had  formerly 
been  the  controller's  office,  and  both  Calonne  and 
Necker  had  lived  in  it.  Madame  Roland  found  no 
small  pleasure  in  queening  it  under  the  gilded  cano- 
pies of  the  old  regime.  It  was  not  at  all  disagreeable 
to  her  to  give  dinners  in  the  sumptuous  banqueting 
hall  erected  by  the  elegant  Calonne,  nor  did  the 
austere  admirer  of  the  ancients  set  the  black  broth  of 
Sparta  before  her  guests. 

Once  arrived  at  power,  was  this  great  enemy  of 
nobility  and  prescription  simple,  and  easy  of  ap- 
proach? Not  in  the  least.  There  is  often  more 
arrogance  displayed  by  parvenus  of  both  sexes  than 
by  those  who  are  aristocrats  by  birth.  .  Madame 
Roland  was  extremely  proud  of  her  new  dignity,  and 
at  once  resolved,  as  she  tells  us  in  her  Memoirs, 
neither  to  make  nor  receive  visits.     Her  attitude  and 

85 


86  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 


manners  wliile  at  the  ministry  were  those  of  an 
Asiatic  sovereign.  She  secluded  herself,  permitting 
only  a  small  number  of  privileged  courtiers  to  enter 
her  presence.  Under  the  old  regime,  the  wives  of 
ministers  and  ambassadors,  dukes  and  peers,  had 
never  felicitated  themselves  on  "  cultivating  their  pri- 
vate tastes  "  to  the  detriment  of  the  proprieties  and 
obligations  of  good  breeding.  But  the  Revolution 
had  changed  all  that.  French  politeness  was  now 
mere  old-fashioned  rubbish.  At  the  Ministry  of  the 
Interior,  the  etiquette  whose  "  severity  "  is  vaunted 
by  Madame  Roland  was  more  rigorous  than  that  of 
the  court  of  Versailles,  and  ft  was  easier  to  see  the 
wife  of  the  King  than  the  wife  of  the  minister.  With 
what  hauteur  the  latter  expresses  herself  concerning 
"  the  self-seeking  crowds  who  throng  about  those 
who  hold  great  places  "  !  Assuredly,  the  Queen  had 
never  spoken  of  her  subjects  in  this  tone  of  disdainful 
patronage. 

Madame  Roland,  who  "  was  tired  of  fools,"  incom- 
moded herself  for  nobody.  The  agreeable  side  of 
power  was  all  she  wanted.  Suppressing  the  recep- 
tions which  annoyed  her,  she  gave  none  but  men's 
dinners,  where  she  perorated  and  paraded,  and 
where,  being  the  only  woman  present,  she  had  no 
rivals  to  fear.  Self-sufficiency  9.nd  insufficiency  are, 
for  the  most  part,  what  fall  to  the  share  of  parvenus. 
"What  would  have  been  said  in  the  old  days  of  a 
noble  dame  who  did  the  honors  of  a  ministry  so 
strangely,  who  never  invited  another  woman  to  din- 


MADAME   ROLAND 


AT  THE  MINISTRY  OF  THE  INTERIOR.         87 

ner,  and  admitted  no  one  to  her  presence  but  a  little 
clique  of  flatterers  ?  Everybody  would  have  accused 
such  a  lady  as  lacking  in  good  breeding.  But  to 
Madame  Roland  all  that  she  did  was  right  in  her 
own  eyes.  How  could  a  woman  so  superior  be  ex- 
pected to  submit  to  the  tyranny  of  polite  usages? 
Was  not  the  first  of  all  despotisms  the  very  one  to 
be  shaken  off?  and  ought  not  a  person  so  proud  of 
the  originality  of  her  genius  feel  bound  before  all 
things,  as  she  said  herself,  "to  preserve  her  own 
mode  of  being  "  ?  Madame  Roland  did  at  the  minis- 
try just  what  she  did  from  her  cradle  to  her  grave : 
she  posed. 

"  To  listen  to  Madame  Roland,"  said  Count  Beu- 
gnot  in  his  witty  and  curious  Memoirs,  "  you  would 
have  thought  she  had  imbibed  the  passion  for  liberty 
from  reading  the  great  writers  of  antiquity.  .  .  . 
Cato  the  Elder  was  her  hero,  and  it  was  probably 
out  of  respect  for  this  hero  that  she  showed  a  lack 
of  courtesy  towards  her  husband.  She  was  unwill- 
ing to  see  that  there  was  as  much  difference  between 
Roland's  wife  and  the  Roman  minister  as  there  was 
between  the  Brutus  of  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal 
and  him  of  the  Capitol.  Self-love  was  the  means  by 
which  this  woman  had  been  elevated  to  the  point 
where  we  have  seen  her;  she  was  incessantly  actuated 
by  it,  and  does  not  dissimulate  the  fact."  It  was 
she,  and  not  her  husband,  wlio  was  Minister  of  the 
Interior.  If  the  aristocrats  treated  Roland  as  a  min- 
ister sans-culottes,  it  might  have  been  added  that  the 


88  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTT. 

breeches  which  he  lacked  were  worn  by  his  spouse. 
Out  of  all  the  rooms  composing  a  vast  apartment, 
she  had  chosen  for  her  own  daily  use  the  smallest 
that  could  be  converted  into  a  study,  and  kept  her 
books  and  writing-table  in  it.  It  was  from  this  bou- 
doir, half  literary,  half  political,  that  she  conducted 
the  ministry  according  to  her  own  whims.  "  It  often 
happened,"  says  she,  "that  friends  or  colleagues 
desiring  to  speak  confidentially  with  the  minister, 
instead  of  going  to  his  own  room,  where  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  his  clerks  and  the  public,  came  to  mine 
and  begged  me  to  have  him  called  thither.  Thus  I 
found  myself  in  the  stream  of  affairs  without  either 
intrigue  or  idle  curiosity.  Roland  took  pleasure  in 
talking  these  subjects  over  with  me  afterwards  with 
that  confidence  which  has  always  reigned  between 
us,  and  which  has  brought  our  knowledge  and  our 
opinions  into  community." 

On  this  head,  M.  Dauban  makes  the  very  just  re- 
mark :  "  A  community  in  which  there  is  no  equi- 
librium of  forces,  becomes  a  sort  of  omnipotence  for 
the  strongest."  The  omnipotence  in  this  case  was 
not  on  the  side  of  the  beard,  but  of  Madame  Roland. 
The  wife  wrote,  thought,  and  acted  for  her  husband. 
It  was  she  who  drew  up  his  circulars  and  reports  to 
the  National  Assembly.  "My  husband,"  she  tells 
us,  "had  nothing  to  lose  in  passing  through  my 
hands.  Roland,  without  me,  would  have  been  none 
the  less  a  good  administrator ;  with  me,  he  has  made 
more  sensation,  because  I  imparted  to  my  \rritings 


AT  THE  MINISTRY  OF  THE  INTEBIOB.  89 

that  mixture  of  force  and  sweetness,  that  authority 
of  reason  and  charm  of  sentiment,  which  perhaps 
belongs  only  to  a  sensitive  woman,  endowed  with 
sound  understanding."  And  the  "  virtuous  "  Roland 
took  pride  in  the  magnificent  phrases  which  he  naively 
believed  to  be  the  expression  of  his  own  genius,  when 
his  wife  had  saved  him  not  merely  the  trouble  of 
writing,  but  even  of  thinking.  "  He  often  ended," 
she  says,  "  by  persuading  himself  that  he  had  really 
been  in  a  good  vein  when  he  had  written  such  or 
such  a  passage  which  proceeded  from  my  pen." 

Madame  Roland  had  at  her  orders  a  man  of  letters, 
salaried  by  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  who  was  the 
official  defender  of  the  minister  and  his  policy.  "  It 
had  been  felt,"  she  tells  us,  "  that  it  was  needful  to 
counteract  the  influence  of  the  court,  the  aristocracy, 
the  civil  list  and  their  journals,  by  popular  instruc- 
tions to  which  great  publicity  should  be  given.  A 
journal  posted  up  in  public  places  seemed  to  be  the 
proper  thing,  and  a  wise  and  enlightened  man  had  to 
be  found  for  its  editor."  This  wise  and  enlightened 
man  was  Louvet,  the  author  of  the  Amours  de  Favr 
hlas.  He  was  the  writer  whom  Madame  Roland  es- 
teemed most  capable  of  instructing  and  of  moralizing 
the  masses.  "  Men  of  letters  and  persons  of  taste," 
she  says,  "know  his  charming  romances,  in  which 
the  graces  of  imagination  are  allied  to  lightness  of 
style,  a  philosophical  tone,  and  the  salt  of  criticism. 
He  has  proved  that  his  skilful  hand  could  alternately 
shake  the  bells  of  folly,  hold  the  burin  of  history,  and 


90  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

launch  the  thunderbolts  of  eloquence.  Courageous 
as  a  lion,  simple  as  a  child,  a  sensible  man,  a  good 
citizen,  a  vigorous  writer,  he  could  make  Catiline 
tremble  from  the  tribune,  dine  with  the  Graces,  and 
sup  with  Bachaumont." 

Madame  Roland  admired  the  author  of  Fauhlas^ 
now  become  the  editor-in-chief  of  the  Sentinelle  ;  but 
among  her  intimates  there  was  a  man  whom  she 
admired  much  more.  This  was  Buzot.  With  what 
complacency  she  draws  in  her  Memoirs  the  portrait 
of  this  man  "of  an  elevated  character,  a  haughty- 
spirit,  and  a  vehement  courage,  sensitive,  ardent, 
melancholy;  an  impassioned  lover  of  nature,  nour- 
ishing his  imagination  with  all  the  charms  she  has 
to  offer,  and  his  soul  with  the  principles  of  the  most 
touching  philosophy ;  he  seems  formed  to  enjoy  and 
to  procure  domestic  happiness;  he  could  forget  the 
universe  in  the  sweetness  of  private  virtues  practised 
with  a  heart  worthy  of  his  own."  Needless  to  say 
that  in  Madame  Roland's  thought,  this  heart  worthy 
of  the  heart  of  Buzot  was  her  own.  "He  is  sus- 
ceptible," says  she,  "of  the  tenderest  affections" 
(always  for  Madame  Roland),  "capable  of  sublime 
flights  and  the  most  generous  resolutions."  Into 
what  ecstasies  she  falls  over  the  noble  face  and 
elegant  figure  of  this  handsome  .man,  in  whose  cos- 
tume "reigns  that  care,  cleanliness,  and  decency 
which  manifest  the  spirit  of  order,  taste,  the  senti- 
ment of  decorum,  and  the  respect  of  an  honest  man 
for  the  public  and  himself  " !    How  she  contrasts  with 


AT  THE  MINISTRY  OF  THE  INTERIOR.         91 

men  wlio  think  patriotism  consists  in  "swearing, 
drinking,  and  dressing  like  porters,  in  order  to  fra- 
ternize with  their  equals,"  this  attractive,  this  ir- 
resistible Buzot,  who  "  professes  the  morality  of 
Socrates  and  the  politeness  of  Scipio  "  ! 

Clearly,  the  veritable  idol  of  the  Egeria  of  the 
Girondins  is  not  the  republic,  but  Buzot.  He  is 
so  elegant,  so  distinguished !  His  mind  and  his 
person  have  so  many  charms !  Poor  Roland !  You 
think  that  your  better  half  is  solely  occupied  with 
your  ministry.  Alas !  this  learned  woman  has  other 
thoughts  in  her  head.  Your  position  as  a  minister 
has  not  augmented  your  prestige  in  the  region  of 
sentiment.  Though  you  lord  it  in  the  Hotel 
Calonne,  yet,  in  spite  of  the  throng  of  petitioners 
and  flatterers  who  surround  you,  you  will  never  be 
a  Lovelace,  and  your  romantic  spouse  will  not  allow 
herself  to  be  affected  by  your  appearance,  like  that 
of  a  Quaker  in  Sunday  clothes.  You  thought  you 
were  doing  wonders  in  presenting  yourself  at  the 
council  of  ministers  with  lanky,  unpowdered  locks, 
a  round  hat,  and  shoes  minus  buckles.  This  peasant 
costume,  which  so  greatly  scandalized  the  master  of 
ceremonies,  doubtless  made  the  best  impression  at 
the  Jacobin  Club,  but  your  wife  prefers  the  careful 
dress  of  her  too  dear  Buzot. 

Madame  Roland,  who  had  just  completed  her 
thirty-eighth  year,  was  still  very  charming.  L^- 
montey  thus  paints  her  portrait  as  she  appeared  at 
this  epoch:    "Her  eyes  and  hair  were  remarkably 


92  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

beautiful;  her  delicate  complexion  had  a  freshness 
and  color  which  made  her  look  singularly  young. 
At  the  beginning  of  her  husband's  ministry  she  had 
lost  nothing  of  her  air  of  youth  and  simplicity ;  her 
husband  resembled  a  Quaker  whose  daughter  she 
might  have  been,  and  her  child  hovered  round  her 
with  hair  floating  to  her  waist;  one  might  have 
thought  them  natives  of  Pennsylvania  transported 
to  the  drawing-room  of  M.  de  Calonne." 

Count  Beugnot,  who  was  the  companion  of  her 
captivity  in  the  Conciergerie,  is  severe  on  the  female 
politician,  but  he  admires  the  pretty  woman.  "  Her 
figure  was  graceful,"  he  says,  "and  her  hands  per- 
fectly modelled.  Her  glance  was  expressive,  and 
even  in  repose  her  face  had  something  noble  and 
subtly  attractive  in  it.  One  surmised  her  wit  with- 
out needing  to  hear  her  speak,  but  no  woman  whom 
I  have  ever  listened  to,  spoke  with  more  purity  and 
elegance.  She  must  have  owed  her  faculty  of  giving 
to  French  a  rhythm  and  cadence  veritably  new,  to 
her  familiar  knowledge  of  Italian.  The  harmony  of 
her  voice  was  still  further  heightened  by  graceful 
and  appropriate  gestures  and  the  expression  of  her 
eyes,  which  grew  animated  in  conversation.  I  daily 
experienced  new  charm  in  listening  to  her,  less  on 
account  of  what  she  said  than  because  of  the  magic 
of  her  delivery." 

If  Madame  Roland,  a  prisoner,  crushed  by  mis- 
fortune, on  the  very  threshold  of  the  scaffold,  after 
so  many  sleepless  nights  and  so  many  tears,  had  pre- 


AT   THE  MINISTBY  OF  THE  INTERIOIt.  93 

served  such  attractions,  what  a  charm  must  she  not 
have  exercised  at  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  when 
'  hope  and  pride  illumined  her  beautiful  face,  and 
when,  after  appearing  to  her  electrified  adorers  as  the 
Muse  of  the  new  regime,  the  magician,  the  Circe  of 
the  Revolution,  she  touched  so  profoundly  their 
minds  and  hearts!  She  who  knew  so  well  how  to 
love  and  how  to  hate,  who  felt  so  keenly,  who  had  so 
much  energy,  so  much  vigor,  what  fascination  must 
she  not  have  exerted  with  her  glance  of  fire,  her  long 
black  tresses,  her  more  than  ornate  eloquence,  her 
inspired,  lyric,  enthusiastic  bearing,  and  that  con- 
summate art  which,  according  to  the  remark  of 
Fontanes,  made  one  believe  that  in  her  everything 
was  the  work  of  nature ! 


IX. 

DUMOUKIEZ,  MINISTER   OF   FOREIGN  AFFAIRS. 

MADAME  ROLAND  had  wished  to  reign  alone. 
She  saw  an  influential  rival  in  Dumouriez, 
and  at  once  conceived  for  him  an  instinctive  repug- 
nance and  suspicion.  She  met  him  first  on  March 
23,  1792,  at  the  time  when,  as  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  he  came  to  salute  Roland,  just  named  Minis- 
ter of  the  Interior,  as  his  colleague.  As  soon  as  he 
departed:  "There,"  said  she  to  her  husband,  "is  a 
man  with  a  crafty  mind  and  a  false  glance,  against 
whom  it  is  probably  more  necessary  to  be  on  one's 
guard  than  any  other  person;  he  expressed  great 
satisfaction  at  the  patriotic  choice  he  was  deputed  to 
announce ;  but  I  should  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  he 
were  to  have  you  dismissed  some  day."  She  thought 
she  recognized  in  Dumouriez  at  first  sight,  "  a  witty 
rou6,  an  insolent  chevalier  who  makes  sport  of  every- 
thing except  his  own  interests  and  glory." 

Later  on  she  drew  the  following  portrait  of  him : 
"  Among  all  his  colleagues,  he  had  most  of  what  is 
called  wit,  and  less  than  any  of  morality.  Diligent 
and  brave,  a  good  general,  a  skilful  courtier,  writing 
well  and  expressing  himself  with  ease,  capable  of 
94 


DUMOUEIEZ,  MINISTER  OF  FOREIGN  AFFAIRS.  95 

great  enterprises,  all  he  lacked  was  character  enough 
to  balance  his  mind,  or  a  cooler  brain  to  carry  out 
the  plans  he  had  conceived.  Agreeable  to  his 
friends,  and  ready  to  betray  them,  gallant  to  women, 
but  not  at  all  suited  to  succeed  with  those  among 
them  who  are  susceptible  to  affectionate  relations,  he 
was  made  for  the  ministerial  intrigues  of  a  corrupt 
court." 

The  nomination  of  Dumouriez  as  Minister  of  For- 
eign Affairs  is  one  of  the  most  curious  and  unforeseen 
events  of  this  strange  epoch.  Few  men  have  had  a 
career  so  adventurous  and  agitated  as  his.  A  com- 
plex and  mobile  nature,  where  the  intriguer  and  the 
great  man  were  blended  into  one,  he  never  com- 
manded esteem,  but  at  certain  moments  he  secured 
admiration.  Napoleon  I.  seems  to  have  been  too 
severe  when  he  said  of  him  that  he  was  "  only  a  mis- 
erable intriguer."  The  man  who  opened  the  series 
of  great  French  victories,  and  who  saved  his  country 
from  invasion  by  his  admirable  defence  of  the  defiles  of 
Argonne,  merited  more  than  this  disdainful  mention. 
It  is  none  the  less  certain,  however,  that  one  scents, 
as  it  were,  an  air  of  Beaumarchais  in  the  Memoirs  of 
Dumouriez,  and  that  there  is  more  than  one  link  of 
character  and  existence  between  the  author  of  the 
Mariage  de  Figaro  and  the  victor  of  Jemmapes. 
Both  were  men  without  principles,  but  full  of  resource, 
wit,  and  fascination.  Both  were  lovable  in  spite  of 
their  great  defects,  because  of  their  humanity  aiid 
kindness.     Both  belonged  at  the  same  time  to  the 


96  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  HOYALTT. 

old  regime  and  the  Revolution.  Before  arriving  at 
celebrity,  each  had  a  stormy  youth,  tormented  by  the 
love  of  pleasure,  the  need  of  money,  and  a  sort  of 
perpetual  restlessness :  they  flattered  every  power  of 
the  time,  sought  fortune  by  the  most  circuitous  ways, 
were  diplomatic  couriers,  and  secret  agents;  before 
coming  out  into  open  daylight,  they  made  trial  of 
their  marvellous  address  in  obscurity,  and  signalized 
themselves  among  those  men  of  action  and  initiative 
whom  governments,  which  make  use  of  them  in 
occult  ways,  first  launch,  then  compromise,  disavow, 
and  sometimes  imprison. 

Born  at  Cambrai,  January  25,  1739,  Dumouriez 
belonged  to  a  family  of  the  upper  middle  class. 
Entering  the  army  early,  he  distinguished  himself 
by  his  high  spirits  and  courage.  As  a  cornet  of  the 
Penthi^vre  cavalry,  he  served  in  the  German  cam- 
paigns from  1758  to  1761,  and  was  invalided  in  1763. 
He  spent  twenty-four  years  at  the  wars  and  brought 
back  nothing  but  twenty-two  wounds,  the  rank  of 
captain,  a  decoration,  and  some  debts.  Seeking  then 
a  new  career,  he  entered,  thanks  to  his  connection 
with  Favier,  the  secret  diplomacy  of  Louis  XV., 
and  was  sent  to  Corsica,  Italy,  and  Portugal.  He 
returned  to  the  army  in  1768,  and  made  a  brilliant 
record  in  the  Corsican  campaign,  obtaining  success- 
ively the  grades  of  adjutant-major  general,  adjutant- 
quartermaster,  and  colonel  of  cavalry.  It  was  he 
who  seized  the  castle  of  Corte,  Paoli's  last  asylum. 
In  1771,  he  again  became  a  secret  agent.     Louis  XV. 


BUMOURIEZ,  MINISTER  OF  FOBEIGN  AFFAIRS.  97 


wished  to  befriend  Poland  in  its  death-struggle,  but 
without  betraying  his  hand.  Dumouriez  was  sent 
to  the  Polish  confederates.  He  was  reputed  to  be 
merely  acting  on  his  own  impulses.  He  organized 
troops  and  fought  successfully  against  Souvaroff,  the 
future  adversary  of  the  French  Republic,  but  could 
not  save  Poland  —  that  Asiatic  nation  of  Europe,  as 
he  called  it.  He  came  back  to  Paris  in  1772,  and  the 
government,  complying  with  the  demands  of  Russia, 
shut  him  up  for  a  year  in  the  Bastille,  where  he  had 
leisure  to  meditate  on  the  ingratitude  of  courts. 
This  captivity  strengthened  his  taste  for  study,  and, 
far  from  allaying  his  ambition,  gave  it  renewed  force. 

Louis  XVI.  put  him  in  command  at  Cherbourg, 
and  it  was  he  who  conceived  the  plan  of  making 
that  town  a  station  for  the  French  marine.  He  was 
fifty  years  old  when  the  Revolution  of  1789  broke 
out.  At  once  he  saw  in  it  an  opportunity  for  success 
and  glory.  Full  of  confidence  in  his  own  superiority, 
he  merely  awaited  the  hour  when  events  should 
second  his  ambition.  He  said  to  himself  that  the 
emigration,  by  making  a  void  in  the  upper  ranks  of 
the  army,  was  going  to  leave  him  free  scope,  and  that 
he  would  be  commander-in-chief  of  the  French  troops 
under  the  new  r(3gime.  To  attain  this  end  he  de- 
cided to  serve  the  King,  the  Assembly,  and  the  fac- 
tions ;  to  assume  all  parts  and  all  masks,  and  to  be  in 
turn,  and  simultaneously  if  need  were,  the  courtier 
of  Louis  XVI.  and  the  favorite  of  the  Jacobins. 

As  has  been  very  well  said  by  M.  Fr^d^ric  Masson 


98  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

in  an  excellent  book,  as  novel  as  it  is  interesting, 
Le  DSpartement  des  affaires  Strang^res  sous  la  Revolu- 
tion^ Dumouriez  had  been  accustomed  to  make  his 
way  everywhere,  to  eat  at  all  tables,  and  listen  at  all 
doors.  One  of  the  agents  of  Count  d'Artois  brought 
him  into  relations  with  Mirabeau.  He  was  protected 
by  the  minister  Montmorin.  He  drew  up  plans  of 
campaign  for  Narbonne.  He  used  the  intimate  "  thou  " 
to  Laporte,  the  King's  confidant  and  intendant  of  the 
civil  list.  He  made  use  of  women  also.  Separated 
from  his  lawful  wife,  he  lived  in  marital  relations 
with  a  sister  of  Rivarol,  the  Baroness  de  Beauvert,  a 
charming  person  who  had  much  intercourse  with 
aristocratic  society,  who  speculated  in  arms,  and  who 
was  pensioned  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  as  appears 
from  a  letter  of  Latouche  de  Trdville,  the  prince's 
chancellor,  dated  April  17,  1789.  Dumouriez,  who 
had  expensive  tastes,  sought  at  the  same  time  for 
gold  and  honors.  Either  by  means  of  the  court  or 
the  Revolution,  he  desired  to  gain  a  great  fortune  and 
much  glory,  to  become  a  statesman,  a  minister,  com- 
mander-in-chief, and  realize  his  great  military  plan, 
the  conquest  of  the  natural  frontiers  of  France.  He 
said  to  himself:  He  who  wills  the  end  wills  the 
means,  and  managed  as  adroitly  with  parties  as  with 
soldiers.  At  Niort,  where  he  was  in  command  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Revolution,  he  made  himself  remark- 
able by  his  enthusiasm  for  the  new  ideas,  and  became 
president  of  the  club  and  honorary  citizen  of  the 
town.     He  contracted  an  intimacy  with  Gensonnd, 


DUMOURIEZ,  MINISTER  OF  FOREIGN  AFFAIRS.  99 

whom  the  Assembly  had  sent  into  the  departments 
of  the  west  to  observe  their  spirit.  In  January,  1792, 
the  emigration  of  general  officers  had  become  so  con- 
siderable that  he  rose  by  seniority  to  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-general.  Thereafter,  he  believed  his  hour 
had  come,  and  threw  himself  boldly  into  the  political 
arena.  The  Gironde  and  the  Jacobins  were  the  two 
powers  then  in  vogue  ;  he  flattered  both  the  Jacobins 
and  the  Gironde.  Brissot  was  the  corypheus  of  the 
diplomatic  committee  and  the  chief  of  the  war  party. 
He  became  the  familiar  of  Brissot.  Already,  in  1791, 
he  had  prepared  a  memoir  on  the  subject  of  the  Min- 
istry of  Foreign  Affairs  which  he  dedicated  and  read 
to  the  Jacobins.  In  it  he  announced  (singular  pre- 
diction for  the  future  minister  of  a  king !)  that  before 
.fifty  years  had  passed,  Europe  would  be  republican. 
He  demanded  an  immediate  and  radical  change  in 
the  diplomatic  personnel.  "  It  is  of  small  importance," 
said  he  in  the  same  memoir,  "  that  our  representa- 
tives would  lack  experience.  In  the  first  place,  our 
interests  are  greatly  simplified ;  moreover,  our  former 
representatives  were  young  men  belonging  to  the 
court  who  had  had  no  political  education.  In  a 
word,  it  is  the  majesty  of  the  nation  which  gives 
our  negotiations  weight.  The  minister,"  he  added, 
"  should  be  a  man  of  approved  patriotism,  above  all 
suspicion,  like  the  wife  of  Caesar.  Absolute  integ- 
rity, great  knowledge  of  men,  great  firmness,  a  broad 
and  upright  mind,  should  complete  his  character." 
Dumouriez  perhaps  imagined  that  all  these  qualities 


100  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

of  an  ideal  minister  were  reunited  in  his  person. 
However  that  may  be,  he  accepted,  without  any  mis- 
trust of  his  own  abilities,  the  portfolio  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  confided  to  him  March  15,  1792,  on  account 
of  his  relations  with  the  Gironde  and  his  popularity 
with  the  Jacobins.  He  had  a  high  opinion  of  him- 
self, and,  even  after  his  cruel  disappointments,  he 
was  to  write  in  his  Memoirs,  in  1794 :  "  Dumouriez 
sometimes  laughs  sardonically  in  his  retreat  over  the 
judgments  passed  upon  him.  When  he  arrived  at 
the  ministry,  the  courtiers  said  and  published  that 
he  was  only  a  soldier  of  fortune,  incapable  of  con- 
ducting political  affairs,  in  which  he  would  make 
nothing  but  blunders.  When  he  commanded  an 
army,  they  told  the  Prussians  and  the  German  Em- 
peror's troops  that  he  was  a  mere  writer,  who  had 
never  made  war  and  understood  nothing  about  it. 
Since  he  retired  with  reputation  from  public  employ- 
ments, they  have  published  that  up  to  the  date  of  the 
Revolution  he  had  been  an  intriguing  adventurer, 
a  ministerial  spy,  an  office-sweeper.  Would  to  God, 
they  had  employed  the  adventures  of  their  youth 
in  similar  espionages  !  They  would  not  have  begun 
the  Revolution  like  factionists,  they  would  have  con- 
ducted it  with  wisdom,  they  would  have  preserved 
the  esteem  of  the  nation,  they  would  not  have  been 
the  prime  authors  of  the  King's  death,  either  by 
betraying  or  abandoning  him." 

The   new  Minister   of   Foreign  Affairs  began  to 
play  his  r61e  of  leader  of  French  diplomacy  in  a 


BUMOURIEZ,  MINISTER  OF  FOREIGN  AFFAIBS.  101 

singular  fashion.  Repairing  to  the  Jacobin  Club, 
he  described  himself  as  their  liegeman,  assumed  the 
red  bonnet  in  their  presence,  and,  with  it  on  his  head, 
announced  that  as  soon  as  war  should  be  declared, 
he  would  throw  away  his  pen  in  order  to  resume  his 
sword.  Let  us  add  that  he  was  simultaneously  try- 
ing to  conciliate  the  good  graces  of  Louis  XVL  and 
to  persuade  him  that  if  he  leaned  upon  the  Jacobins, 
it  was  solely  in  the  hope  of  serving  the  King  and 
consolidating  the  throne.  At  the  same  time  he  ap- 
pointed as  director  of  foreign  affairs  that  Bonne- 
Carrere  whose  portrait  has  been  traced  in  this  wise 
by  Brissot :  "  Falling  with  all  his  vices  and  perverse 
habits  into  the  midst  of  a  revolution  whereby  the 
people  had  recovered  sovereignty,  he  merely  changed 
his  idol  without  changing  his  idolatry.  He  caressed 
the  people  instead  of  caressing  the  great,  made  the 
hall  of  the  Jacobins  his  Q5il-de-Boeuf,  played  valet  to 
the  successful  parties  one  after  another,  the  Lameths 
and  the  Mirabeaus,  and  succeeded  in  raising  himself 
from  the  secretaryship  of  the  Jacobins  to  the  embassy 
of  Li^ge,  by  the  aid  of  that  very  Montmorin  who  de- 
tested the  Jacobins,  and  could  but  advance  a  man 
who  betrayed  them." 

Dumouriez  then,  foUomng  the  example  of  Mira- 
beau,  was  about  to  play  a  double  game ;  to  be  revolu- 
tionary with  the  Revolution  and  a  courtier  with  the 
court.  As  to  Madame  Roland,  he  never  placed  him- 
self at  her  feet.  The  despotism  of  this  female  min- 
ister, the  pretentions  of  this  demagogic  bluestocking, 


102  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTT. 

her  affectation  of  puritan  rigor,  her  mania  for  direct- 
ing everything,  shocked  the  good  sense  of  a  man 
who  believed  that  woman  is  made  to  please,  not  to 
reign.  It  was  repugnant  to  this  soldier  to  take  his 
orders  from  the  Egeria  of  the  Girondins.  On  the 
other  hand,  Dumouriez  was  displeasing  to  Madame 
Roland.  She  found  him  too  dissolute  and  not  senti- 
mental enough.  She  could  not  pardon  his  having 
Madame  de  Beauvert  for  mistress  and  Bonne- 
Carrere  for  confidant.  She  admitted  neither  his 
free-and-easy  tone,  his  Gallic  humor,  nor  his  natural 
gaiety,  so  unlike  the  declamatory  tone  and  preten- 
tious jargon  of  the  disciples  of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau. 
Moreover,  she  found  him  too  much  of  a  royalist,  too 
accustomed  to  the  old  regime.  The  ministry,  appar- 
ently so  homogeneous,  was  soon  to  be  divided  against 
itself. 


X. 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  MINISTEKS. 

LOUIS  XVI.  had  been  persuaded  that  the  only 
means  of  regaining  public  confidence  would 
be  to  name  a  ministry  chosen  by  the  Gironde  and 
accepted  by  the  Jacobins.  The  six  ministers  — 
Dumouriez  of  Foreign  Affairs,  Roland  of  the  Interior, 
De  Grave  of  War,  Clavi^re  of  Finances,  Duranton  of 
Justice,  Lacoste  of  Marine — formed  what  was  called 
the  Girondin  ministry ;  the  reactionists  named  it  the 
sans-culottes  ministry.  The  revolutionists  rejoiced  in 
its  advent,  while  the  royalists  sought  to  cover  it  with 
ridicule. 

On  the  day  when  the  Council  met  for  the  first 
time  at  the  Tuileries  (in  the  great  royal  cabinet  on 
the  first  floor,  afterwards  called  the  Salon  of  Louis 
XIV.),  Roland  created  a  scandal  by  his  plebeian 
dress.  The  simplicity  of  his  costume,  his  round  hat, 
his  shoes  fastened  with  ribbons  instead  of  buckles, 
caused,  as  his  wife  disdainfully  remarks,  "astonish- 
ment to  all  the  valets,  those  creatures  who,  existing 
only  for  the  sake  of  etiquette,  thought  the  safety  of 
the  empire  depended  on  its  preservation."  The  mas- 
ter of  ceremonies,  approaching  Dumouriez  with  an 

103 


104  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

uneasy  frown,  glanced  at  Roland,  and  said  in  an 
undertone,  "  Eh !  sir,  no  buckles  on  his  shoes ! " 
"  Ah !  sir,  all  is  lost ! "  replied  Dumouriez  so  coolly 
that  it  raised  a  laugh. 

Louis  XVI.,  who  wished,  as  one  might  say,  to 
enlarge  the  borders  of  gentleness  and  resignation, 
displayed  more  than  good-will  towards  the  ministers ; 
he  showed  them  deference.  This  was  the  more  mer- 
itorious because  to  him  this  ministry  was  like  a 
reunion  of  the  seditious,  like  the  Revolution  in  arms 
against  his  crown ;  his  pretended  advisers  seemed 
much  more  like  enemies  than  auxiliaries.  He  tried, 
however,  to  attach  them  to  him  by  kindness,  and 
made  a  sincere  trial  of  his  rights  and  duties  as  a  con- 
stitutional sovereign.  Madame  Roland  herself,  bitter 
and  violent  as  she  is,  renders  him  a  certain  justice. 
"  Louis  XVI.,"  says  she,  "  showed  the  greatest  good 
nature  towards  his  new  ministers ;  this  man  was  not 
precisely  such  as  he  has  been  painted  by  those  who 
seek  to  degrade  him."  As  to  Dumouriez,  he  says  in 
his  Memoirs :  "  Dumouriez  had  been  greatly  deceived 
concerning  the  character  of  Louis  XVI.,  who  had 
been  represented  to  him  as  a  violent  and  wrathful 
man,  who  swore  a  great  deal  and  maltreated  his 
ministers.  He  must,  on  the  contrary,  do  him  the 
justice  to  say  that  during  three'  months  when  he 
observed  him  closely  and  i©  very  delicate  circum- 
stances, he  always  found  him  polite,  gentle,  affable, 
and  even  very  patient.  This  prince  had  a  great 
timidity  arising  from  his  education  and  his  distrust 


THE  COUNCIL   OF  MINISTERS.  105 

of  himself,  some  difficulty  in  speaking,  a  just  and 
dispassionate  mind,  upright  sentiments,  great  knowl- 
edge of  history,  geography,  and  the  arts,  and  an 
astonishing  memory."  Madame  Roland  also  owns 
that  he  had  an  excellent  memory  and  much  activity ; 
that  he  was  never  idle ;  that  he  read  often,  and  had 
a  distinct  knowledge  of  all  the  different  treaties  con- 
cluded by  France  with  neighboring  powers ;  that  he 
knew  history  well,  and  was  the  best  geographer  in 
the  kingdom.  "  His  knowledge  of  the  names  and 
faces  of  those  belonging  to  his  court,"  she  adds,  "and 
the  anecdotes  peculiar  to  each,  extended  to  all  persons 
who  had  come  into  prominence  during  the  Revolu- 
tion ;  no  subject  could  be  mentioned  to  him  on 
which  he  had  not  some  opinion  founded  on  certain 
facts." 

At  first,  the  sessions  of  the  ministry  went  off  very 
tranquilly.  The  King,  with  an  accent  of  candor, 
protested  his  attachment  to  the  Constitution  and  his 
desire  to  see  it  solidly  established.  Often  he  left  his 
ministers  to  chat  among  themselves  without  taking 
any  part  in  their  conversation.  During  such  times 
he  read  his  French  and  English  journals,  or  wrote 
letters.  If  a  decree  was  presented  for  his  sanction, 
he  deferred  his  decision  until  the  next  meeting,  to 
which  he  came  with  a  settled  opinion,  concealing  it 
carefully,  none  the  less,  and  appearing  to  decide  only 
in  accordance  with  the  will  of  the  majority.  He  fre- 
quently evaded  irritating  questions  by  turning  the 
conversation   to   other   subjects.     If   war   were   the 


106  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTY. 

topic,  he  spoke  of  travels ;  apropos  of  diplomacy,  he 
described  the  manners  of  the  country  in  question; 
to  Roland  he  spoke  of  his  works,  to  Dumouriez  of  his 
adventures.  The  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  who 
was  a  firstrclass  story-teller,  and  whose  freedom  of 
speech  was  welcomed  by  the  King,  to  use  Madame 
Roland's  expression,  amused  both  his  colleagues  and 
his  sovereign  by  his  jests  and  anecdotes. 

But  all  this  was  far  from  agreeable  to  the  spiteful 
companion  of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior.  Indig- 
nant at  the  accord  which  seemed  to  exist  between 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  counsellors,  she  dreamed  of 
nothing  but  discussions  and  conflicts.  All  that  wore 
the  appearance  of  reconciliation  was  repugnant  to 
her.  She  made  her  obedient  spouse  recount  to  her 
the  smallest  details  of  the  sessions  of  the  Council, 
meddling  with  and  criticising  all.  During  the  first 
three  weeks,  Roland  and  Claviere,  enchanted  with 
the  King's  dispositions,  flattered  themselves  that  the 
Revolution  was  at  an  end.  Madame  Roland  scoffed 
at  their  confidence.  "  Bon  Dieu^"  she  said  to  them, 
"  every  time  I  see  you  start  for  the  Council  with  this 
charming  confidence,  it  seems  to  me  you  are  ready  to 
commit  some  folly."  —  "I  assure  you,"  replied  Cla- 
viere, "that  the  King  is  perfectly  aware  that  his 
interests  are  bound  up  with  the  observance  of  the 
laws  just  established ;  he  reasons  too  pertinently 
not  to  be  convinced  of  this  truth."  —  "  WeU,"  added 
Roland,  "  if  he  is  not  an  honest  man,  he  is  the  great- 
est rascal  in  the  kingdom ;  nobody  can  dissimulate 


TBE  COUNCIL  OF  MINISTERS.  107 

like  that."  Madame  Roland  rejoined  that  she  could 
not  believe  in  love  for  the  Constitution  on  the  part  of 
a  man  nourished  in  the  prejudices  and  accustomed 
to  the  use  of  despotic  power.  She,  who  doubtless 
thought  herself  the  only  person  capable  of  presiding 
well  at  the  council  of  ministers,  treated  it  as  a  "  caf^ 
where  they  amused  themselves  with  idle  gossip." 
"  There  was  no  record  of  their  deliberations,"  says 
she,  "  nor  a  secretary  to  take  them  down  ;  after  sit- 
ting three  or  four  hours,  they  went  away  without 
having  accomplished  anything  but  a  few  signatures  ; 
it  was  like  this  three  times  a  week."  — "  This  is 
pitiable  !  "  she  would  exclaim  impatiently  when,  on 
his  return,  she  asked  her  husband  what  had  passed. 
"  You  are  all  in  very  good  humor  because  there  have 
been  no  disputes  or  vexations,  and  you  have  even 
been  treated  with  civility ;  each  of  you  seems  to  be 
doing  pretty  much  as  he  pleases  in  his  own  depart- 
ment. I  am  afraid  you  are  being  made  game  of." 
—  "Nevertheless,  business  is  getting  on." — "Yes,  and 
time  is  wasted,  for  in  the  torrent  that  is  carrying  you 
away,  I  should  be  much  better  pleased  to  have  you 
employ  three  hours  in  solid  meditation  on  great  com- 
binations than  to  see  you  spend  them  in  useless 
chatter." 

It  must  needs  be  said  that  no  person  contributea 
more  to  the  downfall  of  royalty  than  Madame  Ro- 
land. At  the  moment  when  the  good  temper  and 
gentleness  of  Louis  XVI.  began  to  gain  upon  his 
ministers,   when   Dumouriez   was    softened    by  the 


108  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

royal  kindness,  when  minds  experienced  a  relaxa- 
tion, and  honest  people,  worn  out  by  so  many  politi- 
cal shocks,  were  sincerely  desirous  of  repose,  it  was 
she  who  nourished  discord,  made  the  Gironde  irrecon- 
cilable, inspired  the  subversive  pamphlets  of  Louvet, 
embittered  her  husband's  heart,  and  invented  the 
provocations  against  which  the  conscience  of  the 
unfortunate  monarch  rebelled.  This  part,  which 
would  have  been  a  sorry  one  for  a  man  to  play, 
seems  still  worse  in  a  woman.  Count  Beugnot 
has  said  very  justly :  "  I  have  seen  that  a  woman  can 
preserve  only  the  faults  of  her  sex  in  the  midst  of 
such  a  frightful  catastrophe,  not  its  virtues.  The 
gentle,  amiable,  sensitive  qualities  grow  and  develop 
in  the  shelter  of  peaceful  domestic  joys ;  they  are  lost 
and  obliterated  in  the  heat  of  debates,  the  bitterness 
of  parties,  and  the  shock  of  passions.  The  soft  and 
tender  foot  of  woman  cannot  tread  unharmed  in 
paths  bristling  with  steel  and  red  with  blood.  To  do 
so  with  safety  she  must  become  a  man ;  but  to  me,  a 
man-woman  seems  a  monster.  Ah  I  let  them  leave 
to  us,  whom  nature  has  granted  the  pitiful  advantage 
of  strength,  the  field  of  contention  and  the  fate  of 
war ;  we  are  adequate  to  this  cruel  destiny ;  but  let 
them  keep  to  the  easier  and  sweeter  part  of  pouring 
balm  into  wounds  and  staunching  tears." 

Roland's  character  was  tranquil ;  it  was  his  wife 
who  made  him  ambitious,  haughty,  and  inflexible. 
She  should  have  pacified  her  husband,  but  instead  of 
that  she  excited  him.     Never  was  he  malevolent  and 


THE  COUNCIL   OF  MINISTERS.  109 

spiteful  enough  to  suit  her.  She  would  not  pardon 
him  a  single  movement  of  compassion  or  respect 
towards  the  august  unfortunates.  Led  by  her,  Ro- 
land no  longer  dared  entertain  a  generous  thought. 
He  returned  shamefaced  to  the  Ministry  of  the  In- 
terior if  he  had  felt  a  humane  sentiment  while  at  the 
Tuileries.  It  is  sad  to  find  tenderness  and  pity  in 
the  heart  of  a  man,  Dumouriez,  and  in  the  heart  of  a 
woman,  Madame  Roland,  nothing  but  malevolence 
and  hatred.  Dumouriez  wanted  to  put  out  the  fire ; 
Madame  Roland,  to  stir  it  up.  Dumouriez  sincerely 
desired  the  King's  safety ;  Madame  Roland  swore  that 
he  should  perish.  If  a  germ  of  pity  woke  to  life  in 
the  hearts  of  the  ministers,  Madame  Roland  hastened 
to  stifle  it.  Her  hostility  towards  the  royal  family 
was  more  than  deliberate ;  there  was  something  like 
ferocity  in  it.  Her  Memoirs  and  those  of  Dumouriez 
display  two  very  different  minds.  Sadness  dominates 
in  his ;  anger  in  hers.  Even  on  the  steps  of  the 
scaffold,  Madame  Roland  will  not  feel  her  hatred 
lessen.  Dumouriez,  on  the  contrary,  will  cast  a 
glance  of  melancholy  respect  upon  the  unfortunate 
sovereign  whose  sorrows  and  whose  resignation,  whose 
gentleness  and  uprightness,  had  touched  him  so 
profoundly. 


XI. 

THE  f£tE  of  the   SWISS   OF  CHATEAUVIEUX. 

DUMOURIEZ,  at  the  beginning  of  his  ministry, 
was  still  the  slave  of  the  Jacobins,  his  allies 
and  protectors.  His  elevation  to  the  mijiistry  was  in 
great  part  due  to  them,  and  even  while  despising 
them,  he  felt  unable  to  shake  off  their  yoke.  Little 
by  little,  they  inspired  him  with  horror,  and  before 
many  weeks  were  over,  his  only  idea  was  to  free  him- 
self from  their  control.  But  at  first  he  treated  them 
like  a  power  with  which  he  was  obliged  to  reckon. 
What  proves  this  is  his  passive  attitude  at  the  time 
of  the  celebrated  fete  of  the  Swiss  of  Chateauvieux. 
The  prologue  of  the  bloody  tragedies  that  were  in 
course  of  preparation,  this  fete  shows  what  head- 
way the  revolutionary  ideas  had  made.  The  sinister 
days  of  the  Convention  were  approaching,  the  Terror, 
existed  in  germ,  and  already  many  representatives 
who,  on  a  secret  ballot,  would  have  voted  in  accord- 
ance with  right  and  honor,  were '  cowardly  enough  lo 
do  so  against  their  conscience  when  they  had  to 
answer  to  their  names. 

Things  had  travelled  fast  since  the  close  of  the 
Constituent  Assembly.     In  1790,  that  Assembly,  as 
110 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  Ill 

the  faithful  guardian  of  discipline,  had  congratulated 
the  Marquis  de  Bouilld  on  the  energy  with  which  he 
repressed  the  military  rebellion  that  broke  out  at 
Nancy,  August  31.  The  soldiers  garrisoned  at  this 
town  were  guilty  of  the  greatest  crimes.  They  pil- 
laged the  military  chests,  arrested  the  officers,  and 
fired  on  the  troops  who  remained  faithful.  M. 
Desilles,  an  officer  of  the  King's  regiment,  conducted 
himself  at  the  time  in  a  heroic  manner.  When  the 
insurgents  were  about  to  discharge  the  cannon  oppo- 
site the  Stainville  gate,  he  sprang  towards  it,  and 
covering  it  with  his  body,  cried  :  "  It  is  your  friends, 
your  brothers,  who  are  coming !  The  National  As- 
sembly sends  them.  Do  you  mean  to  fire  on  them? 
Will  you  disgrace  your  flags  ?  "  It  was  useless  to 
try  to  hold  Desilles  back.  He  broke  away  from  his 
friends  and  threw  himself  again  in  front  of  the  rebels, 
falling  under  four  wounds  at  the  moment  when  the 
fight  began. 

The  Constituent  Assembly  passed  a  decree  by  which 
it  thanked  the  Marquis  de  Bouill^  and  his  troops  "  for 
having  gloriously  fulfilled  their  duty  "  in  repressing 
the  military  insurrection  of  Nancy.  Its  president 
wrote  an  official  letter  to  Desilles,  soon  to  die  in 
consequence  of  his  wounds :  "  The  National  Assem- 
bly has  learned  with  just  admiration,  mingled  with 
profound  sorrow,  the  danger  to  which  your  heroic 
devotion  has  exposed  you ;  in  trying  to  describe  it, 
I  should  weaken  the  emotion  by  which  the  Assembly 
was  penetrated.     So  sublime  an  example  of  courage 


112  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

and  civic  virtue  is  above  all  praise.  It  has  secured 
you  a  sweeter  recompense  and  one  more  worthy  of 
you;  you  will  find  it  in  your  own  heart,  and  the 
eternal  memory  of  the  French  people." 

The  Swiss  regiment  of  Chateauvieux  had  taken 
part  in  the  rebellion  at  Nancy.  Switzerland  had  re- 
served, by  treaty,  its  federal  jurisdiction  over  such  of 
its  troops  as  had  taken  service  under  the  King  of 
France.  By  virtue  of  this  special  jurisdiction  the 
soldiers  of  the  regiment  of  Chateauvieux,  taken  arms 
in  hand,  were  tried  before  a  council  of  war  composed 
of  Swiss  officers.  Twenty-two  were  condemned  to 
death  and  shot.  Fifty  were  condemned  to  the  gal- 
leys and  sent  to  the  convict  prison  at  Brest.  It  was 
in  vain  that  Louis  XVI.  attempted  to  negotiate  their 
pardon  with  the  Swiss  Confederacy.  It  remained 
inflexible,  and  the  guilty  were  still  undergoing  their 
penalty  when  the  Jacobins  resolved  to  release  them 
from  prison  in  defiance  of  the  treaties  uniting  Swit- 
zerland and  France.  "  To  deliver  these  condemned 
prisoners,"  says  Dumouriez  in  his  Memoirs,  "  was  to 
insult  the  Cantons,  attack  their  treaty  rights,  and 
judge  their  criminals.  We  had  enemies  enough 
already  without  seeking  new  ones  among  an  allied 
people  who  were  behaving  wisely  towards  us,  espe- 
cially a  free  and  republican  people."  But  revolu- 
tionary passions  do  not  reason.  CoUot  d'Herbois,  a 
wretched  actor  who  had  passed  from  the  theatrical 
stage  to  that  of  politics,  and  who,  not  content  with 
having  bored  people,  wiahed  to  terrorize  them  also, 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  113 

made  himself  the  champion  of  the  galley-slaves  of  the 
regiment  of  Chateauvieux.  He  was  the  principal 
impresario  of  the  lugubrious  fete  which  disgraced 
Paris  on  April  15,  1792. 

The  programme  was  not  arranged  without  some 
opposition.  Public  opinion  was  not  yet  ripe  for 
saturnalia.  There  were  still  a  few  honest  and  cour- 
ageous publicists  who,  like  Andr^  Ch<^nier,  boldly 
lifted  their  voices  to  stigmatize  certain  infamies.  In 
the  tribune  of  the  Assembly  some  orators  were  to  be 
found  who  expressed  their  minds  freely  and  held 
their  own  against  the  tempests  of  demagogy.  There 
were  generals  and  soldiers  in  the  army  for  whom  dis- 
cipline was  not  an  idle  word ;  and  if  the  f^te  of  the 
Swiss  of  Chateauvieux  made  the  future  Septembrists 
and  furies  of  the  guillotine  utter  shouts  of  joy,  it 
drew  from  honest  men  a  long  cry  of  grief  and 
indignation. 

Intimidated  by  the  menaces  of  the  Jacobins,  the 
Assembly  voted  the  release  of  the  Swiss  incarcerated 
in  the  prison  of  Brest.  But  merely  to  deliver  them 
was  not  enough :  the  Jacobins  wanted  to  give  them 
an  ovation.  Their  march  from  Brest  to  Paris  was  a 
triumph,  and  Collot  d'Herbois  organized  a  gigantic 
fete  in  their  honor. 

Andr^  Ch^nier  was  at  this  time  writing  weekly 
letters  for  the  Journal  de  Paris,  in  which  he  elo- 
quently supported  the  principles  of  order  and  liberty. 
As  M.  de  Lamartine  has  said,  he  was  the  Tyrtseus 
of  good  sense  and  moderation.     He  was  indignant  at 


114  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 


the  threatened  scandal,  and,  in  concert  with  his  col- 
laborator on  the  Journal  de  Paris,  Roucher,  the  poet 
of  Les  Mois,  he  criticised  in  most  energetic  terms  the 
revolutionary  manifestation  then  organizing.  At  the 
Jacobin  Club,  on  April  4,  Collot  d'Herbois  freed  his 
mind  against  him.  "  This  is  not  Ch^nier-Gracchus," 
said  the  comedian ;  "  it  is  another  person,  quite  an- 
other." He  spoke  of  Andr^  as  a  "sterile  prose 
writer,"  and  pointed  him  out  to  popular  vengeance. 
The  two  brothers  were  in  opposing  camps.  While 
Andr6  Ch^nier  stigmatized  the  fete  of  anarchy,  his 
brother  Joseph  was  diligently  manufacturing  scraps 
of  poetry,  inscriptions,  and  devices  which  were  to 
figure  in  the  programme.  "  What ! "  cried  Andr^, 
"  must  we  invent  extravagances  capable  of  destroying 
any  form  of  government,  recompense  rebellion  against 
the  laws,  and  crown  foreign  satellites  for  having  shot 
French  citizens  in  a  riot?  People  say  that  the  statues 
will  be  veiled  in  every  place  through  which  this  pro- 
cession is  to  pass.  Oh !  if  this  odious  orgy  takes 
place,  it  will  be  well  to  veil  the  whole  city ;  but  it 
is  not  the  images  of  despots  that  should  be  wrapt  in 
funeral  crape,  but  the  faces  of  honest  men.  How 
is  it  that  you  do  not  blush  when  a  turbulent  handful, 
who  seem  numerous  because  they  are  united  and 
make  a  noise,  oblige  you  to  do  their  will,  telling  you 
that  it  is  your  own,  and  amusing  your  childish  curi- 
osity meanwhile  with  unworthy  spectacles?  In  a 
city  which  respected  itself  such  a  fete  would  meet 
nothing  but  solitude  and  silence."     The  controversy 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  115 

waxed  furious.  The  walls  were  covered  with  posters 
for  and  against  the  fSte.  Roucher  thus  flagellated 
CoUot  d'Herbois :  "  This  character  out  of  a  comic 
novel,  who  skipped  from  Polichinello's  booth  to  the 
platform  of  the  Jacobins,  has  sprung  at  me  as  if  he 
were  going  to  strike  me  with  the  oar  the  Swiss 
brought  back  from  the  galleys  !  " 

Potion,  then  mayor  of  Paris,  far  from  opposing  the 
fete,  approved  and  encouraged  it.  "I  think  it  my 
duty,"  he  wrote,  April  6,  1792,  "to  explain  myself 
briefly  concerning  the  fete  which  is  being  arranged 
to  celebrate  the  arrival  of  the  soldiers  of  Chateau- 
vie  ux.  Minds  are  heated,  passions  are  in  ferment, 
and  citizens  hold  different  opinions;  everything 
seems  to  betoken  disorder.  It  is  sought  to  change  a 
day  of  rejoicing  into  a  day  of  mourning.  .  .  .  What 
is  it  all  about?  Some  soldiers,  leaders  with  the 
French  guards,  who  have  broken  our  chains  and 
afterwards  been  overloaded  with  them,  are  about  to 
enter  within  our  walls ;  some  citizens  propose  to 
meet  and  offer  them  a  fraternal  welcome ;  these 
citizens  are  obeying  a  natural  impulse  and  using  a 
right  which  belongs  to  all.  The  magistrates  see 
nothing  but  what  is  simple  and  innocent  in  all  this  ; 
they  see  certain  citizens  abandoning  themselves  to 
joy  and  mirth ;  every  one  is  at  liberty  to  participate 
or  not  to  participate  in  the  f§te.  Public  spirit  rises 
and  assumes  a  new  degree  of  energy  amidst  civic 
amusements."  The  municipality  ordered  this  letter 
of  Potion's  to  be  printed,  posted  on  tJie  walls,  and 


116  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

sent  to  the  forty-eight  sectional  committees  and  the 
sixty  battalions  of  the  National  Guard. 

Not  all  the  members  of  the  National  Assembly 
shared  the  optimism  of  the  mayor  of  Paris.  The 
preparations  for  the  fete,  which  was  announced  for 
April  15,  occasioned,  on  the  9th,  a  session  as  affecting 
as  it  was  stormy.  The  whole  debate  should  be  read 
in  the  Moniteur.  The  question  was  put  whether  the 
Swiss  of  Chateauvieux,  then  waiting  outside  the  doors, 
should  be  introduced  and  admitted  to  the  honors  of 
the  session.  M.  de  Gouvion,  who  had  been  major- 
general  of  the  National  Guard  under  Lafayette, 
gravely  ascended  the  tribune.  "Gentlemen,"  said 
he,  "  I  had  a  brother,  a  good  patriot,  who,  through 
the  favorable  opinion  of  your  fellow-citizens,  had 
been  successively  a  commander  of  the  National 
Guard  and  a  member  from  the  Department.  Al- 
ways ready  to  sacrifice  himself  for  the  Revolution 
and  the  law,  it  was  in  the  name  of  the  Revolution 
and  the  law  that  he  was  required  to  march  to  Nancy 
with  the  brave  National  Guards.  There  he  fell, 
pierced  by  fifty  bayonets  in  the  hands  of  those 
who.  ...  I  ask  if  I  am  condemned  to  look  on  tran- 
quilly while  the  assassins  of  my  brother  enter  here  ?  " 
A  voice  rising  from  the  midst  of  the  Assembly  cried : 
"  Very  well,  sir,  go  out !  "  The  galleries  applauded. 
Gouvion  attempted  to  continue.  The  murmurs  re- 
doubled. Several  persons  in  the  galleries  cried: 
"Down!  down!" 

The  Assembly,  revolutionary  though  it  was,  felt 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  117 

indignant  at  the  scandal,  and  called  the  galleries 
to  order.  The  president  reiterated  the  injunction  to 
keep  silence.  Gouvion  began  anew  :  "  I  treat  with 
all  the  contempt  he  merits,  and  with  ...  I  would 
say  the  word  if  I  did  not  respect  the  Assembly  — 
the  coward  who  has  been  base  enough  to  outrage  a 
brother's  grief."  The  question  was  then  put  whether 
the  Swiss  of  Chateau vieux  should  be  admitted  to  the 
honors  of  the  session.  Out  of  546  votes,  288  were 
in  the  affirmative,  and  265  in  the  negative.  Con- 
sequently, the  president  announced  that  the  soldiers 
of  Chateauvieux,  who  had  asked  to  present  them- 
selves to  the  Assembly,  should  be  admitted  to  the 
honors  of  the  session.  Gouvion  went  out  by  one 
door,  indignant,  and  swearing  that  he  would  never 
re-enter  an  Assembly  which  received  his  brother's 
assassins  as  conquerors.  By  another  door,  Collot 
d'Herbois  made  his  entry  with  his  prot^g^s,  the 
ex-galley  slaves. 

The  party  of  the  left  and  the  spectators  in  the 
galleries  burst  into  transports  of  joy,  and  gave  three 
rounds  of  applause.  The  soldiers  entered  the  hall 
to  the  beating  of  drums  and  cries  of  "  Long  live  the 
nation ! "  They  were  followed  by  a  large  procession 
of  men  and  women  carrying  pikes  and  banners.  Col- 
lot d'Herbois,  the  showman  of  the  Swiss,  pronounced 
an  emphatic  address  in  praise  of  the  pretended  mar- 
tyrs of  liberty,  which  the  Assembly  ordered  to  be 
printed.  One  Goachon,  speaking  for  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Antoine,  and  holding  a  pike  ornamented  with  a 


118  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

red  liberty  cap,  exclaimed :  "  The  citizens  of  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint-Antoine,  the  victors  of  the  Bastille,  the 
men  of  July  14,  have  charged  me  to  warn  you  that 
they  are  going  to  make  ten  thousand  more  pikes  after 
the  model  which  you  see." 

The  fete  took  place  on  Sunday,  April  15.  It 
was  the  triumph  of  anarchy,  the  glorification  of 
indiscipline  and  revolt.  On  that  day  the  galley 
slaves  were  treated  like  heroes.  The  emblems 
adopted  were  a  colossal  galley,  ornamented  with 
flowers,  and  the  convicts'  head  gear,  that  hideous 
.red  bonnet  in  which  Dumouriez  had  already  played 
the  buffoon,  and  which  was  presently  to  be  set  on  the 
august  head  of  Louis  XVI.  The  soldier  galley 
slaves,  whose  chains  were  kissed  with  transports  by  a 
swarm  of  harlots,  came  forward  wearing  civic  crowns. 
What  a  difference  between  the  Constituent  Assem- 
bly and  the  Legislative  Assembly !  Under  the 
one,  a  grand  expiatory  ceremony  on  the  Champ-de- 
Mars  had  honored  the  soldiers  slain  at  Nancy,  and 
the  National  Guards  had  worn  mourning  for  these 
martyrs  of  duty.  Under  the  other,  it  was  not  the 
victims  who  were  lauded,  but  their  assassins.  A 
goddess  of  Liberty  in  a  Phrygian  cap  was  borne  in  a 
state  chariot.  The  procession  halted  at  the  Bastille, 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  the  Champ-de-Mars.  The 
mayor  and  municipality  of  Paris  were  present  in 
their  official  capacity.  The  Ca  ira  was  sung  in  a 
frenzy  of  enthusiasm.  Soldiers  and  public  women 
embraced  each  other.     It  was  David  who  had  de- 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  119 

signed  the  costumes,  planned  the  chariot,  and  organ- 
ized the  whole  performance,  —  David,  the  revolution- 
ary artist  who  was  destined  by  a  change  of  fortune 
to  paint  the  portrait  of  a  Pope  and  the  coronation  of 
an  Emperor. 

In  1791,  Andr^  Ch^nier  and  David,  then  friends, 
and  saluting  together  the  dawn  of  the  Revolution, 
had  celebrated  with  lyre  and  pencil  the  "  Serment  du 
Jen  de  PaumeT  ^  Consecrating  an  ode  to  the  painter's 
magnificent  tableau,  the  poet  exclaimed :  — 

.  Resume  thy  golden  robe,  bind  on  thy  chaplet  rich. 
Divine  and  youthful  Poesy  ! 
To  David's  lips,  King  of  the  skilful  brush, 
Bear  the  ambrosial  cup. 

How  he  repented  his  enthusiasm  now !  What  ill- 
will  he  bore  the  artist  who  placed  his  art,  that  sacred 
gift,  at  the  service  of  anarchical  passions !  With 
what  irony  the  same  pen  passed  from  dithyramb  to 
satire ! 

Arts  worthy  of  our  eyes,  pomp  and  magnificence 
Worthy  of  our  liberty. 

Worthy  of  the  vile  tyrants  who  are  devouring  France, 
Worthy  of  the  atrocious-  dementia 

Of  that  stupid  David  whom  in  other  days  I  sang ! 

On  the  very  day  of  the  fete  the  young  poet  had 
the  courage  to  publish  in  the  Journal  de  Paris  an 
avenging  satire,  which  branded  the  shoulders  of  the 
ex-galley  slaves  as  with  a  new  hot  iron.     The  sweet 

^  The  oath  taken  by  the  deputies  of  the  third  estate  in  the  tennis- 
court  of  Versailles,  in  1789. 


120  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

and  pathetic  elegiast,  the  Catullus,  the  Tibullus  of 
France,  added  a  bronze  chord  to  his  lyre :  — 

Hail,  divine  triumph !     Enter  within  our  walls ! 

Bring  us  these  warriors  so  famed 
For  Desilles'  blood,  and  for  the  obsequies 

Of  many  Frenchmen  massacred  .  .  . 
One  day  alone  could  win  so  much  renown, 

And  this  fair  day  will  shine  upon  us  soon  1 
When  thou  shalt  lead  Jourdan  to  our  army. 

And  Lafayette  to  the  scaffoM  1 

Jourdan  was  the  slaughterer,  the  headsman,  the 
torturer  of  the  Glacier  of  Avignon,  who,  coming 
under  the  provisions  of  the  amnesty,  had  arrived  to 
take  part  in  the  triumph  of  the  Swiss  of  Chateauvieux. 
The  acclamations  were  lugubrious.  The  lanterns 
and  torches  shed  a  funereal  glare.  Nothing  is  more 
doleful  than  enthusiasm  for  ignominy.  The  applause 
accorded  to  disgrace  and  crime  sounds  like  sinister 
derision.  Outraged  public  conscience  extinguishes 
the  fires  of  apotheoses  such  as  these.  Madame  Elisa- 
beth, in  a  letter  of  April  18,  speaks  with  a  sort  of 
pity  of  this  odious  but  ridiculous  fete :  "  The  people 
have  been  to  see  Dame  Liberty  waggling  about  on 
her  triumphal  car,  but  they  shrugged  their  shoulders. 
Three  or  four  hundred  sans-culottes  followed,  crying 
'  Long  live  the  nation !  Long  livfe  liberty !  Long  live 
the  sans-culottes  !  to  the  devil  with  Lafayette ! '  All 
this  was  noisy  but  sad.  The  National  Guards  took 
no  part  in  it ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were  indignant, 
and  Potion,  they  say,  is   ashamed  of  his   conduct. 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  121 

The  next  day  a  pike  surmounted  by  a  red  bonnet 
was  carried  noiselessly  through  the  garden,  and  did 
not  remain  there  long."  The  Princess  de  Lamballe, 
who  was  living  at  the  Tuileries  in  the  Pavilion  of 
Flora,  could  see  the  pike  thus  carried  by  a  passer. 
It  may,  perhaps,  have  been  that  belonging  to  one  of 
the  Septembrists,  —  that  on  which  her  own  head  was 
to  be  placed. 

The  Moniteur,  however,  grew  ecstatic  over  the  f^te. 
"There  are  plenty  of  others,"  it  said,  "  who  will  de- 
scribe the  march  of  the  triumphal  cortege,  the  groups 
composing  it,  the  car  of  Liberty,  conducted  by  Fame, 
drawn  by  twenty  superb  horses,  preceded  by  ravish- 
ing music  which  was  sometimes  listened  to  in  religious 
silence  and  sometimes  interrupted  by  wild,  irregu- 
lar dances  whose  very  disorder  was  rendered  more 
piquant  by  the  fraternal  union  reigning  in  all  hearts. 
.  .  .  The  people  were  there  in  all  their  might,  and 
did  not  abuse  it.  There  was  not  a  weapon  to  repress 
excesses,  and  not  an  excess  to  be  repressed."  It  con- 
cluded thus :  "  We  say  to  the  administration :  Give 
such  festivals  as  these  often.  Repeat  this  one  every 
year  on  April  15 ;  let  the  feast  of  Liberty  be  our 
spring  festival ;  and  let  other  civic  solemnities  signal- 
ize the  return  of  the  other  seasons.  In  former  days 
the  people  had  none  but  those  of  their  masters,  and 
all  that  was  accomplished  by  them  was  their  deprav- 
ity and  abasement.  Give  them  some  that  shall  be 
their  own,  and  that  will  elevate  their  souls,  develop 
their  sensibilities,  and  fortify  their  courage.     They 


122  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

will  create,  or,  better,  they  have  already  created,  a 
new  pe'bple.  Popular  festivals  are  the  best  educa- 
tion for  the  people." 

Optimists,  how  will  your  illusions  terminate? 
You  who  see  nothing  but  an  idyl  in  all  this,  can  not 
you  perceive  that  such  ceremonies  are  the  prelude  to 
massacres,  and  that  an  odor  of  blood  mingles  with 
their  perfumes  ?  All  who  took  part  on  either  side  of 
the  heated  controversy  which  preceded  the  ovation 
to  the  Swiss  of  Chateauvieux,  will  be  pui-sued  by 
fate.  Gouvion,  who  had  sworn  never  again  to  set 
foot  within  the  precincts  of  the  Assembly  where  the 
murderers  of  his  brother  triumphed,  kept  his  word. 
On  the  very  day  of  that  shameful  session  he  asked  to 
be  sent  to  the  Army  of  the  North,  and  three  months 
later  was  to  be  carried  off  by  a  cannon-ball.  Still 
more  melancholy  was  to  be  the  fate  of  Potion,  who 
showed  such  complaisance  toward  the  Swiss  on  this 
occasion.  He,  once  so  popular  that  in  1791  he  wa.s 
asked  to  allow  the  ninth  child,  which  a  citizeness  had 
just  presented  to  her  country,  "  to  be  baptized  in  his 
name,  revered  almost  as  much  as  that  of  the  Divin- 
ity " ;  he  of  whom  some  one  said  at  that  time,  "  For 
the  same  reason  which  would  have  made  Jesus  a 
suitable  mayor  of  Jerusalem,  Potion  is  a  suitable 
mayor  of  Paris ;  there  is  too  striking  a  resemblance 
between  them  to  be  overlooked,"  was  sadly  to  ex- 
claim some  months  later:  "I  am  one  of  the  most 
notable  examples  of  popular  inconsistency.  .  .  . 
For  a  long  time  I  have  said   to  myself  and  to  my 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  SWISS.  128 

friends:  The  people  will  hate  me  still  more  than 
they  have  loved  me.  I  can  no  longer  either  enter 
or  depart  from  the  place  where  we  hold  our  sessions 
without  being  exposed  to  the  grossest  insults  and  the 
most  seditious  threats.  How  often  have  I  not  heard 
them  say  as  I  was  passing :  '  Scoundrel !  we  will  have 
your  head ! '  " 

Proscribed  with  the  Girondins,  May  31,  1793,  he 
fled  at  first  to  Normandy,  and  afterwards  into  the 
Gironde,  wandering  from  town  to  town,  from  field  to 
field,  and  hiding  for  several  months  thirty  feet  under 
ground,  in  a  sort  of  well ;  the  poor  people  who  showed 
him  hospitality  paid  for  it  with  their  heads.  Ah! 
how  disenchanted  he  must  have  been  with  that  rev- 
olutionary policy  of  which  he  had  been  the  enthu- 
siastic promoter !  How  sad  .was  the  farewell  to  life 
signed  by  him  and  Buzot :  "  Now  that  it  has  been 
demonstrated  that  liberty  is  hopelessly  lost ;  that  the 
principles  of  morality  and  justice  are  trodden  under 
foot;  that  there  is  nothing  to  choose  between  two 
despotisms,  —  that  of  the  brigands  who  are  tearing  the 
vitals  of  France  and  that  of  foreign  powers ;  that  the 
nation  has  lost  all  its  energy;  that  it  lies  at  the  feet 
of  the  tyrants  by  whom  it  is  oppressed ;  that  we  can 
render  no  further  service  to  our  country ;  that,  far 
from  being  able  to  give  happiness  to  the  beings  we 
hold  most  dear,  we  shall  bring  down  hatred,  vengeance, 
and  misfortune  upon  them,  so  long  as  we  live,  —  we 
have  resolved  to  quit  life  and  be  no  longer  witnesses 
of  the  slavery  which  is  about  to  desolate  our  unhappy 
country." 


124  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

After  ending  with  this  cry  of  grief  and  indignation  : 
"  We  devote  the  vile  scoundrels  who  have  destroyed 
liberty  and  plunged  France  into  an  abyss  of  evils  to 
the  scorn  and  indignation  of  all  time,"  the  two  pro- 
scripts  were  found  dead  in  a  wheat-field  about  a  league 
from  Saint-Emilion.  Their  bodies  were  half  de- 
voured by  wolves. 

And  how  will  Andr^  Ch^nier  end  ?  On  the  day 
of  the  Swiss  fete,  the  city  where  such  a  scandal  took 
place  seemed  to  him  insupportable.  For  several 
days  he  sought  refuge  in  the  country  where  he  could 
breathe  a  purer  air  beneath  the  blossoming  trees. 
But  contemplation  of  nature  did  not  soothe  him. 
Running  to  meet  danger,  he  returned  and  threw 
himself  into  the  furnace,  more  ardent  and  indignant 
than  before.  With  manly  enthusiasm  he  exclaimed : 
"  It  is  above  all  when  the  sacrifices  which  must  be 
made  to  truth,  liberty,  and  country  are  dangerous 
and  difficult,  that  they  are  accompanied  by  inexpres- 
sible delights.  It  is  in  the  midst  of  spying  accusa- 
tions, outrages,  and  proscriptions,  it  is  in  dungeons  and 
on  scaffolds,  that  virtue,  probity,  and  constancy  taste 
the  pleasures  of  a  proud  and  pure  conscience."  Andr^ 
had  a  presentiment  of  his  fate. 

He  was  to  die  on  the  same  day  and  the  same  scaf- 
fold as  his  friend  Roucher,  a  few  hours  earlier  than 
the  moment  when  Robespierre's  condemnation  would 
have  saved  them.  It  is  thus  that  he  was  to  pay  with 
his  life  for  his  opposition  to  the  fete  of  the  Swiss 
of  Chateauvieux,  and  Collot  d'Herbois  was  avenged. 


THE  F&TE  OF  THE  SWISS.  125 

But  after  the  turn  of  the  victims  came  that  of  the 
headsmen.  The  unlucky  comedian  who,  pursuing 
even  his  comrades  v^ith  his  hatred,  asked  that  "  the 
head  of  the  ComSdie  Frangaise  should  be  guillotined 
and  the  rest  transported,"  the  impresario  of  the  fete 
of  the  Swiss  galley  slaves,  the  organizer  of  the  Lyons 
massacres,  CoUot  d'Herbois,  cursed  by  friends  and 
enemies,  was  transported  to  Guiana  and  died  there 
in  1796,  just  as  he  had  lived,  in  an  access  of  burning 
fever. 


XII. 

THE  DECLARATION  OF  WAR. 

THE  wave  of  anarchy  constantly  rose  higher,  but 
the  optimists,  sheltering  themselves,  like  Potion, 
in  a  beatific  calm,  obstinately  closed  their  eyes  and 
would  not  see  it.  Abroad  and  at  home  there  was 
such  a  series  of  shocks  and  agitations,  of  struggles 
and  emotions,  perils  and  troubles ;  things  hurried  on 
so  fast,  and  the  scenes  of  the  drama  were  so  varied 
and  so  violent,  that  what  happened  to-day  was  for- 
gotten by  the  morrow.  The  noise  of  the  fete  of  the 
Swiss  of  Chateauvieux  had  hardly  ceased  when  the 
shouts  of  the  multitude  were  heard  saluting  Louis 
XVI.,  who  had  just  declared  war  on  Austria. 

In  reality,  the  King  did  not  desire  war,  but  the 
bellicose  current  had  become  irresistible.  The  court 
of  Vienna  had  shown  itself  intractable.  It  forbade 
the  princes  who  owned  possessions  in  Lorraine  and 
Alsace  to  receive  the  indemnities  offered  by  France 
in  exchange  for  their  feudal  rights,  and  threatened 
to  have  the  Diet  of  Ratisbonne  annul  any  private 
treaties  they  might  conclude  concerning  them.  The 
electors  of  Treves,  Cologne,  and  Mayence  undisguis- 
edly  favored  the  levying  of  troops  by  the  emigrant 
126 


THE  DECLARATION   OF  WAR.  127 

princes,  and  even  paid  subsidies  toward  their  support. 
They  refused  to  recognize  the  official  ambassadors  of 
Louis  XVI.,  while  recognizing  the  plenipotentiaries 
of  these  princes.  There  was  talk  of  holding  a  Con- 
gress at  Aix-la-Chapelle  for  the  purpose  of  intimidat- 
ing the  National  Assembly.  The  successor  of  the 
Emperor  Leopold,  Francis  II.,  who,  before  his  election 
to  the  Empire,  had  assumed  the  title  of  King  of 
Hungary  and  Bohemia,  displayed  extremely  martial 
sentiments.  Austria,  which  had  sent  forty  thousand 
men  to  the  Low  Countries  and  twenty  thousand  to 
the  Rhine,  had  just  signed  a  treaty  of  alliance  with 
Prussia,  "to  put  an  end  to  the  troubles  in  France." 
Dumouriez  urgently  demanded  the  court  of  Vienna 
to  explain  itself.  It  finally  sent  the  French  Ambas- 
sador, Marquis  de  Noailles,  a  dry,  curt,  and  formal 
note,  naming  the  only  conditions  on  which  peace 
could  be  preserved.  These  were  :  the  re-establish- 
ment of  the  French  monarchy  on  the  bases  of  the 
royal  declaration  of  June  23, 1789,  and,  consequently, 
the  restoration  of  the  nobility  and  clergy  as  orders ; 
the  restitution  of  Church  property;  the  return  of 
Alsace  to  the  German  princes,  with  all  their  sover- 
eign and  feudal  rights ;  and,  finally,  the  surrender  of 
Avignon  and  the  county  of  Venaisson  to  the  Holy 
See. 

"In  truth,"  says  Dumouriez  in  his  Memoirs,  "if 
the  Viennese  minister  had  slept  through  the  entire 
thirty-three  months  that  had  elapsed  since  the  royal 
stance,  and  had  dictated  this  note  on  awaking  with- 


128  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

out  knowledge  of  what  had  happened,  he  could  not 
have  proposed  conditions  more  incongruous  with  the 
progress  of  the  Revolution.  .  .  .  The  new  social 
compact  was  founded  on  the  abolition  of  the  orders 
and  the  equality  of  all  citizens.  The  financial  sys- 
tem, which  alone  could  prevent  bankruptcy,  was 
founded  on  the  creation  of  assignats.  The  assignats 
were  hypothecated  on  the  property  of  the  clergy, 
now  become  the  property  of  the  nation,  and  the 
greater  part  of  which  had  been  already  sold.  The 
nation,  therefore,  could  not  accept  these  conditions 
except  by  violating  its  Constitution,  destroying  prop- 
erty, ruining  its  purchasers,  annulling  its  assignats, 
and  declaring  bankruptcy.  Could  so  humiliating  an 
obedience  be  expected  from  a  great  nation,  proud  of 
having  conquered  its  liberty  ?  and  that  for  the  sake 
of  placing  itself  once  more  under  the  yoke  of  nobles 
who,  having  abandoned  their  King  himself,  now 
threatened  to  re-enter  their  country  with  sword  and 
flame  and  every  scourge  of  vengeance  ?  " 

The  entire  National  Assembly  reasoned  in  the  same 
way  as  Dumouriez.  A  cry  for  war  arose  on  all  sides. 
The  Girondins  saw  in  it  the  indispensable  consecra- 
tion of  the  Revolution.  The  Feuillants  hoped  that 
besides  proving  creditable  to  the  government,  it 
would  accomplish  the  additional  end  of  drawing 
away  from  Paris  and  other  great  cities  a  multitude 
of  turbulent  men  who,  for  lack  of  anything  else  to 
do,  were  disturbing  public  order.  Certain  reaction- 
ists, stifling  the  sentiment  of  patriotism  in  their  hearts, 


THE  DECLARATION  OF  WAR.  129 

were  equally  anxious  for  war,  in  the  secret  hope  that 
it  would  prove  disastrous  for  the  French  army,  and 
result  in  the  re-establishment  of  the  old  regime. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  were  good  citizens,  inclined 
to  optimism  and  judging  others  by  themselves,  who 
thought  that  when  confronted  with  an  enemy,  all 
intestine  dissensions  would  vanish  as  by  enchant- 
ment, and  that  the  new  Constitution,  hallowed  by 
victory  and  glory,  would  ensure  the  country  a  most 
brilliant  destiny.  Ministers  were  unanimous,  and 
enthusiasm  universal.  Even  if  he  had  so  desired, 
Louis  XVI.  could  no  longer  resist  it.  On  April  20, 
1792,  he  went  to  the  Assembly.  The  hall  was  filled 
with  a  crowd  which  comprehended  the  importance 
and  solemnity  of  the  act  about  to  be  accomplished. 

According  to  Dumouriez,  the  King  was  very  ma- 
jestic :  "  I  come,"  he  said,  "  in  accordance  with  the 
terms  of  the  Constitution,  formally  to  propose  war 
against  the  King  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia."  He 
afterwards  paid  the  greatest  attention  to  the  report 
of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  seemed,  by  the 
motions  of  his  head  and  hands,  to  approve  it  in  every 
respect.  He  returned  to  the  Tuileries  amidst  general 
acclamations.  War  was  unanimously  decided  on, 
and  Dumouriez  went  to  the  diplomatic  committee  in 
order  to  draw  up  the  declaration.  At  ten  in  the 
evening  the  decree  was  brought  in  and  carried  to  the 
King,  who  sanctioned  it  at  once. 

Thus  commenced  that  gigantic  war  which  France 
was  to  wage  against  all  Europe,  and  which  ended, 


130  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

twenty-three  years  later,  in  the  disaster  of  Waterloo. 
How  many  battles,  what  suffering,  and  what  a  pro- 
digious shedding  of  blood !  And  to  attain  what  end? 
Simply  the  point  of  departure ;  that  is  to  say,  in  the 
political  order,  to  constitutional  monarchy,  and  in 
territory,  to  the  boundaries  of  1792.  What !  to  have 
filled  Europe  with  noise  and  renown ;  to  have  carried 
the  standards  of  France  from  east  to  west,  from 
north  to  south;  to  have  camped  victoriously  in 
Brussels,  Milan,  Venice,  Rome,  Naples,  Cairo,  Berlin, 
Madrid,  Vienna,  Moscow ;  to  have  enlarged  the  bor- 
ders of  valor,  heroism,  and  self-sacrifice  in  order  to 
arrive,  after  so  many  efforts,  just  at  the  spot  where 
the  strife  began  ?  Ah !  how  short-sighted  is  human 
wisdom,  how  deceitful  the  previsions  of  mortal  man, 
how  sterile  the  agitations  of  republics  and  mon- 
archs !  "  Assuredly ! "  says  Dumouriez,  "  if  the 
Emperor  and  the  King  of  Prussia  could  have  fore- 
seen that  France  was  able  to  withstand  all  Europe, 
they  would  not  have  meddled  with  her  domestic 
quarrels ;  they  would  have  treated  the  SmigrSs  not 
with  confidence,  but  compassion;  they  would  have 
responded  frankly  and  without  trickery  to  the  minis- 
ter's negotiation;  the  Revolution  would  have  been 
accomplished  without  cruelties ;  Europe  would  have 
remained  at  peace,  and  France  would  be  happy." 
What  sadness  underlies  all  history,  and  what  dispro- 
portion there  is  between  man's  sacrifices  and  their 
results !  The  Revolution  was  achieved.  All  neces- 
sary liberties  had  been   conquered.     Privileges   ex- 


THE  DECLARATION   OF  WAR.  131 

isted  no  longer.  Animated  by  excellent  intentions, 
Louis  XVI.  would  have  been  the  best  of  constitu- 
tional sovereigns,  had  his  subjects  possessed  wisdom. 
Why  this  long  misunderstanding  between  him  and 
his  people  ?  Why,  on  one  side,  the  insensate  attitude 
of  the  Smigres,  whose  task  seemed  to  be  to  justify 
the  revolutionists;  and  why,  on  the  other,  those 
savage  passions  which  seemed  trying  to  justify  the 
wrathful  recriminations  of  Coblentz?  Why  that 
untimely  intervention  of  Austria  which  irritated 
French  national  sentiment  and  gave  a  political  pre- 
text to  inexcusable  violence,  cruelty,  and  crime? 
Inextricable  confusion  of  false  situations !  Multi- 
tudes asked  themselves  in  what  direction  right  and 
duty  lay.  A  large  contingent  of  the  French  nobility 
heartily  desired  the  success  of  foreign  armies.  At 
Coblentz  a  gathering  of  twenty-two  thousand  gentle- 
men hastened  to  the  side  of  the  seven  Bourbon 
princes :  the  Comte  de  Provence,  the  Comte  d'Artois, 
the  Due  de  Berry,  the  Due  d'Angouleme,  the  Prince 
de  Conde,  the  Due  de  Bourbon,  and  the  Due 
d'Enghien. 

As  M.  de  Lamartine  has  said:  "Infidelity  to  the 
country  called  itself  fidelity  to  the  King.  Desertion 
called  itself  honor.  Fealty  to  the  throne  was  the 
religion  of  the  French  nobility.  To  them  the  sov- 
ereignty of  the  people  seemed  an  insolent  dogma 
against  which  it  was  necessary  to  draw  the  sword 
under  penalty  of  sharing  the  crime.  There  was  real 
devotion  in  the  act  by  which  these  men,  young  and 


132  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

old,  abandoned  their  rank  in  the  army,  and  the  ties 
of  country  and  family,  and  rushed  into  a  foreign 
land  to  defend  the  white  flag  as  common  soldiers.  .  .  . 
Their  country  symbolized  duty  for  the  patriots;  to 
the  SmigrSs^  duty  meant  the  throne.  One  of  these 
parties  deceived  itself  concerning  its  duty,  but  both 
of  them  believed  they  were  performing  it." 

As  to  the  unfortunate  Louis  XVI.,  he  suffered 
cruelly.  It  was  like  death  to  him  to  declare  war 
against  his  nephew,  and  at  certain  moments  he  felt 
that  this  Austrian  army  against  which  his  troops 
contended  might  yet  be  his  last  resource.  He  could 
not  even  flatter  himself  that  the  sacrifice  he  had 
made  of  his  sympathies  and  family  feelings  would  be 
repaid  by  the  love  and  confidence  of  his  people. 

"  We  have  no  difficulty  nowadays  in  comprehend- 
ing," says  M.  Geffroy  very  justly,  "  what  pure  patri- 
otism there  was  in  that  young  army  of  1792,  which 
represented  new  France.  But  this  army,  formed 
in  independence  of  the  old  regiments,  was  none 
the  less,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Queen,  a  veritable  army 
of  sedition.  She  thought  of  it  as  composed  of  the 
victors  of  the  Bastille,  those  whom  Mirabeau  styled 
the  greatest  scoundrels  of  Paris;  the  very  rabble 
who  came  to  Versailles  on  the  6th  of  October.  She 
believed  they  could  be  crushed  by  the  first  attack  at 
the  frontier,  and  that  France  and  Paris  would  be  rid 
of  them."  The  following  reflection  by  M.  Geffroy  is 
very  judicious :  "  Marie  Antoinette  committed  a 
double  error,  but  honest  men  who  had  not  the  same 


THE  DECLABATION   OF  WAR.  133 

overpowering  motives  as  she,  have  committed  it 
likewise.  I  do  not  allude  merely  to  those  French- 
men who,  after  April  20,  remained  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Emigration,  and  who,  apparently,  did  not 
suppose  themselves  to  be  betraying  the  true  inter- 
ests of  their  country.  But  look  at  M.  de  Bouill^. 
He  even  accepted  a  command  in  the  foreign  army 
under  Gustavus  III.  And  yet  M.  de  Bouille  is  an 
honest  man  who  knows  France  and  loves  her  ardently. 
Observe,  in  his  Memoirs,  his  involuntary  pride  in  our 
success,  and  how  he  shrugs  his  shoulders  at  the 
bluster  of  the  Prussian  officers." 

It  is  not  yet  well  understood  what  vigor,  enthusi- 
asm, and  martial  ardor  animated  that  brave  national 
army,  which,  according  to  the  foreigners,  was  but  a 
band  of  rioters,  but  which  was  suddenly  to  appear  on 
the  battle-field  as  a  people  of  heroes.  Honor  took 
refuge  in  the  camps.  It  was  there  that  men  whom 
the  Jacobin  Club  enraged,  and  who  had  no  consola- 
tion for  their  patriotic  grief  but  the  virile  emotions  of 
combat,  went  to  fight  and  die.  Why  did  not  Louis 
XVI.  call  to  mind  that  he  was  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  army?  Ah!  had  he  been  a  soldier,  had 
he  been  accustomed  to  wear  a  uniform,  to  command, 
and,  above  all,  to  speak  to  his  troops,  how  quickly  he 
would  have  come  to  the  end  of  his  difficulties ! 
Count  de  Yaublanc  had  good  reason  to  say :  "  Any- 
thing can  be  done  with  Frenchmen  if  one  knows  how 
to  animate  and  impress  them  with  vehement  ardor ; 
otherwise,  nothing  need  be  expected.  .  .  .     Never  did 


134  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

a  prince  merit  better  the  eternal  rewards  promised 
by  religion  to  the  true  Christian ;  and  yet  his  exam- 
ple should  forever  teach  kings  that  their  conduct 
must  be  totally  different  from  his.  Lacking  the  cour- 
age which  acts,  the  most  virtuous  king  cannot  achieve 
his  own  safety."  Why  did  not  Louis  XVI.  go 
amongst  his  soldiers?  Victory  would  have  given 
him  a  sceptre  and  a  crown.  While  he  still  retained 
his  sword,  why  did  he  leave  it  in  the  scabbard? 
Why  did  he  not  remember  that  it  might  launch 
thunderbolts  ? 

On  the  contrary,  Louis  XVI.  hesitates,  fumbles, 
temporizes.  Count  de  Vaublanc  says  again :  "  This 
wretched  time  proves  thoroughly  that  finesse  is  the 
most  detestable  means  of  conducting  great  affairs. 
Nothing  but  finesse  was  opposed  to  the  impetuous 
attacks  of  the  Jacobins.  All  was  dissimulation ; 
conversations,  writings,  measures;  authority  acted 
only  by  crooked  ways.  With  a  thousand  means  of 
safety,  people  were  lost  because  they  pushed  prudence 
to  excess,  and  extreme  prudence  always  degenerates 
into  despicable  means.  I  was  in  every  great  crisis 
of  the  Revolution,  and  I  have  always  seen  the  same 
faults  produce  the  same  misfortunes.  It  Ls  the  same 
thing  in  revolution  as  in  war ;  no  matter  how  prudent 
a  general  may  be,  he  must  take  some  risk.  Other- 
wise it  would  be  impossible  to  gain  a  single  battle." 

Ah  I  how  true  and  how  striking  is  that  great  say- 
ing of  Bossuet :  "  When  God  wills  to  overthrow 
empires,  all  is  feeble  and  irregular  in  their  designs.' 


THE  DECLARATION   OF  WAR.  135 

Undecided  and  fickle,  Louis  XVI.  does  not  even 
know  whether  to  desire  the  success  or  the  failure  of 
the  Austrian  army.  He  has  no  plan,  no  steadiness  of 
purpose.  The  secret  mission  he  gives  to  Mallet  du 
Pan  is  a  fresh  proof  of  the  irresolution  of  his  charac- 
ter and  his  policy.  What  is  it  he  asks?  To  have 
the  Powers  declare  that  they  are  making  war  against 
an  anti-social  faction,  and  not  the  French  nation ;  that 
they  are  undertaking  the  defence  of  legitimate  gov- 
ernments and  of  peoples  against  anarchy ;  that  they 
will  treat  only  with  the  King ;  that  they  shall  de- 
mand perfect  liberty  for  him;  that  they  convoke  a 
congress  to  which  the  SmigrSs  may  be  admitted  as 
complainants,  and  where  the  general  scheme  of  claims 
and  reclamations  shall  be  negotiated  under  the  aus- 
pices and  the  guarantee  of  the  great  courts  of  Europe. 
Hesitating  between  Austria  and  his  own  kingdom, 
the  unhappy  monarch  attempts  to  continue  that  equiv- 
ocal system,  that  see-saw  policy  in  which  he  has 
succeeded  so  ill,  and  which  constrains  him  to  dissimu- 
lation, that  last  resource  of  the  feeble.  Sent  to  Ger- 
many with  instructions  written  by  Louis  XVL,  with 
his  own  hand.  Mallet  du  Pan  recommends  the  sover- 
eigns to  be  cautious  in  advancing  into  France,  to 
observe  the  greatest  prudence  in  dealing  with  the 
inhabitants  of  the  invaded  provinces,  and  to  precede 
their  arrival  by  a  manifesto  in  which  they  declare 
conciliatory  and  pacific  intentions.  It  follows  that 
official  ministers  of  the  King  did  not  possess  his  con- 
fidence and  were  not  the  interpreters  of  his  mind.     A 


136  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

sort  of  occult  and  mysterious  government  existed, 
with  a  diplomacy,  secret  funds,  and  agents  abroad 
and  at  home.  Such  a  system,  lacking  all  grandeur 
and  sincerity,  could  accomplish  nothing  but  catas- 
trophes. 

Meanwhile,  the  war  had  begun  under  the  most 
painful  conditions.  The  invasion  of  Belgium,  ar- 
ranged for  the  end  of  April,  failed  miserably.  Near 
Mons,  Biron's  troops  took  to  flight,  threatening  to 
fire  on  their  officers,  and  crying :  "  We  are  betrayed ! " 
At  Lille,  General  Theobald  Dillon  was  massacred  by 
his  own  soldiers.  Such  news  caused  indescribable 
emotion  in  Paris.  Popular  mistrust  and  irritation 
reached  their  height.  The  different  parties  hurled 
reproaches  and  accusations  in  each  other's  face.  The 
Girondins,  finding  the  National  Guard  too  conserva- 
tive, demanded  pikes  for  the  men  of  the  faubourgs 
who  had  no  guns.  The  sans-culottes  enlisted.  The 
army  of  assassins  was  organized.  The  only  thing 
left  to  do  before  giving  the  signal  for  a  riot  was  to 
obtain  from  the  King  a  last  concession,  —  the  dis- 
banding of  his  guard. 


XIII. 

THE  DISBANDING  OF  THE   CONSTITUTIONAL    GUARD. 

LOUIS  XVI.  had  still  some  defenders,  some 
heroes  resolved  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  their 
blood  for  their  King.  Hence  it  was  necessary  to 
remove  them  from  his  person.  What  means  of  doing 
so  could  be  found  ?  Calumny.  Fable  on  fable  was 
spread  among  an  always  credulous  public,  imaginary 
conspiracies  invented,  and  the  wretched  monarch 
constrained  to  deprive  himself  of  his  last  resource,  in 
order  to  deliver  him,  weak  and  disarmed,  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies. 

The  Constitution  provided  a  guard  for  Louis  XVI. 
One  third  of  it  was  composed  of  soldiers  of  the  line, 
and  the  remainder  of  National  Guards,  chosen  by 
the  Departments  themselves  from  among  their  best- 
formed,  richest,  and  best-bred  citizens.  It  was  com- 
manded by  one  of  the  greatest  lords  6f  the  old 
r%ime,  the  Duke  de  Coss^-Brissac.  Born  in  1734, 
the  son  of  a  marshal  of  France,  the  Duke  had  been 
governor  of  Paris,  grand  steward  of  France,  and 
colonel  of  the  Hundred-Switzers.  He  had  never 
been  willing  to  leave  the  King  since  the  beginning 
of   the   Revolution.     When   his    regiment   was   dis« 

137 


138  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTr. 

banded  he  might  have  fled,  and  Louis  XVI.  begged 
him  to  do  so ;  but  the  heart  of  a  subject  so  faithful 
had  been  deaf  to  the  entreaties  of  the  unfortunate 
sovereign.  "  Sire,"  he  had  answered,  "  if  I  fly,  they 
will  say  that  I  am  guilty,  and  j^ou  will  be  considered 
my  accomplice :  my  flight  would  be  your  accusation ; 
I  would  rather  die."  And,  in  fact,  he  did  die.  He 
had  a  real  devotion  to  the  former  mistress  of  Louis 
XV.,  the  Countess  du  Barry,  and  this  latest  con- 
quest is  not  the  least  important  of  the  favorite's 
adventures.  Probably  Count  d'AUonville  exagger- 
ates when,  in  his  Memoirs,  he  extols  in  Madame  du 
Barry  "  that  decency  of  tone,  that  nobility  of  manners, 
that  bearing  equally  removed  from  pride  and  humil- 
ity, from  license  and  from  prudery,  that  countenance 
which  was  enough  to  refute  all  the  pamphlets." 
Nevertheless,  it  is  certain  that  the  society  of  the  Duke 
de  Brissac  inspired  the  former  favorite  with  generous 
sentiments.  After  the  October  Days,  she  took  the 
wounded  body-guards  into  her  own  house,  and  when 
the  Queen  sent  to  thank  her  for  it,  she  replied: 
"  These  wounded  young  men  •  regret  nothing  except 
not  having  died  for  a  princess  so  worthy  of  all 
homage  as  Your  Majesty.  .  .  .  Luciennes^  is  yours, 
Madame ;  did  not  your  benevolence  give  it  back  to 
me  ?  .  .  .  The  late  King,  by  a  sort  of  presentiment, 
forced  me   to    accept   a   thousand  precious   objects 

1  The  magnificent  mansion  built  for  Madame  du  Barry  by  Loms 
XV. ,  and  restored  to  her  after  her  banishment  to  Meaux  by  Marie 
Antoinette. 


DISBANDING  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  GUABD.    139 

before  sending  me  away  from  his  person.  I  already- 
had  the  honor  of  offering  you  this  treasure  in  the 
time  of  the  Notables ;  I  offer  it  again,  Madame,  with 
eagerness.  You  have  so  many  expenses  to  provide 
for,  and  so  many  favors  to  confer.  Permit  me,  I 
entreat  you,  to  render  to  Caesar  that  which  belongs 
to  Csesar." 

An  enthusiastic  royalist,  a  gentleman  of  the  old 
nobility,  chivalrous  and  full  of  courtesy,  bred  in 
notions  of  romantic  susceptibility  like  those  of  ClSlie 
and  Astree,  the  Duke  de  Brissac,  like  a  knight- 
errant  of  former  times,  represented  at  the  court  of 
Louis  XVI.  a  whole  past  which  was  crumbling  to 
decay.  If  the  unhappy  monarch  had  been  a  man  of 
action,  he  would  have  turned  to  good  advantage  a 
guard  commanded  by  such  a  champion.  He  could 
have  made  it  the  nucleus  of  resistance  by  grouping 
the  Swiss  regiments  and  the  well-inclined  battalions 
of  the  National  Guard  around  it.  Unfortunately, 
there  was  nothing  warlike  in  Louis  XVI.  "  Among 
the  deplorable  causes  which  ruined  him,"  says  the 
Count  de  Vaublanc  in  his  Memoirs,  "  must  be 
counted  the  wretched  education  which  kept  him 
apart  from  every  sort  of  military  action.  I  remember 
that  in  the  early  days  of  the  Consulate,  after  a 
review  held  on  the  Place  of  the  Tuileries  by  Bona- 
parte, when  talking  about  this  to  M.  Suard,  of  the 
French  Academy,  I  said  that  Bonaparte  walked  as  if 
he  were  always  ready  to  defend  himself  sword  in 
hand.      '  Ah,  well ! '  responded  M.  Suard,  naively, 


140  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

'  we  used  to  think  differently ;  we  wanted  the  King 
to  have  nothing  military  about  him,  and  never  to 
wear  a  uniform.' " 

To  this  anecdote,  M.  de  Vaublanc  adds  another. 
"  We  had  in  1792,"  he  says,  "  a  forcible  proof  of  the 
despondency  under  which  a  royal  soul,  spoiled  by  a 
detestable  education,  can  labor.  M.  de  Narbonne, 
the.  Minister  of  War,  with  great  difficulty  induced 
the  King  to  review  three  excellent  battalions  of  the 
Paris  National  Guard.  He  was  on  foot,  in  silk 
breeches  and  white  silk  stockings,  and  wearing  his 
hair  in  a  black  bag.  After  the  review  a  notary, 
named  Chandon,  I  think,  left  the  ranks  and  said  to 
the  King :  '  Sire,  the  National  Guard  would  be 
greatly  honored  to  see  Your  Majesty  in  its  uniform.' 
'  Sire,'  said  M.  de  Narbonne,  at  once,  '  have  the 
goodness  to  promise  to  do  so.  At  the  head  of  these 
three  battalions  of  heroes  you  could  destroy  the 
Jacobins'  den.'  After  a  minute's  reflection,  the  King 
replied:  'I  will  inquire  of  my  Council  whether  the 
Constitution  permits  me  to  wear  the  uniform  of  the 
National  Guard.' "  Louis  XVI.  allowed  the  last 
resources  accorded  by  fortune  to  slip  away,  and 
elements  which  in  other  hands  would  have  produced 
notable  results,  remained  sterile  in  his. 

The  Constitutional  Guard,  which  according  to 
regulation  should  have  numbered  eighteen  hundred 
men,  really  amounted,  says  Dumouriez,  to  six 
thousand  fit  for  duty.  The  royalist  element  pre- 
dominated in  it.     But  a  certain  number  of  "false 


DISBANDING  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  GUARD.      141 

brethren  "  had  found  their  way  into  the  ranks,  who 
managed  by  the  aid  of  bribery  to  spy  upon  their 
officers,  and  made  reports  to  the  committee  of  public 
safety.  Undoubtedly  the  King's  guards  did  not 
approve  of  all  that  was  going  on.  But  how  could 
devoted  royalists  and  men  accustomed  to  discipline 
be  expected  to  approve  the  fete  of  the  Swiss  of 
Chateauvieux,  for  example?  How  could  they  help 
being  indignant  when,  while  on  duty  at  the  Tuileries, 
they  heard  the  populace  insult  the  royal  family  under 
the  very  windows  of  the  palace  ? 

When  they  returned  to  their  barracks  at  the  Mili- 
tary School,  they  expressed  this  indignation  too  forci- 
bly, and  their  words,  hawked  about  in  all  quarters 
by  ill-will,  were  represented  as  the  preliminary  symp- 
toms of  a  reactionary  plot.  A  guard  commanded  by 
a  Duke  de  Brissac  was  intolerable  to  the  Jacobins. 
Their  sole  idea  was  to  drive  it  from  the  Tuileries, 
where  its  presence  appeared  to  insure  order, — 
a  thing  they  held  in  utmost  horror.  A  20th  of 
June  would  not  have  been  possible  with  a  constitu- 
tional guard,  and  ever  since  May,  the  20th  of  June 
had  been  in  course  of  preparation.  Its  organizers 
had  their  plan  completely  laid  already.  An  adroit 
rumor  was  started  of  a  so-called  plot,  some  Saint- 
Bartholomew  or  other,  which  they  pretended  was  on 
foot  against  the  patriots,  and  of  which  the  Ecole 
Militaire  was  the  centre.  The  white  flag,  which  was 
to  be  the  signal  for  the  assassins  to  assemble,  was 
said  to  be  hidden  there.     Potion,  the  mayor  of  Paris, 


142  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

under  pretext  of  preventing  troubles,  sent  municipal 
officers  to  make  a  search.  They  could  not  lay  their 
hands  on  the  white  flag  which  was  the  pretended 
object  of  their  visit,  but  they  did  find  monarchical 
hymns  and  ballads,  and  counter-revolutionary  writ- 
ings. 

An  unlucky  incident  still  further  increased  sus- 
picion. The  famous  Countess  de  La  Motte  had  just 
published  in  London  some  new  particulars  concern- 
ing the  affair  of  the  necklace.  In  order  to  avert 
scandal,  the  Queen  had  caused  Laporte,  intendant  of 
the  civil  list,  to  buy  up  the  whole  edition,  and  he  had 
burned  every  copy  of  it  at  the  manufactory  of  Sevres. 
That  very  evening  the  committee  of  surveillance 
were  in  possession  of  the  fact  that  Laporte  had  gone 
to  Sdvres  with  three  unknown  persons,  and  that 
thirty  bales  of  paper  had  been  put  into  the  fire  in  his 
presence.  There  was  at  this  time  a  great  deal  of 
talk  concerning  a  pretended  Austrian  committee,  in 
which  a  complete  plan  of  restoration  by  foreign  aid 
was  being  elaborated.  It  was  claimed  that  the  papers 
burned  at  the  manufactory  were  the  archives  of  this 
committee,  with  which  popular  imagination  was 
extremely  busy.  Denunciations  fell  in  showers. 
Laporte  and  several  others  were  summoned  before 
the  committee  of  surveillance.  .  Potion  declared 
that  the  people  were  surrounded  by  conspiracies. 
Bazire  demanded  the  disbanding  of  the  King's  guard, 
which,  according  to  him,  was  made  up  of  servants  of 
the  Smigr4sy  and  refractory  priests.     It  was  claimed 


DISBANDING  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  GUARD.      143 

that  the  soldiers,  to  whom  the  Duke  de  Brissac  had 
given  sabres  with  hilts  representing  a  cock  sur- 
mounted by  a  royal  crown,  used  insulting  language 
concerning  the  Assembly  and  the  nation  in  their 
barracks.  They  were  said  to  rejoice  in  the  reverses 
which  the  French  troops  had  just  sustained  on  the 
northern  frontier,  and  it  was  added  that  they  meant 
to  march  twenty  leagues  under  a  white  flag  to  meet 
the  Austrians.  The  masses,  always  so  easily  de- 
ceived, were  convinced  that  the  conspiracy  was  on 
the  brink  of  discovery. 

The  National  Assembly  took  up  the  question,  and 
a  stormy  debate  on  it  occupied  the  evening  session 
of  May  29.  "  What  will  become  of  the  individual 
liberty  of  citizens,"  cried  M.  Daverhout^,  "if  the 
dominant  party,  merely  by  alleging  suspicions,  can 
decree  the  impeachment  of  all  who  displease  it,  and 
if  the  different  parties,  coming  successively  into 
power,  overthrow,  by  means  of  this  unchecked  right 
of  impeachment,  both  ministers  and  all  functionaries 
by  the  torrent  of  their  intrigues  ?  In  that  case  you 
would  see  proscriptions  like  those  of  Marius  and 
Sylla."  In  fact,  this  was  what  the  near  future  was 
about  to  show.  Vergniaud  responded  by  evoking  a 
souvenir  of  the  praetorian  guards  of  Caligula  and 
Nero.  At  the  close  of  his  speech  the  Assembly 
passed  the  following  decree :  — 

"  Article  1.  The  existing  hired  guard  of  the 
King  is  disbanded,  and  will  be  replaced  immediately 
in  conformity  with  the  laws. 


144  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

"Art.  2.  Until  the  formation  of  the  new  guard, 
the  National  Guard  of  Paris  will  be  on  duty  near  the 
King's  person,  in  the  same  manner  as  before  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  King's  guard." 

A  discussion  ensued  on  the  subject  of  Brissac's 
impeachment.  The  struggle  between  the  two  oppos- 
ing parties  was  of  unheard-of  vivacity.  One  of  the 
most  courageous  members  of  the  right,  M.  Calvet, 
gave  free  vent  to  his  indignation.  "  The  informer," 
said  he,  "  is  a  scoundrel  who  makes  a  thrust  with  a 
poniard  and  hides  himself ;  he  was  unknown  at  Rome 
until  the  times  of  Sejanus  and  Tiberius ;  times,  gen- 
tlemen, of  which  you  remind  me  often."  "To  the 
Abbey !  to  the  Abbey  !  "  retorted  the  left,  with  fury. 
Said  Guadet :  "  I  demand  that  M.  Calvet  should  be 
sent  to  the  Abbey  for  three  days,  for  having  dared 
to  say  that  the  representatives  of  the  French  people 
remind  him  of  the  Roman  Tiberius  and  Sejanus." 
The  motion  was  adopted,  and  the  Assembly  decided 
that  M.  Calvet  should  pass  three  days  in  prison. 
M.  de  Jaucourt  threatened  to  cudgel  Chabot,  and 
the  ex-friar,  ascending  the  tribune,  said :  "  I  think  it 
was  very  cowardly  on  the  part  of  a  colonel  to  offer 
to  cane  a  Capuchin."  The  Assembly,  having  passed 
an  order  of  the  day  concerning  this  incident,  decreed 
that  "  there  was  reason  for  an  -  accusation  against 
M.  Coss^,  styled  Brissac,  and  that  his  papers  should 
be  sealed  up  at  once." 

The  King  and  Queen,  awakened  in  the  middle  of 
the  night  by  these  tidings,  besought  Brissac  to  make 


DISBANDING  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  GUARD.     145 

his  escape,  and  provided  him  with  the  means.  The 
Duke  refused,  and  instead  of  trying  to  assure  his 
safety,  sat  down  to  write  a  long  letter  to  Madame  du 
Barry.  At  first  Louis  XVI.  wished  to  veto  this  de- 
cree, as  was  his  duty,  but  his  ministers  dissuaded 
him.  They  reminded  him  of  the  October  Days,  and 
the  weak  monarch,  alarmed  on  account  of  his  family, 
if  not  on  his  own,  sacrificed  his  Constitutional  Guard 
and  also  the  brave  servitor  who  commanded  it.  Speak- 
ing to  M.  d'Aubier,  one  of  the  ordinary  gentlemen  of 
the  King's  bedchamber,  the  Queen  said :  "  I  tremble 
lest  the  King's  guard  should  think  the  honor  of  the 
corps  compromised  by  their,  disarmament."  —  "  Doubt- 
less, Madame,  that  corps  would  have  preferred  to  die 
at  the  feet  of  Your  Majesties."  —  "Yes,"  replied  the 
Queen,  "but  the  few  partisans  who  still  adhere  to 
the  King  in  the  Assembly  counsel  him  to  sanction 
the  decree  disbanding  them,  and  to  disregard  their 
advice  is  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  them."  While  the 
Queen  was  yet  speaking,  a  man  approached  under 
pretence  of  asking  alms.  "  You  see,"  said  she  to 
M.  d'Aubier,  "there  is  no  place  and  no  time  when 
I  am  free  from  spies." 

The  Constitutional  Guard  were  sent  as  prisoners 
to  the  Ecole  Militaire  between  a  double  file  of 
National  Guards,  and  forced  to  surrender  their  wea- 
pons. By  a  sort  of  fatality  Louis  XVI.  was  led  to 
disarm  himself,  to  spike  his  cannons,  tear  down  his 
flags,  and  dismantle  his  fortresses.  By  dint  of  ap- 
proaching too  near  the  fatal  declivity  of  concessions. 


146  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

he  ended  by  losing  even  his  dignity  as  man  and  King. 
He  was  paralyzed,  annihilated  by  the  Assembly, 
which  treated  him  like  a  hostage,  a  conquered  man, 
and  which  struck  down,  one  after  another,  the  last 
defenders  of  the  monarchy  and  of  public  order.  The 
fate  of  the  Constitutional  Guard  might  well  discour- 
age honest  men  who  only  sought  to  devote  them- 
selves. How  was  it  possible  to  remain  faithful  to  a 
chief  who  was  false  to  himself,  who  was  more  like 
a  victim  than  a  king?  Finding  themselves  unsup- 
ported by  the  Tuileries,  the  royalists  began  to  look 
across  the  frontier,  and  many  men  who  would  have 
flocked  around  an  energetic  monarch,  fled  from  a 
feeble  king  and  sorrowfully  went  to  swell  the  ranks 
of  the  emigration. 

In  spite  of  the  advice  of  Dumouriez,  Louis  XVI. 
would  not  make  use  of  his  right  to  form  another 
guard.  He  preferred  to  put  himself  in  the  hands  of 
the  National  Guard,  who  were  his  jailors  rather  than 
his  servants.  As  to  the  Duke  de  Brissac,  even  the 
formality  of  an  interrogatory  was  dispensed  with, 
and  he  was  sent  before  the  Superior  Court  of  Orleans. 
When  he  bade  adieu  to  Louis  XVI.,  the  King  said  to 
him :  "  You  are  going  to  prison ;  I  should  be  much 
more  afflicted  if  you  were  not  leaving  me  there  my- 
self." What  wa^  to  be  the  fate  of  the  loyal  and 
devoted  servant,  thus  sacrificed  to  his  master's  inex- 
cusable weakness  ?  He  left  the  dungeons  of  Orleans 
only  to  be  transferred  to  Versailles  by  the  Marseillais, 
and  there,  on  September  9,  1792,  was  assaulted  by  a 


DISBANDING  THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  GUARD.     147 

furious  throng  surrounding  the  carriages  containing 
the  prisonei-s.  The  brave  old  man  struggled  long 
against  the  assassins,  but,  after  losing  two  fingers  and 
receiving  several  other  wounds,  he  was  killed  by  a 
sabre-thrust  which  broke  his  jaw,  and  his  head  was 
set  on  one  of  the  spikes  of  the  palace  gate. 


XIV. 

THE  SUFFERINGS  OF  LOUIS  XVI. 

DISSATISFIED  with  men  and  things,  dissatis^ 
fied  with  others  and  himself,  the  mind  and 
heart  of  Louis  XVI.  were  the  prey  of  moral  tortures 
which  left  him  no  repose.  He  began  to  be  ashamed 
of  his  concessions,  and  to  repent  of  having  accepted 
pusillanimous  advice.  Why  had  he  not  succeeded  in 
being  a  king  ?  Why  had  he  garrisoned  Paris  insuffi- 
ciently ever  since  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution? 
Why  had  he  suffered  the  Bastille  to  be  taken, 
encouraged  the  emigration,  and  disbanded  his  body- 
guards ?  Why  had  he  not  opposed  the  first  persecu- 
tions aimed  at  the  Church  ?  Why  had  he  pretended 
to  approve  acts  and  ideas  which  horrified  him  ?  Why, 
by  resorting  to  deplorable  equivocations  which  cast 
a  shadow  over  his  policy  and  his  character,  had  he 
reduced  his  most  devoted  followers  to  doubt  and 
despair?  Such  thoughts  as  these  assailed  him  like 
so  many  stings  of  conscience.  The  sentiments  of 
monarchy  and  of  military  honor  awoke  in  him  once 
more,  and  he  sounded  with  bitterness  the  whole  depth 
of  the  abyss  into  which  his  irresolution  had  plunged 
him.  In  seeing  what  he  was,  he  recalled  sorrowfully 
148 


THE  SUFFERINGS   OF  LOUIS  XVI.  149 

what  he  had  been,  and  comprehended  by  cruel  ex- 
perience what  feebleness  could  make  of  a  Most  Chris- 
tian King  and  eldest  son  of  the  Church,  an  heir  of 
Louis  XIV.  He  thought  of  the  many  brave  men, 
victims  of  his  political  errors,  who  on  his  account  had 
suffered  exile  and  ruin ;  of  the  faithful  royalists  men- 
aced, because  of  him,  with  prison  and  death.  He 
thought  of  the  incessantly  repeated  crimes,  the  mas- 
sacres of  the  Glaci^re,  the  impunity  of  the  brigands 
of  "  headsman "  Jourdan,  of  Brissac's  incarceration. 
This  is  what  it  is,  he  said  within  himself,  to  have  suf- 
fered religion  to  be  persecuted  and  to  have  believed 
that,  were  the  altar  once  overthrown,  the  throne  might 
rest  secure.  He  reproached  himself  bitterly  for  hav- 
ing sanctioned  the  civil  organization  of  the  clergy  at 
the  close  of  1790,  and  thus  drawn  upon  himself  the 
censure  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff.  He  wanted  to  be 
done  with  concessions,  but  he  understood  perfectly 
that  it  was  too  late  now  to  resist,  and  that  he  was 
irrevocably  lost  in  consequence  of  events  undesired 
and  unforeseen. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  How  could  he  sail  against 
the  stream  ?  Where  find  a  point  of  vantage  ?  Ought 
he  to  take  violent  measures  ?  If  the  unhappy  King 
had  been  alone,  perhaps  he  might  have  tried  to  do  so. 
But  he  feared  to  endanger  his  wife  and  children  by 
thus  acting. 

As  if  to  push  the  wretched  monarch  to  extremities, 
the  National  Assembly  passed  two  decrees  which 
struck  him  to  the  heart.     According  to  the  first  of 


150  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTY. 

these,  voted  May  19,  any  ecclesiastic  having  refused 
the  oath  to  the  civil  constitution  of  the  clergy,  could 
be  transported  at  the  simple  request  of  twenty  citi- 
zens of  the  canton  in  which  he  resided.  According 
to  the  second,  voted  June  8,  a  camp  of  twenty  thou- 
sand federates,  recruited  from  every  canton  of  the 
realm,  were  to  be  assembled  before  Paris,  in  order, 
as  was  said  in  one  of  the  preambles,  "  to  take  every 
hope  from  the  enemies  of  the  common  weal  who  are 
scheming  in  the  interior." 

They  had  counted  too  much  on  the  King's  patience. 
He  could  not  resolve  to  sanction  the  two  decrees,  and 
banish  the  ecclesiastics  whose  behavior  he  honored. 
Dumouriez  afflicted  him  still  further,  when,  in  entreat- 
ing him  to  yield,  he  asked  why  he  had  sanctioned, 
at  the  close  of  1790,  the  decree  obliging  the  clergy 
to  take  oath  to  the  civil  constitution  of  the  clergy. 
"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  you  sanctioned  the  decree  for  the 
priests'  oath,  and  it  is  to  that  your  veto  must  be  ap- 
plied. If  I  had  been  one  of  your  counsellors  at  the 
time,  I  would,  at  the  risk  of  my  life,  have  advised 
you  to  refuse  your  sanction.  Now  my  opinion  is  that 
having,  as  I  dare  to  say,  committed  the  fault  of 
approving  this  decree,  which  has  produced  enormous 
evils,  your  veto,  if  you  apply  it  to  the  second  decree, 
which  may  arrest  the  deluge  of  blood  ready  to  flow, 
will  burden  your  conscience  with  all  the  crimes  to 
which  the  people  are  tending."  Never  had  a  sover- 
eign's conscience  been  a  prey  to  similar  perplexities. 
Louis  XVI.  seemed  crushed  beneath  an  irresistible 


THE  SUFFERINGS  OF  LOUIS   XVI.  151 

fatality.  The  Tuileries,  haunted  night  and  day  by 
the  spectre  of  Charles  I.,  assumed  a  dismal  air.  At 
this  period  a  sort  of  stupor  characterized  the  counte- 
nance, the  gait,  and  even  the  silence  of  the  future 
victim  of  January  21.  He  no  longer  spoke;  one  might 
say  he  no  longer  thought.  He  seemed  prostrated, 
petrified. 

A  rumor  got  about  that  he  had  become  almost 
imbecile  through  care  and  trouble,  so  much  so  that 
he  did  not  recognize  his  son,  but  on  seeing  him 
approach,  had  asked  :  "  What  child  is  that  ?  "  It  was 
added  that  while  out  walking  he  caught  sight  of  the 
steeple  of  Saint  Denis  from  the  top  of  the  hill,  and 
cried  out :  "  That  is  where  I  shall  be  on  my  birthday." 
He  had  been  so  calumniated,  so  misunderstood,  so  out- 
raged, that  not  merely  his  crown  but  his  existence 
had  become  an  intolerable  burden  to  him.  His  throne 
and  his  life  alike  disgusted  him.  He  was  no  longer 
a  King,  but  only  the  ghost  of  one. 

Madame  Campan  thus  describes  him :  "  At  this 
period  the  King  fell  into  a  discouragement  amounting 
to  physical  prostration.  For  ten  days  together  he 
never  uttered  a  word,  even  in  the  bosom  of  his  fam- 
ily, except  when  the  game  of  backgammon,  which  he 
played  with  Madame  Elisabeth  after  dinner,  obliged 
him  to  pronounce  some  indispensable  words.  The 
Queen  drew  him  out  of  this  condition,  so  fatal  at  a  crit- 
ical time  when  every  minute  may  necessitate  action, 
by  throwing  herself  at  his  feet  and  addressing  him 
sometimes  in  words  intended  only  to  frighten  him, 


152  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

and  at  others  expressing  her  affection  for  him.  She 
demanded,  also,  what  he  owed  to  his  family,  and  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  if  they  must  perish,  it  ought  to 
be  with  honor,  and  without  waiting  to  be  strangled 
one  after  another  on  the  floor  of  their  apartment." 

While  Louis  XVI.  assisted  unmoved,  not  merely 
like  Charles  V.  at  his  own  obsequies,  but  at  those  of 
royalty,  the  blood  of  Maria  Theresa  was  boiling  in 
the  veins  of  Marie  Antoinette.  The  scenes  she 
had  witnessed  sometimes  extorted  sobs  and  cries  of 
anguish  from  her.  Her  pride  revolted  at  seeing  the 
royal  mantle,  crown,  and  sceptre  dragged  through  the 
mire.  She  wanted  to  struggle  to  the  last,  to  hope 
against  all  hope,  to  cling  to  the  last  chances  of  safety 
like  a  shipwrecked  sailor  to  the  fragments  of  lys  ship. 
Who  could  say?  She  might  find  defenders  where 
she  least  expected  them.  It  was  for  this  reason  that 
she  wished  to  meet  Dumouriez,  as  she  had  met  Mira- 
beau  and  Barnave.  Dumouriez  has  preserved  the 
details  of  this  interview  in  his  Memoirs. 

How  times  had  changed!  Secrecy  was  almost 
necessary  if  one  sought  the  honor  of  speaking  with 
the  Queen  of  France.  Even  to  salute  her  was  to 
expose  one's  self  to  the  suspicion  of  belonging  to  the 
pretended  Austrian  committee  which  was  the  per- 
petual object  of  popular  invective.  When  Louis 
XVI.  told  Dumouriez  that  the  Queen  desired  a  pri- 
vate interview  with  him,  the  minister  was  not  at  all 
well  pleased.  He  thought  it  a  useless  step  which 
might  be  misinterpreted  by  all  parties.     However, 


THE  SUFFERINGS   OF  LOUIS  XVI.  153 

he  must  needs  obey.  He  had  received  an  order  to 
go  down  to  the  Queen  an  hour  before  the  meeting  of 
the  Council.  That  it  might  be  tlie  sooner  over,  he 
took  the  precaution  of  going  half  an  hour  late  to  this 
perilous  rendezvous.  He  had  been  presented  to 
Marie  Antoinette  on  the  day  of  his  nomination  as 
minister.  She  had  then  addressed  him  several 
words,  asking  him  to  serve  the  King  well,  and  he 
had  replied  with  a  respectful  phrase.  Since  then 
he  had  not  seen  her.  When  he  entered  her  room, 
he  found  the  Queen  alone,  very  much  flushed,  and 
pacing  to  and  fro  in  an  agitation  which  promised  a 
lively  interview.  She  approached  him  with  an  air 
of  majestic  irritation  :  "  Sir !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  you 
are  all-powerful  at  this  moment,  but  it  is  by  the  favor 
of  the  people,  who  soon  break  their  idols.  Your 
existence  depends  upon  your  conduct."  Dumouriez 
insisted  on  the  necessity  of  scrupulously  respecting 
the  Constitution,  which  Marie  Antoinette  was  unwill- 
ing to  do.  "  It  will  not  last,"  she  said,  raising  her 
voice ;  "  take  care  of  yourself  ! "  —  "  Madame,"  re- 
plied the  minister,  "  I  am  past  fifty ;  I  have  encoun- 
tered many  perils  during  my  life,  and  in  entering 
the  ministry,  I  thoroughly  understood  that  respon- 
sibility was  not  the  greatest  of  my  dangers."  — 
"  Nothing  was  wanting  but  to  calumniate  me,"  cried 
the  Queen,  tears  flowing  from  her  eyes;  "you  seem 
to  think  me  capable  of  having  you  assassinated." 
Agitated  as  greatly  as  the  sovereign,  "  God  pre- 
serve me,"  said  Dumouriez,  "  from  offering  you  so 


154  TUE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

grievous  an  offence  !  Your  Majesty's  character  is 
great  and  noble.  You  have  given  proofs  of  it  which 
I  admire  and  which  have  attached  me  to  you."  Marie 
Antoinette  grew  calmer.  "  Believe  me,  Madame," 
went  on  the  minister ;  "  I  have  no  interest  in  deceiv- 
ing you,  and  I  abhor  anarchy  and  crime  as  much  as 
you  do.  .  .  .  This^  is  not,  as  you  seem  to  think,  a 
popular  and  transitory  movement.  It  is  the  almost 
unanimous  insurrection  of  a  great  nation  against 
inveterate  abuses.  The  conflagration  is  stirred  up  by 
great  parties,  and  there  are  scoundrels  and  fools  in 
all  of  them.  I  behold  nothing  in  the  Revolution  but 
the  King  and  the  nation  as  a  whole ;  all  that  tends 
to  separate  them  leads  to  their  mutual  ruin;  I  am 
doing  all  I  can  to  reunite  them,  and  it  is  your  part 

to  aid  me.      Tj'J_aiTT_nTwiWaj^,1p   fn  ynur^  dp^igns^^y 

SO,  and  I  will  at  once  offer  niy_resignatiQn_jto„th& 
.^ng,  and  go  intojuCQrner  to  bewail_th&-iate-Qf  my 
country  and  your  own."  The  interview  ended  ami- 
caBlyT  The  C^ueen  arid  the  minister  talked  over  the 
different  factions.  Dumouriez  spoke  to  Marie  Antoi- 
nette of  the  faults  and  crimes  of  each ;  he  tried  to 
convince  her  that  she  was  misled  by  those  who 
surrounded  her,  and  the  Queen  appeared  to  be 
convinced.  When  he  was  obliged  to  call  her  atten- 
tion to  the  clock,  as  the  hour  for  the  Council  had 
arrived,  she  dismissed  him  most  affably. 

If  we  may  credit  Madame  Campan,  who  has  also 
given  an  account  of  this  interview,  the  impression 
Marie  Antoinette  received  from  it  was   scarcely  a 


THE  SUFFERINGS   OF  LOUIS  XVI.  155 

good  one.  "  One  day,"  says  Madame  Campan,  "  I 
found  the  Queen  extremely  troubled.  She  said  she 
no  longer  knew  where  she  stood ;  whether  the  Jaco- 
bin chiefs  were  making  overtures  to  her  through 
Dumouriez,  or  Dumouriez,  abandoning  the  Jacobins, 
was  acting  on  his  own  account ;  that  she  had  given 
him  an  audience ;  that,  when  alone  with  her,  he  had 
fallen  at  her  feet  and  said  that  although  he  had 
pulled  the  red  bonnet  down  to  his  ears,  yet  he  was 
not  and  could  not  be  a  Jacobin ;  that  the  Revolution 
had  been  allowed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  rabble 
of  disorganizers  who,  seeking  only  for  pillage,  were 
capable  of  everything,  and  could  furnish  the  Assem- 
bly with  a  formidable  army,  ready  to  undermine  the 
support  of  a  throne  already  too  much  shaken.  While 
speaking  with  extreme  warmth,  he  had  seized  the 
Queen's  hand,  and,  kissing  it  with  transport,  cried, 
'  Permit  yourself  to  be  saved ! '  The  Queen  said  to 
me  that  the  protestations  of  a  traitor  could  not  be 
believed,  and  that  his  entire  conduct  was  so  well 
known  that  undoubtedly  the  wisest  thing  would  be 
not  to  trust  him." 

Meantime,  the  danger  constantly  increased.  Even 
the  gates  of  the  Tuileries  were  no  longer  fastened. 
Hawkers  of  vile  pamphlets  and  sanguinary  satires  on 
the  Queen  cried  their  infamous  wares  under  the  very 
windows  of  the  palace ;  and  the  National  Assembly, 
sitting  close  beside,  and  hearing  them — the  National 
Assembly,  terrorized  by  Jacobins  and  pikemen  — 
dared  not  even  censure  such  baseness.     On  June  4| 


156  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

a  deputy  named  Ribes,  till  then  unknown,  cited  from 
the  tribune  the  titles  of  the  following  articles  in 
Fr^ron's  journal,  V  Orateur  du  Peuple  :  "  The  crowned 
porcupine,  a  constitutional  animal  who  behaves  un- 
constitutionally." — "  Crimes  of  M.  Capet  since  the 
Revolution." — "  Decree  to  be  passed  forbidding  the 
Queen  to  sleep  with  the  King."  —  "  The  royal  tigress, 
separated  from  her  worthy  spouse,  to  serve  as  a  hos- 
tage." "  Rouse  up ! "  cried  the  indignant  deputy. 
"  There  is  still  time.  Join  with  me  in  proclaiming 
war  on  traitors  and  justice  for  the  seditious,  and  the 
country  is  safe  ! "  Ribes  preached  in  the  desert. 
The  Assembly  shrugged  their  shoulders  and  treated 
him  as  a  fool. 

June  11,  another  deputy,  M.  Delsaux,  said  from 
the  tribune  :  "  Last  evening,  at  half-past  seven,  pass- 
ing through  the  Tuileries,  I  saw  an  orator  standing 
on  a  chair  and  speaking  with  great  vehemence.  Mix- 
ing with  the  crowd,  I  heard  him  read  a  libel  strongly 
inciting  to  the  King's  assassination.  This  libel  is 
called,  'The  Fall  of  the  Idol  of  the  French,'  and 
these  sentences  occur  in  it :  '  This  monster  employs 
his  power  and  his  treasures  to  hinder  our  regenera- 
tion. A  new  Charles  IX.,  he  wishes  to  bring  deso- 
lation and  death  to  France.  Go,  cruel  wretch ;  thy 
crimes  shall  have  an  end.  Damiens  was  less  guilty. 
He  was  punished  by  most  horrible  tortures  for  having 
desired  to  deliver  France  from  a  monster.  And  thou, 
whose  offences  are  twenty-five  million  times  greater, 
art  left  unpunished !  But  tremble,  tyrant ;  there  is 
a  Scsevola  amongst  us.' " 


THE  SUFFERINGS   OF  LOUIS  XVL  157 

The  Assembly  listened,  but  took  no  measures. 
No  further  restraint  was  placed  either  on  moral  or 
material  disorder.  Anarchy  showed  a  nameless 
epileptic  ferocity.  Never  had  the  press  been  more 
furious  or  licentious.  It  was  a  torrent  of  mud  and 
gall  and  blood.  The  limits  of  invective  and  insult 
were  driven  further  back.  "You  see  that  I  am 
annoyed,"  said  the  Queen  to  Dumouriez  in  Louis 
XVI.'s  presence ;  "  I  dare  not  go  to  the  window 
looking  into  the  garden.  Last  evening,  needing  a 
breath  of  air,  I  showed  myself  at  the  window  facing 
the  courtyard.  A  gunner  belonging  to  the  guard 
apostrophized  me  in  an  insulting  way,  and  added: 
'  What  pleasure  it  would  give  me  to  have  your  head 
on  the  end  of  my  bayonet ! '  In  that  frightful  garden 
a  man  standing  on  a  chair  reads  out  horrors  against 
us  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  may  be  seen  a  sol- 
dier or  a  priest  whom  they  are  dragging  through  a 
pond,  and  crushing  with  blows  and  insults.  Mean- 
time, others  are  flying  balloons  or  quietly  strolling 
about.     Ah !  what  a  place  !  what  a  people ! " 


XV. 

bolaitd's  dismissal  from  office. 

IN  the  ministry,  as  elsewhere,  discord  reigned.  At 
first,  the  ministers  had  seemed  to  be  of  one 
mind.  They  dined  at  each  other's  houses  four  times 
a  week,  on  the  days  when  there  was  a  meeting  of  the 
Council.  Friday  was  Roland's  day  for  receiving  his 
colleagues  at  his  table,  where  his  wife  presided  and 
perorated.  "  These  dinners,"  says  Etienne  Dumont, 
"were  often  remarkable  for  their  gaiety,  of  which 
no  situation  can  deprive  Frenchmen  when  they  meet 
in  society,  and  which  was  natural  to  men  contented 
with  themselves  and  flattered  by  their  elevation. 
The  future  was  hidden  from  them  by  the  present. 
The  cares  of  the  ministry  were  forgotten.  They 
seated  themselves  in  their  dwellings  as  if  they  were 
to  abide  there  forever."  This  sort  of  political  honey- 
moon could  not  last  very  long.  Things  presently 
began  to  change  for  the  worse.  Dumouriez  tired 
very  soon  of  Madame  Roland's  pretensions;  she 
wanted  to  know,  see,  and  direct  everything,  and  he 
persisted  in  refusing  to  transform  himself  into  a 
puppet  whose  strings  were  to  be  pulled  by  this 
woman  and  the  Girondins.  Madanie  Roland,  who 
108 


BOLAND'S  DISMISSAL  FEOM  OFFICE.         159 

posed  as  a  puritan,  caused  remonstrances  to  be  ad- 
dressed to  Dumouriez  on  the  subject  of  some  more  or 
less  suspicious  affairs,  said  to  have  been  negotiated 
by  Bonne-Carrere,  the  director  at  the  Ministry  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  by  which  Madame  de  Beauvert  was 
supposed  to  have  gained  large  sums.  The  wife  of 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior  had  a  grudge  against 
the  favorite  of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  "She 
is  Dumouriez's  mistress,"  said  she ;  "  she  lives  in  his 
house  and  does  the  honors  at  his  table,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  sensible  men,  who  are  friendly  to  good 
morals  and  liberty.  For  this  license  on  the  part  of 
a  public  man  charged  with  State  affairs  marks 
too  plainly  his  contempt  for  decorum ;  and  Madame 
de  Beauvert,  Rivarol's  sister,  very  well  and  very 
unfavorably  known,  is  surrounded  by  the  tools  of 
aristocracy,  unworthy  in  all  respects."  One  evening, 
after  dinner,  Roland,  "  with  the  gravity  belonging  to 
his  age  and  character,"  as  his  wife  says,  gave  a  lec- 
ture on  morality  to  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
apropos  of  this  matter.  At  first  Dumouriez  mad 
jesting  replies,  but  afterwards  showed  temper  and 
appeared  displeased  with  his  entertainers.  There- 
after he  seldom  visited  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior. 
Reflecting  on  this,  Madame  Roland  said  to  her  hus- 
band :  "  Though  not  a  good  judge  of  intrigue,  I  think 
worldly  wisdom  would  dictate  that  the  hour  has 
come  for  getting  rid  of  Dumouriez,  if  we  wish  to 
avoid  being  ruined  by  him.  I  know  very  well  that 
you  would  be  unwilling  to  lower  yourself  to  such  an 


160  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

action ;  and  yet  it  is  plain  that  Dumouriez  must  be 
seeking  to  disembarrass  himself  of  those  whose  cen- 
sure has  offended  him.  When  one  undertakes  to 
preach,  and  does  so  in  vain,  he  must  either  punish  or 
expect  to  be  molested." 

Thenceforward,  Madame  Roland  formed  a  distinct 
group  within  the  ministry,  composed  of  her  husband, 
Claviere,  and  Servan,  who  had  just  replaced  De  Grave 
as  Minister  of  War.  While  Dumouriez,  Lacoste,  and 
Duranton  (whom  Louis  XVI.  called  "  the  good 
Duranton")  allowed  themselves  to  be  affected  by 
the  King's  goodness,  and  sincerely  wished  to  save 
him,  their  three  colleagues,  inspired  by  the  spiteful 
Madame  Roland,  had  but  one  idea :  to  destroy  him. 
"  Roland,  Claviere,  and  Servan,"  says  Dumouriez  in 
his  Memoirs,  "no  longer  observed  any  moderation, 
not  merely  with  their  colleagues,  but  with  the  King 
himself.  At  every  meeting  of  the  Council  they 
abused  the  mildness  of  this  prince,  in  order  to 
mortify  and  kill  him  with  pin-pricks." 

It  was  Servan  who  proposed  forming  a  camp  of 
twenty  thousand  federates  around  Paris.  He  thought 
it  would  be  a  sort  of  central  revolutionary  army, 
analogous  to  that  English  parliamentary  army  under 
command  of  Cromwell,  which  had  brought  Charles  I. 
to  the  scaffold.  "Servan,  a  very  wicked  naan  and 
most  inimical  to  the  King,"  says  Dumouriez  again, 
"took  the  notion  to  write  to  the  President  of  the 
Assembly,  without  consulting  his  colleagues,  and 
propose  a  decree  for  assembling  an  army  of  twenty 


BOLAND'8  DISMISSAL  FROM  OFFICE.         161 

thousand  men  around  Paris.  This  was  at  the  time 
when  the  Girondin  faction  was  at  the  height  of  its 
power,  having  the  Jacobins  at  their  command,  and 
governing  Paris  through  Potion.  They  wanted  to 
destroy  the  Feuillants,  perhaps  at  the  sword's  point, 
to  put  down  the  court,  and  probably  to  begin  putting 
their  republican  projects  into  execution.  Thus  it  was 
this  faction  which  brought  to  Paris  the  federates 
who  ended  by  causing  every  one  of  them  to  perish 
on  the  scaffold  after  making  Louis  XVI.  ascend  it." 
Dumouriez  was  indignant  that  the  Minister  of  War 
should  have  taken  it  on  himself  to  propose  such  a 
decree  without  even  mentioning  it  to  the  sovereign. 
The  dispute  on  this  matter  was  so  violent  that,  but 
for  the  presence  of  the  King,  the  meeting  of  the 
Council  might  have  come  to  a  bloody  close.  Louis 
XVI.,  deeply  grieved  by  such  scandals,  resolved  to 
dismiss  the  three  ministers,  who,  instead  of  supporting 
him,  were  merely  conspirators  who  had  sworn  his 
ruin. 

The  anguish  of  the  unhappy  monarch  had  reached 
its  height.  Four  councils  were  held  without  his 
returning  the  decrees  submitted  to  him  for  considera- 
tion. The  National  Assembly  grew  impatient.  The 
Jacobins  were  in  a  rage.  At  last  the  King  con- 
cluded to  take  up  in  the  Council  the  decree  relative 
to  the  camp  of  twenty  thousand  federates.  "  I 
think,"  said  Dumouriez,  "  that  the  decree  is  danger- 
ous to  the  nation,  the  King,  the  National  Assembly, 
and  above  all  to  its  authors,  whose  chastisement  it 


162  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

will  turn  out  to  be ;  and  yet,  Sire,  it  is  my  opinion 
that  you  cannot  refuse  it.  It  was  proposed  by 
profound  malice,  debated  with  fury,  and  decreed 
with  enthusiasm;  everybody  is  blinded.  If  you 
veto  it,  it  will  none  the  less  be  passed."  The  hesi- 
tation of  Louis  XVI.  redoubled.  As  to  the  decree 
concerning  the  clergy,  he  declared  that  he  would 
never  sanction  it.  This  was  the  only  time  that 
Dumouriez  ever  saw  "  the  character  of  this  gentle 
soul  somewhat  changed  for  the  worse." 

Meanwhile,  Madame  Roland,  more  impatient  and 
vindictive  than  ever,  wrote  the  famous  letter  supposed 
to  issue  from  her  husband,  which  was  to  echo  in  the 
ears  of  royalty  like  a  funeral  knell.    She  says  of  it :  — 

"  The  letter  was  written  at  one  stroke,  like  nearly 
all  matters  of  the  sort  which  I  have  done ;  for,  to  feel 
the  necessity,  the  fitness  of  a  thing,  to  apprehend  its 
good  effect,  to  desire  to  produce  it,  and  to  give  form 
to  the  object  from  which  this  effect  should  result,  was 
to  me  but  a  single  operation." 

This  letter,  a  veritable  arraignment  of  the  King, 
was  much  more  like  a  club  speech  or  a  newspaper 
article  than  a  letter  from  a  minister  of  state  to  his 
sovereign.  Such  sentences  as  these  pccur  in  it : 
"  Sire,  the  existing  state  of  things  in  France  cannot 
long  continue  ;  it  is  a  crisis  whose  violence  is  attain- 
ing its  highest  point;  it  must  end  by  an  outbreak 
which  should  interest  Your  Majesty  as  seriously  as 
it  affects  the  entire  kingdom.  ...  It  is  no  longer 
possible   to   draw  back.     The  Revolution  is  accom- 


ROLAND'S  DISMISSAL   FROM  OFFICE.         163 

plished  in  men's  minds ;  it  will  end  in  blood  and  be 
cemented  by  blood  if  wisdom  does  not  avert  the  evils 
whicli  it  is  still  possible  to  prevent.  .  .  .  Yet  a  little 
more  delay,  and  the  afflicted  people  will  behold  in 
their  King  the  friend  and  accomplice  of  conspirators. 
Just  Heaven !  hast  Thou  stricken  with  blindness  the 
powerful  of  this  earth,  and  will  they  never  heed  other 
counsels  than  those  which  drag  them  to  destruction  I 
I  know  that  the  austere  language  of  truth  is  rarely 
welcomed  near  the  throne ;  I  know,  also,  that  it  is 
because  it  so  rarely  obtains  a  hearing  there  that 
revolutions  become  necessary  ;  I  know,  above  all, 
that  I  am  bound  to  employ  it  to  Your  Majesty,  not 
merely  as  a  citizen  submissive  to  the  law,  but  as  a 
minister  honored  with  your  confidence,  or  vested 
with  functions  which  imply  this." 

The  letter  also  contained  a  defence  of  the  two  de- 
crees, and  plainly  threatened  Louis  XVI.,  should  he 
veto  them,  with  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war  which 
would  develop  "  that  sombre  energy,  mother  of  vir- 
tues and  of  crimes,  which  is  always  fatal  to  those  who 
have  evoked  it ! "  Was  not  Madame  Roland  here 
announcing  the  September  massacres,  and  the  heinous 
crimes  of  which  she  herself  was  speedily  to  become 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  victims  ? 

At  first  Roland  sent  this  letter  to  the  King,  with  a 
promise  that  it  should  always  remain  a  secret  be- 
tween them.  But,  incited  by  the  vanity  of  his  wife, 
who  was  incessantly  urging  him  on  to  notoriety  and 
display,  Roland  did  not  keep  this  promise.     He  read 


164  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

the  letter  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  Council,  June 
11.  "  The  King,"  says  Dumouriez,  "  listened  to  this 
impudent  diatribe  with  admirable  patience,  and  said 
with  the  greatest  coolness:  'M.  Roland,  you  had 
already  sent  me  your  letter;  it  was  unnecessary  to 
read  it  to  the  Council,  as  it  was  to  remain  a  secret 
between  ourselves.' "  Dumouriez  was  summoned  to 
the  palace  the  following  morning,  June  12.  He 
found  the  King  in  his  own  room,  accompanied  by  the 
Queen.  "  Do  you  think.  Monsieur,"  said  Marie  An- 
toitiette,  "  that  the  King  ought  to  submit  any  longer 
to  the  threats  and  insolence  of  Roland  and  the 
knaverj'^  of  Servan  and  Clavidre  ?  " —  "  No,  Madame," 
he  replied ;  "  I  am  indignant  at  them ;  I  admire  the 
King's  patience,  and  I  venture  to  ask  him  to  make  an 
entire  change  in  his  ministry.  Let  him  dismiss  us 
on  the  spot,  and  appoint  men  belonging  to  neither 
party."  — "  That  is  not  my  intention,"  said  Louis 
XVI.  "  I  wish  you  to  remain,  as  well  as  Lacoste 
and  that  good  man,  Duranton.  Do  me  the  service 
of  ridding  me  of  these  three  factious  and  insolent 
persons,  for  my  patience  is  exhausted."  —  "It  is  a 
dangerous  matter.  Sire,  but  I  will  do  it."  As  a 
condition  of  remaining  in  the  ministry,  Dumouriez 
exacted  the  sanction  of  the  two  decrees.  There  was 
another  ministerial  council  the  same  evening.  Roland, 
Servan,  and  Clavi^re  were  more  insolent  and  acrimo- 
nious than  usual.  Louis  XVI.  closed  the  session 
with  mingled  dissatisfaction  and  dignity. 

At  eight  o'clock  that  evening  (June  12),  Servan, 


ROLAND'S  DISMISSAL  FROM  OFFICE.         165 

the  Minister  of  War,  went  to  Madame  Roland  and 
said:  "Congratulate  me!  I  have  been  turned  out." — ■ 
"  I  am  much  piqued,"  replied  she,  "  that  you  should 
be  the  first  to  receive  that  honor,  but  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  long  before  it  will  be  decreed  to  my  husband 
also."  Madame  Roland's  prayer  was  granted.  The 
virtuous  Minister  of  the  Interior  received  his  letters 
of  dismissal  the  next  morning.  As  Duranton,  who 
delivered  it  at  the  Ministry  of  Justice,  was  slowly 
drawing  it  from  his  pocket,  — 

"  You  make  us  wait  for  our  liberty,"  said  Roland ; 
and,  taking  the  letter,  he  added,  "  In  reality  that  is 
what  it  is."  Then  he  went  home  to  his  wife  to 
announce  to  her  that  he  was  no  longer  minister. 

Madame  Roland,  with  the  instinct  of  hatred,  saw 
at  once  how  to  obtain  revenge.  "  One  thing  remains 
to  be  done,"  she  cried;  "we  must  be  the  first  to  com- 
municate the  news  to  the  Assembly,  sending  them 
at  the  same  time  a  copy  of  the  letter  to  the  King 
which  must  have  caused  it."  This  idea  pleased  the 
ex-minister  highly,  and  he  put  it  instantly  into  exe- 
cution. "  I  was  conscious,"  says  the  irascible  Egeria 
of  the  Girondins  in  her  Memoirs,  "  of  all  the  effects 
this  might  produce,  and  I  was  not  deceived;  my 
double  object  was  attained,  and  both  utility  and  glory 
attended  the  retirement  of  my  husband.  I  had  not 
been  proud  of  his  entering  the  ministry,  but  I  was  of 
his  leaving  it."  Thenceforward  Madame  Roland  was 
to  be  the  most  indefatigable  cause  of  the  Revolution, 
and  Louis  XVI.  was  to  learn  by  experience  what  the 
vengeance  of  a  woman  can  accomplish. 


XVI. 

A  THREE  days'   MmiSTEY. 

DUMOURIEZ  had  taken  the  portfolio  of  war. 
He  kept  it  three  days  only.  But  during 
those  three  days  what  activity!  what  excitement! 
More  than  fifteen  hundred  signatures  affixed,  instruc- 
tions sent  to  all  the  generals,  a  most  tumultuous  ses- 
sion of  the  National  Assembly,  a  last  effort  to  induce 
Louis  XVI.  to  make  further  concessions,  a  resigna- 
tion which  was  to  be  the  signal  for  catastrophes. 
How  the  scenes  of  the  drama  multiply !  How  the 
denouement  is  accelerated! 

The  session  at  which  Dumouriez  was  to  appear  for 
the  first  time  as  Minister  of  War  could  not  fail  to  be 
singular.  It  took  place  June  13,  1792,  and  from  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning  all  the  galleries  had  been 
crowded.  The  Jacobins  had  filled  them  with  their 
satellites.  The  Girondins  had  prepared  a  dramatic 
surprise.  The  three  ex-ministers  were  to  be  brought 
into  the  chamber  under  pretext  of  explaining  the 
causes  of  their  dismissal.  It  was  agreed  that  they 
should  be  received  as  victims  of  the  aristocracy  and 
martyrs  of  the  Revolution.  Roland's  letter  —  say, 
rather,  his  wife's  letter  —  to  Louis  XVI.  was  read  to 
166 


A   THREE  DATS'   MINISTRY.  167 

the  Assembly  and  frequently  interrupted  by  loud 
bursts  of  applause.  Just  as  it  was  finished,  and  some 
one  was  demanding  that  it  should  be  sent  to  all  the 
eighty-three  departments,  Dumouriez  entered  the  hall. 
Murmurs  and  hisses  arose  on  all  sides.  The  Assem- 
bly voted  the  despatch  of  the  letter  to  the  depart- 
ments. A  deputy  exclaimed :  "  It  will  be  a  famous 
document  in  the  history  of  the  Revolution  and  of 
the  ministers."  The  Assembly  went  on  to  declare 
that  Roland  was  followed  by  the  regrets  of  the 
nation.  Then  Dumouriez  ascended  the  tribune  and 
read  a  message  in  which  M.  Lafayette  announced  the 
death  of  M.  de  Gouvion.  He  had  been  major-general 
of  the  National  Guard,  and,  having  quitted  the 
Assembly  rather  than  be  present  at  the  triumph  of 
the  Swiss  of  Chateauvieux,  had  met  his  death  bravely 
in  the  Army  of  the  North.  "  A  cannon-ball,"  said 
the  message,  "has  terminated  a  virtuous  life."  The 
Assembly  was  affected,  and  voted  complimentary 
condolences  to  the  father  of  the  heroic  officer. 

Afterwards,  Dumouriez  read  his  report  on  military 
affairs.  It  was  a  long  criticism  on  the  legislators 
who  had  ordered  a  new  levy  of  troops  before  provid- 
ing the  existing  corps  with  their  full  complements ; 
on  the  muster-masters,  the  standing  committees, 
and  the  market-contractors,  who  were  piling  up 
abuses.  Dumouriez  complained  of  everything;  he 
reproached  the  factions,  and  insisted  on  the  consid- 
eration due  to  ministers.  Guadet  thundered  out: 
"  Do  you  hear  him  ?     He  already  thinks  himself  so 


168  TUB  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

sure  of  power  that  lie  takes  it  on  him  to  give  us 
advice."  —  "And  why  not?"  resumed  the  minister, 
turning  toward  the  side  of  the  Mountain.^  This  bold 
response  astonished  the  most  furious.  Some  one 
said:  "The  document  is  not  signed.  Let  him  sign 
it !  Let  him  sign  it ! "  Dumouriez  called  for  pen 
and  ink,  signed  his  memoir,  and  went  to  lay  it  on  the 
desk.  Then  he  slowly  crossed  the  hall  and  went 
quietly  out  by  the  door  beneath  the  Mountain,  with 
a  haughty  glance  at  his  adversaries.  His  martial 
attitude  disconcerted  them.  The  shouts  and  hoot- 
ings  ceased,  and  complete  silence  ensued.  On  leav- 
ing the  Assembly,  Dumouriez  was  surrounded  by  a 
group  of  persons  before  the  door  of  the  Feuillants, 
but  their  faces  displayed  no  signs  of  anger  toward 
him.  As  soon  as  he  quitted  the  Assembly,  his 
enemies,  no  longer  intimidated  by  his  presence, 
redoubled  their  attacks.  Three  or  four  deputies  left 
the  Chamber,  and  making  their  way  to  him  through 
the  crowd,  said :  "  They  are  raising  the  devil  inside ; 
they  would  like  to  send  you  to  Orleans."  (It  was 
there  the  Duke  de  Brissac  was  imprisoned  and  the 
Superior  Court  held  its  sessions.)  "  So  much  the  bet- 
ter," replied  Dumouriez ;  "  I  would  take  the  baths, 
drink  butter-milk,  and  rest  myself."  This  sally 
amused  the  crowd,  and  the  minister  as  he  entered  the 
Tuileries  garden,  said  to  the  deputies  who  followed 
him :  "  It  will  be  a  mistake  for  my  enemies  to  have 

1  The  advanced  republican  party  in  the  Assembly. 


A   THREE  DAYS'   MINISTRY.  169 

my  memoir  printed,  for  it  will  bring  all  good  citizens 
back  to  me.  At  present,  being  drunk  and  crazy,  you 
have  just  extolled  Roland's  infamous  perfidy  to  the 
skies."  Then  he  went  to  the  palace.  Louis  XVI. 
complimented  him  on  his  firmness,  but  absolutely 
refused  to  sanction  the  decree  against  the  priests. 

Far  from  ameliorating,  the  situation  continued  to 
grow  worse.  Potion's  emissaries  stirred  up  the  in- 
habitants of  the  faubourgs.  That  evening  Dumou- 
riez  sent  a  letter  to  the  King  announcing  that  a  riot 
was  apprehended.  Louis  XVI.  suspected  that  the 
minister  was  lying,  and  wrote  to  him:  "Do  not 
believe,  Monsieur,  that  any  one  can  succeed  in 
frightening  me  by  threats ;  my  resolution  is  taken." 
Dumouriez  had  based  his  entire  scheme  on  the  hypoth- 
esis that  the  decree  concerning  the  priests  would 
be  accepted  by  the  King.  From  the  moment  that 
Louis  XVI.  rejected  it,  Dumouriez  no  longer  hoped 
to  remain  in  the  ministry.  He  wrote  again,  implor- 
ing the  sovereign  to  give  it  his  sanction,  and  an- 
nouncing that,  in  case  of  his  refusal,  the  ministers 
would  all  feel  obliged  to  retire.  The  next  day,  June 
15,  the  King  received  them  in  his  chamber.  "Are 
you  still,"  said  he  to  Dumouriez,  "  in  the  same  sen- 
timents expressed  in  your  letter  last  evening  ?  "  — 
"  Yes,  Sire,  if  Your  Majesty  will  not  permit  yourself 
to  be  moved  by  our  fidelity  and  attachment."  — 
"  Very  well,"  replied  Louis  XVI.,  with  a  gloomy  air, 
"  since  your  decision  is  made,  I  accept  your  resigna- 
tion  and  will  provide  for  it."     Dumouriez  was  no 


170  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

longer  a  minister.  In  his  Memoirs  he  describes  him- 
self as  much  affected,  "not  on  account  of  quitting 
a  dangerous  post,  which  simply  made  his  existence 
disturbed  and  painful,  but  because  he  saw  all  his 
trouble  thrown  away,  and  the  King  handed  over  to 
the  fury  of  cruel  enemies  and  the  criminal  indiscre- 
tion of  false  friends." 

At  bottom,  Dumouriez  inspired  nobody  with  confi- 
dence. He  belonged  to  no  party,  and  no  one  knew 
his  opinions.  He  had  leaned  on  both  Jacobins  and 
Girondins,  while  at  the  same  time  he  was  inspiring 
certain  hopes  in  the  Feuillants,  and  flattering  the  King, 
to  whom  he  promised  signs  and  wonders.  Too  revolu- 
tionary for  the  conservatives  and  too  conservative  for 
the  revolutionists,  he  had  tried  a  see-saw  policy 
which  would  no  longer  answer.  It  became  indispen- 
sable to  make  a  choice.  It  was  impossible  to  please 
both  the  Jacobins  and  the  court. 

And  yet  Dumouriez  was  a  man  of  resources,  and 
it  is  much  to  be  regretted,  on  the  King's  account, 
that  no  better  understanding  could  be  arrived  at 
between  them.  More  successfully  than  any  one  else, 
Dumouriez  might  have  resorted  to  bold  measures  and 
called  in  at  this  time  the  intervention  of  the  army, 
as  he  did  several  years  later.  He  loved  money  and 
rank  ;  royalty  still  excited  a  great  prestige  over  him, 
and  he  had  used  the  Revolution  as  a  means,  not  as 
an  end. 

Could  Louis  XVI.  have  pretended  patience  for  a 
few  days  longer,  perhaps  he  might  have  extricated 


A    THBEE  BATS'   MINISTRY.  171 


himself  from  diiRculties  which,  though  grave,  were 
still  not  insoluble.  He  did  not  choose  his  hour  for 
resistance  wisely.  It  was  either  too  late  or  too  soon. 
The  dismission  of  Dumouriez  was  a  blunder.  At 
what  moment  did  Louis  XVI.  elect  to  deprive  him- 
self of  his  minister's  aid?  That  very  one  when, 
attacked  by  the  Girondins,  exasperated  by  Roland's 
conduct,  and  disgusted  with  the  progress  of  anarchy, 
the  force  of  circumstances  was  about  to  toss  Dumou- 
riez back  to  the  side  of  the  reactionists.  The 
camp  of  twenty  thousand  men,  if  confided  to  safe 
hands,  and  secret  service  money  judiciously  em- 
ployed, might  have  become  the  nucleus  of  a  mon- 
archical resistance.  Lafayette  and  his  partisans  were 
becoming  conservative,  and  between  him  and  Dumou- 
riez agreement  was  not  impossible.  Louis  XVI. 
was  in  too  great  a  hurry.  His  conscience  revolted  at 
an  unfortunate  moment.  Why,  if  he  was  bent  on 
this  veto,  so  just,  so  honest,  but  so  ill-timed,  had  he 
freely  made  so  many  concessions  which  thus  became 
inexplicable  ?  In  rejecting  the  offers  of  Dumouriez, 
the  Queen  possibly  deprived  herself  of  her  only 
remaining  support.  He  who  saved  France  in  the 
Passes  of  Argonne  might,  had  he  gained  the  entire 
confidence  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette, 
have  saved  the  King  and  royalty. 

Dumouriez  had  a  final  interview  with  Louis  XVI., 
June  18.  The  King  received  him  in  his  chamber. 
He  had  resumed  his  kindly  air,  and  when  the  ex- 
minister  had  shown   him   the   accounts  of  the   last 


172  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

fortnight,  lie  complimented  him  on  their  clearness. 
Afterwards,  the  following  conversation  took  place : 
"  Then  you  are  going  to  join  Luckner's  army  ?  "  — 
"  Yes,  Sire,  I  leave  this  frightful  city  with  delight ;  I 
have  but  one  regret;  you  are  in  danger  here."  — 
"Yes,  that. is  certain." — "Well,  Sire,  you  can  no 
longer  fancy  that  I  have  any  personal  interest  to 
nonsuit  in  talking  with  you ;  once  having  left  your 
Council,  I  shall  never  again  approach  you ;  it  is 
through  fidelity  and  the  purest  attachment  that  I 
dare  once  more  entreat  you,  by  your  love  for  your 
country,  your  safety  and  that  of  your  crown,  by  your 
august  spouse  and  your  interesting  children,  not  to 
persist  in  the  fatal  resolution  of  vetoing  the  two 
decrees.  This  persistence  will  do  no  good,  and  you 
will  ruin  yourself  by  it."  — "  Don't  say  any  more 
about  it;  my  decision  is  made." — "Ah!  Sire,  you 
said  the  same  thing  when,  in  this  very  room,  and  in 
presence  of  the  Queen,  you  gave  me  your  word  to 
sanction  them."  —  "I  was  wrong,  and  I  repent  of  it." 
—  "  Sire,  I  shall  never  see  you  again ;  pardon  my 
frankness ;  I  am  fifty-three,  and  I  have  some  expe- 
rience. It  was  not  then  that  you  were  wrong,  but 
now.  Your  conscience  is  abused  concerning  this 
decree  against  the  priests ;  you  are  being  forced  into 
civil  war ;  you  are  helpless,  and  you  will  be  over- 
thrown, and  history,  though  it  may  pity  you,  will 
reproach  you  with  having  caused  all  the  misfortunes 
of  France.  On  your  account,  I  fear  your  friends 
still  more  than  your  enemies."  —  "  God  is  my  witness 


A   THREE  DATS'  MINISTRY.  173 

that  I  wish  for  nothing  but  the  welfare  of  France." 
—  "I  do  not  doubt  it,  Sire ;  but  you  will  have  to 
account  to  God,  not  solely  for  the  purity  but  also  for 
the  enlightened  execution  of  your  intentions.  You 
expect  to  save  religion,  and  you  destroy  it.  The 
priests  will  be  massacred  and  your  crown  torn  from 
you.  Perhaps  even  your  wife,  your  children  ..." 
Emotion  prevented  Dumouriez  from  going  on.  Tears 
stood  in  his  eyes.  He  kissed  the  hand  of  Louis  XVI. 
respectfully.  The  King  wept  also,  and  for  a  moment 
both  were  silent.  "Sire,"  resumed  Dumouriez,  "if 
all  Frenchmen  knew  you  as  well  as  I  do,  our  woes 
would  soon  be  ended.  Do  you  desire  the  welfare  *of 
France  ?  Very  well !  That  demands  the  sacrifice  of 
your  scruples  .  .  .  You  are  still  master  of  your  fate. 
Your  soul  is  guiltless;  believe  a  man  exempt  from 
passion  and  prejudice,  and  who  has  always  told  you 
the  truth." — "I  expect  my  death,"  replied  Louis 
XVI.  sadly,  "  and  I  forgive  them  for  it  in  advance. 
I  thank  you  for  your  sensibility.  You  have  served 
me  well ;  I  esteem  you,  and  if  a  happier  time  shall 
ever  come,  I  will  prove  it  to  you."  With  these  words 
the  King  rose  sadly,  and  went  to  a  window  at  the 
end  of  the  apartment.  Dumouriez  gathered  up  his 
papers  slowly,  in  order  to  gain  time  to  compose  his 
features ;  he  was  unwilling  to  let  his  emotion  become 
evident  to  the  persons  at  the  door  as  he  went  out. 
"  Adieu,"  said  the  King  kindly,  "  and  be  happy ! " 

As  he  was  leaving,  he  met  his  friend  Laporte,  in- 
tendant  of  the  civil  list.     The  two,  who  were  meeting 


174  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

for  the  last  time,  went  into  another  room  and  closed 
the  door.  "  You  advised  me  to  resign,"  said  Laporte, 
"  and  I  meant  to  do  so,  but  I  have  changed  my  mind. 
My  master  is  in  danger,  and  I  will  share  his  fate."  — 
"  If  I  were  in  the  personal  service  of  the  King,  as  you 
are,"  replied  Dumouriez,  "  I  would  think  and  act  the 
same ;  I  esteem  your  devotion,  and  love  you  the  more 
for  it ;  each  of  us  is  faithful  in  his  own  way ;  you,  to 
Louis ;  I,  to  the  King  of  the  French.  May  both  of 
us  felicitate  him  some  day  on  his  happiness ! "  Then 
the  two  friends  separated,  after  embracing  each  other 
with  tears. 

The  sole  thought  of  Dumouriez  now  was  to  escape 
from  the  city  where  he  had  witnessed  so  many  in- 
trigues and  been  so  often  deceived.  He  was  very 
sorrowful  at  heart.  Ordinarily  so  gay,  so  brilliant, 
so  full  of  Gallic  and  Rabelaisian  wit,  power  had  made 
him  melancholy.  His  ministerial  life  left  on  him 
an  abiding  impression  of  bitterness  and  repugnance. 
"  One  needs,"  he  has  said,  "  either  a  patriotism  equal 
to  any  test,  or  else  an  insatiable  ambition,  to  aspire 
in  any  way  whatever  after  those  difficult  positions 
where  one  is  surrounded  with  snares  and  calumnies. 
One  learns  only  too  soon  that  men  are  not  worth  the 
trouble  one  takes  to  govern  them."  June  19,  he 
wrote  to  the  Assembly,  asking  an  authorization  to 
repair  to  the  Army  of  the  North.  "I  have  spent 
thirty-six  years  in  military  and  diplomatic  service, 
and  have  twenty-two  wounds,"  said  he  in  this  letter ; 
"  I  envy  the  fate  of  the  virtuous  Gouvion,  and  should 


A    THREE  BAYS'   MINISTRY.  175 

esteem  myself  happy  if  a  cannon-ball  could,  put  an  end 
to  all  differences  concerning  me."  He  never  again 
returned  either  to  the  palace,  the  Assembly,  or  any 
other  place  where  he  might  encounter  either  minis- 
ters, deputies,  or  persons  belonging  to  the  court.  He 
started  for  the  army,  June  26,  regarding  it  as  "  the 
only  asylum  where  an  honest  man  might  still  be  safe. 
At  least,  death  presents  itself  there  under  the  attrac- 
tive aspect  of  glory."  He  left  in  the  capital  "con- 
sternation, suspicion,  hatred,  which  pierced  through 
the  frivolity  of  the  wretched  Parisians."  With  an 
intuition  worthy  of  a  man  of  genius,  he  foresaw  the 
vicious  circle  about  to  be  described  by  French  history, 
and  divined  that  by  plunging  into  license  men  return 
inevitably  to  servitude,  because  "it  is  impossible  to 
sustain  liberty  with  an  absurd  government,  founded 
on  barbarity,  terror,  and  the  subversion  of  every  prin- 
ciple necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  human  society." 
Two  years  later,  in  1794,  he  wrote  in  his  Memoirs : 
"  The  serpent  will  recoil  upon  itself.  His  tail, 
which  is  anarchy,  will  re-enter  his  throat,  which  is 
despotism." 


XVII. 

THE  PROLOGUE  TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH. 

ON  retiring  from  the  ministry,  Dumouriez  left  his 
successors  a  burden  far  too  heavy  for  their 
shoulders,  and  under  which  they  were  to  succumb. 
The  new  ministers,  Lajard,  Terrier  de  Montciel,  and 
Chambonas,  were  almost  unknown  men  who  had  no 
definite,  decided  opinions,  and  offered  no  resistance 
to  disorder:  for  that  matter,  they  had  no  means  of 
doing  so.  The  political  system  then  in  power  had 
left  Paris  a  helpless  prey  to  sedition.  By  the  new 
laws,  the  executive  power  could  take  no  direct  action 
looking  to  the  preservation  of  public  order  in  any 
French  commune.  Any  minister  or  departmental 
administration  that  should  adopt  a  police  regulation 
or  give  a  commander  to  armed  forces,  would  be 
guilty  of  betraying  a  trust.  The  power  to  prevent 
or  repress  disorder  belonged  exclusively  to  the  munic- 
ipal authority,  which,  in  Paris,  was  composed  of  a 
mayor,  sixteen  administrators,  thirty-two  municipal 
councillors,  a  council-general  of  ninety-six  notables, 
an  attorney-general  and  his  two  substitutes.  This 
body  of  148  members  was  the  redoubtable  power 
known  as  the  Commune  of  Paris.  It  was  not  com- 
176 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      177 

posed  entirely  of  seditious  persons,  and  in  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  also,  there  were  still  battalions  fervently- 
devoted  to  the  constitutional  monarchy.  But  Potion 
was  mayor  of  Paris  ;  Manuel,  the  attorney-general, 
and  Danton  his  substitute.  Seditious  movements 
were  sure  to  find  instigators  and  accomplices  in  these 
three  men. 

Moreover,  the  insurrection  was  regularly  organized. 
It  had  its  muster-rolls,  its  oificers,  sergeants,  soldiers ; 
its  strategy  and  plans  of  battle.  It  utilized  wine- 
shops as  guard-houses,  the  faubourgs  as  barracks,  the 
red  bonnet  and  the  carmagnole,  or  revolutionary 
jacket,  as  a  uniform.  Its  agitators  distributed  wine, 
beer,  and  brandy  gratuitously.  The  Jacobins  or  the 
Cordeliers  had  but  to  give  the  signal  for  a  riot,  and  a 
riot  sprang  out  of  the  ground.  The  mine  was  loaded ; 
the  only  question  was  when  to  fire  the  train.  The 
Girondins  were  of  one  mind  with  the  Jacobins.  Exas- 
perated by  the  dismissal  of  three  ministers  who  shared 
their  opinions,  they  wanted  to  intimidate  the  court 
by  means  of  a  popular  tumult,  and  thus  force  the 
unhappy  sovereign  to  sanction  the  two  decrees,  con- 
cerning the  deportation  of  priests  and  the  camp  of 
twenty  thousand  men.  The  populace  already  mani- 
fested their  restlessness  by  threats  and  strange 
rumors.  At  the  Jacobin  Club  the  most  violent  prop- 
ositions were  mooted.  Some  wanted  to  establish  a 
minority,  on  the  ground  of  the  King's  mental  aliena- 
tion ;  some,  to  send  the  Queen  back  to  Austria ;  the 
more  moderate  talked  of  suppressing  the  army,  dis- 


178  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

missing  the  staff-officers  of  the  National  Guard, 
depriving  the  King  of  the  right  of  veto,  and  electing 
a  Constituent  Assembly.  Revolutionary  conventicles 
multiplied  beyond  all  measure.  The  division  of 
Paris  into  forty-eight  sections  became  an  exhaustless 
source  of  confusion.  The  assembly  of  each  section 
transformed  itself  into  a  club. 

Meanwhile,  the  moderate  party  rested  all  its  hopes 
on  Lafayette,  who  was  friendly  not  only  to  liberty,  but 
to  order.  He  considered  himself  the  founder  of  the 
new  monarchy,  of  constitutional  royalty ;  but,  for 
that  very  reason,  he  felt  that  he  had  duties  toward 
the  King.  Despising  the  reactionists,  whose  hopes 
were  more  or  less  enlisted  on  behalf  of  the  foreign 
armies,  he  also  detested  the  Jacobins  who  were  dis- 
honoring and  compromising  the  new  order  of  things. 
He  expresses  both  sentiments  in  a  letter  addressed 
to  the  National  Assembly,  and  written  from  the 
intrenched  camp  of  Maubeuge,  June  16,  1792,  the 
Fourth  Year  of  Liberty :  "  Can  you  conceal  from 
yourselves,"  he  says  in  it,  "  that  a  faction,  and  to  use 
plain  terms,  the  Jacobin  faction,  has  caused  all  these 
disorder  ?  I  make  the  accusation  boldly.  Organized 
like  a  separate  empire,  with  its  capital  and  its  affil- 
iations blindly  directed  by  certain  ambitious  chiefs, 
this  sect  forms  a  distinct  body  in  the  midst  of  the 
French  people,  whose  powers  it  usurps  by  subjugating 
its  representatives  and  agents.  In  its  public  meet- 
ings, attachment  to  the  laws  is  named  aristocracy, 
and  disobedience  to  them  patriotism  ;  there  the  assas- 


THE  PROLOGUE   TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH.       179 

sins  of  Desilles  are  received  in  triumph,  and  Jourdan's 
insensate  clamor  finds  panegyrists ;  there  the  story  of 
the  assassinations  which  defiled  the  city  of  Metz  is 
still  greeted  with  infernal  applause." 

Lafayette  puts  himself  courageously  forward  in 
his  letter :  "  As  to  me,  gentlemen,  who  espoused  the 
American  cause  at  the  very  time  when  the  ambassa- 
dors assured  me  it  was  lost ;  who,  from  that  period, 
devoted  myself  to  a  persistent  defence  of  the  liberty 
and  sovereignty  of  peoples ;  who,  on  June  11,  1789, 
in  presenting  a  declaration  of  rights  to  my  country, 
dared  to  say,  'For  a  nation  to  be  free,  all  that  is 
necessary  is  that  it  shall  will  to  be  so,'  I  come 
to-day,  full  of  confidence  in  the  justice  of  our  cause, 
of  scorn  for  the  cowards  who  desert  it,  and  of  indig- 
nation against  the  traitors  who  would  sully  it;  I 
come  to  declare  that  the  French  nation,  if  it  be  not 
the  vilest  in  the  universe,  can  and  ought  to  resist  the 
conspiracy  of  kings  which  has  been  leagued  against 
it."  At  the  same  time,  the  general  enthusiastically 
praised  his  soldiers :  "  Doubtless  it  is  not  within  the 
bosom  of  my  brave  army  that  sentiments  of  timid- 
ity are  permissible.  Patriotism,  energy,  discipline, 
patience,  mutual  confidence,  all  civic  and  military 
virtues,  I  find  here.  Here  the  principles  of  liberty 
and  equality  are  cherished,  the  laws  respected,  and 
property  held  sacred;  here,  neither  calumnies  nor 
seditions  are  known." 

Including  both  revolutionists  and  reactionists  in 
the  same  accusation,  Lafayette  makes  this  reflection : 


180  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 


"  What  a  remarkable  conformity  of  language  exists, 
gentlemen,  between  those  seditious  persons  acknowl- 
edged by  the  aristocracy,  and  those  who  usurp  the 
name  of  patriots !  All  are  alike  ready  to  repeal  our 
laws,  to  rejoice  in  disorders,  to  rebel  against  the 
authorities  granted  by  the  people,  to  detest  the 
National  Guard,  to  preach  indiscipline  to  the  army, 
and  almost  to  disseminate  distrust  and  discourage- 
ment." Lafayette  concludes  in  these  words :  "  Let  the 
royal  power  be  intact,  for  it  is  guaranteed  by  the  Con- 
stitution ;  let  it  be  independent,  for  this  independence 
is  one  of  the  forces  of  our  liberty ;  let  the  King  be 
revered,  for  he  is  invested  with  the  national  majesty ; 
let  him  choose  a  ministry  unhampered  by  the  yoke  of 
any  faction;  if  conspirators  exist,  let  them  perish 
only  by  the  sword  of  law;  finally,  let  the  reign  of 
clubs,  brought  to  nothing  by  you,  give  place  to  the 
reign  of  law ;  their  disorganizing  maxims  to  the  true 
principles  of  liberty ;  their  delirious  fury  to  the  calm 
courage  of  a  nation  which  knows  its  rights  and  which 
defends  them ! " 

Lafayette's  letter  was  read  to  the  Assembly  at  the 
session  of  June  18.  The  noble  thoughts  it  expresses 
produced  at  first  a  favorable  impression,  and  it  was 
greeted  with  much  applause.  For  an  instant  the 
Girondins  were  disconcerted ;  but,  feeling  themselves 
supported  by  the  Jacobins  who  lined  the  galleries, 
they  soon  resumed  the  offensive.  "What  does  the 
advice  of  the  general  of  the  army  amount  to,"  said 
Vergniaud,  "  if  it  is  not  law  ?  "     Guadet  maintained 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      181 

that  the  letter  must  be  apocryphal.  "  When  Crom- 
well used  such  language,"  said  he,  "  liberty  was  at  an 
end  in  England,  and  I  cannot  persuade  myself  that 
the  emulator  of  Washington  desires  to  imitate  the 
conduct  of  the  Protector.  We  no  longer  have  a 
constitution  if  a  general  can  give  us  laws."  The 
allusion  to  Cromwell  produced  its  effect.  The  letter, 
instead  of  being  published  and  copies  sent  to  the 
eighty-three  departments,  was  merely  referred  to  a 
committee. 

Nevertheless,  public  opinion  was  aroused.  A 
reactionary  sentiment  against  the  Jacobins  began  to 
show  itself.  The  King  might  have  profited  by  it, 
and  found  his  account  in  relying  upon  Lafayette, 
the  army,  and  the  National  Guard.  But  Louis  XVI. 
was  in  too  much  haste.  His  resistance,  like  his  con- 
cessions, was  maladroit  and  inopportune.  Without 
having  combined  his  means  of  defence,  consulted 
with  Lafayette,  or  having  any  troops  at  his  disposal, 
he  vetoed  the  two  famous  decrees,  June  19,  and  thus 
threw  himself  headlong  into  the  snare.  The  Revolu- 
tion, which  had  lain  in  wait  for  him,  would  not  let 
its  prey  escape.  It  gave  Lafayette  no  time  to  arrive, 
but,  without  losing  a  minute,  organized  an  insurrec- 
tion for  the  next  day.  The  royal  tree  had  been  so 
violently  shaken,  that  it  needed,  or  so  they  thought, 
but  one  more  shock  to  lay  it  low  and  root  it  out. 

On  June  16,  a  request  had  been  presented  to  the 
Council-General  of  the  Commune,  asking  them  to 
authorize  the  citizens  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Antoine 


182  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTY. 

to  assemble  in  arms  on  June  20,  the  anniversary  of 
the  oath  of  the  Jeu  de  Paume^  and  present  a  petition 
to  the  Assembly  and  the  King.  The  Council  had 
passed  to  the  order  of  the  day,  but  the  petitioners 
declared  that  they  would  assemble  notwithstanding. 
On  the  19th,  the  Directory  of  the  department,  which 
on  all  occasions  had  shown  itself  inimical  to  agita- 
tors, and  which  was  presided  over  by  the  Duke  de  La 
Rochefoucauld,  issued  an  order  forbidding  all  armed 
gatherings,  and  enjoining  the  commandant-general 
and  the  mayor  to  take  all  necessary  measures  for 
dispersing  them.  This  order  was  communicated  to 
the  National  Assembly  by  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
at  the  evening  session. 

"  It  is  important,"  said  a  deputy,  "  that  the  Assem- 
bly should  know  the  decrees  of  the  administrative 
bodies  when  they  tend  to  assure  public  tranquillity. 
Nobody  is  ignorant  that  at  this  moment  the  peo- 
ple are  greatly  agitated.  Nobody  is  ignorant  that 
to-morrow  threatens  to  be  a  day  of  violence."  Verg- 
niaud  replied  :  "  I  do  not  know  whether  or  not  to-mor- 
row is  to  be  a  day  of  troubles,  but  I  cannot  understand 
how  M.  Becquet,  who  is  always  so  constitutional" 
(here  there  was  laughter  and  applause),  "how  M. 
Becquet,  by  an  inversion  of  law  and  order,  desires  the 
National  Assembly  to  occupy  itself  with  police  regula- 
tions." The  decree  of  the  Directory  was  read,  never- 
theless. But  the  Assembly,  far  from  supporting  it, 
passed  to  the  order  of  the  day.  The  rioters  had 
nothing  to  fear. 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH.       183 

During  the  same  session,  a  deputation  of  citizens 
from  Marseilles  had  been  presented  at  the  bar  of 
the  Assembly.  The  orator  of  this  deputation  thus 
expressed  himself:  "French  liberty  is  in  danger. 
The  free  men  of  the  South  are  ready  to  march  in  its 
defence.  The  day  of  the  people's  wrath  has  come  at 
last.  The  people,  whom  they  have  always  sought  to 
ruin  or  enslave,  are  tired  of  parrying  blows.  They 
want  to  inflict  them,  and  to  annihilate  conspiracies. 
It  is  time  for  the  people  to  rise.  This  lion,  generous 
but  enraged,  is  about  to  quit  his  repose,  and  spring 
upon  the  pack  of  conspirators."  Here  the  galleries 
applauded  furiously.  The  orator  continued:  "The 
popular  force  is  your  force  ;  employ  it.  No  quarter, 
since  you  can  expect  none."  The  applause  and 
enthusiastic  cries  of  the  galleries  redoubled.  Some- 
body demanded  that  the  speech  should  be  sent  to  the 
eighty-three  departments  of  France.  A  deputy,  M. 
Rouher,  was  courageous  enough  to  exclaim :  "  It  is 
not  by  the  harangues  of  seditious  persons  that  the 
departments  should  be  instructed !  "  Another  dep- 
uty, M.  Lecointre-Puyravaux,  responded :  "  Is  it  sur- 
prising that  men  born  under  a  burning  sun  should 
have  a  more  ardent  imagination  and  a  patriotism 
more  energetic  than  ours  ?  "  The  question  whether 
the  discourse  should  be  sent  to  the  departments  was 
put  to  vote,  and  the  president  and  secretaries  declared 
that  the  Assembly  had  decided  against  it.  This  did 
not  suit  the  public  in  the  galleries.  They  howled, 
they  vociferated.     They  claimed  that  the  result  was 


184  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

doubtful.  They  demanded  a  viva  voce  count.  This 
demand  alarmed  those  deputies  who  never  dared  to 
look  the  Revolution  in  the  face.  A  new  vote  was 
taken,  and  this  time,  the  sending  of  the  address  to 
the  eightj^-three  departments  was  decreed.  With 
such  an  Assembly,  why  should  the  insurrectionists 
have  hesitated? 

The  rioters  of  the  next  day  did  not  hesitate  a 
moment.  The  order  of  the  Directory  had  somewhat 
intimidated  them.  But  Chabot,  the  deputy  so  cele- 
brated for  his  violence  at  the  Jacobin  Club,  hastened 
to  reassure  them.  "  To-morrow,"  said  he,  "  you  will 
be  received  with  open  arms  by  the  National  Assem- 
bly. People  count  on  you."  The  Faubourg  Saint- 
Antoine  was  in  commotion.  Condorcet .  said,  in 
speaking  of  the  anxieties  expressed  by  the  ministers : 
"  Is  it  not  fine  to  see  the  Executive  asking  legisla- 
tors to  provide  means  of  action!  Let  them  save 
themselves  ;  that  is  their  business !  " 

The  Most  Christian  King  is  treated  like  the  Divine 
Master.  Potion,  mayor  of  Paris,  is  to  play  the  r61e 
of  Pontius  Pilate.  He  washes  his  hands  of  all  that 
is  to  happen.  He  orders  the  battalions  of  National 
Guards  under  arms  for  the  following  day,  not  in 
order  to  oppose  the  march  of  the  columns  of  the 
people,  but  to  fraternize  with  the^  petitioners,  and  act 
as  escort  to  the  insurrection.  This  equivocal  meas- 
ure, he  thinks,  will  set  him  right  with  both  the 
Directory  and  the  populace.  To  one  he  says :  "  I 
am  watching,"  and  to  the  other,  "  I  am  with  you." 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  JUNE  TWENTIETH.       185 

The  rioters  count  on  Potion  as  anarchy  counts  on 
weakness.  He  is  precisely  the  magistrate  that  suits 
the  faubourgs  when  they  resort  to  violent  measures. 
A  last  conventicle  was  held  at  the  house  of  San- 
terre  the  brewer,  chief  of  battalion  of  the  National 
Guard  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  on  the  night 
of  June  19-20.  It  broke  up  at  midnight.  All  was 
ready.  The  leaders  of  the  insurrection  repaired 
each  to  his  post.  They  summoned  their  loyal  adher- 
ents, and  sent  them  about  in  small  detachments  to 
assemble  and  mass  together  the  working  classes,  as 
soon  as  they  should  leave  their  houses  in  the  morn- 
ing. Santerre  had  declared  that  the  National  Guard 
could  offer  no  opposition  to  the  rioters.  "Rest  easy," 
said  he  to  the  conspirators  ;  "  Potion  will  be  there." 
Louis  XYI.  no  longer  feigned  not  to  notice  the  dan- 
ger. "  Who  knows,"  said  he  during  the  night  to  M. 
de  Malesherbes,  with  a  melancholy  smile,  "  who  knows 
if  I  shall  see  the  sun  set  to-morrow  ?  " 


XVIII. 

THE  MOBNING  OF  JUNE   TWENTIETH. 

IT  is  Wednesday,  June  20,  1792,  the  anniversary 
of  the  oath  of  the  Jeu  de  Paume.  The  signal 
is  given.  The  faubourgs  assemble.  It  is  five  in  the 
morning.  Santerre,  on  horseback,  is  at  the  Place 
de  la  Bastille,  at  the  head  of  a  popular  staff.  The 
army  of  rioters  forms  slowly.  Some  anxiety  is 
shown  at  first.  The  departmental  decree  forbidding 
armed  gatherings  had  been  posted,  and  occasioned 
some  reflection  in  the  timid.  But  Santerre  reassures 
them.  He  tells  them  that  the  National  Guard  will 
not  be  ordered  to  oppose  their  march,  and  that  they 
may  count  on  Potion's  complicity. 

When  the  march  toward  the  National  Assembly 
begins,  hardly  more  than  fifteen  hundred  are  in  line. 
But  the  little  band  increases  as  it  goes.  The  route 
lies  through  rues  Saint-Antoine,  de  la  Verrerie,  des 
Lombards,  de  la  Ferronnerie,  and- Saint-Honor^.  The 
procession  is  headed  by  soldiers,  after  whom  comes 
a  great  poplar  stretched  upon  a  wagon.  It  is  the 
Liberty  tree.  According  to  some,  it  is  to  be  planted 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Riding  School,  opposite  the 
Assembly  chamber;  according  to  others,  on  the 
186 


THE  MOENING   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        187 

terrace  of  the  Tuileries,  before  the  principal  door  of 
the  palace.  A  military  band  plays  the  Ca  ira,  which 
is  chanted  in  chorus  by  the  insurrectionary  troop. 
No  obstacle  impedes  their  march.  The  torrent  swells 
incessantly.  The  inquisitive  mingle  with  the  ban- 
dits. Some  are  in  uniform,  some  in  rags ;  there  are 
soldiers,  active  and  disabled,  National  Guards,  work- 
men, and  beggars.  Harlots  in  dirty  silk  gowns  join 
the  contingent  from  studios,  garrets,  and  robbers' 
dens,  and  gangs  of  ragpickers  unite  with  butchers 
from  the  slaughter-houses.  Pikes,  lances,  spits, 
masons'  hammers,  paviors'  crowbars,  kitchen  utensils, 
—  their  equipment  is  oddity  itself. 

It  is  noon.  The  session  of  the  Assembly  has  just 
been  opened.  At  this  hour  the  throng,  now  number- 
ing some  twenty  thousand  persons,  enters  the  rue 
Saint-Honord.  The  Directory  of  the  Department  of 
Paris  demands  admission  to  the  bar  on  pressing 
business,  and  the  municipal  attorney-general,  Rce- 
derer,  begins  to  speak.  Heeding  neither  the  mur- 
murs of  the  galleries,  the  disapprobation  of  part 
of  the  Assembly,  nor  the  clamor  sure  to  be  raised 
against  him  that  evening  in  the  Jacobin  and  Cordelier 
clubs,  he  boldly  announces  what  is  going  on.  He 
reminds  them  of  the  law,  and  the  decrees  forbidding 
armed  gatherings  which  have  been  issued  by  the 
Commune  and  the  Department.  He  adds  that, 
without  such  prohibitions,  neither  the  authorities  nor 
private  individuals  have  any  security  for  their  lives. 
"  We  demand,"  cried  he,  "  to  be  invested  with  com- 


188  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTT. 

plete  responsibility ;  we  demand  that  our  obligation 
to  die  for  the  maintenance  of  public  tranquillity  shall 
in  nowise  be  diminished." 

Vergniaud  ascends  the  platform.  He  owns  that, 
in  principle,  the  Assembly  is  wrong  in  admitting 
armed  gatherings  within  its  precincts,  but  he  declares 
that  he  thinks  it  impossible  to  refuse  a  permission 
accorded  to  so  many  others  to  that  which  now  pre- 
sents itself.  He  believes,  moreover,  that  it  could  not 
be  dispersed  without  a  resort  to  martial  law  and  a 
renewal  of  the  massacre  of  the  Champ-de-Mars.  "  It 
would  be  insulting  to  the  citizens  who  are  now  ask- 
ing to  pay  their  respects  to  you,"  said  he,  "  to  sus- 
pect them  of  bad  intentions.  .  .  The  assemblage 
doubtless  does  not  claim  to  accompany  the  citizens 
who  desire  to  present  a  petition  to  the  King.  Never- 
theless, as  a  precaution,  I  propose  that  sixty  members 
of  the  Assembly  shall  be  commissioned  to  go  to  the 
King  and  remain  near  him  until  this  gathering  shall 
have  been  dispersed." 

The  discussion  continues.  M.  Ramond  follows 
Vergniaud.  What  is  going  to  happen  ?  What  will 
the  insurrectionary  column  do?  Glance  for  an  in- 
stant at  the  topography  of  the  Assembly  and  its  envi- 
rons. The  session-chamber  is  the  Hall  of  the  Riding 
School,  which  extends  to  the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants, 
and  occupies  the  site  where  the  rue  de  Rivoli  was 
opened  later  on,  almost  at  the  corner  of  the  future 
rue  de  Castiglione.  It  is  a  building  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  long.     In  front  of  it  is  a  long  and 


THE  MOBNLNQ  OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.       189 

narrow  courtyard  beginning  very  near  the  me  de  Dau- 
phin. It  is  entered  through  this  courtyard,  which  a 
wall,  afterwards  replaced  by  a  grating,  separates  from 
the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants.  It  may  be  entered  at  the 
other  extremity,  also,  at  the  spot  where  the  flight  of 
steps  facing  the  Place  Vend6me  was  afterwards  built. 
From  the  side  of  the  courtyard  it  can  be  approached 
by  carriages,  but  from  the  other,  only  by  pedestrians 
who  cross  the  narrow  passage  of  the  Feuillants,  which 
starts  from  the  rue  Saint-Honor^,  opposite  the  Place 
VendQme,  and  leads  to  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries. 
This  passage  is  bordered  on  the  right  by  the  convent 
of  the  Capuchins ;  on  the  left  is  the  Riding  School, 
almost  at  the  spot  where  the  passage  opens  into  the 
Tuileries  Garden  by  a  door  which  had  just  been 
closed,  and  before  which  had  been  placed  a  cannon 
and  a  battalion  of  National  Guards. 

On  reaching  the  rue  Saint-Honor^,  the  crowd  had 
taken  good  care  not  to  enter  the  court  of  the  Riding 
School,  where  they  might  have  been  arrested  and 
disarmed.  They  preferred  to  follow  the  rue  Saint- 
Honord  and  take  the  passage  conducting  thence  to 
the  Assembly  and  the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants.  Three 
municipal  officei-s  who  had  gone  to  the  Tuileries  Gar- 
den, passed  through  this  passage  before  the  crowd, 
and  met  the  advancing  column  at  the  door  of  the 
Assembly,  just  as  M.  Ramond  was  in  the  tribune  dis- 
cussing Vergniaud's  proposition.  While  the  head  of 
the  column  was  awaiting  the  issue  of  this  discussion, 
the  rank  and  file  were  constantly  advancing.     The 


190  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

passage  became  so  thronged  that  people  were  in 
danger  of  stifling.  Part  of  them  withdrew  from  the 
crowd  and  went  into  the  garden  of  the  Capuchin  con- 
vent, where  they  amused  themselves  by  planting  the 
Liberty  tree  in  the  classic  ground  of  monkish  igno- 
rance and  idleness,  as  was  said  in  those  days.  The 
remainder,  which  was  in  front  of  the  door  and  the 
grating  of  the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants,  became  exas- 
perated. The  sight  of  the  glittering  bayonets,  and 
the  cannon  placed  in  front  of  this  grating,  reused 
them  to  fury. 

Meanwhile,  a  letter  from  Santerre  reached  the  pres- 
ident of  the  National  Assembly :  "  Gentlemen,"  said 
he,  "  I  have  received  a  letter  from  the  commandant 
of  the  National  Guard,  which  announces  that  the 
gathering  amounts  to  eight  thousand  men,  and  that 
they  demand  admission  to  the  bar  of  the  chamber."  — 
"  Since  there  are  eight  thousand  of  them,"  cried  a 
deputy,  "  and  since  we  are  only  seven  hundred  and 
forty-five,  I  move  that  we  adjourn  the  session  and  go 
away." 

Santerre's  letter  is  thus  expressed :  "  Mr.  President, 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Antoine  are  cele- 
brating to-day  the  anniversary  of  the  oath  of  the  Jeu 
de  Paume.  They  have  been  calumniated  before  you; 
they  ask  to  be  admitted  to  the  bar ;  they  will  con- 
found their  cowardly  detractors  for  the  second  time, 
and  prove  that  they  are  still  the  men  of  July  14." 
It  was  applauded  by  a  large  number  of  the  Assembly. 
On  the  other  side  murmurs  rose  against  it.   M.  Ramond 


THE  MOBNING   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        191 

went  on  with  his  speech :  "  Eight  thousand  men,  they 
say,  are  awaiting  your  decision.  You  owe  it  to  twenty- 
five  millions  of  other  men  who  await  it  with  no  less 
interest.  .  .  .  Certainly,  I  shall  never  fear  to  see  the 
citizens  of  Paris  in  our  midst,  nor  the  entire  French 
people  around  us.  No  one  could  behold  with  greater 
pleasure  than  I  the  weapons  which  are  a  terror  to  the 
enemies  of  liberty ;  but  the  law  and  the  authorities 
have  spoken.  Let  the  petitioners,  therefore,  lay  down 
at  the  entrance  of  the  sanctuary  the  arms  they  are 
forbidden  to  bear  within  it.  You  ought  to  insist  on 
this.     They  ought  to  obey." 

M.  Ramond's  courage  did  not  last  long.  Passing 
to  Vergniaud's  proposal  to  send  sixty  members  of  the 
Assembly  to  the  Tuileries,  he  said :  "  I  applaud  the 
motive  which  prompted  this  proposition.  But,  con- 
vinced that  there  is  nothing  to  be  feared  by  any  per- 
son from  the  citizens  of  Paris,  I  regard  the  motion  as 
insulting  to  them." 

Meanwhile,  the  noise  at  the  door  redoubles ;  the 
petitioners  are  growing  impatient.  Guadet  rises  to 
demand  that  they  shall  come  in  with  their  arms.  It 
is  plain  that  the  Gironde  has  taken  the  riot  under  its 
patronage.  After  some  disorderly  and  violent  debate, 
it  is  resolved  that  the  president  shall  put  the  ques- 
tion :  Are  the  petitioners  to  be  admitted  to  the  bar  ? 
They  do  not  yet  decide  this  other :  Shall  the  armed 
citizens  defile  before  the  Assembly  after  they  have 
been  heard?  The  first  question  is  answered  in  the 
affirmative.      The   delegates  of  the   crowd  are   ad- 


192  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

mitted  to  the  bar.     They  make  their  entry  into  the 
Assembly  between  one  and  two  in  the  afternoon. 

Their  orator  is  a  person  named  Huguenin,  who  will 
preside  a  few  weeks  later  at  the  Council  of  the  Com- 
mune during  the  September  massacres.  In  his 
declamatory  harangue  he  includes  every  tirade, 
threat,  and  insult  current  in  the  streets.  "We 
demand,"  said  he,  "that  you  should  find  out  why 
our  armies  are  inactive.  If  the  executive  power 
is  the  cause,  let  it  be  abolished.  The  blood  of  pat- 
riots must  not  flow  to  satisfy  the  pride  and  ambi- 
tion of  the  perfidious  palace  of  the  Tuileries."  Here 
the  galleries  burst  into  enthusiastic  applause.  The 
orator  goes  on :  "  We  complain  of  the  delays  of  the 
Superior  National  Court.  Why  is  it  so  slow  in 
bringing  down  the  sword  of  the  law  upon  the  heads 
of  the  guilty?  .  .  .  Do  the  enemies  of  the  country 
imagine  that  the  men  of  July  14  are  sleeping?  If 
they  appear  to  be  so,  their  awakening  will  be  terrible. 
.  .  .  There  is  no  time  to  dissimulate;  the  hour  is 
come,  blood  will  flow,  and  the  tree  of  Liberty  we  are 
about  to  plant  will  flourish  in  peace."  The  applause 
from  the  galleries  redoubles.  Huguenin  excites 
himself  to  fury :  "  The  image  of  the  countiy,"  he 
shouts,  "is  the  sole  divinity  which  it  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  adore.  Ought  this  divinity,  so  dear  to 
Frenchmen,  to  find  in  its  own  temple  those  who  rebel 
against  its  worship  ?  Are  there  any  such  ?  Let  them 
show  themselves,  these  friends  of  arbitrary  power;  let 
them  make  themselves  known  !      This  is  not  their 


THE  MORNING   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        193 

place !  Let  them  depart  from  the  land  of  liberty ! 
Let  them  go  to  Coblentz  and  rejoin  the  Emigres.  There, 
their  hearts  will  expand,  they  will  distil  their  venom, 
they  will  machinate,  they  will  conspire  against  their 
country."  The  orator  concludes  by  demanding  that 
the  armed  citizens  shall  be  passed  in  review  by  the 
Assembly.  It  was  in  vain  that  Stanislas  de  Girardin 
cries,  "Do  the  laws  exist  no  longer,  then?"  The 
Assembly  capitulates.  Armed  citizens  are  intro- 
duced. Twenty  thousand  men  are  about  to  pass 
through  the  session  hall.  The  march  is  opened  by 
a  dozen  musicians,  who  stop  in  front  of  the  president's 
armchair.  Then  the  two  leaders  of  the  manifesta- 
tion make  their  appearance  :  Santerre,  king  of  the 
fish  markets,  idol  of  the  faubourgs,  and  Saint-Hu- 
ruge,  the  deserter  from  the  aristocracy,  the  marquis 
demagogue ;  Saint-Huruge,  cast  into  the  Bastille  for 
his  debts  and  scandalous  behavior,  and  liberated  by 
the  Revolution ;  Saint-Huruge,  the  man  of  gigantic 
stature  and  the  strength  of  a  Hercules,  who  is  the 
rioter  par  excellence,  and  whose  stentorian  voice  rises 
above  the  bellowing  of  the  crowd. 

The  spectators  in  the  galleries  tremble  with  joy ; 
they  stamp  on  perceiving  both  Santerre  and  Saint- 
Huruge,  sabre  in  hand  and  pistols  at  the  belt.  The 
band  plays  the  Ca  ira,  the  national  hymn  of  the 
red  caps.  Is  this  an  orgy,  a  masquerade  ?  Look  at 
these  rags,  these  bizarre  costumes,  these  butcher-boys 
brandishing  their  knives,  these  tattered  women,  these 
drunken  harlots  who  dance  and  shout;  inhale  this 


194  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

odor  of  wine  and  eau-de-vie ;  behold  the  ensigns,  the 
banners  of  insurrection,  the  ambulating  trophies,  the 
stone  table  on  which  are  inscribed  the  Rights  of 
Man ;  the  placards  wherein  one  reads  :  "  Down  with 
the  veto ! "  "  The  people  are  tired  of  suffering ! " 
"Liberty  or  Death!"  "Tremble,  tyrant!";  the 
gibbet  from  which  hangs  a  doll  representing  Marie 
Antoinette ;  the  ragged  breeches  surmounting  the 
fashionable  motto :  "  Live  the  Sans-Culottes  ! " ;  the 
bleeding  heart  set  upon  a  pike,  with  the  inscription, 
"  Heart  of  an  aristocrat ! "  The  procession,  which 
began  about  two  in  the  afternoon,  is  not  over  until 
nearly  four  o'clock.  At  this  time  Santerre  repairs 
to  the  bar,  where  he  says :  "  The  citizens  of  the 
Faubourg  Saint-Antoine  came  here  to  express  to  you 
their  ardent  wishes  for  the  welfare  of  the  country. 
They  beg  you  to  accept  this  flag  in  gratitude  for  the 
good  will  you  have  shown  towards  them."  The 
president  responds:  "The  National  Assembly  re- 
ceives your  offering;  it  invites  you  to  continue  to 
march  under  the  protection  of  the  law,  the  safeguard 
of  the  country."  And  then,  heedless  of  the  dangers 
the  King  was  about  to  incur,  he  adjourns  the  session 
at  half-past  four  in  the  afternoon. 

What  is  going  to  happen?  Will  the  armed  citi- 
zens return  peaceably  to  their  homes  ?  Or,  not  con- 
tent with  their  promenade  to  the  Assembly,  will  they 
make  another  to  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries  ?  What 
preparations  have  been  made  for  its  defence  ?  Ten 
battalions  line  the  terrace  facing  the  palace.     Two 


THE  MORNING   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        195 

others  are  on  the  terrace  at  the  water  side,  four  on 
the  side  of  the  Carrousel.  There  are  two  companies 
of  gendarmes  before  the  door  of  the  Royal  Court ; 
four  on  the  Place  Louis  XVI.,  to  guard  the  passage 
of  the  Orangery,  opposite  rue  Saint-Florentin.  Here, 
there  might  have  been  serious  means  of  defence. 
But  Louis  XVI.  is  a  sovereign  who  does  not  defend 
himself.  Two  municipal  officers,  MM.  Boucher- 
Saint-Sauveur  and  Mouchet,  had  just  approached 
him  :  "  My  colleagues  and  myself,"  said  M.  Mouchet 
to  him,  "  have  observed  with  pain  that  the  Tuileries 
were  closed  the  very  instant  the  cortege  made  its 
appearance.  The  people,  crowded  into  the  passage  of 
the  Feuillants,  were  all  the  more  dissatisfied  because 
they  could  see  through  the  wicket  that  there  were 
persons  in  the  garden.  We  ourselves.  Sire,  were 
very  much  affected  at  seeing  cannon  pointed  at  the 
people.  It  is  urgent  that  Your  Majesty  should  order 
the  gates  of  the  Tuileries  to  be  opened." 

After  hesitating  slightly,  Louis  XVI.  ended  by 
replying :  "  I  consent  that  the  door  of  the  Feuillants 
shall  be  opened ;  but  on  condition  that  you  make  the 
procession  march  across  the  length  of  the  terrace  and 
go  out  by  the  courtyard  gate  of  the  Riding  School, 
without  descending  into  the  garden." 

This  was  one  of  the  King's  illusions.  While  he 
was  parleying  with  the  two  municipal  officers  the 
armed  citizens  had  passed  in  review  before  the  As- 
sembly. They  had  just  left  the  session  hall  by  a 
door  leading  into  the  courtyard.     Once  in  this  court- 


196  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

yard,  the  intervention  of  some  municipal  officers 
caused  the  entrance  known  as  the  Dauphin's  door, 
opposite  the  street  of  the  same  name,  to  be  opened  for 
them.  It  was  by  this  that  they  entered  the  Tuileries 
Garden,  while  it  was  the  wish  of  Louis  XVI.  that 
they  should  pass  out  through  it  from  the  terrace  of 
the  Feuillants.  There  they  are,  then,  in  the  garden, 
having  made  an  iiTuption  there  instead  of  continuing 
their  route  through  rue  Saint-Honor^.  Here  they 
come  along  the  terrace  in  front  of  the  palace,  on 
which  several  battalions  of  the  National  Guard  are 
stationed.  The  crowd  passes  quickly  before  these 
battalions.  Some  of  the  guards  unfix  their  bayonets ; 
others  present  arms,  as  if  to  do  honor  to  the  riot. 
Having  passed  through  the  garden,  the  columns  of 
the  people  go  out  through  the  gate  before  the  Pont- 
Royal.  They  pass  up  the  quay,  and  through  the 
Louvre  wickets,  and  so  into  the  Place  Carrousel, 
which  is  cut  up  by  a  multitude  of  streets,  a  sort  of 
covered  ways  very  suitable  to  facilitate  the  attack. 

Certain  municipal  officers  make  some  slight  efforts 
to  quiet  the  assailants ;  others,  on  the  contrary,  do 
what  they  can  to  embolden  and  excite  them.  The 
four  battalions  at  the  entrance  of  the  Carrousel,  and 
the  two  companies  of  gendarmes  posted  before  the 
door  of  the  Royal  Court,  make  no  resistance.  The 
rioters,  who  have  invaded  the  Carrousel,  find  their 
march  obstructed  by  the  closing  of  this  door.  San- 
terre  and  Saint-Huruge,  who  had  been  the  last  to 
leave  the  National  Assembly,  make  their  appearance, 


THE  MORNING   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.       197 

raging  with  anger.  They  rail  at  the  people  for  not 
having  penetrated  into  the  palace.  "  That  is  all  we 
came  for,"  say  they.  Santerre,  before  the  door  of 
the  Royal  Court  —  one  of  the  three  courtyards  in 
front  of  the  palace,  opposite  the  Carrousel  —  sum- 
mons his  cannoneers.  "I  am  going,"  he  cries,  "to 
open  the  doors  with  cannon-balls." 

Some  royalist  officers  of  the  National  Guard  seek 
vainly  to  defend  the  palace.  No  one  heeds  them. 
The  door  of  the  Royal  Court  opens  its  two  leaves. 
The  crowd  presses  through.  No  more  dike  to  the 
torrent;  the  gendarmes  set  their  caps  on  the  ends 
of  their  sabres,  and  cry :  "  Live  the  nation !  "  The 
thing  is  done ;  the  palace  is  invaded. 


XIX. 

THE  INVASION   OP  THE  TUILEEIES. 

IT  is  nearly  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  in- 
vasion of  the  Tuileries  is  beginning.  Let  us 
glance  at  the  palace  and  get  a  notion  of  the  apart- 
ments through  which  the  crowd  are  about  to  rush. 
On  approaching  it  by  way  of  the  Carrousel,  one  comes 
first  to  three  courtyards :  that  of  the  Princes,  in  front 
of  the  Pavilion  of  Flora  ;  the  Royal  Court,  before  the 
Pavilion  of  the  Horloge ;  and  the  Swiss  Court,  before 
the  Pavilion  of  Marsan.  The  assailants  enter  by  the 
Royal  Court,  pass  into  the  palace  through  the  vesti- 
bule of  the  Horloge  Pavilion,  and  climb  the  great 
staircase.  On  the  left  of  this  are  the  large  apart- 
ments of  the  first  story :  — 

1.  The  Hall  of  the   Hundred  Swiss  (the   future 
Hall  of  the  Marshals)  ; 

2.  The  Hall  of  the  Guards  (the  future  Hall  of  the 
First  Consul) ; 

3.  The   King's   Antechamber   (the   future   Salon 
d'ApoUon) ; 

4.  The    State    Bedchamber   (the   future  Throne- 
room)  ; 

198 


THE  INVASION  OF  THE  TUILERIES.  199 

6.   The  King's  Grand  Cabinet   (called  later  the 
Salon  of  Louis  XIV.)  ; 
6.   The  Gallery  of  Diana. 

There  are  a  battalion  and  two  companies  of  gen- 
darmes in  the  palace,  as  well  as  the  guards  then  on 
duty  and  those  they  had  relieved.  But  as  no  orders 
are  given  to  these  troops,  they  either  break  their 
ranks  or  fraternize  with  the  enemy.  No  obstacle,  no 
resistance,  is  offered,  and  nobody  defends  the  apart- 
ments. The  assailants,  who  have  taken  a  cannon  as 
far  as  the  first  story,  enter  the  Hall  of  the  Hundred 
Swiss,  whose  doors  are  neither  locked  nor  barricaded. 
They  penetrate  into  the  Hall  of  the  Guards  with  the 
same  ease.  But  when  they  try  to  make  their  way 
into  the  (Eil-de-Boeuf,  or  King's  Antechamber,  the 
locked  door  of  this  apartment  arrests  their  progress. 
This  exasperates  them,  and  one  of  the  panels  is  soon 
broken. 

Where  is  Louis  XVI.  when  the  invasion  begins  ? 
In  his  bedroom  with  his  family.  It  communicates 
with  the  Grand  Cabinet,  and  has  windows  command- 
ing a  view  of  the  garden.  M.  Acloque,  chief  of  the 
second  legion  of  the  National  Guard,  and  a  faithful 
royalist,  hastens  to  the  King  by  way  of  the  little 
staircase  leading  from  the  Princes'  Court  to  the  royal 
chamber,  in  order  to  tell  him  what  has  happened.  He 
finds  the  door  locked;  he  knocks,  gives  his  name, 
urgently  demands  admittance,  and  obtains  it.  He 
advises  Louis  XVI.  to  show  himself  to  the  people. 


200  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

The  King,  whom  no  peril  has  ever  frightened,  does  not 
hesitate  to  follow  this  advice.  The  Queen  wishes  to 
accompany  her  husband ;  but  she  is  opposed  in  this 
and  forcibly  drawn  into  the  Dauphin's  chamber,  which 
is  near  that  of  Louis  XVI.  Happier  than  the  Queen, 
—  these  are  her  own  words,  —  Madame  Elisabeth  finds 
nobody  to  tear  her  from  the  King.  She  takes  hold  of 
the  skirts  of  her  brother's  coat.  Nothing  could 
separate  them. 

Louis  XVI.  passes  into  the  Great  Cabinet,  thence 
into  the  State  Bedchamber,  and  through  it  into  the 
(Eil-de-Boeuf,  where  he  will  presently  receive  the 
crowd.  He  is  surrounded  at  this  moment  by  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth,  three  of  his  ministers  (MM.  de 
Beaulieu,  de  Lajard,  and  Terrier  de  Montciel),  the 
old  Marshal  de  Mouchy,  Chevalier  de  Canolle,  M. 
d'Hervilly,  M.  Guinguerlet,  lieutenant-colonel  of  the 
unmounted  gendarmes,  and  M.  de  Vainfrais,  also  an 
officer  of  gendarmes.  Some  grenadiers  of  the  National 
Guard  afterwards  arrive  through  the  Great  Cabinet 
and  the  State  Bedchamber.  "  Come  here  !  four  grena- 
diers of  the  National  Guard !  "  cries  the  King.  One 
of  them  says,  "Sire,  do  not  be  afraid."  —  "I  am  not 
afraid,"  replies  the  King;  "put  your  hand  on  my 
heart ;  it  is  pure  and  tranquil."  And  taking  the  gren- 
adier's hand  he  presses  it  forcibly  against  his  breast. 
The  grenadier  is  a  tailor  named  Jean  Lalanne.  Later, 
under  the  Terror,  by  a  decree  of  the  12th  Messidor, 
Year  II.,  he  will  be  condemned  to  death  for  having — 
so  runs  the  sentence  —  "  displayed  the  character  of  a 


THE  INVASION   OF  TEE  TUILERIES.  201 

cringing  valet  of  the  tyrant,  in  boasting  before  sev- 
eral citizens  that  Capet,  taking  his  hand  and  laying  it 
on  his  heart,  had  said  to  him,  '  Feel,  my  friend, 
whether  it  palpitates.'  " 

"  Gentlemen,  save  the  King ! "  cries  Madame  Elisa- 
beth. Meanwhile,  the  crowd  is  still  in  the  next 
apartment,  the  Hall  of  the  Guards.  They  are  batter- 
ing away  with  hatchets  and  gun-stocks  at  the  door 
which  opens  into  the  King's  Antechamber.  Nothing 
but  a  partition  separates  Louis  XVI.  from  the  assail- 
ants. He  orders  the  door  to  be  opened.  The  crowd 
rush  in.  "  Here  I  am,"  says  Louis  XVI.  calmly ;  "  I 
have  never  deviated  from  the  Constitution." 

"  Citizens,"  says  Acloque,  "  recognize  your  King 
and  respect  him;  the  law  commands  you  to  do  so. 
We  will  all  perish  rather  than  suffer  him  to  receive 
the  slightest  harm."  M.  de  Canolle  cries :  "  Long  live 
the  nation !  Long  live  the  King ! "  This  cry  is  not  re- 
peated. Some  one  begs  Madame  Elisabeth  to  retire. 
"  I  will  not  leave  the  King,"  she  replies,  "  I  will  not 
leave  him."  Those  who  surround  Louis  XVI.  make 
a  rampart  for  him  of  their  bodies.  The  crowd  be- 
comes immense.  It  is  proposed  to  the  King  that  he 
stand  on  a  bench  in  the  embrasure  of  the  central 
window,  from  which  there  is  a  view  of  the  court- 
yard. Other  benches  and  a  table  are  placed  in  front 
of  him.  Madame  Elisabeth  takes  a  bench  in  the 
next  window  with  M.  de  Marsilly.  The  hall  is  full. 
Groans,  atrocious  threats,  and  gross  insults  resound 
on  every  side.     Some  one  shouts :  "  Down  with  the 


202  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

veto !  To  the  devil  with  the  veto !  Recall  the  pa- 
triot ministers !  Let  him  sign,  or  we  will  not  go  out 
of  here ! "  The  butcher  Legendre  comes  forward.  He 
asks  permission  to  speak.  Silence  is  obtained,  and, 
addressing  the  King,  he  says :  "  Monsieur."  At  this 
unusual  title,  Louis  XVI.  make  a  gesture  of  surprise. 
"  Yes,  Monsieur,"  goes  on  Legendre,  "  listen  to  us ;  it 
is  your  duty  to  listen  to  us.  .  .  .  You  are  a  traitor. 
You  have  always  deceived  us,  and  you  deceive  us 
still;  the  measure  is  full,  and  the  people  are  tired 
of  being  made  your  laughing-stock."  The  insolent 
butcher,  who  calls  himself  the  agent  of  the  people, 
then  reads  a  pretended  petition  which  is  a  mere  tissue 
of  recriminations  and  threats.  Louis  XVI.  listens 
with  imperturbable  sang-froid.  He  answers  simply : 
"I  will  do  what  the  Constitution  and  the  decrees 
ordain  that  I  shall  do."  The  noise  begins  anew.  It 
is  a  rain,  a  hail  of  insults. 

Some  individuals  mistake  Madame  Elisabeth  for 
Marie  Antoinette.  Her  equerry,  M.  de  Saint-Par- 
doux,  throws  himself  between  her  and  the  furious 
wretches,  who  cr}"- :  "  Ah !  there  is  the  Austrian 
woman ;  we  must  have  the  Austrian  ! "  and  unde- 
ceives them  by  naming  her.  —  "Why  did  you  not 
allow  them  to  believe  I  am  the  Queen  ?  "  says  the 
courageous  Princess;  "perhaps  you  might  have 
averted  a  greater  crime."  And,  putting  aside  a  bay- 
onet which  almost  touches  her  breast,  "  Take  care, 
Monsieur,"  she  says  gently,  "you  might  hurt  some- 
body, and  I  am  sure  you  would  be  sorry  to  do  that." 


THE  INVASION  OF  THE  TUILERIES.         203 

The  shouts  redouble.  The  confusion  becomes  ter- 
rible. It  is  with  great  difi&culty  that  some  grenadiers 
of  the  National  Guard  defend  the  embrasure  of  the 
window  where  Louis  XVI.  still  stands  immovable  on 
his  bench.  Mingled  with  the  crowd  there  are  inof- 
fensive persons,  who  have  come  merely  out  of  curi- 
osity, and  even  honest  men  who  sincerely  pity  the 
King.  But  there  are  tigers  and  assassins  as  well. 
One  of  them,  armed  with  a  club  ending  in  a  sword- 
blade,  tries  to  thrust  it  into  the  King's  heart.  The 
grenadiers  parry  the  blow  with  their  bayonets.  A 
market  porter  struggles  long  to  reach  Louis  XVI., 
against  whom  he  brandishes  a  sabre.  Several  times 
the  wretched  monarch  seeks  to  address  the  crowd. 
His  voice  is  lost  in  the  uproar.  A  municipal  official, 
M.  Mouchet,  hoisting  himself  on  the  shoulders  of 
two  persons,  demands  by  voice  and  gesture  a  mo- 
ment's silence  for  the  King  and  for  himself.  Vain 
efforts.  The  vociferations  of  the  crowd  only  increase. 
Here  comes  a  long  pole  on  the  end  of  which  is  a 
Phrygian  cap,  a  bonnet  rouge.  The  pole  is  inclined 
towards  M.  Mouchet.  M.  Mouchet  takes  the  cap 
and  presents  it  to  the  King,  who,  to  please  the  crowd, 
puts  it  on  his  head. 

Is  it  possible?  That  man  on  a  bench,  with  the 
ignoble  cap  of  a  galley-slave  on  his  head,  surrounded 
by  a  drunken  and  tattered  rabble  who  vomit  filthy 
language,  that  man  the  King  of  France  and  Navarre, 
the  most  Christian  King,  Louis  XVI.?  Go  back  to 
the   day   of  the   coronation,  June   11,  1775.     It  is 


204  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

just  seventeen  years  and  nine  days  ago !  Do  you 
remember  the  Cathedral  of  Rheinis,  luminous,  glitter- 
ing ;  the  cardinals,  ministers,  and  marshals  of  France, 
the  red  ribbons,  the  blue  ribbons,  the  lay  peers  with 
their  vests  of  cloth-of-gold,  their  violet  ducal  mantles 
lined  with  ermine ;  the  clerical  peers  with  cope  and 
cross?  Do  you  remember  the  King  taking  Charle- 
magne's' sword  in  his  hand,  and  then  prostrating  him- 
self before  the  altar  on  a  great  kneeling-cushion  of 
velvet  sown  with  golden  lilies?  Do  you  see  him 
vested  by  the  grand-chamberlain  with  the  tunic,  the 
dalmatica,  and  the  ermine-lined  mantle  which  repre- 
sent the  vestments  of  a  sub-deacon,  deacon,  and  priest, 
because  the  King  is  not  merely  a  sovereign,  but  a  pon- 
tiff ?  Do  you  see  him  seizing  the  royal  sceptre,  that 
golden  sceptre  set  with  oriental  pearls,  and  carvings 
representing  the  great  Carlovingian  Emperor  on  a 
throne  adorned  with  lions  and  eagles  ?  Do  you  re- 
member the  pealing  of  the  bells,  the  chords  of  the 
organ,  the  blare  of  trumpets,  the  clouds  of  incense, 
the  birds  flying  in  the  nave  ? 

And  now,  instead  of  the  coronation  the  pillory; 
instead  of  the  crown  the  hideous  red  cap ;  instead  of 
hymns  and  murmurs  of  admiration  and  respect,  — 
insults,  the  buffoonery  of  the  fish-market,  shouts  of 
contempt  and  hatred,  threats  of  murder.  Ah!  the 
time  is  not  far  distant  when  a  Conventionist  will 
break  the  vial  containing  the  sacred  oil  on  the  pave- 
ment of  the  Abbey  of  Saint  Remi.  How  slippery  is 
the  swift  descent,  the  fatal  descent  by  which  a  sov- 


THE  INVASION  OF  THE  TUILERIES.         205 

ereign  who  disarms  himself  glides  down  from  the 
heights  of  power  and  glory  to  the  depths  of  oppro- 
brium and  sorrow  !  There  he  is  !  Not  content  with 
putting  the  red  bonnet  on  his  head,  he  keeps  it  there, 
and  mumming  in  the  Jacobin  coiffure,  he  cries: 
"  Long  live  the  nation  I "  The  crowd  find  the  spec- 
tacle amusing.  A  National  Guard,  to  whom  some 
one  has  passed  a  bottle  of  wine,  offers  the  complaisant 
King  a  drink.  Perhaps  the  wine  is  poisoned.  No 
matter ;  Louis  XVI.  takes  a  glass  of  it. 

While  all  this  is  going  on,  two  deputies,  Isnard  and 
Vergniaud,  present  themselves.  "  Citizens,"  says  the 
first,  "  I  am  Isnard,  a  deputy.  If  what  you  demand 
were  at  once  granted,  it  might  be  thought  you  ex- 
torted it  by  force.  In  the  name  of  the  law  and  the 
National  Assembly,  I  ask  you  to  respect  the  consti- 
tuted authorities  and  retire.  The  National  Assembly 
will  do  justice ;  I  will  aid  thereto  with  all  my  power. 
You  shall  obtain  satisfaction ;  I  answer  for  it  with 
my  head;  but  go  away."  Vergniaud  follows  him 
with  similar  remarks.  Neither  is  listened  to.  No- 
body departs. 

It  is  six  in  the  evening.  For  two  hours,  one  man, 
exposed  to  every  insult,  has  held  his  own  against  a 
multitude.  At  last  Potion  arrives  wearing  his 
mayor's  scarf.  The  crowd  draws  back.  "  Sire,"  says 
he,  "  I  have  just  this  instant  learned  the  situation  you 
were  in."  —  "That  is  very  astonishing,"  returns  Louis 
XVI. ;  "  for  it  has  lasted  two  hours."  —  "  Sire,  truly, 
I  was  ignorant  that  there  was  trouble  at  the  palace. 


206  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTT. 

As  soon  as  I  was  informed,  I  hastened  to  your  side. 
But  you  have  nothing  to  fear ;  I  answer  for  it  that 
the  people  will  respect  you."  —  "I  fear  nothing," 
replies  the  King.  "Moreover,  I  have  not  been  in 
any  danger,  since  I  was  surrounded  by  the  National 
Guard." 

Potion,  like  Pontius  Pilate,  pretends  indifference. 
A  municipal  officer,  M.  Champion,  reminds  him  of 
his  duties,  and  says  with  firmness  :  "  Order  the  people 
to  retire ;  order  them  in  the  name  of  the  law ;  we  are 
threatened  with  great  danger,  and  you  must  speak." 
At  last  Potion  decides  to  intervene.  "Citizens,"  he 
says,  "all  you  who  are  listening  to  me,  came  to 
present  legally  your  petition  to  the  hereditary  rep- 
resentative of  the  nation,  and  you  have  done  so  with 
the  dignity  and  majesty  of  a  free  people  ;  return  now 
to  your  homes,  for  you  can  desire  nothing  further. 
Your  demand  will  doubtless  be  reiterated  by  all  the 
eighty-three  departments,  and  the  King  will  grant 
your  prayer.  Retire,  and  do  not,  by  remaining  longer, 
give  occasion  to  the  public  enemies  to  impugn  your 
worthy  intentions." 

At  fiirst  this  discourse  of  the  mayor  of  Paris  pro- 
duces but  slight  effect.  The  cries  and  threats  con- 
tinue. But,  after  a  while,  the  crowd,  worn  out  with 
shouting,  and  hungry  and  thirsty  as  well,  begin  to 
quiet  down  a  little.  The  most  excited  cry :  "  We 
are  waiting  for  an  answer  from  the  King.  Nothing 
has  been  asked  of  him  yet."  Others  say :  "  Listen 
to  the  mayor,  he  is  going  to  speak   again;  we  will 


TBE  INVASION  OF  THE  TUILERIES.  207 

hear  him."  Potion  repeats  what  he  said  before :  "  If 
you  do  not  wish  your  magistrates  to  be  unjustly 
accused,  withdraw." 

M.  Sergent,  administrator  of  police,  who  had  come 
with  the  mayor,  asked  if  any  one  has  ordered  the 
doors  leading  from  the  Grand  Cabinet  to  the  Gallery 
of  Diana  to  be  opened,  so  as  to  allow  the  crowd  to 
pass  out  by  the  small  staircase  into  the  Court  of  the 
Princes.  Louis  XVI.  overheard  this  question.  "  I 
have  had  the  apartments  opened,"  said  he ;  "  the  peo- 
ple, marching  out  on  the  gallery  side,  will  like  to  see 
them."  A  sentiment  of  curiosity  hastened  the  move- 
ments of  the  crowd.  In  order  to  go  out,  they  had 
to  pass  through  the  State  Bedchamber,  the  Grand 
Cabinet,  and  the  Gallery  of  Diana.  Sergent,  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  door,  leading  from  the  CEil-de- 
Boeuf  to  the  State  Bedchamber,  unfastens  his  scarf 
and  waving  it  over  his  head,  cries :  "  Citizens,  this  is 
the  badge  of  the  law ;  in  its  name  we  invite  you  to 
retire  and  follow  us."  Potion  says  :  "  The  people 
have  done  what  they  ought  to  do.  You  have  acted 
with  the  pride  and  dignity  of  freemen.  But  there 
has  been  enough  of  it ;  let  all  retire."  A  double  row 
of  National  Guards  is  formed,  and  the  people  pass 
between  them.  The  return  march  begins.  A  few 
recalcitrants  want  to  remain,  and  keep  up  a  cry  of 
"  Down  with  the  veto  !  Recall  the  ministers  !  "  But 
they  are  swept  on  by  the  stream,  and  follow  the  march 
like  all  the  rest.  While  they  are  going  out  through 
the  door  between  the  (Eil-de-Bceuf  and  the  State  Bed- 


208  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

chamber,  the  National  Guard  prevents  any  one  from 
entering  on  the  other  side,  through  the  door  connect- 
ing the  CEil-de-Boeuf  with  the  Hall  of  the  Guards. 

At  this  moment,  a  deputation  of  twenty-four  mem- 
bers of  the  Assembly  present  themselves.  Roused 
by  the  public  clamor  announcing  that  the  King's  life 
is  in  danger,  the  National  Assembly  has  called  an 
extraordinary  evening  session.  The  president  of  the 
deputation,  M.  Brunk,  says  to  the  King :  "  Sire,  the 
National  Assembly  sends  us  to  assure  ourselves  of 
your  situation,  to  protect  the  constitutional  liberty 
you  should  enjoy,  and  to  share  your  danger."  Louis 
XVI.  replies :  "  I  am  grateful  for  the  solicitude  of  the 
Assembly ;  I  am  undisturbed  in  the  midst  of  French- 
men." At  the  same  time.  Potion  goes  to  turn  back 
the  crowd,  who  are  constantly  ascending  the  great 
staircase,  and  who  threaten  another  invasion.  The 
sentry  at  the  doorway  of  the  GEil-de-Bceuf  is  replaced, 
and  the  crowd  ceases  to  flock  thither.  The  circle  of 
National  Guards  about  the  sovereign  is  increased. 
A  space  is  formed,  and  he  is  surrounded  by  the  depu- 
tation from  the  Assembly.  Acloque,  seeing  that  the 
tumult  is  lessening  and  the  room  no  longer  encum- 
bered by  the  crowd,  proposes  to  the  King  that  he 
should  retire,  and  Louis  XVI.  decides  to  do  so.  Sur- 
rounded by  deputies  and  National  Guards,  he  passes 
into  the  State  Bedchamber,  and  notwithstanding  the 
throng,  he  manages  to  reach  a  secret  door  at  the  right 
of  the  bed,  near  the  chimney,  which  communicates 
with  his  bedroom.  He  goes  through  this  little  door, 
and  some  one  closes  it  behind  him. 


THE  INVASION  OF  THE  TUILERIES.         209 

It  is  not  far  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
The  peril  and  humiliation  of  Louis  XVI.  have  lasted 
nearly  four  hours,  and  the  unhappy  King  is  not  yet 
at  the  end  of  his  sufferings,  for  he  does  not  know 
what  has  become  of  his  wife  and  children.  While 
these  sad  scenes  had  been  enacting  in  the  palace,  a 
furious  populace  had  been  in  incessant  commotion 
beneath  the  windows,  in  the  garden  and  the  court- 
yards. People  desiring  to  establish  communication 
between  those  down  stairs  and  those  above,  had  been 
heard  to  cry :  "  Have  they  been  struck  down  ?  Are 
they  dead  ?     Throw  us  down  their  heads ! " 

A  slender  young  man,  with  the  profile  of  a  Roman 
medal,  a  pale  complexion,  and  flashing  eyes,  was 
looking  at  all  this  from  the  upper  part  of  the  terrace 
beside  the  water.  Unable  to  comprehend  the  long- 
suffering  of  Louis  XVI.,  he  said  in  an  indignant 
tone :  "  How  could  they  have  allowed  this  rabble  to 
enter  ?  They  should  have  swept  out  four  or  five 
hundred  of  them  with  cannon,  and  the  rest  would 
have  run."  The  man  who  spoke  thus,  obscure  and 
hidden  in  the  crowd,  opposite  that  palace  where  he 
was  to  play  so  great  a  part,  was  the  "  straight^haired 
Corsican,"  the  future  Emperor  Napoleon. 


XX. 

MARIE   ANTOINETTE   ON  JUNE  TWENTIETH. 

LOUIS  XVI.  had  just  entered  his  bedchamber. 
The  crowd,  after  leaving  the  hall  of  the  CEil- 
de-Boeuf,  had  departed  through  the  State  Bedchamber, 
and  the  King's  Great  Cabinet,  called  also  the  Council 
Hall.  On  entering  this  last  apartment,  an  unex- 
pected scene  had  surprised  them.  Behind  the  large 
table  they  saw  the  Queen,  Madame  Elisabeth,  the 
Dauphin,  and  Madame  Royale. 

How  came  the  Queen  to  be  there?  What  had 
happened?  At  a  quarter  of  four,  when  Louis  XVI. 
had  left  his  room  to  go  into  the  hall  of  the  BuU's- 
Eye  and  meet  the  rioters,  Marie  Antoinette,  as  we 
have  already  said,  made  desperate  efforts  to  follow 
him.  M.  Aubier,  placing  himself  before  the  door  of 
the  King's  chamber,  prevented  the  Queen  from  going 
out.  In  vain  she  cried :  "  Let  me  pass ;  my  place  is 
beside  the  King ;  I  will  join  him-  and  perish  with  him 
if  it  must  be."  M.  Aubier,  through  devotion,  dis- 
obeyed her.  Nevertheless,  the  Queen,  whose  courage 
redoubled  her  strength,  would  have  borne  down  this 
faithful  servant  if  M.  Rougeville,  a  chevalier  of  Saint- 
Louis,  had  not  aided  him  to  block  up  the  passage. 
210 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  ON  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      211 

Imploring  Marie  Antoinette  in  the  name  of  her  own 
safety  and  that  of  the  King,  not  to  expose  herself 
needlessly  to  poniards,  and  aided  by  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  they  drew  her  almost  by  force  into 
the  chamber  of  the  Dauphin,  which  was  near  the 
King's.  MM.  de  Choiseul,  d'Haussonville,  and  de 
Saint-Priest,  assisted  by  several  grenadiers  of  the 
National  Guard,  afterwards  induced  her  to  go  with 
her  children  into  the  Grand  Cabinet  of  the  King, 
called  also  the  Council  Hall,  because  the  ministers 
were  accustomed  to  assemble  there. 

The  Princess  de  Lamballe,  the  Princess  of  Tarento, 
the  Marchioness  de  Tourzel,  the  Duchesses  de  Luynes, 
de  Duras,  de  Maille,  the  Marchioness  de  Laroche- 
Aymon,  Madame  de  Soucy,  the  Baroness  de  Mackau, 
the  Countess  de  Ginestous,  remained  with  the  Queen. 
So  also  did  the  Minister  Chambonas,  the  Duke  de 
Choiseul,  Counts  d'Haussonville  and  de  Montmorin, 
Viscount  de  Saint-Priest,  Marquis  de  Champcenetz, 
and  General  de  Wittenghoff,  commander  of  the  17th 
military  division.  The  Queen  and  her  children  occu- 
pied the  embrasure  of  a  window,  and  the  large  and 
heavy  table  used  by  the  ministerial  council  was  placed 
in  front  of  them  as  a  sort  of  barricade. 

Meanwhile,  Marie  Antoinette's  apartments  and  her 
bedroom  on  the  ground-floor  were  invaded.  Some 
National  Guards  tried  vainly  to  defend  them.  "  You 
are  cutting  your  own  throats  !  "  shouted  the  people. 
Overwhelmed  by  numbers,  they  saw  the  door  of  the 
first  apartment  broken  down  by  hatchets.      It  con- 


212  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

tained  the  beds  of  the  Queen's  servants,  ranged 
behind  screens.  Afterwards  they  saw  the  invaders 
go  into  Marie  Antoinette's  sleeping-room,  tear  the 
clothes  off  her  bed,  and  loll  upon  it,  crying  as  they 
did  so,  "  We  will  have  the  Austrian  woman,  dead  or 
alive ! " 

The  Queen,  however,  remained  in  the  Council  Hall, 
where  she  could  hear  the  echo  of  the  cries  resounding 
in  that  of  the  CEil-de-Boeuf,  where  Louis  XVI.  was, 
and  from  which  she  was  separated  only  by  the  State 
Bedchamber.  Toward  seven  in  the  evening  she  beheld 
Madame  Elisabeth,  who,  after  heroically  sharing  the 
dangers  of  the  King,  had  now  found  means  to  rejoin 
her.  "  The  deputies  who  came  to  us,"  she  wrote  to 
Madame  de  Raigecourt,  July  3,  "had  come  out  of 
good  will.  A  veritable  deputation  arrived  and  per- 
suaded the  King  to  go  back  to  his  own  apartments. 
As  I  was  told  this,  and  as  I  was  unwilling  to  be  left 
in  the  crowd,  I  went  away  about  an  hour  before  he 
did,  and  rejoined  the  Queen :  you  can  imagine  with 
what  pleasure  I  embraced  her."  In  their  perils, 
therefore,  Madame  Elisabeth  was  near  both  Louis 
XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette. 

After  having  voluntarily  exposed  herself  to  all  the 
anguish  of  the  invasion  of  the  CEil-de-Boeuf,  the  cour- 
ageous Princess  was  with  the  Queeu  in  the  Council 
Hall,  when  the  crowd,  coming  through  the  State  Bed- 
chamber, arrived  there.  The  horde  marched  through 
it,  carrying  their  barbarous  inscriptions  like  so  many 
ferocious  standards.     "  One  of  these,"  says  Madame 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  ON  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      213 

Campan  in  her  Memoirs,  "  represented  a  gibbet  from 
which  an  ugly  doll  was  hanging ;  below  it  was  writ- 
ten: 'Marie  Antoinette  to  the  lamp-post!'  Another 
was  a  plank  to  which  a  bullock's  heart  had  been 
fastened,  surrounded  by  the  words :  '  Heart  of  Louis 
XVI.'  Finally,  a  third  presented  a  pair  of  bullock's 
horns  with  an  indecent  motto."  Some  royalist 
grenadiers  belonging  to  the  battalion  called  the 
FillesSaint-Thomas,  were  near  the  council-table  and 
protected  the  Queen.  Marie  Antoinette  was  stand- 
ing, and  held  her  daughter's  hand.  The  Dauphin 
sat  on  the  table  in  front  of  her.  At  the  moment 
when  the  march  began,  a  woman  threw  a  red  cap 
on  this  table  and  cried  out  that  it  must  be  placed  on 
the  Queen's  head.  M.  de  Wittenghoff,  his  hand 
trembling  with  indignation,  took  the  cap  and  after 
holding  it  for  a  moment  over  Marie  Antoinette's 
head,  put  it  back  on  the  table.  Then  a  cry  was 
raised :  "  The  red  cap  for  the  Prince  Royal !  Tri- 
colored  ribbons  for  little  Veto ! "  Ribbons  were 
thrown  down  beside  the  Phrygian  cap.  Some  one 
shouted :  "  If  you  love  the  nation,  set  the  red  cap 
on  your  son's  head."  The  Queen  made  an  affirma- 
tive sign,  and  the  revolutionary  coiffure  was  set  on 
the  child's  fair  head. 

What  humiliations  were  these  for  the  unhappy 
mother !  What  anguish  for  so  haughty,  so  mag- 
nanimous a  queen !  The  galley-slave's  cap  has 
touched  the  head  of  the  daughter  of  Caesars,  and 
now  soils  the  forehead  of  her  son  !     The  slang  of  the 


214  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  BOTALTT. 

fish-markets  resounds  beneath  the  venerable  arches 
of  the  palace.  How  bitterly  the  unfortunate  sover- 
eign expiates  her  former  triumphs !  Where  are  the 
ovations  and  the  apotheoses,  the  carriages  of  gold  and 
crystal,  the  solemn  entries  into  the  city  in  its  gala 
dress,  to  the  sound  of  bells  and  trumpets?  What 
trace  remains  of  those  brilliant  days  when,  more 
goddess  than  woman,  the  Queen  of  France  and  Na- 
varre appeared  through  a  cloud  of  incense,  in  the 
midst  of  flowers  and  light  ?  This  good  and  beauti- 
ful sovereign,  whose  least  smile,  or  glance,  or  nod, 
had  been  regarded  as  a  precious  recompense,  a  su- 
preme favor  by  the  noble  lords  and  ladies  who  bent 
respectfully  before  her,  behold  how  she  is  treated 
now  !  Consider  the  costumes  and  the  language  of  her 
new  courtiers !  And  yet,  Marie  Antoinette  is  majestic 
still.  Even  in  this  horrible  scene,  in  presence  of 
these  drunken  women  and  ragged  suburbans,  sho 
does  not  lose  that  gift  of  pleasing  which  is  her  special 
dower.  At  a  distance  they  curse  her ;  but  when  they 
come  near  they  are  subjugated  by  her  spell.  Her 
most  ferocious  enemies  are  touched  in  their  own 
despite.  A  young  girl  had  just  called  her  '''' Autrichi- 
enne^  "  You  call  me  an  Austrian  woman,"  replied 
she,  "  but  I  am  the  wife  of  the  King  of  France,  I  am 
the  mother  of  the  Dauphin ;  I  am  a  Frenchwoman  by 
my  sentiments  as  wife  and  mother.  I  shall  never 
again  see  the  land  where  I  was  born.  I  can  be  happy 
or  unhappy  nowhere  but  in  France.  I  was  happy 
when  you  loved  me."     Confused  by  this  gentle  re- 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  ON  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      215 

proach,  the  young  girl  softened.  "  Pardon  me,"  she 
said ;  "  it  was  because  I  did  not  know  you ;  I  see  very 
well  now  that  you  are  not  wicked."  A  woman, 
passing,  stopped  before  the  Queen  and  began  to  sob. 
"  What  is  the  matter  with  her  ? "  asked  Santerre ; 
"  what  is  she  crying  about  ?  "  And  he  shook  her  by 
the  arm,  saying :  "  Make  her  pass  on,  she  is  drunk." 
Even  Santerre  himself  felt  Marie  Antoinette's  in- 
fluence. "Madame,"  he  said  to  her,  "the  people 
wish  you  no  harm.  Your  friends  deceive  you ;  you 
have  nothing  to  fear,  and  I  am  going  to  prove  it  by 
serving  as  your  shield."  It  was  he  who  took  pity  on 
the  Dauphin  whom  the  heat  was  stifling,  and  said: 
"  Take  the  red  cap  off  the  child ;  he  is  too  hot." 
He  too,  it  was,  that  hastened  the  march  of  the  pro- 
cession and  pointed  out  to  the  people  the  different 
members  of  the  royal  family  by  name,  saying :  "  This 
is  the  Queen,  this  is  her  son,  this  her  daughter,  this 
Madame  Elisabeth." 

At  last  the  crowd  is  gone.  The  hall  is  empty.  It 
is  eight  o'clock.  The  Queen  and  her  children  enter 
the  King's  chamber.  Louis  XVI.,  who  finds  them 
once  more  after  so  many  perils  and  emotions,  covers 
them  with  kisses.  In  the  midst  of  this  pathetic  scene 
some  deputies  arrive.  Marie  Antoinette  shows  them 
the  traces  of  violence  which  the  people  have  left 
behind  them, — locks  broken,  hinges  forced  off,  wain- 
scoting burst  through,  furniture  ruined.  She  speaks 
of  the  dangers  that  have  threatened  the  King  and  the 
insults  offered  to  herself.     Perceiving  that  Merlin  de 


216  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

Thionville,  an  ardent  Jacobin,  has  tears  in  his  eyes, 
she  says :  "  You  are  weeping  to  see  the  King  and  his 
family  so  cruelly  treated  by  people  whom  he  has 
always  desired  to  render  happy."  The  republican 
answered :  "  Yes,  Madame,  I  weep,  but  it  is  for  the 
misfortunes  of  the  mother  of  a  family,  not  for  the 
King  and  Queen;  I  hate  kings  and  queens."  A 
deputy  accosted  Marie  Antoinette,  saying  in  a  fa- 
miliar tone :  "  You  were  very  much  afraid,  Madame, 
you  must  admit."  "  No,  Monsieur,"  she  replied,  "  I 
was  not  at  all  afraid ;  but  I  suffered  much  in  being 
separated  from  the  King  at  a  moment  when  his  life 
was  in  danger.  At  least,  I  had  the  consolation  of 
being  with  my  children  and  performing  one  of  my 
duties."  "  Without  pretending  to  excuse  everything, 
agree,  Madame,  that  the  people  showed  themselves 
very  good-natured."  "  The  King  and  I,  Monsieur, 
are  convinced  of  the  natural  goodness  of  the  people  ; 
it  is  only  when  they  are  misled  that  they  are  wicked." 
—  "  How  old  is  Mademoiselle  ?  "  went  on  the  deputy, 
pointing  to  Madame  Royale. — "She  is  at  that  age. 
Monsieur,  when  one  feels  only  too  great  a  horror  of 
such  scenes." 

Other  deputies  surround  the  Dauphin.  They 
question  him  on  different  subjects,  especially  con- 
cerning the  geography  of  France  and  its  new  terri- 
torial division  into  departments  and  districts,  and  are 
enchanted  by  the  correctness  of  his  replies. 

An  officer  of  Chasseurs  of  the  National  Guard 
enters  the  King's  chamber.     This  officer  had  shown 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  ON  JUNE  TWENTIETH.      217 

the  utmost  zeal  in  protecting  his  sovereign  and 
had  had  the  honor  of  being  wounded  at  his  side. 
He  is  congratulated.  The  Dauphin  perceives  him. 
"  What  is  the  name  of  that  guard  who  defended  my 
father  so  bravely  ?  "  he  asks.  —  "  Monseigneur,  "  re- 
plies M.  Hue,  "  I  do  not  know ;  he  will  be  flattered 
if  you  ask  him."  The  Prince  runs  to  put  his  ques- 
tion to  the  officer,  but  the  latter,  in  respectful  terms, 
declines  to  answer.  Then  M.  Hue  insists.  "  I  beg 
you,"  he  cries,  "tell  us  your  name."  —  "I  ought  to 
conceal  my  name,"  replies  the  officer ;  "  unfortunately 
for  me,  it  is  the  same  as  that  of  an  execrable  man." 
The  faithful  royalist  bore  the  same  name  as  the  man 
who  had  caused  the  arrest  of  the  royal  family  at 
Varennes  the  previous  year.  He  was  called  Drouot. 
The  hour  for  repose  has  come  at  last.  It  is  ten 
o'clock.  Certain  individuals  still  complain  :  "  They 
took  us  there  for  nothing ;  but  we  will  go  back  and 
have  what  we  want."  Still,  the  storm  is  over.  The 
crowd  has  evacuated  the  palace,  the  courtyards,  and 
the  garden.  The  Assembly  closes  its  sessions  at  half- 
past  ten.  Potion  said  there :  "  The  King  has  no 
cause  of  complaint  against  the  citizens  who  marched 
before  him.  He  has  said  as  much  to  the  deputies 
and  magistrates."  Finally,  as  the  deputies  were 
about  to  separate  after  this  exciting  day,  one  of  them, 
M.  Guy ton-Morveau,  remarked :  "  The  deputation 
which  preceded  us,  has  doubtless  announced  to  you 
that  all  is  now  tranquil.  We  remained  with  the 
King  for  some  time,  and  saw  nothing   which   could 


218  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

inspire  the  least  alarm.  We  invited  the  King  to 
seek  some  repose.  He  sent  an  officer  of  the  National 
Guard  to  visit  the  posts,  and  the  officer  reported  that 
there  was  nobody  in  the  palace.  His  Majesty  assured 
us  that  he  desired  to  remain  alone ;  we  left  him ;  and 
we  can  certify  to  you  that  all  is  quiet." 


XXI. 

THE  MORKOW   OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH. 

IN  the  morning  of  June  21  there  were  still  some 
disorderly  gatherings  in  front  of  the  Tuileries. 
On  awaking,  the  Dauphin  put  this  artless  question 
to  the  Queen:  "Mamma,  is  it  yesterday  still?" 
Alas  !  yes,  it  was  still  yesterday,  it  was  always  to  be 
yesterday  until  the  catastrophes  at  the  end  of  the 
drama.  It  was  just  a  year  to  a  day  since  the  royal 
family  had  furtively  quitted  Paris  to  begin  the  fatal 
journey  which  terminated  at  Varennes.  This  souve- 
nir occurred  to  Marie  Antoinette,  and,  recalling  the 
first  stations  of  her  Calvary,  the  unfortunate  sovereign 
told  herself  that  her  humiliations  had  but  just  begun. 
Her  lips  had  touched  only  the  brim  of  the  chalice, 
and  it  must  be  drained  to  the  dregs. 

Meanwhile,  visitors  were  arriving  at  the  Tuileries 
one  after  another  to  condole  with  and  protest  their 
fidelity  to  the  King  and  his  family.  When  Marshal 
de  Mouchy  made  his  appearance,  the  worthy  old  man 
was  received  with  the  honors  due  to  his  noble  con- 
duct on  the  previous  day.  When  the  invasion  began, 
Louis  XVI.,  in  order  not  to  irritate  the  rabble,  had 
given  his  gentlemen  a  formal  order  to  withdraw,  but 

219 


220  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

the  old  marshal,  hoping  that  his  great  age  (he  was 
seventy-seven)  would  excuse  his  presence  in  the 
palace,  had  refused  to  leave  his  master.  More  than 
once,  with  a  strength  rejuvenated  by  devotion,  he 
had  succeeded  in  repulsing  persons  whose  violence 
made  him  tremble  for  the  King's  life.  As  soon  as 
she  saw  the  marshal,  Marie  Antoinette  made  haste 
to  say :  "  I  have  learned  from  the  King  how  coura- 
geously you  defended  him  yesterday.  I  share  his 
gratitude."  —  "Madame,"  he  replied,  alluding  to 
those  of  his  relatives  who  had  figured  among  the 
promoters  of  the  Revolution,  "  I  did  very  little  in 
comparison  with  the  injuries  I  should  like  to  repair. 
They  were  not  mine,  but  they  touch  me  very  nearly." 
— "  My  son,"  said  the  Queen,  calling  the  Dauphin, 
"  repeat  before  the  marshal,  the  prayer  you  addressed 
to  God  this  morning  for  the  King."  The  child, 
kneeling  down,  put  his  hands  together,  and  looking 
up  to  heaven,  began  to  sing  this  refrain  from  the 
opera  of  Pierre  le  Crrand :  — 

del,  entends  lapriere 

Qu'ici  je  fais : 
Conserve  un  si  bon  pere 

A  ses  sujets. 

After  the  Marshal  de  Mouchy-came  M.  de  Males- 
herbes.     Contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  the   ex-first 

J  Listen,  heaven,  to  the  prayer 
That  here  I  make : 
Preserve  so  good  a  father 
To  his  subjects. 


THE  MORROW  OF  JUNE   TWENTIETH.        221 

president  wore  his  sword.  "  It  is  a  long  time,'*  some 
one  said  to  him,  "since  you  have  worn  a  sword." 
—  " True,"  replied  the  old  man,  "but  who  would  not 
arm  when  the  King's  life  is  in  danger?"  Then, 
looking  with  emotion  at  the  little  Prince,  he  said  to 
Marie  Antoinette :  "  I  hope,  Madame,  that  at  least 
our  children  will  see  better  days  !  " 

And  yet,  even  for  the  present  there  still  remained 
a  glimmer  of  hope.  Hardly  had  the  invaders  left  the 
palace  than  invectives  against  them  rose  from  all 
classes  of  society.  The  calmness  and  courage  of  the 
King  and  his  family  found  admirers  on  every  side. 
The  departments  sent  addresses  demanding  the  pun- 
ishment of  those  who  had  been  guilty.  Royalist 
sentiments  woke  to  life  anew.  One  might  almost 
believe  that  the  indignation  caused  by  the  recent 
scandals  would  produce  an  immediate  reaction  in 
favor  of  Louis  XVI.  Possibly,  with  an  energetic 
sovereign,  something  might  have  been  attempted. 
On  the  whole,  the  insurrection  had  obtained  nothing. 
Even  the  Girondins  perceived  the  dangerous  char- 
acter of  revolutionary  passions.  Honest  men  stigma- 
tized the  criminal  tendencies  which  had  just  displayed 
themselves.  It  was  the  moment  for  the  King  to 
show  himself  and  strike  a  great  blow.  But  Louis 
XVI.  had  neither  will  nor  energy.  Letting  the  last 
chance  of  safety  which  fortune  offered  him  escape, 
he  was  unable  to  profit  by  the  turn  in  public  opinion. 
Nothing  could  shake  him  out  of  that  easy  patience 
which  was  the  chief  cause  of  his  ruin. 


222  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Marie  Antoinette  herself  was  opposed  to  vigorous 
measures.  She  still  desired  to  try  the  effects  of 
kindness.  Learning  that  a  legal  inquiry  was  pro- 
posed into  the  events  of  June  20,  and  foreseeing  that 
M.  Hue  would  be  called  as  a  witness,  she  said  to  this 
loyal  servant :  "  Say  as  little  in  your  deposition  as 
truth  will  permit.  I  recommend  you,  on  the  King's 
part  and  my  own,  to  forget  that  we  were  the  objects 
^f  these  popular  movements.  Every  suspicion  that 
either  the  King  or  myself  feel  the  least  resentment 
for  what  happened  must  be  avoided  ;  it  is  not  the 
people  who  are  guilty,  and  even  if  it  were,  they 
would  always  obtain  pardon  and  forgetfulness  of 
their  errors  from  us." 

During  this  time  the  Assembly  maintained  ian 
attitude  more  than  equivocal.  It  contained  a  great 
number  of  honest  men.  But,  terrorized  already,  it 
no  longer  possessed  the  courage  of  indignation.  It 
grew  pale  before  the  menaces  of  the  public.  By 
cringxng  to  the  rabble  it  had  attained  that  hypocriti- 
cal optimism  which  is  the  distinctive  mark  of  moder- 
ate revolutionists,  and  which  makes  them  in  turn  the 
dupes  and  the  victims  of  those  who  are  more  zealous. 

If  the  majority  of  the  deputies  had  said  openly 
what  they  silently  thought,  they  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  stigmatize  the  invasion  of  the  Tuileries 
as  it  deserved.  But  in  that  case,  what  would  have 
become  of  their  popularity  with  the  pikemen  ?  And 
then,  must  they  not  take  into  account  the  ambitions 
of  the  Girondins,  the  hatreds  of  the  Mountain  party, 


THE  MORBOW  OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        223 

and  the  rancor  of  Madame  Roland  and  her  friends  ? 
Was  it  not,  moreover,  a  real  satisfaction  to  the  bour- 
geoisie to  give  power  a  lesson  and  humiliate  a  sover- 
eign ?  Ah !  how  cruelly  this  pleasure  will  be  expiated 
by  those  who  take  delight  in  it,  and  how  they  will 
repent  some  day  for  having  permitted  justice,  law, 
and  authority  to  be  trampled  under  foot ! 

When  the  session  of  June  21  opened.  Deputy 
Daverhoult  denounced  in  energetic  terms  the  vio- 
lence of  the  previous  day.  Thuriot  exclaimed :  "  Are 
we  expected  to  press  an  inquiry  against  forty  thousand 
men?"  Duranton,  the  Minister  of  Justice,  then 
read  a  letter  from  the  King,  dated  that  day,  and 
worded  thus :  "  Gentlemen,  the  National  Assembly 
is  already  acquainted  with  the  events  of  yesterday. 
Paris  is  doubtless  in  consternation  ;  France  will  hear 
the  news  with  astonishment  and  grief.  I  was  much 
affected  by  the  zeal  shown  for  me  by  the  National 
Assembly  on  this  occasion.  I  leave  to  its  prudence 
the  task  of  investigating  the  causes  of  this  event, 
weighing  its  circumstances,  and  taking  the  necessary 
measures  to  maintain  the  Constitution  and  assure  the 
inviolability  and  constitutional  liberty  of  the  heredi- 
tary representative  of  the  nation.  For  my  part, 
nothing  can  prevent  me,  at  all  times  and  under  all 
circumstances,  'from  performing  the  duties  imposed 
on  me  by  the  Constitution,  which  I  have  accepted  in 
the  true  interests  of  the  French  nation." 

A  few  moments  after  this  letter  had  been  read,  the 
session  was  disturbed  by  a  warning  from  the  munici- 


224  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

pal  agent  of  the  department,  to  the  effect  that  an 
armed  crowd  were  marching  towards  the  palace. 
This  was  soon  followed  by  tidings  that  Potion  had 
hindered  their  further  advance,  and  the  mayor  him- 
self came  to  the  Assembly  to  receive  the  laudations 
of  his  friends.  "  Order  reigns  everywhere,"  said  he  ; 
"all  precautions  have  been  taken.  The  magistrates 
have  done  their  duty;  they  will  always  do  so,  and 
the  hour  approaches  when  justice  will  be  rendered 
them." 

Potion  then  went  to  the  Tuileries,  where  he 
addressed  the  King  nearly  in  these  terms :  — 

"Sire,  we  learn  that  you  have  been  warned  of 
the  arrival  of  a  crowd  at  the  palace.  We  come  to 
announce  that  this  crowd  is  composed  of  unarmed 
citizens  who  wish  to  set  up  a  may-pole.  I  know. 
Sire,  that  the  municipality  has  been  calumniated; 
but  its  conduct  will  be  understood  by  you."  —  "  It 
ought  to  be  by  all  France,"  responded  Louis  XVI. ; 
"  I  accuse  no  one  in  particular,  I  saw  everything."  — 
"  It  will  be,"  returned  the  mayor ;  "  and  but  for  the 
prudent  measures  taken  by  the  municipality,  much 
more  disagreeable  events  might  have  occurred." 
The  King  attempted  to  reply,  but  Potion,  without 
listening  to  him,  went  on :  "  Not  to  your  own  per- 
son; you  may  well  understand  that  it  will  always 
be  respected."  The  King,  unaccustomed  to  inter- 
ruption when  speaking,  said  in  a  loud  voice :  "  Be 
silent !  "  There  was  sUence  for  an  instant,  and  then 
Louis  XVI.  added:  "Is  it  what  you  call  respecting 


THE  MORROW  OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        225 

my  person  to  enter  my  house  in  arms,  break  down 
my  doors  and  use  force  to  my  guards?"  —  "Sire," 
answered  Petion,  "I  know  the  extent  of  my  duties 
and  of  my  responsibility."  —  "  Do  your  duty  !  "  replied 
Louis'  XVI. ;  "  you  are  answerable  for  the  tranquillity 
of  Paris.  Adieu !  "  And  the  King  turned  his  back 
on  the  mayor. 

Pdtion  revenged  himself  that  very  evening,  by  cir- 
culating a  rumor  that  the  royal  family  were  prepar- 
ing to  escape ;  in  consequence,  he  requested  the 
commanders  of  the  National  Guard  to  re-enforce  the 
sentries  and  redouble  their  vigilance.  The  revolu- 
tionists, who  had  been  disconcerted  for  a  moment  by 
popular  indignation,  raised  their  heads  again.  Prud- 
homme  wrote  in  the  Revolutions  de  Paris :  "  The 
Parisian  people  —  yes,  the  people,  not  the  aristo- 
cratic class  of  citizens  —  have  just  set  a  grand  ex- 
ample to  France.  The  King,  at  the  instigation  of 
Lafayette,  discharged  his  patriotic  ministers ;  he  par- 
alyzed by  his  veto  the  decree  relative  to  the  camp  of 
twenty  thousand  men,  and  that  on  the  banishment  of 
priests.  Very  well !  the  people  rose  and  signified  to 
him  their  sovereign  will  that  the  ministers  should  be 
reinstated  and  these  two  murderous  vetoes  recalled. 
.  .  .  Doubtless  it  will  not  be  long  before  Europe 
will  be  full  of  a  caricature  representing  Louis  XVL 
of  the  big  paunch,  covered  with  orders,  crowned 
with  a  red  cap,  and  drinking  out  of  the  same  bottle 
with  the  8a7is-culottes,  who  are  crying :  '  The  King  is 
drinking,  the  King  has  drunk.     He  has  the  liberty 


226  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

cap  on  his  head.'     Would  he  might  have  it  in  his 
heart!" 

Apropos  of  this  red  bonnet  which  remained  for 
three  hours  on  the  sovereign's  head,  Bertrand  de 
Molleville  ventured  to  put  some  questions  to  Louis 
XVI.  on  the  evening  of  June  21.  According  to  the 
Memoirs  of  the  former  Minister  of  Marine,  this  is 
what  the  King  replied :  "  The  cries  of  '  Long  live  the 
Nation'  increasing  in  violence  and  seeming  to  be 
addressed  to  me,  I  answered  that  the  nation  had  no 
better  friend  than  I.  Then  an  ill-looking  man,  thrust- 
ing himself  through  the  crowd,  came  close  to  me  and 
said  in  a  rude  tone :  '  Very  well !  if  you  are  telling 
the  truth,  prove  it  to  us  by  putting  on  this  red 
cap.'  'I  consent,'  said  I.  Instantly  one  or  two  of 
these  people  advanced  and  placed  the  cap  on  my 
hair,  for  it  was  too  small  for  my  head  to  enter  it.  I 
was  convinced,  I  don't  know  why,  that  their  inten- 
tion was  simply  to  place  this  cap  on  my  head  and 
then  retire,  and  I  was  so  preoccupied  with  what  was 
going  on  before  my  eyes,  that  I  did  not  notice  whether 
it  was  there  or  not.  So  little  did  I  feel  it  that  after 
I  had  returned  to  my  chamber  I  did  not  observe  that 
I  still  wore  it  until  I  was  told.  I  was  greatly  aston- 
ished to  find  it  on  my  head,  and  was  all  the  more  dis- 
pleased because  I  could  have  taken  it  off  at  once 
without  the  least  difficulty.  But  I  am  convinced  that 
if  I  had  hesitated  to  receive  it,  the  drunken  man  by 
whom  it  was  presented  would  have  thrust  his  pike 
into  my  stomach." 


THE  MOBEOW  OF  JUNE  TWENTIETH.        227 

During  the  same  interview  Bertrand  de  Molleville 
congratulated  the  King  upon  his  almost  miraculous 
escape  from  the  dangers  of  the  previous  day.  Louis 
XVI.  replied :  "  All  my  anxieties  were  for  the  Queen, 
my  children  and  my  sister ;  because  I  feared  nothing 
for  myself."  — "  But  it  seems  to  me,"  rejoined  his 
interlocutor,  "  that  this  insurrection  was  aimed  chiefly 
against  Your  Majesty."  —  "I  know  it  very  well,"  re- 
turned Louis  XVI. ;  "  I  saw  clearly  that  they  wanted 
to  assassinate  me,  and  I  don't  know  why  they  did  not 
do  it ;  but  I  shall  not  escape  them  another  day.  So 
I  have  gained  nothing;  it  is  all  the  same  whether  I 
am  assassinated  now  or  two  months  from  now ! "  — 
"  Great  God !  "  cried  Bertrand  de  Molleville,  "  does 
Your  Majesty  believe  that  you  will  be  assassinated?" 
—  "I  am  convinced  of  it,"  replied  the  King  ;  " I  have 
expected  it  for  a  long  time  and  have  accustomed 
myself  to  the  thought.  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  of 
death?  "  —  "  Certainly  not,  but  I  would  desire  Your 
Majesty  to  take  vigorous  measures  to  protect  yourself 
from  danger."  —  "  It  is  possible,"  went  on  the  King 
after  a  moment  of  reflection,  "that  I  may  escape. 
There  are  many  odds  against  me,  and  I  am  not  lucky. 
If  I  were  alone  I  would  risk  one  more  attempt.  Ah ! 
if  my  wife  and  children  were  not  with  me,  people 
should  see  that  I  am  not  so  weak  as  they  fancy. 
What  would  be  their  fate  if  the  measures  you  propose 
to  me  did  not  succeed?"  —  "But  if  they  assassinate 
Your  Majesty,  do  you  think  that  the  Queen  and  her 
children  would  be  in  less  danger  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  I  think 


228  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 


SO,  and  even  were  it  otherwise,  I  should  not  have  to 
reproach  myself  with  being  the  cause." 

A  sort  of  Christian  fanaticism  had  taken  possession 
of  the  King's  soul.  Resigned  to  his  fate,  he  ceased 
to  struggle,  and  wrote  to  his  confessor :  "  Come  to 
see  me  to-day ;  I  have  done  with  men ;  I  want  nothing 
now  but  heaven." 


XXII. 

LAPAYETTE  IN  PARIS. 

ONE  of  the  greatest  griefs  of  a  political  career  is 
disencliantinent.  To  pass  from  devout  opti- 
mism to  profound  discouragement;  to  have  treated 
as  alarmists  or  cowards  whoever  perceived  the  least 
cloud  on  the  horizon,  and  then  to  see  the  most  for- 
midable tempests  unchained;  to  be  obliged  to  recog- 
nize at  one's  proper  cost  that  one  has  carried  illusion 
to  the  verge  of  simplicity  and  has  judged  neither  men 
nor  things  aright;  to  have  heard  distressed  passengers 
saying  that  a  pilot  without  experience  or  prudence  is 
responsible  for  the  shipwreck ;  to  have  promised  the 
age  of  gold  and  suddenly  found  one's  self  in  the  age 
"of  iron,  is  a  veritable  torture  for  the  pride  and  the 
conscience  of  a  statesman.  And  this  torture  is  still 
more  cruel  when  to  disappointment  is  added  the  loss 
of  a  popularity  laboriously  acquired ;  when,  having 
been  accustomed  to  excite  nothing  but  enthusiasm 
and  applause,  one  is  all  at  once  greeted  with  criticism, 
howls,  and  curses,  and  when,  having  long  strutted 
xbout  triumphantly  on  the  summits  of  the  Capitol, 
one  sees  yawning  before  him  the  gulf  at  the  foot  of 
the  Tarpeian  rock. 

229 


230  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Such  was  the  fate  of  Lafayette.  A  few  months  had 
sufficed  to  tlirow  down  the  popular  idol  from  his 
pedestal,  and  the  same  persons  who  had  once  almost 
burned  incense  before  him,  now  thought  of  nothing 
but  flinging  him  into  the  gutter.  Stunned  by  his  fall, 
Lafayette  could  not  believe  it.  To  familiarize  him- 
self with  the  fickleness,  the  caprices,  and  the  inconse- 
quence of  the  multitude  was  impossible.  For  him 
the  Constitution  was  the  sacred  ark,  and  he  did  not 
believe  that  the  very  men  who  had  constructed  this 
edifice  at  such  a  cost  had  now  nothing  so  much  at 
heart  as  to  destroy  it.  He  would  not  admit  that  the 
predictions  of  the  royalists  were  about  to  be  accom- 
plished in  every  point,  and  still  desired  to  hold 
aloof  from  the  complicities  into  which  revolutions 
drag  the  most  upright  minds  and  the  most  honest 
characters.  He  who,  in  July,  1789,  had  not  been 
able  to  prevent  the  assassination  of  Foulon  and  Ber- 
thier ;  who,  on  October  5,  had  marched,  despite  him- 
self, against  Versailles  ;  who,  on  April  18,  1791,  had 
been  unable  to  protect  the  departure  of  the  royal  fam- 
ily to  Saint  Cloud ;  who,  on  the  following  June  21, 
had  thought  himself  obliged  to  say  to  the  Jacobins  in 
their  club :  "  I  have  come  to  rejoin  you,  because  I 
think  the  true  patriots  are  here,'-'  nevertheless  imag- 
ined that  just  a  year  later,  all  that  was  necessary  to 
vanquish  the  same  Jacobins  was  for  him  to  show  him- 
self and  say  like  Caesar :  "  Veni^  vidi,  vici^ 

It  was  only  a  later  illusion  of  the  generous  but 
imprudent  man   who   had    already   dreamed    many 


LAFAYETTE  IN  PABI8.  231 

dreams.  He  thought  the  popular  tiger  could  be 
muzzled  by  persuasion.  He  was  going  to  make  a 
coup  d'Stat,  not  in  deeds,  but  in  words,  forgetting 
that  the  Revolution  neither  esteems  nor  fears  any- 
thing but  force.  As  M.  de  Larmartime  has  said: 
"  One  gets  from  factions  only  what  one  snatches." 
Instead  of  striking,  Lafayette  was  going  to  speak  and 
write.  The  Jacobins  might  have  feared  his  sword; 
they  despised  his  words  and  pen.  But  though  it  was 
not  very  wise,  the  noble  audacity  with  which  the  hero 
of  America  came  spontaneously  to  throw  himself  into 
the  heat  of  the  struggle  and  utter  his  protest  in  the 
name  of  right  and  honor,  was  none  the  less  an  act  of 
courage.  While  with  the  army,  that  asylum  of  gen- 
erous ideas,  the  sentiments  on  which  his  ancestors 
had  prided  themselves  rekindled  in  his  heart.  Mem- 
ories of  his  early  youth  revived  anew.  Doubtless  he 
also  recalled  his  personal  obligations  to  Louis  XVI. 
On  his  return  from  the  United  States,  had  he  not 
been  created  major-general  over  the  heads  of  a  multi- 
tude of  older  officers  ?  Had  not  the  Queen  accorded 
him  at  that  epoch  the  most  flattering  eulogies  ?  Had 
he  not  been  received  at  the  great  receptions  of  May 
29,  1785,  when  any  other  officer  unless  highly  born 
would  have  remained  in  the  (Eil-de-Boeuf  or  paid  his 
court  in  the  passage  of  the  chapel  ?  Had  he  not  ac- 
cepted the  rank  of  lieutenant-general  from  the  King, 
on  June  30, 1791?  The  gentleman  reappeared  beneath 
the  revolutionist.  The  humiliation  of  a  throne  for 
which  his  ancestors   had  so  often  shed   their   blood 


232  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

caused  him  a  real  grief,  and  it  is  perhaps  regret- 
table that  Louis  XVI.  should  have  refused  the  hand 
which  his  recent  adversary  extended  loyally  though 
late. 

Lafayette  was  encamped  near  Bavay  with  the 
Army  of  the  North  when  the  first  tidings  of  June  20 
reached  him.  His  soul  was  roused  to  indignation, 
and  he  wanted  to  start  at  once  for  Paris  to  lift  his 
voice  against  the  Jacobins.  Old  Marshal  Luckner 
tried  in  vain  to  restrain  him  by  saying  that  the  sans- 
culottes would  have  his  head.  Nothing  could  stop 
him.  Placing  his  army  in  safety  under  the  cannon 
of  Maubeuge,  he  started  with  no  companion  but  an 
aide-de-camp.  At  Soissons  some  persons  tried  to  dis- 
suade him  from  going  further  by  painting  a  doleful 
picture  of  the  dangers  to  which  he  would  expose  him- 
self. He  listened  to  nobody  and  went  on  his  way. 
Reaching  Paris  in  the  night  of  June  27-28,  he  alighted 
at  the  house  of  his  intimate  friend,  the  Duke  de  La 
Rochefoucauld,  who  was  about  to  play  so  honorable 
a  part.  As  soon  as  morning  came,  Lafayette  was  at 
the  door  of  the  National  Assembly,  asking  permission 
to  offer  the  homage  of  his  respect.  This  authoriza- 
tion having  been  granted,  he  entered  the  hall.  The 
right  applauded ;  the  left  kept  silence.  Being  allowed 
to  speak,  he  declared  that  he  was  the  author  of  the 
letter  to  the  Assembly  of  June  16,  whose  authenticity 
had  been  denied,  and  that  he  openly  avowed  respon- 
sibility for  it.  He  then  expressed  himself  in  the 
sincerest  terms  concerning  the  outrages  committed  in 


LAFAYETTE  IN  PARIS.  233 

the  palace  of  the  Tuileries  on  June  20.  He  said  he 
had  received  from  the  officers,  subalterns,  and  soldiers 
of  his  army  a  great  number  of  addresses  expressive 
of  their  love  for  the  Constitution,  their  respect  for 
the  authorities,  and  their  patriotic  hatred  against  sedi- 
tious men  of  all  parties.  He  ended  by  imploring  the 
Assembly  to  punish  the  authors  or  instigators  of  the 
violences  committed  on  June  20,  as  guilty  of  treason 
against  the  nation,  and  to  destroy  a  sect  which  en- 
croached upon  National  Sovereignty,  and  terrorized 
citizens,  and  by  their  public  debates  removed  all 
doubts  concerning  the  atrocity  of  their  projects. 
"  In  my  own  name  and  that  of  all  honest  men  in  the 
kingdom,"  said  he  in  conclusion,  "  I  entreat  you  to 
take  efficacious  measures  to  make  all  constitutional 
authorities  respected,  particularly  your  own  and  that 
of  the  King,  and  to  assure  the  army  that  the  Consti- 
tution will  receive  no  injury  from  within,  while  so 
many  brave  Frenchmen  are  lavishing  their  blood  to 
defend  it  on  the  frontiers." 

Applause  from  the  right  and  from  some  of  those 
in  the  galleries  began  anew.  The  president  said: 
"  The  National  Assembly  has  sworn  to  maintain  the 
Constitution.  Faithful  to  its  oath,  it  will  be  able  to 
guarantee  it  against  all  attacks.  It  accords  to  you 
the  honors  of  the  session."  The  general  went  to 
take  his  seat  on  the  right.  Deputy  Kersaint  ob- 
served that  his  place  was  on  the  petitioners'  bench. 
The  general  obeyed  this  hint  and  sat  down  modestly 
on  the  bench  assigned  him.     Renewed  applause  en- 


234  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

sued.  Thereupon  Guadet  ascended  the  tribune  and 
said  in  an  ironic  tone:  "At  the  moment  when  M. 
Lafayette's  presence  in  Paris  was  announced  to  me, 
a  most  consoling  idea  presented  itself.  So  we  have 
no  more  external  enemies,  thought  I ;  the  Austrians 
are  conquered.  This  illusion  did  not  last  long.  Our 
enemies  remain  the  same.  Our  exterior  situation  is 
not  altered,  and  yet  M.  Lafayette  is  in  Paris !  What 
powerful  motives  have  brought  him  hither?  Our 
internal  troubles?  Does  he  fear,  then,  that  the 
National  Assembly  is  not  strong  enough  to  repress 
them  ?  He  constitutes  himself  the  organ  of  his  army 
and  of  honest  men.  Where  are  these  honest  men? 
How  has  the  army  been  able  to  deliberate  ?  "  Guadet 
-concluded  thus  :  "  I  demand  that  the  Minister  of 
War  be  asked  whether  he  gave  leave  of  absence 
to  M.  Lafayette,  and  that  the  extraordinary  Com- 
mittee of  Twelve  make  a  report  to-morrow  on  the 
danger  of  granting  the  right  of  petition  to  generals." 
Ramond,  one  of  the  most  courageous  members  of 
the  right,  was  the  next  speaker:  "Four  days  ago," 
said  he,  "  an  armed  multitude  asked  to  appear  before 
you.  Positive  laws  forbade  such  a  thing,  and  a  proc- 
lamation made  by  the  department  on  the  previous 
day  recalled  this  law  and  demanded  that  \t  should 
be  put  into  execution.  You  paid  no  attention,  but 
admitted  armed  men  into  your  midst.  To-day  M. 
Lafayette  presents  himself;  he  is  known  only  by 
reason  of  his  love  of  liberty ;  his  life  is  a  series  of 
combats  against   despotisms   of  every  sort;   he   has 


LAFAYETTE  IN  PABlS.  235 

sacrificed  his  life  and  fortune  to  the  Revolution.  It 
is  against  this  man  that  pretended  suspicions  are 
directed  and  every  passion  unchained.  Has  the 
National  Assembly  two  weights  and  measures,  then  ? 
Certainly,  if  respect  is  to  be  had  to  persons,  it  should 
be  shown  to  this  eldest  son  of  French  liberty."  This 
eulogy  exasperated  the  left.  Deputy  Saladin  ex- 
claimed :  "  I  ask  M.  Ramond  if  he  is  making  M. 
Lafayette's  funeral  oration?"  However,  the  right 
was  still  in  the  majority.  After  a  long  tumult 
Guadet's  motion  against  Lafayette  was  rejected  by 
339  votes  against  234.  The  general  left  the  Assem- 
bly surrounded  by  a  numerous  cortege  of  deputies  and 
National  Guards,  and  went  directly  to  the  palace  of 
the  Tuileries. 

It  is  the  decisive  moment.  The  vote  just  taken 
may  serve  as  the  starting-point  of  a  conservative 
reaction  if  the  King  will  trust  himself  to  Lafayette. 
But  how  will  he  receive  him  ?  The  sovereign's  greet- 
ing will  be  polite,  but  not  cordial.  The  King  and 
Queen  say  they  are  persuaded  that  there  is  no  safety 
but  in  the  Constitution.  Louis  XVI.  adds  that  he 
would  consider  it  a  very  fortunate  thing  if  the  Aus- 
trians  were  beaten  without  delay.  Lafayette  is 
treated  with  a  courtesy  through  which  suspicion 
pierces.  When  he  leaves  the  palace,  a  large  crowd 
accompany  him  to  his  house  and  plant  a  may-pole 
before  the  door.  On  the  next  day  Louis  XVI.  w£is 
to  review  four  thousand  men  of  the  National  Guard. 
Lafayette   had  proposed  to   appear  at  this   review 


236  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROTALTT. 

beside  the  King  and  make  a  speech  in  favor  of  order. 
But  the  court  does  not  desire  the  general's  aid,  and 
takes  what  measures  it  can  to  defeat  this  project. 
Potion,  whom  it  had  preferred  to  Lafayette  as  mayor 
of  Paris,  countermands  the  review  an  hour  before 
daybreak. 

Perhaps  Louis  XVI.  might  have  succeeded  in 
overcoming  his  repugnance  to  Lafayette  and  sub- 
mitted to  be  rescued  by  him.  But  the  Queen  abso- 
lutely refused  to  trust  the  man  whom  she  considered 
her  evil  genius.  She  had  seen  him  rise  like  a  spectre 
at  every  hapless  hour.  He  had  brought  her  back  to 
Paris  a  prisoner  on  the  6th  of  October.  He  had 
been  her  jailer.  His  apparition  amid  the  glare  of 
torches  in  the  Court  of  the  Carrousel  had  frozen  her 
with  terror  when  she  was  flying  from  her  prison,  the 
Tuileries,  to  begin  the  fatal  journey  to  Varennes. 
His  aides-de-camp  had  pursued  her.  He  was  respon- 
sible for  her  arrest ;  he  was  present  at  her  humiliating 
and  sorrowful  return ;  the  sight  of  his  face,  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  made  her  tremble  ;  she  could  not  hear 
his  name  without  a  shudder.  In  vain  Madame  Elisa- 
beth exclaimed :  "  Let  us  forget  the  past  and  throw 
ourselves  into  the  arms  of  the  only  man  who  can  save 
the  King  and  his  family ! "  Marie  Antoinette's  pride 
revolted  at  the  thought  of  owing  anything  to  her 
former  persecutor.  Moreover,  in  his  latest  confiden- 
tial communications  with  her,  Mirabeau  had  said: 
"  Madame,  be  on  your  guard  against  Lafayette ;  if 
ever  he  commands  the  army,  he  would  like  to  keep 


LAFAYETTE  IN  PARIS.  237 

the  King  in  Ms  tent."  In  the  Queen's  opinion,  to 
rely  on  Lafayette  would  be  to  accept  him  as  regent 
of  the  palace  under  a  sluggard  King.  Protector  for 
protector,  she  preferred  Dan  ton.  Danton,  who,  sub- 
sidized from  the  civil  list,  accepts  money  without 
knowing  whether  he  will  fairly  earn  it ;  Danton,  who, 
while  awaiting  events,  had  made  the  cynical  remark 
that  he  would  "  save  the  King  or  kill  him."  Strange 
that  the  orator  of  the  faubourgs  inspired  the  daugh- 
ter of  Caesars  with  less  repugnance  than  the  gentle- 
man, the  marquis.  "  They  propose  M.  de  Lafay- 
ette as  a  resource,"  she  said  to  Madame  Campan; 
"but  it  would  be  better  to  perish  than  owe  our 
safety  to  the  man  who  has  done  us  most  harm." 

However,  Lafayette  was  not  yet  discouraged.  He 
wished  to  save  the  royal  family  in  spite  of  themselves. 
He  assembled  several  officers  of  the  National  Guard 
at  his  house.  He  represented  to  them  the  dangers 
into  which  the  apathy  of  each  plunged  the  affairs  of 
all ;  he  showed  the  urgent  necessity  of  combining 
against  the  avowed  enterprises  of  the  anarchists,  of 
inspiring  the  National  Assembly  with  the  firmness 
required  to  repress  the  intended  attacks,  and  foretold 
the  inevitable  calamities  which  would  result  from  the 
weakness  and  disunion  of  honest  men.  He  wanted 
to  march  against  the  Jacobin  Club  and  close  it.  But, 
in  consequence  of  the  instructions  issued  by  the 
court,  the  royalists  of  the  National  Guard  were  indis- 
posed to  second  him  in  this  measure.  Lafayette, 
having  no  one  on  his  side  but  the  constitutionals,  an 


288  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

honest  but  scanty  group  who  were  suspected  by  both 
of  the  extreme  parties,  gave  up  the  struggle.  The 
next  day,  June  30,  he  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  the 
army,  after  writing  to  the  Assembly  another  letter 
which  was  merely  an  echo  of  the  first  one.  A 
moment  since,  the  Jacobins  were  trembling.  Now, 
they  are  reassured,  they  triumph.  In  his  Chronique 
des  Cinquante  Jours,  Rcederer  says:  "If  M.  de 
Lafayette  had  had  the  will  and  ability  to  make  a 
bold  stroke  and  seize  the  dictatorship,  reserving  the 
power  to  relinquish  it  after  the  re-establishment  of 
order,  one  could  comprehend  his  coming  to  the 
Assembly  with  the  sword  of  a  dictator  at  his  side ; 
but,  to  show  it  only,  without  resolving  to  draw  it 
from  the  scabbard,  was  a  fatal  imprudence.  In  civil 
commotions  it  will  not  answer  to  dare  by  halves." 


XXIII. 

THE  LAMOUEETTB  KISS. 

FRANCE  had  still  its  moments  of  enthusiasm 
and  illusion  before  plunging  into  the  abyss 
of  woes.  It  seemed  under  an  hallucination,  or  suf- 
fering from  a  sort  of  vertigo.  A  nameless  frenzy, 
both  in  good  and  evil,  agitated  and  disturbed  it 
beyond  measure  in  1792,  that  year  so  fertile  in 
surprises  and  dramas  of  every  kind.  Strange  and 
bizarre  epoch,  full  of  love  and  hatred,  launching 
itself  from  one  extreme  to  the  other  with  frightful 
inconstancy,  now  weeping  with  tenderness,  and  now 
howling  with  rage  !  Society  resembled  a  drunken 
man  who  is  sometimes  amiable  in  his  cups,  and 
sometimes  cruel.  There  were  sudden  halts  on  the 
road  of  fury,  oases  in  the  midst  of  scorching  sands, 
beneath  a  sun  whose  fire  consumed.  But  the  caravan 
does  not  rest  long  beneath  the  shady  trees.  Quickly 
it  resumes  its  course  as  if  urged  by  a  mysterious 
force,  and  soon  the  terrible  simoom  overwhelms  and 
destroys  it. 

Madame  Elisabeth  wrote  to  Madame  de  Raige- 
court,  July  8,  1792 :  "  It  would  need  all  Madame 
de   S^vign^'s  eloquence   to   describe   properly  what 

230 


240  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

happened  yesterday;  for  it  was  certainly  the  most 
surprising  thing,  the  most  extraordinary,  the  greatest, 
the  smallest,  etc.,  etc.  But,  fortunately,  experience 
may  aid  comprehension.  In  a  word,  here  were  Jaco- 
bins, Feuillants,  republicans,  and  monarchists,  abjur- 
ing all  their  discords  and  assembling  near  the  tree  of 
the  Constitution  and  of  liberty,  to  promise  sincerely 
that  they  will  act  in  accordance  with  law  and  not 
depart  from  it.  Luckily,  August  is  coming,  the  time 
when,  the  leaves  being  well  grown,  the  tree  of  liberty 
will  aiford  a  more  secure  shelter." 

What  had  happened  on  the  day  before  Madame 
Elisabeth  wrote  this  letter  ?  There  had  been  a  very 
singular  session  of  the  Legislative  Assembly.  In  the 
morning,  a  woman  named  Olympe  de  Gouges,  whose 
mother  was  a  dealer  in  second-hand  clothing  at 
Montauban,  being  consumed  with  a  desire  to  be 
talked  about,  had  caused  an  emphatic  placard  to  be 
posted  up,  in  which  she  preached  concord  between 
all  parties.  This  placard  was  like  a  prologue  to  the 
day's  session. 

Among  the  deputies  there  was  a  certain  Abb6 
Lamourette,  the  constitutional  bishop  of  Lyons,  who 
played  at  religious  democracy.  He  was  an  ex-Laza- 
rist  who  had  been  professor  of  theology  at  the  Semi- 
nary at  Toul.  Weary  of  the  conventual  yoke,  he  had 
left  his  order,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution 
was  the  vicar-general  of  the  diocese  of  Arras.  He 
had  published  several  works  in  which  he  sought  to 
reconcile   philosophy   and   religion.     Mirabeau   was 


THE  L AMOURETTE  KISS.  241 

one  of  his  acolytes  and  adopted  him  as  his  theologian 
in  ordinary.  Finding  him  fit  to  "  bishopize  "  {d  evS- 
quaillef),  to  use  his  own  expression,  the  great  tribune 
recommended  him  to  the  electors  of  the  Rhone  de- 
partment. It  was  thus  that  the  Abb^  Lamourette 
became  the  constitutional  bishop  of  Lyons.  After 
his  consecration,  he  issued  a  pastoral  instruction  in 
such  agreement  with  current  ideas  that  Mirabeau, 
his  protector,  induced  the  Constituent  Assembly  to 
have  it  sent  as  a  model  to  every  department  in 
France.  In  1792,  the  Abb^  Lamourette  was  fifty 
years  old.  Affable,  unctuous,  his  mouth  always  full 
of  pacific  and  gentle  words,  he  naively  preached 
moderation,  concord,  and  fraternity  in  conversations 
which  were  like  so  many  sermons. 

For  several  days  the  discussions  in  the  Assembly 
had  been  of  unparalleled  violence.  Suspicion,  hatred, 
rancor,  wrath,  were  unchained  in  a  fury  that  bor- 
dered on  delirium.  Right  and  left  emulated  each 
other  in  outrages  and  invectives.  Lafayette's  appear- 
ance and  the  fear  of  a  foreign  invasion  had  disturbed 
all  minds.  The  National  Assembly,  sitting  both  day 
and  night,  was  like  an  arena  of  gladiators  fighting 
without  truce  or  pity.  It  was  this  moment  which 
the  good  Abb^  Lamourette  chose  for  delivering  his 
most  touching  sermon  from  the  tribune. 

During  the  session  of  July  7,  Brissot  was  about 
to  ascend  the  tribune  and  propose  new  measures 
of  public  safety.  Lamourette,  getting  before  him, 
asked  to  be  heard  on  a  motion  of  order.     He  said 


242  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

that  of  all  the  means  proposed  for  arresting  the 
divisions  which  were  destroying  France,  but  one  had 
been  forgotten,  and  that  the  only  one  which  could  be 
efficacious.  It  was  the  union  of  all  Frenchmen  in 
one  mind,  the  reconciliation  of  all  the  deputies,  with- 
out exception.  What  was  to  prevent  this?  The 
only  irreconcilable  things  are  crime  and  virtue.  What 
do  all  our  mistrust  and  suspicions  amount  to  ?  One 
party  in  the  Assembly  attributes  to  the  other  a  sedi- 
tious desire  to  destroy  the  monarchy.  The  others 
attribute  to  their  colleagues  a  desire  to  destroy  con- 
stitutional equality  and  to  establish  the  aristocratic 
government  known  as  that  of  the  Two  Chambers. 
These  are  the  disastrous  suspicions  which  divide 
the  empire.  "  Very  well ! "  cried  the  abb^,  "  let  us 
crush  both  the  republic  and  the  Two  Chambers." 
The  hall  rang  with  unanimous  applause  from  the 
Assembly  and  the  galleries.  From  all  sides  came 
shouts  of  "  Yes,  yes,  we  want  nothing  but  the  Con- 
stitution." Lamourette  went  on :  "  Let  us  swear  to 
have  but  one  mind,  one  sentiment.  Let  us  swear  to 
sink  all  our  differences  and  become  a  homogeneous 
mass  of  freemen  formidable  both  to  the  spirit  of 
anarchy  and  that  of  feudalism.  The  moment  when 
foreigners  see  that  we  desire  one '  settled  thing,  and 
that  we  all  desire  it,  will  be  the  moment  when 
liberty  will  triumph  and  France  be  saved.  I  ask 
the  president  to  put  to  vote  this  simple  proposi- 
tion: That  those  who  equally  abjure  and  execrate 
the  republic  and  the  Two  Chambers  shall  rise."     At 


THE  LAMOURETTE  KISS.  243 

once,  as  if  moved  by  the  same  impulse,  the  members 
of  the  Assembly  rose  as  one  man,  and  swore  enthusi- 
astically never  to  permit,  either  by  the  introduction 
of  the  republican  system  or  by  that  of  the  Two 
Chambers,  any  alteration  whatsoever  in  the  Consti- 
tution. 

By  a  spontaneous  movement,  the  members  of  the 
extreme  left  went  towards  the  deputies  of  the  right. 
They  were  received  with  open  arms,  and,  in  their 
turn,  the  right  advanced  toward  the  ranks  of  the  left. 
All  parties  blended.  Jaucourt  and  Merlin,  Albite 
and  Ramond,  Gensonn^  and  Calvet,  Chabot  and 
Genty,  men  who  ordinarily  opposed  each  other  relent- 
lessly, could  be  seen  sitting  on  the  same  bench.  As 
if  by  miracle,  the  Assembly  chamber  became  the 
temple  of  Concord.  The  moved  spectators  mingled 
their  acclamations  with  the  oaths  of  the  deputies. 
According  to  the  expressions  of  the  Moniteur,  seren- 
ity and  joy  were  on  all  faces,  and  unction  in  every 
heart. 

M.  Emmery  was  the  next  speaker.  "When  the 
Assembly  is  reunited,"  said  he,  "  all  the  powers  ought 
to  be  so.  I  ask,  therefore,  that  the  Assembly  at  once 
send  the  King  the  minutes  of  its  proceedings  by  a 
deputation  of  twenty-four  members."  The  motion 
was  adopted. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Louis  XVI.,  followed  by  the 
deputation  and  surrounded  by  his  ministers,  entered 
the  hall.  Cries  of  "  Long  live  the  nation  !  Long  live 
the  King ! "  resounded  from  every  side.    The  sovereign 


244  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

placed  himself  near  the  president,  and  in  a  voice  that 
betrayed  emotion,  made  the  following  address :  "  Gen- 
tlemen, the  spectacle  most  affecting  to  my  heart  is 
that  of  the  reunion  of  all  wills  for  the  sake  of  the 
country's  safety.  I  have  long  desired  this  salutary 
moment;  my  desire  is  accomplished.  The  nation 
and  the  King  are  one.  Each  of  them  has  the  same 
end  in  view.  Their  reunion  will  save  France.  The 
Constitution  should  be  the  rallying-point  for  all 
Frenchmen.  We  all  ought  to  defend  it.  The  King 
will  always  set  the  example  of  so  doing."  The  presi- 
dent replied :  "  Sire,  this  memorable  moment,  when 
all  constituted  authorities  unite,  is  a  signal  of  joy 
to  the  friends  of  liberty,  and  of  terror  to  its  enemies. 
From  this  union  will  issue  the  force  necessary  to 
combat  the  tyrants  combined  against  us.  It  is  a 
sure  warrant  of  liberty." 

After  prolonged  applause  a  great  silence  followed. 
"  I  own  to  you,  M.  the  President,"  presently  said 
the  complaisant  Louis  XVI.,  "  that  I  was  longing  for 
the  deputation  to  finish,  so  that  I  might  hasten  to  the 
Assembly."  Applause  and  cries  of  "Long  live  the 
nation !  Long  live  the  King  ! "  redoubled.  What ! 
this  monarch  now  acclaimed  is  the  same  prince 
against  whom  Vergniaud  hurled  invectives  a  few 
days  ago  with  the  enthusiastic  approbation  of  the 
same  Assembly !  He  is  the  sovereign  whom  the 
Girondin  thus  addressed:  "O  King,  who  doubtless 
have  believed  with  Lysander  the  tyrant  that  truth  is 
no  better  than  a  lie,  and  that  men  must  be  amused 


THE  LAMOUBETTE  KISS.  245 

with  oaths  like  children  with  rattles ;  who  have  pre- 
tended to  love  the  laws  only  to  preserve  the  power 
that  will  enable  you  to  defy  them ;  the  Constitution 
only  that  it  may  not  cast  you  from  the  throne  where 
you  must  remain  in  order  to  destroy  it ;  the  nation 
only  to  assure  the  success  of  your  perfidy  by  inspiring 
it  with  confidence, —  do  you  think  you  can  impose 
upon  us  to-day  by  hypocritical  protestations?"  What 
has  occurred  since  the  day  when  Vergniaud,  uttering 
such  words  as  these,  was  frantically  cheered?  Noth- 
ing. That  day,  the  weather-cock  pointed  to  anger; 
to-day  to  concord.  Why  ?  No  one  knows.  Tired  of 
hating,  the  Assembly  doubtless  needed  an  instant  of 
relaxation.  Violent  sentiments  end  by  wearying  the 
souls  that  experience  them.  They  must  rest  and 
renew  their  energies  in  order  to  hate  better  to-mor- 
row. And  why  say  to-morrow  ?  This  very  evening 
the  quarrelling,  anger,  and  fury  will  begin  anew. 

At  half-past  three  Louis  XVI.  left  the  Hall  of  the 
Manage,  in  the  midst  of  joyful  applause  from  the 
Assembly  and  the  galleries.  During  the  evening 
session  discord  reappeared.  The  following  letter 
from  the  King  was  read :  "  I  have  just  been  handed 
the  departmental  decree  which  provisionally  suspends 
the  mayor  and  the  procureur  of  the  Commune  of 
Paris.  As  this  decree  is  based  on  facts  which  person- 
ally concern  me,  the  first  impulse  of  my  heart  is  to 
beg  the  Assembly  to  decide  upon  it."  Does  any  one 
believe  that  the  Assembly  will  have  the  courage  to 
condemn  Potion  and  the  20th  of  June?     Not  a  bit 


246  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 

of  it.  It  makes  no  decision,  but  passes  unanimously 
from  the  King's  letter  to  the  order  of  the  day.  And 
what  occurs  at  the  clubs?  Listen  to  Billaud-Va- 
rennes  at  the  Jacobins :  "  They  embrace  each  other  at 
the  Assembly,"  he  exclaims ;  "  it  is  the  kiss  of  Judas, 
it  is  the  kiss  of  Charles  IX.,  extending  his  hand  to 
Coligny.  They  were  embracing  like  this  while  the 
King  was  preparing  for  flight  on  October  6.  They 
were  embracing  like  this  before  the  massacres  of  the 
Champ-de-Mars.  They  embrace,  but  are  the  court 
conspiracies  coming  to  an  end?  Have  our  enemies 
ceased  their  advance  against  our  frontiers?  Is  La- 
fayette the  less  a  traitor  ?  "  And  thereupon  the  cry 
broke  out :  "  Potion  or  death ! "  The  next  day,  June 
8,  at  the  Assembly,  loud  applause  greeted  the  orator 
from  a  section  who  said,  concerning  the  department : 
"  It  openly  serves  the  sinister  projects  and  disastrous 
conspiracies  of  a  perfidious  court.  It  is  the  first  link 
in  the  immense  chain  of  plots  formed  against  the  peo- 
ple. It  is  an  accomplice  in  the  extravagant  projects 
of  this  general,  who,  not  being  able  to  become  the 
hero  of  liberty,  has  preferred  to  make  himself  the 
Don  Quixote  of  the  court."  A  deputy  exclaimed: 
"The  acclamations  with  which  the  Assembly  has 
listened  to  this  petition  authorize  me  to  ask  its  pub- 
lication: I  make  an  express  motion  to  that  effect." 
And  the  publication  was  decreed. 

O  poor  Lamourette !  humanitarian  abb^,  rose-water 
revolutionist,  of  what  avail  is  your  democratic  holy 
water  ?    What  have  you  gained  by  your  sentimental 


TEE  lAMOURETTE  KISS.  247 

jargon?  what  do  your  dreams  of  evangelical  phil- 
osophy and  universal  brotherhood  amount  to  ?  Poor 
constitutional  abb^,  people  are  scoffing  already  at 
your  sacerdotal  unction,  your  soothing  homily !  The 
very  men  who,  to  please  you,  have  sworn  to  destroy 
the  republic,  will  proclaim  it  two  and  a  half  months 
later.  Your  famous  reunion  of  parties,  people  are 
already  shrugging  their  shoulders  at  and  calling  it 
the  "  baiser  d^ Amourette,  la  reconciliation  normande  " ; 
the  calf-love  kiss,  the  pretended  reconciliation.  They 
accuse  you  of  having  sold  yourself  to  the  court. 
They  ridicule,  they  flout,  and  they  will  kill  you. 
January  11,  ,1794,  Fouquier-Tinville's  prosecuting 
speech  will  punish  you  for  your  moderatism.  You 
will  carry  your  head  to  the  scaffold^  and,  optimist  to 
the  end,  you  will  say:  "What  is  the  guillotine? 
only  a  rap  on  the  neck." 


XXIV. 

THE  F^TE  OF  THE  FEDERATION  IN  1792. 

THE  fSte  of  the  Federation,  which  was  to  be 
celebrated  July  14,  was  awaited  with  anxiety. 
The  federates  came  into  Paris  full  of  the  most  revo- 
lutionary projects.  Anxiety  and  anguish  reigned  at 
the  Tuileries.  Louis  XVI,  and  Marie  Antoinette, 
who  were  to  be  present  in  the  Champ-de-Mars,  feared 
to  be  assassinated  there.  The  Queen's  importunities 
decided  the  King  to  have  a  plastron  made,  to  ward 
off  a  poniard  thrust.  Composed  of  fifteen  thicknesses 
of  Italian  taffeta,  this  plastron  consisted  of  a  vest  and 
a  large  belt.  Madame  Campan  secretly  tried  it  on 
the  King  in  the  chamber  where  Marie  Antoinette  was 
lying.  Pulling  Madame  Campan  by  the  dress  as  far 
as  possible  from  the  Queen's  bed,  Louis  XVI.  whis- 
pered :  "  It  is  to  satisfy  her  that  I  yield ;  they  will 
not  assassinate  me ;  their  plan  is  changed ;  they  will 
put  me  to  death  in  another  way."  When  the  King 
had  gone  out,  the  Queen  forced  Madame  Campan  to 
tell  her  what  he  had  just  said.  "  I  had  divined  it !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  He  has  said  this  long  time  that  all 
that  is  going  on  in  France  is  an  imitation  of  the  revo- 
lution in  England  under  Charles  I.  I  begin  to  dread 
248 


THE  F&TE  OF  THE  FEDERATION  IN   1792.     249 

an  impeachment  for  him .  As  for  me,  I  am  a  foreigner, 
and  they  will  assassinate  me.  What  will  become 
of  ray  poor  children  ? "  And  she  fell  to  weeping. 
Madame  Campan  tried  to  administer  a  nervine,  but 
the  Queen  refused  it.  "  Nervous  maladies,"  said  she.; 
"  are  the  ailments  of  happy  women ;  I  no  longer  have 
them."  Without  her  knowledge  a  sort  of  corset,  in 
the  style  of  her  husband's  plastron,  had  been  made 
for  her.  Nothing  could  induce  her  to  wear  it.  To 
those  who  implored  her  with  tears  to  put  it  on,  she 
replied :  "  If  seditious  persons  assassinate  me,  so  much 
the  better ;  they  will  deliver  me  from  a  most  sorrow- 
ful life." 

The  f6te  of  the  Federation  was  celebrated  in  1792 
amidst  extremely  tragical  preoccupations.  Things 
had  changed  very  greatly  since  the  f^te  which  had 
excited  such  enthusiasm  two  years  earlier.  On  July 
14, 1790,  the  Champ-de-Mars  was  filled  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  by  a  crowd  delirious  with  joy.  At 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  July  14,  1792,  it  was 
still  empty.  The  people  were  said  to  be  at  the  Bas- 
tille witnessing  the  laying  of  the  first  stone  of  the 
column  to  be  erected  on  the  ruins  of  the  famous  for- 
tress. On  the  Champ-de-Mars  there  was  no  magnifi- 
cent altar  served  by  three  hundred  priests,  no  side 
benches  covered  by  an  innumerable  crowd,  none  of 
that  sincere  and  ardent  joy  which  throbbed  in  every 
heart  two  years  before.  For  the  fSte  of  1792,  eighty- 
three  little  tents,  representing  the  departments  of  the 
kingdom,  had  been  erected  on  hillocks  of  sand.     Be- 


250  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

fore  each  tent  stood  a  poplar,  so  frail  that  it  seemed 
as  if  a  breath  might  blow  away  the  tree  and  its  tri- 
colored  pendant.  In  the  middle  of  the  Champ-de- 
Mars  were  four  stretchers  covered  with  canvas  painted 
gray  which  would  have  made  a  miserable  decoration 
for  a  boulevard  theatre.  It  was  a  so-called  tomb,  an 
honorary  monument  to  those  who  had  died  or  were 
about  to  die  on  the  frontiers.  On  one  side  of  it  was 
the  inscription:  "Tremble,  tyrants;  we  will  avenge 
them  ! "  The  Altar  of  the  Country  could  hardly  be 
seen.  It  was  formed  of  a  truncated  column  placed 
on  the  top  of  the  altar  steps  raised  in  1790.  Perfumes 
were  burned  on  the  four  small  corner  altars.  Two 
hundred  yards  farther  off,  near  the  Seine,  a  large  tree 
had  been  set  up  and  named  the  Tree  of  Feudalism. 
From  its  branches  depended  escutcheons,  helmets, 
and  blue  ribboi^s  interwoven  with  chains.  This  tree 
rose  out  of  a  wood-pile  on  which  lay  a  heap  of  crowns, 
tiaras,  cardinals'  hats.  Saint  Peter's  keys,  ermine  man- 
tles, doctors'  caps,  and  titles  of  nobility.  A  royal 
crown  was  among  them,  and  beside  it  the  escutcheons 
of  the  Count  de  Provence,  the  Count  d'Artois,  and 
the  Prince  de  Cond6.  The  organizers  of  the  f^te 
hoped  to  induce  the  King  himself  to  set  fire  to  this 
pile,  covered  with  feudal  emblems.  A  figure  repre- 
senting Liberty,  and  another  representing  Law,  were 
placed  on  casters  by  the  aid  of  which  the  two  divini- 
ties were  to  be  rolled  about.  Fifty-four  pieces  of 
cannon  bordered  the  Champ-de-Mars  on  the  side  next 
the  Seine,  and  the  Phrygian  cap  crowned  every  tree. 


THE  F&TE  OF  THE  FEBEBATION  IN  1792.     251 

At  eleven  in  the  morning  the  King  and  his  cortege 
arrived  at  the  Military  School.  A  detachment  of 
cavalry  opened  the  march.  There  were  three  car- 
riages. In  the  first  were  the  Prince  de  Poix,  the 
Marquis  de  Br^z^,  and  the  Count  de  Saint-Priest ;  in 
the  second,  the  Queen's  ladies,  Mesdames  de  Tarente, 
de  la  Roche- Aymon,  de  Maill^,  and  de  Mackau ;  in 
the  third,  the  King,  the  Queen,  their  two  children,  and 
Madame  Elisabeth.  The  trumpets  sounded  and  the 
drums  beat  a  salute.  A  salvo  of  artillery  announced 
the  arrival  of  the  royal  family.  The  sovereign's 
countenance  was  mild  and  benevolent.  Marie  An- 
toinette appeared  still  more  majestic  than  usual.  The 
dignity  of  her  demeanor,  the  grace  of  her  children, 
and  the  angelic  charm  of  Madame  Elisabeth  inspired 
a  tender  respect.  The  little  Dauphin  wore  the  uni- 
form of  a  National  Guard.  "  He  has  not  deserved  the 
cap  yet,"  said  the  Queen  to  the  grenadiers. 

The  royal  family  took  their  places  on  the  balcony 
of  the  Military  School,' which  was  covered  with  a  red 
velvet  carpet  embroidered  with  gold,  and  watched 
the  popular  procession,  entering  the  Champ-de-Mars 
by  the  gate  of  the  rue  de  Grenelle,  and  marching  tow- 
ards the  Altar  of  the  Country.  What  a  strange  proces- 
sion !  Men,  women,  children,  armed  with  pikes,  sticks, 
and  hatchets;  bands  singing  the  Ca  ira;  drunken 
harlots,  adorned  with  flowers ;  people  from  the  fau- 
bourgs with  the  inscription,  "  Long  live  Potion  !  " 
chalked  on  their  head-gear ;  six  legions  of  National 
Guards  marching  pell-mell  with  the  sans-culottes ;  red 


262  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

caps ;  placards  with  devices  either  ferocious  or  stupid, 
like  this  one:  "Long  live  the  heroes  who  died  in  the 
siege  of  the  Bastille ! "  a  plan  in  relief  of  the  cele- 
brated fortress ;  a  travelling  printing-press  throwing 
off  copies  of  the  revolutionary  manifesto,  which  the 
crowd  at  first  mistook  for  a  little  guillotine  ;  a  great 
deal  of  noise  and  shouting,  —  and  there  you  have  the 
popular  cortege.  By  way  of  compensation,  the  troops 
of  the  line  and  the  grenadiers  of  the  National  Guard 
displayed  extremely  royalist  sentiments.  The  104th 
regiment  of  infantry  having  halted  under  the  balcony, 
its  band  played  the  air :  Oil  peut-on  Stre  mieux  qu'au 
sein  de  safamillef  (Where  is  one  better  off  than  in 
the  bosom  of  liis  family  ?) 

The  moment  when  Louis  XVI.  left  the  Military 
School  to  walk  to  the  Altar  of  the  Country  with  the 
National  Assembly  was  not  without  solemnity.  A 
certain  anxiety  was  felt  by  all  as  to  what  might  hap- 
pen. Would  Louis  XVL  be  struck  by  a  ball  or  by  a 
poniard  ?  What  might  not  be  feared  from  so  many 
demoniacs,  howling  like  cannibals  ?  The  King,  the 
deputies,  the  soldiers,  the  crowd,  all  pressed  against 
each  other  in  a  solid  mass  that  left  no  vacant  spaces ; 
all  was  in  continual  undulation.  Louis  XVI.  could 
only  advance  slowly  and  with  difficulty.  The  inter- 
vention of  the  troops  was  necessary  to  enable  him  to 
reach  the  Altar  of  the  Country,  where  he  was  to  swear 
allegiance  for  the  second  time  to  the  Constitution 
whose  fragments  were  to  overwhelm  his  throne.  "  It 
needed  the  character  of  Louis  XVL,"  Madame  de 


THE   FETE  OF  THE  FEDERATION  IN  1792.     253 

Stael  has  said,  "it  needed  that  martyr  character 
which  he  never  belied,  to  support  such  a  situation  as 
he  did.  His  gait,  his  countenance,  had  something 
peculiar  to  himself;  on  other  occasions  one  might 
have  wished  he  had  more  grandeur;  but  at  this 
moment  it  was  enough  for  him  to  remain  what  he 
was  in  order  to  appear  sublime.  From  a  distance  I 
watched  his  powdered  head  in  the  midst  of  all  those 
black  ones ;  his  coat,  still  embroidered  as  it  had  been 
in  former  days,  stood  out  against  the  costumes  of  the 
common  people  who  pressed  around  him.  When  he 
ascended  the  steps  of  the  altar,  one  seemed  to  behold 
the  sacred  victim  offering  himself  in  voluntary  sacri- 
fice." 

The  Queen  had  remained  on  the  balcony  of  the 
Military  School.  From  there  she  watched  through  a 
lorgnette  the  dangerous  progress  of  the  King.  A 
prey  to  inexpressible  emotion,  she  remained  motionless 
during  an  entire  hour,  hardly  able  to  breathe  on  ac- 
count of  excessive  anguish.  She  used  the  lorgnette 
steadily,  but  at  one  moment  she  cried  out :  "  He  has 
come  down  two  steps !  "  This  cry  made  all  those 
about  her  shudder.  The  King  could  not,  in  fact, 
reach  the  summit  of  the  altar,  because  a  throng  of 
suspicious-looking  persons  had  already  taken  posses- 
sion of  it. 

Deputy  Dumas  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  cry 
out:  "Attention,  Grenadiers!  present  arms!"  The 
intimidated  sans-culottes  remained  quiet,  and  Louis 
XVI.  took  the  oath  amid  the  thundering  of  the  can- 
non ranged  beside  the  Seine. 


264  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTT. 

It  was  then  proposed  to  the  King  that  he  should 
set  fire  to  the  Tree  of  Feudalism ;  it  was  close  to  the 
river  and  the  arms  of  France  were  hung  upon  it. 
Louis  XVI.  spared  himself  that  shame,  exclaiming, 
"There  is  no  more  feudalism ! "  He  returned  to  the 
Military  School  by  the  way  he  came.  The  6th 
legion  of  the  National  Guard  had  not  yet  marched 
past  when  the  cavalry  announced  the  King's  ap- 
proach. This  legion,  quickening  its  pace,  was  inter- 
cepted by  the  royal  escort,  and  invaded,  not  to  say 
routed,  by  the  populace,  which  from  aU  sides  pressed 
into  its  ranks. 

Meanwhile  the  anguish  of  Marie  Antoinette  re- 
doubled. "The  expression  of  the  Queen's  face," 
Madame  de  Stael  says  again,  "  will  never  be  effaced 
from  my  memory.  Her  eyes  were  drowned  in  tears ; 
the  splendor  of  her  toilette,  the  dignity  of  her  de- 
meanor, contrasted  with  the  throng  that  surrounded 
her.  Nothing  separated  her  from  the  populace  but  a 
few  National  Guards;  the  armed  men  assembled  in 
the  Champ-de-Mars  seemed  more  as  if  they  had  come 
together  for  a  riot  than  for  a  festival."  Potion,  who 
had  been  reinstated  in  his  functions  as  mayor  of 
Paris  on  the  previous  day,  was  the  hero  of  the  occa- 
sion. They  called  him  King  Potion,  and  the  cheers 
which  resounded  in  honor  of  this  revolutionist  were 
like  a  funeral  knell  in  the  ears  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

At  last  Louis  XVI.  appeared  in  front  of  the  Mili- 
tary School.  The  Queen  experienced  a  momentary 
loy  in  seeing  him  approach.     Rising  hastily,  she  ran 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  FEDERATION  IN  1792.    255 

down  the  stairs  to  meet  him.  Always  calm,  the  King 
tenderly  clasped  his  wife's  hand.  At  once  royalist  sen- 
timent took  fire.  All  who  were  present  —  National 
Guards,  troops  of  the  line,  Switzers,  people  in  the 
courts,  at  the  windows,  on  balconies  and  gates  —  all 
cried :  "Long  live  the  King !  Long  live  the  Queen !  " 
The  royal  family  regained  the  Tuileries  in  the  midst 
of  acclamations.  At  the  entrance  of  the  palace  en- 
thusiasm deepened.  From  the  Royal  Court  to  the 
great  stairway  of  the  Horloge  Pavilion,  the  grena- 
diers of  the  National  Guard,  who  had  escorted  and 
saved  the  King,  formed  into  line  with  shouts  of  joy. 

"All  former  souvenirs,"  says  the  Count  de  Vau- 
blanc  in  his  Memoirs,  "  all  foi-mer  habits  of  respect 
then  awoke.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  saw  and  observed  this  mul- 
titude; it  was  animated  with  the  best  sentiments; 
at  heart  it  was  faithful  to  its  King  and  crowned  him 
with  sincere  benedictions.  But  do  popular  love  and 
fidelity  afford  any  support  to  a  tottering  throne  ?  He 
is  mad  who  can  think  so.  The  people  will  be  specta- 
tors of  the  latest  combat  and  will  applaud  the  victor. 
And  let  no  one  blame  them !  What  can  they  do  if 
they  are  not  united,  encouraged,  and  led?  The 
people  behold  a  few  seditious  individuals  attack  a 
throne,  and  a  few  courageous  men  defend  it;  they 
fear  one  party  and  desire  the  success  of  the  other. 
When  the  struggle  is  over,  they  submit  and  obey. 
The  most  honest  of  them  weep  in  silence,  the  timid 
force  themselves  to  display  a  guilty  joy  in  order  to 
escape  the  hatred  of  the  victors  whom  they  see  bath- 


256  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

ing  themselves  in  blood.  They  think  about  their 
families,  their  affairs,  their  means  of  support.  They 
were  not  expected  to  lead  themselves  ;  that  duty  was 
imposed  on  others ;  have  they  fulfilled  it  ?  " 

It  is  said  that  during  the  fete  those  who  were 
friendly  to  the  King,  amongst  the  crowd,  were  await- 
ing a  signal  they  expected  from  him.  They  hoped 
that,  by  the  assistance  of  the  Swiss,  they  could  force 
their  way  to  the  royal  family  during  the  confusion 
of  a  hand-to-hand  affray,  and  get  them  safely  out  of 
Paris.  But  Louis  XVI.  neither  spoke  nor  acted.  He 
returned  to  his  palace  without  having  dared  any- 
thing. And,  nevertheless,  there  were  still  many 
chances  of  safety  open.  Imagine  the  effect  of  a 
haughty  bearing,  a  commanding  gesture  in  place  of 
the  inert  attitude  habitual  to  the  unfortunate  sover- 
eign. Fancy  the  Most  Christian  King,  the  heir  of 
Louis  XIV.,  on  horseback,  haranguing  the  people  in 
the  style  of  his  witty  and  valiant  ancestor,  Henry  IV. ! 
He  is  still  King.  The  troops  of  the  line  are  faithful. 
The  great  majority  of  the  National  Guard  are  well- 
disposed  towards  him.  Luckner,  Lafayette,  Dumou- 
riez  himself,  would  ask  nothing  better  than  to  defend 
him  if  he  would  show  a  little  energy. 

The  day  after  the  ceremony  of  July  l4,  Lafayette 
was  still  anxious  that  Louis  XVI.  should  leave  Paris 
openly  and  go  to  Compi^gne,  so  as  to  show  France 
and  Europe  that  he  was  free.  In  case  of  resistance, 
the  general  demanded  only  fifty  loyal  cavaliers  to 
take  the  royal  family  away.  From  Compi^gne,  picked 


THE  FETE  OF  THE  FEDERATION  IN  1792.     257 

squadrons  would  conduct  them  to  the  midst  of  the 
French  army,  the  asylum  of  devotion  and  honor.  But 
Louis  XVI.  refused.  The  last  resources  remaining 
to  him  were  to  evaporate  between  his  hands.  He 
will  profit  neither  by  the  sympathies  of  all  European 
courts,  which  ardently  desire  his  safety ;  by  his  civil 
list,  which  might  be  such  an  efficacious  means  of 
action ;  nor  by  the  loyalty  of  his  brave  soldiers,  who 
are  ready  to  shed  their  last  drop  of  blood  in  his 
defence.  A  large  party  in  the  Legislative  Assembly 
would  ask  nothing  but  a  signal,  providing  it  were 
seriously  given,  to  rally  with  vigor  to  the  royal  cause. 
He  had  intrepid  champions  there  whom  no  menace 
could  affright,  and  who  on  every  occasion,  no  matter 
how  violent  or  tumultuous  the  galleries  might  be, 
had  braved  the  storm  with  heroic  constancy.  Public 
opinion  was  changing  for  the  better.  The  schemes 
and  language  of  the  Jacobins  exasperated  the  mass  of 
honest  people.  The  provinces  were  sending  addresses 
of  fidelity  to  the  King. 

What  was  lacking  to  the  monarch  to  enable  him 
to  combine  so  many  scattered  elements  into  a  solid 
group?  A  little  will,  a  little  of  that  essential  quality, 
audacity,  which,  according  to  Danton,  is  the  last  word 
of  politics.  But  Louis  XVI.  has  a  timorous  soul. 
If  he  makes  one  step  forward,  he  is  in  haste  to  make 
another  back.  He  is  scrupulous,  hesitating ;  he  has 
no  confidence  in  himself  or  any  one  else.  This  prince, 
so  incontestably  courageous,  acts  as  if  he  were  a  cow- 
ard.    He  has  made  so  many  concessions  already  that 


258  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOTALTY. 

the  idea  of  any  manner  of  resistance  seems  to  him 
chimerical.  Does  the  fate  of  Charles  I.  make  him 
dread  the  beginning  of  civil  war  as  the  supreme  dan- 
ger ?  Does  he  fear  to  imperil  the  lives  of  his  wife 
and  children  by  an  energetic  deed?  Is  he  expecting 
foreign  aid  ?  Does  he  think  to  prove  his  wisdom  by 
his  patience,  and  that  success  will  crown  delay  ?  Is 
he  so  benevolent,  so  gentle,  that  the  least  thought  of 
repression  is  repugnant  to  him?  Does  he  wish  to 
carry  to  extremes  that  pardon  of  injuries  which  is 
recommended  by  the  Gospel  ?  What  is  plain  is,  that 
he  rejects  every  firm  resolution. 

Palliatives,  expedients,  half-measures,  were  what 
suited  this  honest  but  feeble  nature.  Distui'bed  by 
contradictory  councils,  and  no  longer  knowing  what 
to  desire  or  what  to  hope,  he  looked  on  at  his  own 
destruction  like  an  unmoved  spectator.  He  was  no 
longer  a  sovereign  full  of  the  sentiment  of  his  power 
and  his  rights,  but  an  almost  unconscious  victim  of 
fatality.  Example  full  of  startling  lessons  for  all 
leaders  of  state  who  adopt  weakness  as  a  system,  and 
who,  under  pretext  of  benevolence  or  moderation,  no 
longer  know  how  to  foresee,  to  will,  or  to  strike ! 


XXV. 

THE  LAST   DAYS   AT  THE  TUILERIES. 

DURING  one  of  the  last  nights  of  July,  at  one 
o'clock,  Madame  Campan  was  alone  near  the 
Queen's  bed,  when  she  heard  some  one  walking  softly 
in  the  adjoining  corridor,  which  was  ordinarily  locked 
at  both  ends.  Madame  Campan  summoned  the  valet- 
de-chambre,  who  went  into  the  corridor ;  presently 
the  noise  of  two  men  fighting  reached  the  ears  of 
Marie  Antoinette.  "  What  a  position  ! "  cried  the 
unfortunate  Queen.  "  Insults  by  day  and  assassins 
by  night !  "  The  valet  cried :  "  Madame,  it  is  a 
scoundrel  whom  I  know;  I  am  holding  him."  —  "Let 
him  go,"  said  the  Queen.  "  Open  the  door  for  him ; 
he  came  to  assassinate  me ;  he  will  be  carried  in 
triumph  by  the  Jacobins  to-morrow." 

People  were  constantly  saying  that  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Antoine  was  getting  ready  to  march  against 
the  palace.  Marie  Antoinette  was  so  badly  guarded, 
and  it  was  so  easy  to  force  an  entrance  to  her  apart- 
ment on  the  ground-floor,  opposite  the  garden,  that 
Madame  de  Tourzel,  her  children's  governess,  begged 
her  to  sleep  in  the  Dauphin's  room  on  the  first  floor. 
The  Queen  was  averse  to  this  step,  as  she  was  im- 

259 


260  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

willing  to  have  any  one  suspect  her  uneasiness.  But 
Madame  de  Tourzel  having  shown  her  that  it  would 
be  easy  to  keep  the  secret  of  tliis  change  by  using  the 
-Dauphin's  private  staircase,  she  ended  by  accepting  the 
proposal  so  long  as  the  trouble  should  last.  She  was  so 
thoughtful  of  all  those  in  her  service  that  it  cost  her 
much  to  incommode  them  in  the  least.  Finally,  she 
consented  to  use  the  bed  of  the  governess,  and  a 
pallet  was  laid  for  the  latter  every  evening. 
Mademoiselle  Pauline  de  Tourzel  slept  on  a  sofa  in 
an  adjoining  closet.  As  no  one  in  the  house  sus- 
pected that  the  Queen  might  have  changed  her 
apartment  for  the  night,  Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her 
daughter  took  precautionary  measures.  When  the 
Queen  had  gone  to  bed,  they  rose,  and  after  making 
sure  that  the  doors  were  locked,  they  shot  the  inside 
bolts.  "  The  closet  I  occupied  served  as  a  passage  for 
the  royal  family  when  they  went  to  supper,"  says 
Mademoiselle  de  Tourzel,  afterwards  Madame  de 
Bdarn,  in  her  Souvenirs  de  Quarante  Ans  ;  "  I  went 
to  bed  early;  sometimes  I  pretended  to  be  asleep 
when  the  Princes  were  passing  through,  and  I  saw 
them  approach  my  sofa,  one  after  another;  I  heard 
their  expressions  of  kindness  and  good  will  toward 
me,  and  noticed  what  care  they  took  not  to  disturb 
my  slumber." 

Poor  Marie  Antoinette  !  Could  one  believe  that  a 
Queen  of  France  would  be  reduced  to  keeping  a 
little  dog  in  her  bedroom  to  warn  her  of  the  least 
noise  in  her  apartment  ?     The  Dauphin,  delighted  to 


THE  LAST  DAYS  AT  THE  TUILERIES.        261 

have  his  mother  sleep  so  near  him,  used  to  run  to  her 
as  soon  as  he  awoke,  and  clasping  her  in  his  little 
arms  would  say  the  most  affectionate  things.  This 
was  the  only  moment  of  the  day  that  brought  her 
any  consolation. 

By  the  end  of  July,  both  the  Queen  and  her 
children  were  obliged  to  give  up  walking  in  the 
garden.  She  had  gone  out  to  take  the  air  with  her 
daughter  in  the  Dauphin's  small  parterre  at  the 
extreme  end  of  the  Tuileries,  close  to  the  Place 
Louis  XV.  Some  federates  grossly  insulted  her. 
Four  Swiss  officers  made  their  way  through  the  crowd, 
and  placing  the  Queen  and  the  young  Princess  be- 
tween them,  brought  them  back  to  the  palace.  When 
she  reached  her  apartments,  Marie  Antoinette  thanked 
her  defenders  in  the  most  affecting  terms,  but  she 
never  went  out  again. 

After  June  20,  the  garden,  excepting  the  terrace  of 
the  Feuillants,  which,  by  a  decree  of  the  Assembly, 
had  become  a  part  of  its  precincts,  had  been  for- 
bidden to  the  populace.  Posters  warned  the  people 
to  remain  on  the  terrace  and  not  go  down  into  the 
garden.  The  terrace  was  called  National  Ground, 
and  the  garden  the  Land  of  Coblentz.  Inscriptions 
apprised  passers-by  of  this  novel  topography.  Tri- 
colored  ribbons  had  been  tied  to  the  banisters  of  the 
staircases  by  way  of  barriers.  Placards  were  fastened 
at  intervals  to  the  trees  bordering  the  terrace,  whereon 
could  be  read :  "  Citizens,  respect  yourselves  ;  give  the 
force  of  bayonets  to  this  feeble  barrier.     Citizens,  do 


262  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

not  go  into  this  foreign  land,  this  Coblentz,  abode  of 
corruption."  The  leaders  had  such  an  empire  over 
the  crowd  that  no  one  disobeyed.  And  yet  it  was 
the  height  of  summer,  the  trees  offered  their  verdant 
shade,  and  the  King  had  withdrawn  all  his  guards 
and  opened  every  gate.  Nobody  dared  infringe  the 
revolutionary  mandate.  One  young  man,  paying  no 
attention,  went  down  into  the  garden.  Furious 
clamors  broke  out  on  all  sides.  "  To  the  lamp-post 
with  him !  "  cried  some  one  on  the  terrace.  There- 
upon the  young  man,  taking  off  his  shoes,  drew  out 
his  handkerchief  and  began  to  wipe  the  dust  from 
their  soles.  People  cried  bravo,  and  he  was  carried 
in  triumph. 

Marie  Antoinette  could  not  become  resigned  to  this 
hatred.  Often  she  frightened  her  women  by  wishing 
to  go  out  of  the  palace  and  address  the  people. 
"Yes,"  she  would  cry,  her  voice  trembling,  as  she 
walked  quickly  to  and  fro  in  her  chamber,  "yes,  I 
will  say  to  them:  Frenchmen,  they  have  had  the 
cruelty  to  persuade  you  that  I  do  not  love  France, 
I,  the  wife  of  its  King  and  the  mother  of  a  Dauphin ! " 
Then,  this  brief  moment  of  generous  exaltation  over, 
the  illusion  of  being  able  to  move  a  nation  of  insul- 
ters  quickly  vanished.  Her  life  was  a  daily,  hourly 
struggle.  The  wife,  the  mother,  the  queen,  never 
ceased  to  contend  against  destiny.  She  hardly  slept 
or  ate ;  but  from  the  very  excess  of  danger  she  drew 
additional  energy,  and  moral  and  material  force. 
As  she  awoke  at  daybreak,  she   required   that   the 


THE  LAST  DAYS  AT  THE  TUILERIES.        263 

shutters  should  not  be  closed,  so  that  her  sleepless 
nights  might  be  sooner  consoled  by  the  light  of 
morning.  The  most  widely  diverse  sentiments  occu- 
pied her  soul.  A  captive  in  her  palace,  she  some- 
times believed  herself  irrevocably  condemned  by 
fate,  and  sometimes  hoped  for  deliverance. 

Toward  the  middle  of  one  of  the  last  nights  pre- 
ceding the  10th  of  August,  the  moon  shone  into 
her  bedchamber.  "  In  a  month,"  she  said  to  Madame 
Campan,  "  I  shall  not  see  that  moon  unless  I  am 
freed  from  my  chains."  But  she  was  not  free  from 
anxiety  concerning  all  that  might  happen  before  that. 
"  The  King  is  not  a  poltroon,"  she  added ;  "  he  has 
very  great  passive  courage,  but  he  is  crushed  by  a 
false  shame,  a  doubt  of  himself,  which  arises  from  his 
education  quite  as  much  as  from  his  character.  He 
is  afraid  of  commanding ;  he  dreads  above  everything 
to  speak  to  assemblages  of  men.  He  lived  uneasily 
and  like  a  child,  under  the  eyes  of  Louis  XV.  until 
he  was  twenty,  and  this  constraint  has  had  an  effect 
on  his  timidity.  In  our  circumstances,  a  few  clearly 
spoken  words  addressed  to  the  Parisians  who  are 
devoted  to  us  would  immensely  strengthen  our  party, 
but  he  will  not  say  them."  Then  Marie  Antoinette 
explained  why  she  did  not  put  herself  forward  more : 
"  For  my  part,"  said  she,  "  I  could  act,  and  mount  a 
horse  if  need  were ;  but,  if  I  acted,  it  would  put 
weapons  into  the  hands  of  King's  enemies ;  a  general 
outcry  would  be  raised  in  France  against  the  Aus- 
trian woman,  against  female  domination;  moreover, 


264  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

-\ 

I  should  reduce  the  King  to  nothingness  by  showing 
myself.  A  queen  who  is  not  regent  must  in  such 
circumstances  remain  inactive  and  prepare  to  die." 

The  danger  constantly  increased.  At  four  in  the 
morning  of  one  of  the  last  days  of  July,  warning  was 
given  at  the  palace  that  the  faubourgs  were  threat- 
ening, and  would  doubtless  march  against  the  Tuile- 
ries.  Madame  Campan  went  very  softly  into  the 
Queen's  room.  For  a  wonder,  Marie  Antoinette 
was  sleeping  peacefully  and  profoundly.  Madame 
Campan  did  not  rouse  her.  "  You  were  right,"  said 
Louis  XVI. ;  "  it  is  good  to  see  her  take  a  little  rest. 
Oh !  her  griefs  redouble  mine !  "  At  her  waking  the 
Queen,  on  being  informed  of  what  had  passed,  began 
to  weep,  and  said:  "Why  was  I  not  called?"  Ma- 
dame Campan  excused  herself  by  saying :  "  It  was 
only  a  false  alarm.  Your  Majesty  needed  to  repair 
your  prostrate  strength."  — "  It  is  not  prostrate," 
quickly  replied  the  courageous  sovereign ;  "  misfor- 
tune makes  it  all  the  greater.  Elisabeth  was  with 
the  King,  and  I  was  sleeping !  I,  who  wish  to  perish 
beside  him  !  I  am  his  wife ;  I  am  not  willing  that  he 
should  incur  the  least  danger  without  me  !  " 

On  Sunday,  August  5,  —  the  last  Sunday  the  royal 
family  were  to  spend  at  the  Tuileries,  —  as  they  were 
going  to  the  chapel  to  hear  Mass,  half  the  National 
Guards  on  duty  cried :  "  Long  live  the  King ! "  The 
others  said:  "No,  no;  no  King,  down  with  the 
veto  ! "  The  same  day,  at  Vespers,  the  chanters  had 
agreed  to  swell  their  tones  greatly,  and  in  a  menac- 


THE  LAST  BATS  AT  THE  TUILERIES.        265 

ing  way,  when  reciting  this  versicle  of  the  Magnifi- 
cat :  Deposuit  potentes  de  sede  —  "  He  hath  put  down 
the  mighty  from  their  seat."  In  their  turn  the  royal- 
ists, after  the  Dominum  salvumfac  regem^  cried  thrice, 
turning  as  they  did  so  toward  the  Queen :  Et  regi- 
nam.  There  was  a  continual  murmuring  all  through 
the  divine  office.  Five  days  later,  the  same  chapel 
was  to  be  a  pool  of  blood. 

And  yet  Madame  Elisabeth,  always  calm  and 
always  angelic,  still  had  illusions.  One  morning  of 
this  terrible  month  of  August,  while  in  her  room  in  the 
Pavilion  of  Flora,  she  thought  she  heard  some  one 
humming  her  favorite  air,  Pauvre  Jacques,  beneath 
her  windows.  Attracted  by  this  refrain,  which  in 
the  midst  of  sorrow  renewed  the  souvenir  of  happier 
times,  she  half  opened  her  window  and  listened  at- 
tentively. The  words  sung  were  not  those  of  the 
ballad  she  loved,  yet  they  were  royalist  in  sentiment 
and  adapted  to  the  same  air.  The  poor  people  had 
been  substituted  for  poor  Jack  —  the  poor  people 
who  were  pitied  for  having  a  king  no  longer  and  for 
knowing  nothing  but  wretchedness.  Such  marks  of 
attachment  consoled  the  virtuous  Princess,  and  made 
her  hope  against  all  hope.  She  wrote,  August  8,  to 
her  friend  Madame  de  Raigecourt :  "  They  say  that 
the  King  is  going  to  be  turned  out  of  here  somewhat 
forcibly,  and  made  to  lodge  in  the  H8tel-de-Ville. 
They  say  that  there  will  be  a  very  strong  movement 
to  that  effect  in  Paris.  Do  you  believe  it  ?  For  my 
part,  I  do  not.     I  believe  in  rumors,  but  not  in  their 


266  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

resulting  in  anything.  That  is  my  profession  of 
faith.  For  the  rest,  everything  is  perfectly  quiet 
to-day.  Yesterday  passed  in  the  same  way,  and  I 
think  this  one  will  be  like  it."  On  August  9,  the 
eve  of  the  fatal  day,  Madame  Elisabeth  again  ad- 
dressed a  reassuring  letter  to  one  of  her  friends, 
Madame  de  Bombelles.  Curiously  enough  she  dated 
this  letter  August  10,  no  doubt  by  accident,  and 
when  Madame  de  Bombelles  received  it,  she  read 
these  lines,  which  seem  like  the  irony  of  fate :  "  This 
day  of  the  10th,  which  was  to  have  been  so  exciting, 
so  terrible,  is  as  calm  as  possible ;  the  Assembly  has 
decreed  neither  deposition  nor  suspension." 


XXVI. 

THE  PkOLOGUB  to  THE  TENTH   OF  AUGUST. 

THE  first  rumblings  of  the  storm  began.  People 
quarrelled  and  fought  in  the  Palais  Royal,  the 
caf^s,  and  the  theatres.  Half  of  the  National  Guard 
sided  with  the  court,  and  the  other  half  with  the  peo- 
ple. To  seditious  speeches  were  added  songs  full  of 
insults  to  the  King  and  Queen.  These  songs,  sold 
on  every  corner,  applauded  in  every  tavern,  and 
repeated  by  the  wives  and  children  of  the  people, 
propagated  revolutionary  fury.  There  was  a  con- 
stant succession  of  gatherings,  brawls,  and  riots. 
The  Assembly  had  declared  the  country  in  danger. 
Rumors  of  every  sort  excited  popular  imagination. 
It  was  said  that  priests  who  refused  the  oath  were 
in  hiding  at  the  Tuileries,  which  was,  moreover,  full 
of  arms  and  munitions.  The  Duke  of  Brunswick's 
manifesto  exasperated  national  sentiment.  It  was 
read  aloud  in  every  street.  The  leaders  neglected 
nothing  likely  to  excite  the  populace,  and  prepared 
their  last  attack  on  the  throne,  their  afterpiece  of 
June  20,  with  as  much  audacity  as  skill. 

In  order  to  subdue  the  court,  it  was  necessary  to 
destroy  its  only  remaining  means  of  defence.     To 

267 


268  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

leave  plenty  of  elbow-room  for  the  riot,  the  Assem- 
bly, on  July  15,  ordered  the  troops  of  the  line  to  be 
sent  some  thirty-five  miles  beyond  Paris  and  kept 
there.  A  singular  means  was  devised  for  breaking 
up  the  choice  troops  of  the  National  Guard,  who 
were  royalists.  They  were  told  that  it  was  contrary 
to  equality  for  certain  citizens  to  be  more  brilliantly 
equipped  than  others ;  that  a  bearskin  cap  humiliated 
those  who  were  entitled  only  to  a  felt  one ;  and  that 
there  was  a  something  aristocratic  about  the  name  of 
grenadier  which  was  really  intolerable  to  a  simple 
fooi>soldier.  The  choice  troops  were  dissolved  in 
consequence,  and  the  grenadiers  came  to  the  Assem- 
bly like  good  patriots  to  lay  down  their  epaulettes 
and  bearskin  caps  and  assume  the  red  cap.  On 
July  30,  the  National  Guard  was  reconstructed,  by 
taking  in  all  the  vagabonds  and  bandits  that  the 
clubs  could  muster. 

The  famous  federates  of  Marseilles,  who  were  to 
take  such  an  active  part  in  the  coming  insurrection, 
arrived  in  Paris  the  same  day.  The  Girondins,  hav- 
ing failed  to  obtain  their  camp  of  twenty  thousand 
men  before  Paris,  had  devised  instead  of  it  a  reunion 
of  federate  volunteers,  summoned  from  every  part  of 
France.  The  roads  were  at  once  thronged  by  future 
rioters  whom  the  Assembly  allowed  thirty  cents  a 
day. 

The  Jacobins  of  Brest  and  Marseilles  distinguished 
themselves.  Instead  of  a  handful  of  volunteers  they 
sent  two  battalions.     That  of  Marseilles,  recruited  by 


PROLOGUE  TO   THE  TENTH  OF  AUGUST.     269 

Barbaroux,  comprised  five  hundred  men  and  two 
pieces  of  artillery.  Starting  July  5,  it  entered  Paris 
July  30.  Excited  to  fanaticism  by  the  sun  and  the 
declamations  of  the  southern  clubs,  it  had  run  over 
France,  been  received  under  triumphal  arches,  and 
chanted  in  a  sort  of  frenzy  the  terrible  stanzas  of 
Rouget  de  I'lsle's  new  hymn,  the  Marseillaise.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  Blanc  Gilli,  deputy  from  the 
Bouches  du  Rhone  department  to  the  Legislative 
Assembly,  wrote :  "  These  pretended  Marseillais  are 
the  scum  of  the  jails  of  Genoa,  Piedmont,  Sicily,  and 
of  all  Italy,  Spain,  the  Archipelago,  and  Barbary.  I 
run  across  them  every  day."  Rouget  de  I'lsle  re- 
ceived from  his  old  mother,  a  royalist  and  Catholic 
at  heart,  a  letter  in  which  she  said:  "What  is  this 
revolutionary  hymn  which  a  horde  of  brigands  are 
singing  as  they  pass  through  France,  and  in  which 
your  name  is  mixed  up  ? "  At  Paris  the  accents  of 
that  terrible  melody  sounded  like  strokes  of  the  toc- 
sin. The  men  who  sang  it  filled  the  conservatives 
with  terror.  They  wore  woollen  cockades  and  in- 
sulted as  aristocrats  those  who  wore  silk  ones. 

There  was  no  longer  any  dike  to  the  torrent. 
August  1,  Louis  XVI.  nominated  a  cabinet  composed 
of  loyal  men :  Joly  was  Minister  of  Justice ;  Champion 
de  Villeneuve,  of  the  Interior;  Bigot  de  Sainte-Croix, 
of  Foreign  Affairs;  Du  Bouchage,  of  the  Marine; 
Leroux  de  la  Ville,  of  Public  Taxes ;  and  D'Aban- 
court,  of  War.  But  this  ministry  was  to  last  only 
ten  days.     Certain  petitioners  at  the  bar  of  the  As- 


270  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

sembly  asked  for  the  deposition  of  the  King  in  most 
violent  language.  "  This  measure,"  says  Barbaroux 
in  his  Memoirs,  "would  have  carried  Philippe  of 
Orleans  to  the  regency,  and  therefore  his  party  vio- 
lently clamored  for  it.  His  creditors,  his  hirelings, 
and  boon-companions,  Marat  and  his  Cordeliers,  all 
manner  of  swindlers  and  insolvent  debtors,  thronged 
public  places  and  incited  to  this  deposition  because 
they  were  hungry  for  money  and  positions  under  a 
regent  who  was  their  tool  and  their  accomplice." 

In  vain  did  Louis  XVI.  display  those  sentiments 
of  paternal  kindness  which  had  hitherto  availed  him 
so  little.  August  3,  he  sent  a  message  to  the  Assem- 
bly, in  which  he  said :  "  I  will  uphold  national  inde- 
pendence to  my  latest  breath.  Personal  dangers  are 
nothing  compared  to  public  ones.  Oh!  what  are 
personal  dangers  to  a  King  whom  men  are  seeking  to 
deprive  of  his  people's  love  ?  This  is  the  real  plague- 
spot  in  my  heart.  Perhaps  the  people  will  some  day 
know  how  dear  their  welfare  is  to  me.  How  many 
of  my  sorrows  could  be  obliterated  by  the  least  evi- 
dence of  a  return  to  right  feeling ! " 

How  did  they  respond  to  this  conciliatory  lan- 
guage? After  it  had  been  read.  Potion,  the  mayor 
of  Paris,  presented  himself  at  the  bar,  and  read  an 
address  from  the  Council  General  of  the  Commune, 
in  which  these  words  occur :  "  The  chief  of  the  exec- 
utive power  is  the  first  link  of  the  counter-revolution- 
ary chain.  .  .  .  Through  a  lingering  forbearance, 
we  would  have  desired  the  power  to  ask  you  for  the 


PROLOGUE  TO   THE   TENTH  OF  AUGUST.     271 

suspension  of  Louis  XVI.,  but  to  this  the  Constitu- 
tion is  opposed.  Louis  XVI.  incessantly  inv^okes  the 
Constitution  ;  we  invoke  it  in  our  turn,  and  ask  you 
for  his  deposition."  The  next  day  the  municipality 
distributed  five  thousand  ball  cartridges  to  the  Mar- 
seillais,  while  refusing  any  to  the  National  Guards. 

Nevertheless,  the  Girondins  still  hesitated.  Gua- 
det,  Vergniaud,  and  Gensonn^  would  have  declared 
themselves  satisfied  if  the  three  ministers  belonging 
to  their  party  had  been  reinstated,  and  on  July  29 
they  secretly  despatched  a  letter  to  the  sovereign,  by 
Thierry,  his  valet-de-chambre,  in  which  they  said  that, 
"  attached  to  the  interests  of  the  nation,  they  would 
never  separate  them  from  those  of  the  King  except 
in  so  far  as  he  separated  them  himself."  As  to  Bar- 
baroux,  like  a  true  visionary,  he  dreamed  of  I  know 
not  what  rose-water  insurrection.  "  They  should  not 
have  entered  the  apartments  of  the  palace,"  he  has ' 
said,  "but  merely  blockaded  them.  Had  this  plan 
been  followed,  the  blood  of  Frenchmen  and  Swiss, 
ignorant  victims  of  court  perfidy,  would  not  have 
J)een  shed  on  the  10th  of  August,  the  republic  would 
have  been  founded  without  convulsions  or  massacres, 
and  we,  corroded  by  popular  gangrene,  should  not 
have  become  the  horror  of  all  nations."  The  dema- 
gogues were  not  at  all  certain  of  success.  Robes- 
pierre was  to  spend  the  10th  of  August  in  the  discreet 
darkness  of  a  cellar.  Danton  was  prudently  to  await 
the  end  of  the  combat  before  arming  himself  with  a 
big  sabre  and  marching  at  the  head  of  the  Marseilles 


272  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

battalion  as  the  hero  of  the  day.  Barbaroux  says  in 
his  Memoirs  that  on  the  1st,  3d,  and  7th  of  August, 
Marat  implored  him  to  take  him  to  Marseilles,  and 
that  on  the  evening  of  the  9th  he  renewed  this 
prayer  more  urgently  than  ever,  adding  that  he  would 
disguise  himself  as  a  jockey  in  order  to  get  away. 

In  spite  of  their  many  weaknesses,  the  majority  of 
the  Assembly  were  royalists  and  constitutionalists 
still.  The  proof  is  that  on  August  8,  in  spite  of  the 
violent  menaces  of  the  galleries,  they  decided  by  406 
against  244  votes,  that  there  was  no  occasion  to  im- 
peach Lafayette,  so  abhorred  by  the  Jacobins.  This 
vote  excited  the  wrath  of  the  revolutionists  to  fury. 
The  conservative  deputies  were  insulted,  pursued, 
and  struck.  Several  of  them  barely  escaped  assassi- 
nation. The  sessions  became  stormier  from  day  to 
day.  Not  only  were  the  large  galleries  of  the  As- 
sembly overthronged  by  violent  crowds,  but  the 
courtyards,  the  approaches,  and  the  corridors  were 
obstructed.  Many  sat  or  stood  on  the  exterior  entab- 
latures of  the  high  windows.  The  upper  part  of  the 
hall,  where  the  Jacobins  sat,  received  many  strangers, 
in  spite  of  the  often-reiterated  opposition  of  the  right. 
Below  this  Mountain  sat  the  members  of  the  centre, 
the  Ventrus.  There  were  not  seats  enough  for  them, 
and  they  were  crowded  up  in  a  ridiculous  manner. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  hall,  almost  entirely  deserted, 
were  the  forty-four  members  of  the  right.  They  were 
easily  marked  and  counted  by  their  future  execution- 
ers, who  threatened  them  by  voice  and  gesture.    Every 


PROLOGUE  TO   THE  TENTH  OF  AUGUST.     273 

day  the  petitioners  who  were  admitted  to  the  honors 
of  the  session  avoided  the  empty  benches  of  the  right 
and  seated  themselves  with  the  Mountain  or  the 
centre,  where  they  crowded  still  more  the  already 
overcrowded  deputies.  The  discussions  were  like 
formidable  tempests.  "  The  effect  produced  by  such 
a  spectacle,"  says  Count  de  Vaublanc  in  his  Memoirs, 
"  was  still  greater  on  those  who  entered  the  hall 
during  one  of  those  terrible  moments.  I  received 
this  impression  several  times  myself,  and  it  will  never 
be  effaced  from  my  mind ;  I  seek  vainly  for  expres- 
sions by  which  to  describe  it.  Long  afterwards,  M. 
de  Caux,  then  Minister  of  War,  said  to  me :  'You 
made  the  profoundest  impression  on  me  which  I  ever 
received  in  my  life.  I  was  young  at  the  time.  I 
entered  the  galleries  just  as  you  were  standing  out 
against  the  furious  shouts  of  a  part  of  the  deputies 
and  the  people  in  the  galleries.'  " 

Meanwhile  the  end  was  approaching.  Faithful 
royalists  still  proposed  schemes  of  flight  to  Louis 
XVI.  Bertrand  de  Molleville,  who  is  so  ill  disposed 
toward  Madame  de  Stael,  says  concerning  this : 
"  There  was  nobody,  even  to  Madame  de  Stael,  who, 
either  in  the  hope  of  being  pardoned  the  injury  her 
intrigues  had  done  the  King,  or  else  through  her  con- 
tinual need  of  intrigue,  had  not  invented  some  plan 
of  escape  for  His  Majesty."  Louis  XVI.  declined 
them  all.  He  would  owe  nothing  to  Lafayette.  He 
relied  on  the  money  he  had  given  to  Danton  and 
other  demagogues,  and  hoped  that  the  insurrection- 


274  TBE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

ary  bands  would  be  repulsed  by  the  royalists  of  the 
National  Guard  and  the  Swiss  regiment.  August 
8th,  in  the  evening,  this  fine  regiment  left  its  Cour- 
bevoie  barracks  and  arrived  at  the  Tuileries  at  day- 
break next  morning.  Under  various  idle  pretexts  it 
had  been  deprived  of  its  twelve  pieces  of  artillery, 
and  also  of  thi"ee  hundred  men  who  had  been  given 
the  commission,  true  or  false  as  may  be,  to  watch  over 
the  transportation  of  corn  in  Normandy.  Only  seven 
hundred  and  fifty,  officers  and  soldiers,  remained ;  but 
all  of  them  had  said :  "  We  will  let  ourselves  be 
killed  to  the  last  man  rather  than  fail  in  honor  or 
betray  the  sanctity  of  our  oaths."  In  company  with 
a  handful  of  noblemen,  these  were  to  be  the  last  de- 
fenders of  the  throne.  The  fatal  hour  was  approach- 
ing. The  section  of  the  Cordeliers  had  decided  that 
if  the  Assembly  had  not  pronounced  the  King's  depo- 
sition by  the  evening  of  August  9th,  the  drums  should 
beat  the  general  alarm  at  the  stroke  of  midnight,  and 
the  insurrection  march  against  the  Tuileries.  The 
revolutionists  were  to  carry  out  their  plan,  and  the 
Swiss  to  keep  their  word. 


XXVII. 

THE  NIGHT   OF   AUGUST  NINTH  TO  TENTH. 

THE  night  was  serene,  the  sky  clear  and  sown  with 
stars.  The  calmness  of  nature  contrasted  with 
the  revolutionary  passions  that  had  been  unchained. 
On  account  of  the  heat,  all  the  windows  of  the  Tui- 
leries  had  been  left  open,  and  from  a  distance  the  pal- 
ace could  be  seen  illuminated  as  if  for  a  fete.  It  had 
just  struck  midnight.  The  Revolution  was  executing 
the  programme  of  the  Cordeliers'  section.  The  tocsin 
was  sounding  all  over  the  city.  Everybody  named 
the  church  whose  bell  he  thought  he  recognized.  The 
people  of  the  faubourgs  were  out  of  bed  in  their 
houses.  The  drums  mingled  with  the  tocsin.  The 
revolutionists  beat  the  general  alarm,  and  the  royal- 
ists the  call  to  arms. 

No  one  was  asleep  at  the  Tuileries.  There  was  no 
further  question  of  etiquette.  The  night  reception 
in  the  royal  bedchamber  was  omitted  for  the  first 
time.  Certain  old  servitors,  faithful  guardians  of 
tradition,  in  vain  recalled  that  it  was  not  permissible 
to  sit  down  in  the  sovereign's  apartments.  The  cour- 
tiers of  the  last  hour  seated  themselves  in  armchairs, 
on  tables  and  consoles.     Louis  XVI.  stayed  sometimes 

275 


276  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

in  his  chamber  and  sometimes  in  his  Great  Cabinet, 
also  called  the  Council  Hall,  where  the  assembled 
ministers  received  constant  tidings  of  what  was  hap- 
pening without.  The  pious  monarch  had  summoned 
his  confessor,  Abbe  Hubert,  and  shutting  himself  up 
with  this  venerable  priest,  he  besought  from  Heaven 
the  resignation  and  courage  he  needed  to  pass  through 
the  final  crisis.  Madame  Elisabeth  showed  the  faith- 
ful Madame  Campan  the  carnelian  pin  which  fastened 
her  fichu.  These  words,  surrounding  the  stalk  of  a 
lily,  were  engraved  on  it :  "  Forget  ofiFences,  pardon 
injuries."  —  "  I  fear  much,"  said  the  virtuous  Princess, 
"that  this  maxim  has  little  influence  over  our  ene- 
mies, but  it  must  be  none  the  less  dear  to  us."  Louis 
XVI.  did  not  wear  his  padded  vest.  "  I  consented  to 
do  so  on  the  14th  of  July,"  said  he,  "because  on  that 
day  I  was  merely  going  to  a  ceremony  where  an  assas- 
sin's dagger  might  be  apprehended.  But  on  a  day 
when  my  party  may  be  forced  to  fight  with  the  revo- 
lutionists, I  should  think  it  cowardly  to  preserve  my 
life  by  such  means." 

Marie  Antoinette  was  grave  and  tranquil  in  her 
heroism.  There  was  nothing  affected  about  her, 
nothing  theatrical,  neither  passion,  despair,  nor  the 
spirit  of  revenge.  According  to  the  expressions  of 
Rcederer,  who  never  left  her,  "  she  was  a  woman,  a 
mother,  a  wife  in  peril;  she  feared,  she  hoped,  she 
grieved,  and  she  took  heart  again."  She  was  also  a 
queen,  and  the  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa.  Her 
anxiety  and  grief  were  restrained  or  concealed  by 


THE  NIGHT  OF  AUGUST  NINTH  TO  TENTH.      277 

her  respect  for  lier  rank,  her  dignity,  and  her  name. 
When  she  reappeared  amidst  the  courtiers  in  the 
Council  Hall,  after  having  dissolved  in  tears  in 
Thierry's  room,  the  redness  of  her  cheeks  and  eyes 
had  disappeared.  The  courtiers  said  to  each  other : 
"  What  serenity  !  what  courage  !" 

The  struggle  might  still  seem  doubtful.  Some- 
thing like  two  hundred  noblemen  who  had  spontane- 
ously repaired  to  the  King,  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
Swiss,  and  nine  hundred  mounted  gendarmes  posted 
at  the  approaches  of  the  Tuileries  were  the  last 
resources  of  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  French 
army.  The  Swiss,  who  through  some  one's  extreme 
imprudence  had  not  cartridges  enough,  were  posted 
in  the  apartments,  the  chapel,  and  at  the  entry  of 
the  Royal  Court.  Baron  de  Salis,  as  the  oldest  cap- 
tain of  the  regiment,  commanded  at  the  stairways. 
A  reserve  of  three  hundred  men,  under  Captain 
Durler,  was  stationed  in  the  Swiss  Court,  before  the 
Pavilion  of  Marsan.  The  National  Guards  belong- 
ing to  the  sections  Petits-Peres  and  the  Filles-Saint- 
TTiomas  showed  themselves  well  disposed  toward  the 
King ;  but  it  was  different  with  the  other  companies. 
As  to  the  mounted  gendarmes,  Louis  XVI.  could  not 
count  on  them,  and  before  the  riot  ended  they  were 
to  join  the  insurgents  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  made 
by  their  royalist  officers.  The  artillerists  of  the 
National  Guard,  charged  with  serving  the  cannons 
placed  in  the  courts  and  before  the  palace  doors  to 
defend  the  entry,  were  to  act  in  the  same  manner. 


278  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 

Like  the  Swiss,  the  two  hundred  noblemen,  martyrs 
to  the  old  French  ideas  of  honor,  had  resolved  to  be 
loyal  unto  death.  With  their  silk  coats  and  drawing- 
room  swords,  they  seemed  as  if  they  had  come  to  a 
f^te  instead  of  a  combat.  The  servants  of  the 
chateau  joined  them.  Some  of  them  had  pistols  and 
blunderbusses.  Some,  for  lack  of  other  weapons, 
had  taken  the  tongs  from  the  chimneys.  They  jested 
with  each  other  over  their  accoutrements.  No,  no ; 
there  was  nothing  laughable  in  these  champions  of 
misfortune.  They  represented  the  past,  with  its 
ancient  fidelity  to  the  altar  and  the  throne.  A  great 
poet  who  had  the  spirit  of  divination,  Heinrich 
Heine,  wrote  on  November  12,  1840,  as  if  he  foresaw 
February  24, 1848  :  "  The  middle  classes  will  possibly 
make  less  resistance  than  the  aristocracy  would  do  in 
a  similar  case.  Even  in  its  most  pitiable  weakness, 
its  enervation  by  immorality  and  its  degeneration 
through  flattery,  the  old  nobility  was  still  alive  to 
a  certain  point  of  honor  unknown  to  our  middle 
classes,  who  have  become  prosperous  by  industry,  but 
who  will  perish  by  it  also.  Another  10th  of  August 
is  predicted  for  these  middle  classes  ;  but  I  doubt 
whether  the  industrial  Knights  of  the  throne  of  July 
will  prove  themselves  as  heroic  as  the  powdered 
marquises  of  the  old  regime  who,  in  silk  coats  and 
flimsy  dress  swords,  opposed  the  people  who  invaded 
the  Tuileries."  The  greater  part  of  these  noblemen, 
volunteers  for  the  last  conflict,  were  old  men  with 
white  hair.     There  were  also  children  among  them. 


THE  NIGHT  OF  AUGUST  NINTH  TO  TENTH.      279 

M.  Mortimer-Ternaux,  author  of  the  Mistoire  de  la 
Terreur^  has  remarked :  "  Was  not  this  a  time  to 
exclaim  with  Racine  :  — 

"  '  See  what  avengers  arm  themselves  for  the  quarrel?' 

"  Who  could  have  told  Louis  XIV.,  when  in  the 
midst  of  the  splendors  of  his  court  he  was  present  at 
the  performance  of  Athalie,,  that  the  poet  was  predict- 
ing, through  the  mouth  of  Joad,  the  fate  reserved  for 
his  great-grandson  ?  "  The  royalist  National  Guards 
who  were  in  the  apartments  considered  the  volunteer 
noblemen  as  companions  in  arms.  They  shook  hands 
with  each  other  amid  cries  of  "  Long  live  the  King ! 
Long  live  the  National  Guard !  "  But  the  troops 
outside  did  not  share  these  sentiments.  Jealous  of 
the  royalists  assembled  in  the  palace,  they  wanted  to 
have  them  sent  out.  A  regimental  commander  hav- 
ing come  to  make  known  this  desire  to  Louis  XVI., 
Marie  Antoinette  exclaimed :  "  Nothing  can  separate 
us  from  these  gentlemen ;  they  are  our  most  faithful 
friends.  They  will  share  the  dangers  of  the  National 
Guard.  They  will  obey  us.  Put  them  at  the 
cannon's  mouth,  and  they  will  show  you  how  men  die 
for  their  Kmg." 

Meantime  what  had  become  of  Potion,  whose  busi- 
ness it  was,  as  mayor,  to  defend  the  palace  ?  Sum- 
moned to  the  Tuileries,  he  arrived  there  at  eleven  in 
the  evening.  As  Louis  XVI.  said  to  him :  "  It 
seems  there  is  a  great  deal  of  commotion  ?  "  —  "  Yes, 
sire,"  he  replied,  "  the  excitement  is  great."     And  he 


280  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

enlarged  upon  the  measures  he  claimed  that  he  had 
taken,  and  his  pretended  haste  to  wait  upon  the 
King.  In  going  out,  he  came  face  to  face  with  M. 
de  Mandat,  who,  as  general-in-chief  of  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  was  in  command  of  all  military  forces. 
"  Why,"  exclaimed  he,  "  have  the  police  refused 
cartridges  to  the  National  Guard  when  they  have 
wasted  them  on  the  Marseillais  ?  My  men  have  only 
four  charges  apiece ;  some  of  them  have  not  one.  No 
matter;  I  answer  for  everything;  my  measures  are 
taken,  providing  I  am  authorized,  by  an  order  signed 
by  you,  to  repel  force  by  force."  Not  daring  to  avow 
his  complicity  with  the  riot,  Petion  signed  the  order 
demanded.  Then  he  made  his  escape  under  pretext 
of  inspecting  the  gardens,  and  fell  amongst  some  roy- 
alist National  Guards,  who  reprimanded  him  severely. 
He  began  to  fear  being  kept  at  the  Tuileries  as  a 
hostage,  to  guarantee  the  palace  against  the  attempts 
of  the  populace,  and  went  to  the  Assembly.  It  had 
adjourned  at  ten  o'clock  the  evening  before,  but  on 
account  of  the  crisis  had  met  again  at  two  in  the 
morning.  The  Assembly  knew  the  gravity  of  the 
danger  as  well  as  the  King  did ;  but  through  a  ridic- 
ulous and  culpable  point  of  honor,  it  affected  not  to 
recognize  it,  and  devoted  to  the  reading  of  a  colonial 
report  the  moments  it  should  have  employed  in 
saving  that  Constitution  it  had  sworn  to  maintain. 
Petion  merely  put  in  an  appearance  in  the  Hall  of 
the  Manage.  But  he  took  good  care  not  to  return  to 
the  Tuileries.     At  half-past  three  in  the  morning  the 


THE  NIGHT  OF  AUGUST  NINTH  TO  TENTH.       281 

rolling  of  a  carriage  was  heard  from  the  palace.  It 
was  that  of  the  mayor,  going  back  empty.  He  had 
not  dared  to  get  into  it,  and  had  only  sent  his  coach- 
man an  order  to  return  when  he  found  himself  in 
safety  at  the  mayoralty,  whither  he  had  made  his 
way  on  foot. 

Meanwhile,  some  hundred  unknown  individuals, 
who  gathered  at  the  H8tel-de-Ville,  and  surrepti- 
tiously made  their  way  into  one  of  the  halls,  had 
formed  an  insurrectionary  Commune.  On  their  own 
authority  they  appointed  commissaries  of  sections, 
and  dismissed  the  staff  of  the  National  Guard,  who 
were  very  much  in  their  way ;  hilt  retained  in  office 
Manuel  as  procurator  and  Potion  as  mayor.  This  new 
municipality,  whose  very  existence  was  unknown  at 
the  palace,  had  just  learned  that  Mandat,  general-in- 
chief  of  the  National  Guard,  had  a  document  in  his 
pocket  by  which  Potion  authorized  him  to  oppose 
force  to  force.  It  was  necessary  to  get  rid  of  this 
document  at  any  cost.  The  municipality  sent  Man- 
dat an  order  to  come  to  the  HStel-de-Ville.  He 
knew  nothing  about  the  revolution  that  had  just 
taken  place  there.  And  yet  he  hesitated  to  obey. 
A  secret  presentiment  took  possession  of  his  soul. 
Finally,  at  the  instance  of  Rcederer,  he  decided, 
towards  five  in  the  morning,  to  leave  the  Tuileries 
and  go  to  that  H6tel-de-Ville,  which  was  to  be  so 
fatal  to  him.  When  he  came  before  the  municipality 
he  was  surprised  to  see  new  faces. 

He  was  accused  of  having  intended  to  disperse  "  the 


282  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOTALTT. 

innocent  and  patriotic  column  of  the  people,^  and 
sentenced  to  be  taken  to  the  Abbey  prison.  It  was  a 
sentence  of  death.  Mandat.  was  massacred  on  the 
steps  of  the  H6tel-de-Ville.  A  pistol-shot  brought 
him  down.  Pikes  and  sabres  finished  him.  His 
body  was  thrown  into  the  Seine.  Such  was  the  first 
exploit  of  the  new  Commune.  It  preluded  thus  the 
massacres  of  September.  "  Mandat's  death,"  says 
Count  de  Vaublanc  in  his  Memoirs,  "was,  beyond 
any  doubt,  the  chief  cause  of  the  calamities  of  the 
day.  If  he  had  attacked  the  rebels  as  soon  as  they 
came  near  the  palace,  he  could  have  dispersed  them 
with  ease.  They  took  a  long  time  to  form  and  set 
off;  and,  being  undecided  and  uneasy,  they  often 
halted.  No  troop  marching  from  a  given  point  in 
this  immense  city  knew  whether  it  was  seconded  by 
the  rebels  from  other  quarters,  and  lost  much  time  in 
making  sure."  The  second  exploit  of  the  Commune 
was  to  confine  Potion  at  the  mayoralty  under  the 
guard  of  six  men.  A  voluntary  captive,  this  accom- 
plice of  the  insurrection  rejoiced  at  a  measure  which 
sheltered  him  from  every  danger.  As  M.  Mortimer- 
Ternaux  has  observed :  "  On  this  fatal  night,  when 
the  passion  of  the  royalty  was  fulfilled.  Potion 
doubled  the  parts  of  Judas  and  Pontius  Pilate.  Like 
Judas,  he  went  at  nightfall  to  give  the  kiss  of  peace 
to  Louis  XVI.  by  assuring  him  of  his  loyalty ;  like 
the  Roman  governor,  he  proclaimed  at  daybreak  the 
impotence  with  which  he  had  stricken  himself,  and 
washed  his  hands  of  all  that  was  to  happen." 


THE  NIGHT  OF  AUGUST  NINTH  TO  TENTH.       283 

When  the  first  fires  of  this  fatal  day  were  kindling 
in  the  sky,  Marie  Antoinette  experienced  a  profound 
emotion.  Looking  with  melancholy  at  the  horizon 
which  began  to  lighten :  "  Sister,"  said  she  to 
Madame  Elisabeth,  "come  and  see  the  sun  rise." 
It  was  the  sun  that  was  to  illumine  the  death- 
struggle  of  royalty.  Sinister  omen !  the  sun  was  red 
as  blood. 


XXVIII. 

THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH. 

THE  fatal  day  began.  It  was  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  The  Queen  made  her  children  rise, 
lest  the  swords  of  the  insurgents  should  surprise 
them  in  their  beds.  The  Dauphin,  unaccustomed 
to  being  called  so  early,  stared  with  surprise  at 
the  spectacle  presented  by  the  court  and  garden. 
"  Mamma,"  said  he,  "  why  should  any  one  harm 
papa  ?  He  is  so  good  !  "  Then,  turning  to  a  little 
girl  who  was  his  usual  companion  in  his  games,  he 
addressed  her  these  words,  which  prove  how  well,  in 
spite  of  his  age,  he  knew  the  peril  he  was  in :  "  Here, 
Josephine,  take  this  lock  of  my  hair,  and  promise  to 
wear  it  as  long  as  I  am  in  danger." 

Led  by  their  chief.  Marshal  de  Mailly,  an  old  man 
of  eighty-six,  the  two  hundred  noblemen,  who  had 
assembled  in  the  Galler}^  of  Diana,  passed  in  review 
before  the  royal  family  with  those  of  the  National 
Guards  who  were  royalists.  "  Sire,"  exclaimed  the 
old  marshal,  bending  his  knee,  "  here  are  your  faith- 
ful nobles  who  have  hastened  to  re-establish  Your 
Majesty  on  the  throne  of  your  ancestors." — "For 
this  ouce,"  responded  Louis  XVL,  "  I  consent  that 

284 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  285 

my  friends  should  defend  me  ;  we  will  perish  or  save 
ourselves  together."  The  last  defenders  of  the  throne 
shed  tears  of  fidelity  and  tenderness.  They  kneeled 
before  Marie  Antoinette,  and  entreated  the  honor  of 
kissing  her  hand.  Never  had  the  Queen  appeared 
more  gracious  and  majestic.  The  National  Guards, 
enchanted,  loaded  their  arms  with  transport.  The 
Queen  seized  the  Dauphin  in  her  arms  and  held  him 
above  their  heads  like  a  livijig  standard.  The  young 
men  shouted :  "  Long  live  the  Kings  of  our  fathers  ! " 
And  the  old  men  cried :  "  Long  live  the  King  of  our 
children  !  " 

At  the  gates  of  the  Tuileries  the  tide  was  rising. 
Vanguards  of  the  insurrection,  the  Marseillais  arrived 
unhindered.  The  municipality  had  succeeded  in 
removing  the  cannons  which  were  to  have  prevented 
approach  by  way  of  the  Pont-Neuf  and  the  Pont- 
Royal.  Mandat  was  no  longer  there  to  issue  orders. 
Nothing  impeded  the  march  of  the  faubourgs. 

And  yet  resistance  might  still  have  been  possible. 
It  is  Barbaroux,  the  fierce  revolutionist  himself,  who 
says  so.  "  All  the  faults  committed  by  the  insurrec- 
tion, the  wretched  arrangement  of  the  attacking 
party,  the  terror  of  some  and  the  ignorance  of  others, 
the  forces  at  the  palace,  all  made  the  victory  of  the 
court  certain,  if  the  King  had  not  left  his  post.  If 
he  had  shown  himself  on  horseback,  a  large  majority 
of  the  people  of  Paris  would  have  pronounced  for 
him."  Napoleon,  who  was  an  eye-witness,  had  said 
the  night  before  to  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  that  with  two 


286  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

battalions  of  Swiss  and  some  cavalry  he  would  under- 
take to  give  the  rioters  a  lesson  they  would  remember. 
In  the  evening  of  August  10,  he  wrote  to  his  brother 
Joseph :  "  According  to  what  I  saw  of  the  temper  of 
the  crowd  in  the  morning,  if  Louis  XVI.  had  mounted 
a  horse,  he  would  have  gained  the  victory."  Very 
few  of  the  insurgents  were  seriously  determined  on  a 
revolt.  Most  of  them  marched  blindly,  not  knowing, 
and  not  even  asking,  whither  they  went. 

Westermann  had  been  obliged  to  threaten  San- 
terre,  and  even  to  put  his  sword  against  his  breast, 
in  order  to  induce  him  to  march.  A  great  number  of 
the  people  of  the  faubourgs,  uneasy  as  to  the  result 
of  the  enterprise,  said  that,  considering  the  prepai-a- 
tions  made  by  the  palace,  it  would  be  better  to  defer 
the  matter  to  another  day.  The  unarmed  crowd 
followed  through  mere  curiosity,  and  were  ready  to 
take  flight  at  the  first  discharge  of  musketry.  Ac- 
cording to  Count  de  Vaublanc,  the  Swiss,  if  they  had 
been  commanded  by  a  good  officer  from  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  would  have  sufficed  to  disperse  the 
multitude  as  they  came  up,  and  possibly  might  have 
won  the  day  for  the  King  without  bloodshed.  "  Thus, 
the  best  of  princes  rendered  useless  the  courage  of 
his  defenders,  and  to  spare  the  blood  of  his  enemies 
accomplished  the  ruin  of  his  friends.  All  his  virtues 
turned  against  him  and  brought  him  to  his  ruin." 
M.  de  Vaublanc  says  again  in  his  Memoirs  :  "  At  six 
in  the  morning  those  who  were  in  revolt  had  not  yet 
assembled.     How  much  time  had  been  lost,  how 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  287 

much  was  still  to  be  lost !  It  was  too  evident  that 
no  military  judgment  had  presided  over  that  strange 
disposition  of  troops,  so  placed  within  and  without 
the  palace  as  to  be  unable  to  give  each  other  mutual 
support ;  a  military  man  knows  too  well  the  value  of 
the  briefest  moments,  he  knows  too  well  how  quickly 
victory  can  be  decided  by  attacking  the  flank  of  a 
multitude  with  a  small  number  of  brave  men.  If  the 
King  had  appointed  one  of  the  generals  near  him 
absolute  master  of  operations,  no  doubt  this  general 
would  have  given  the  rebels  no  time  to  unite.  .  .  . 
Alas  !  Louis  XVI.  had  three  times  more  courage 
than  was  necessary  to  conquer,  but  he  knew  not  how 
to  avail  himself  of  it."  Such  also  was  the  opinion  of 
M.  Thiers,  who,  in  his  Histoire  de  la  Revolution  fran- 
faise,  says :  "  It  must  be  repeated,  the  unfortunate 
Prince  feared  nothing  for  himself.  He  had,  in  fact, 
refused  to  wear  a  wadded  vest,  as  he  had  done  on 
July  14,  saying  that  on  a  day  of  combat  he  ought  to 
be  as  much  exposed  as  the  least  of  his  servants. 
Courage  did  not  fail  him  then,  and  afterwards  he 
displayed  a  bravery  that  was  noble  and  elevated 
enough;  but  he  lacked  boldness  to  take  the  offensive. 
...  It  is  certain,  as  has  been  frequently  said,  that 
if  he  had  mounted  a  horse  and  charged  at  the  head 
of  his  troops,  the  insurrection  would  have  been  put 
down." 

Toward  six  o'clock  the  King  went  out  on  the  bal- 
cony. He  was  saluted  with  acclamations.  Then  he 
went  down   the  great  staircase  with  the  Queen   to 


288  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

inspect  the  troops  stationed  in  the  courtyards.  As 
one  of  his  gentlemen-of-the-chamber,  Emmanuel  Au- 
bier,  has  remarked :  "  He  had  never  made  war  himself 
during  his  reign  ;  there  had  never  been  a  war  on  the 
continent;  he  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  wanting 
in  grace,  even  awkward,  and  to  look  thoughtful 
rather  than  energetic,  —  a  thing  displeasing  to  French 
soldiers."  Instead  of  putting  on  a  uniform  and 
mounting  a  horse,  he  wore  a  purple  coat,  of  the  shade 
used  as  mourning  for  kings,  on  this  fatal  day  when  he 
was  to  wear  mourning  for  the  monarchy.  Unspurred, 
unbooted,  shod  as  if  for  a  drawing-room,  with  white 
silk  stockings,  his  hat  under  his  arm,  his  hair  out  of 
curl  and  badly  powdered,  there  was  nothing  martial, 
nothing  royal  about  him.  At  this  hour,  when  what 
was  needed  was  the  attitude  and  the  fire  of  a  Henry 
IV.,  he  looked  like  an  honest  country  gentleman  talk- 
ing with  his  farmers.  The  first  condition  of  inspir- 
ing confidence  is  to  possess  it.  Louis  XVI.'s  aspect 
was  much  more  that  of  a  victim  than  a  sovereign. 
The  cries  of  "  Long  live  the  King ! "  which  would 
have  been  enthusiastic  for  a  prince  ready  to  battle  for 
his  rights  and  reconquer  his  realm  at  the  sword's 
point,  were  few  and  sad.  After  having  inspected  the 
troops  in  the  courts,  Louis  XVL  decided  to  inspect 
those  in  the  garden  also.  The  Queen  returned  to 
the  palace,  and  he  continued  his  rounds. 

The  loyal  National  Guards,  comprising  the  compa- 
nies of  the  Petits-Peres  and  the  Filles-Saint- Thomas^ 
were  drawn  up  on  the  terrace  between  the  palace  and 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  289 

the  garden.  They  received  the  King  sympathetically 
and  advised  him  to  continue  his  inspection  as  far  as 
the  Place  Louis  XV.  At  this  moment  a  battalion  of 
the  National  Guards  from  the  Saint-Marceau  section 
defiled  before  him,  uttering  shouts  of  hatred  and 
fury.  Louis  XVI.  was  undisturbed  by  this.  He  re- 
mained calm,  and  when  this  battalion  had  got  into 
position,  he  tranquilly  reviewed  it.  Then  he  walked 
on  again  and  crossed  the  entire  garden.  The  battalion 
of  the  Croix-Rouge^  which  was  on  the  terrace  beside 
the  water,  cried  from  a  distance  :  "  Down  with  the 
veto !  Down  with  the  traitor !  "  On  the  terrace  of 
the  Feuillants,  at  the  other  side,  there  was  an  equally 
violent  crowd.  The  King,  calm  as  ever,  went  on  to 
the  swing-bridge  by  which  the  Tuileries  was  entered 
from  Place  Louis  XV.  He  was  well  enough  received 
by  the  troops  stationed  there.  But  his  return  to  the 
palace  could  not  but  be  difficult.  The  National 
Guards  of  the  Croix-Rouge  had  broken  rank  and 
come  down  from  the  terrace  beside  the  river  to  the 
garden,  and  pressed  around  the  King  with  menacing 
shouts.  The  unfortunate  monarch  could  only  re- 
enter the  palace  where  he  had  but  a  few  moments 
more  to  stay,  by  calling  to  his  aid  a  double  row  of 
faithful  grenadiers.  The  ministers  who  were  at  the 
windows  became  alarmed.  One  of  them,  M.  de 
Bouchage,  cried :  "  Great  God !  it  is  the  King  they 
are  hooting !  What  the  devil  are  they  doing  down 
there?  Quick;  we  must  go  after  him ! "  And  he  has- 
tened to  descend  into  the  garden  with  his  colleague, 


290  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Bigot  de  Sainte-Croix,  to  meet  his  master.  The  Queen, 
who  beheld  the  sight,  shed  tears.  The  two  ministers 
brought  back  Louis  XVI.  He  came  in  out  of  breath, 
and  fatigued  by  the  heat  and  the  exercise  he  had 
taken,  but  otherwise  seeming  very  little  moved. 
"  All  is  lost,"  said  the  Queen.  "  This  review  has 
done  more  harm  than  good." 

From  this  moment  bad  tidings  succeeded  each 
other  without  interruption.  They  were  apprised  of 
the  formation  of  the  new  Commune,  Mandat's  mur- 
der, the  march  of  the  faubourgs,  and  the  arrival  of 
the  first  detachments  of  rioters.  The  Marseillais 
debouched  into  the  Carrousel,  and  sent  an  envoy  to 
demand  that  the  gate  of  the  Royal  Court  should  be 
opened.  As  it  remained  closed,  they  knocked  on  it 
with  repeated  blows,  while  the  National  Guards  said : 
"  We  will  not  fire  on  our  brothers." 

Would  resistance  have  been  possible  even  at  this 
moment ;  that  is  to  say,  between  seven  and  eight  in 
the  morning  ?  M.  de  Vaublanc  thought  so.  "  I  do 
not  know,"  he  writes,  "  to  what  section  the  first  band 
that  arrived  on  the  Carrousel  belonged ;  it  was  in  dis- 
order and  badly  armed.  If  the  King  had  marched 
towards  this  troop  at  the  head  of  a  battalion  of  the 
National  Guard,  if  he  had  pronounced  these  words : 
'  I  am  your  King ;  I  order  you  to  lay  down  your  arms,' 
the  success  would  have  been  decided.  The  flight  of 
a  single  battalion  of  rebels  would  have  sufficed  to 
frighten  and  disperse  the  others,  even  before  they 
were  formed  into  line." 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  291 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Roederer,  instead  of  coun- 
selling resistance,  implored  Louis  XVI.  to  seek  shel- 
ter in  the  Assembly  for  the  royal  family.  "  Sire,"  he 
said  in  an  urgent  tone,  "  Your  Majesty  has  not  five 
minutes  to  lose ;  there  is  no  safety  for  you  except  in 
the  National  Assembly.  In  the  opinion  of  the  depart- 
ment, it  is  necessary  to  go  there  without  delay.  There 
are  not  men  enough  in  the  courtyards  to  defend  the 
palace ;  nor  are  they  perfectly  well-disposed.  On  the 
mere  recommendation  to  be  on  the  defensive,  the  can- 
noneers have  already  unloaded  their  cannons."  — 
"  But,"  said  the  King,  "  I  did  not  see  many  persons 
on  the  Carrousel."  — "  Sire,"  returned  Roederer, 
"there  are  a  dozen  pieces  of  artillery,  and  an  immense 
crowd  is  arriving  from  the  faubourgs."  The  idea  of 
a  flight  before  the  insurrection  revolted  the  Queen's 
pride.  "What  are  you  saying,  Sir?"  cried  she;  "you 
are  proposing  that  we  should  seek  shelter  with  our 
most  cruel  persecutors!  Never!  never!  I  will  be 
nailed  to  these  walls  before  I  consent  to  leave  them. 
Sir,  we  have  troops."  —  "  Madame,  all  Paris  is  on  the 
march.  Resistance  is  impossible.  Will  you  cause 
the  massacre  of  the  King,  your  children,  and  your 
servants  ?  " 

Louis  XVI.  still  hesitating,  Roederer  vehemently 
insisted.  "  Sire,"  said  he,  "  time  presses ;  this  is  no 
longer  an  entreaty  nor  even  a  counsel  we  take  the 
liberty  of  offering  you ;  there  is  only  one  thing  left 
for  us  to  do  now,  and  we  ask  your  permission  to  take 
you  away."     The  King  looked  fixedly  at  his  interloc- 


292  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOYALTT. 

utor  for  several  seconds  ;  then,  turning  to  the  Queen, 
he  said :  "  Let  us  go,"  and  rose  to  his  feet.  Madame 
Elisabeth  said :  "  Monsieur  Rcederer,  do  you  answer 
for  the  King's  life  ?  "  — "  Yes,  Madame,  with  my 
own,"  responded  the  communal  attorney.  Then, 
turning  to  the  King :  "  Sire,"  said  he,  "  I  ask  Your 
Majesty  not  to  take  any  of  your  court  with  you,  but 
to  have  no  cortege  but  the  department  and  no  escort 
except  the  National  Guard."  —  "  Yes,"  replied  the 
King,  "  there  is  nothing  but  that  to  say."  The  Min- 
ister of  Justice  exclaimed :  "  The  ministers  will  follow 
the  King."  —  "  Yes,  they  have  a  place  in  the  Assem- 
bly." —  "  And  Madame  de  Tourzel,  my  children's 
governess  ?  "  said  the  Queen.  —  "  Yes,  Madame ;  she 
will  accompany  you." 

Roederer  then  left  the  King's  chamber,  where  this 
conversation  had  taken  place,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice 
to  the  persons  crowding  together  in  the  Council  Hall : 
"  The  King  and  his  family  are  going  to  the  Assembly 
without  other  attendants  than  the  department,  the 
ministers,  and  a  guard."  Then  he  asked :  "  Is  the 
officer  who  commands  the  guard  here  ?  "  This  offi- 
cer presenting  himself,  he  said  to  him :  "  You  must 
bring  forward  a  double  file  of  National  Guards  to 
accompany  the  King.  The  King  desires  it."  The 
officer  replied:  "It  shall  be  done."  Louis  XVI.  came 
out  of  his  chamber  with  his  family.  He  waited  sev- 
eral minutes  in  the  hall  until  the  guard  should  arrive, 
and,  going  around  the  circle  composed  of  some  forty 
or  fifty  persons  belonging  to  his  court :  "  Come,  gen- 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  293 

tlemen,"  said  he,  "  there  is  nothing  more  to  do  here." 
The  Queen,  turning  to  Madame  Campan,  said :  "  Wait 
in  my  apartment ;  I  will  rejoin  you  or  else  send  word 
to  go  I  don't  know  where."  Marie  Antoinette  took 
no  one  with  her  except  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  and 
Madame  de  Tourzel.  The  Princess  de  Tarente  and 
Madame  de  la  Roche- Aymon,  afiQicted  at  the  thought 
of  being  left  at  the  Tuileries,  went  down  with  all  the 
other  ladies  to  the  Queen's  apartments  on  the  ground- 
floor. 

La  Chesnaye,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  command 
of  the  National  Guard  in  consequence  of  Mandat's 
death,  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  escort.  This 
was  formed  of  detachments  from  the  most  loyal  bat- 
talions, the  Petits-Peres,  the  Butte  des  MouUns,  and 
the  FiUes-iSaint- Thomas,  re-enforced  by  about  two 
hundred  Swiss,  commanded  by  the  colonel  of  the 
regiment,  Marquis  de  Maillardoz,  and  the  major, 
Baron  de  Bachmann.  The  cortege  reached  the  great 
staircase  by  way  of  the  Council  Hall,  the  Royal 
Bedchamber,  the  (Eil-de-Bceuf,  the  Hall  of  the 
Guards,  and  the  Hall  of  the  Hundred  Swiss.  As 
he  was  passing  through  the  CEil-de-Boeuf,  Louis  XVI. 
took  the  hat  of  the  National  Guard  on  his  right, 
and  replaced  it  by  his  own,  which  was  adorned 
with  white  feathers.  The  guard,  surprised,  removed 
the  King's  hat  from  his  head  and  carried  it  under  his 
arm. 

When  Louis  XVI.  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
in  the  Pavilion  of  the  Horloge,  his  thoughts  recurred 


294  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

to  the  faithful  adherents  who  had  so  uselessly  devoted 
themselves  to  his  defence,  and  whom  he  was  leaving 
at  the  Tuileries  without  watchword  or  direction. 
"What  is  going  to  become  of  all  those  who  have 
stayed  up  stairs?  "  said  he.  —  "  Sire,"  replied  Roederer, 
"  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were  all  in  colored  coats. 
Those  who  have  swords  need  only  lay  them  off,  follow 
you,  and  go  out  through  the  garden."  —  "  That  is 
true,"  returned  Louis  XVI.  In  the  vestibule,  a  little 
further  on,  as  he  was  about  to  quit  the  fatal  palace 
which  fate  had  condemned  him  never  to  re-enter,  he 
had  a  last  moment  of  scruple  and  hesitation.  He 
said  again:  "But  after  all,  there  are  not  many  people 
on  the  Carrousel." 

"  True,  Sire,"  replied  Rcederer ;  "  but  the  faubourgs 
will  soon  arrive,  and  all  the  sections  are  armed,  and 
have  assembled  at  the  municipality ;  besides,  there 
are  neither  men  enough  here,  nor  are  they  determined 
enough  to  resist  the  actual  gathering  on  the  Carrousel, 
which  has  twelve  pieces  of  artillery." 

The  die  is  cast;  Louis  XVI.  abandons  the  Tuileries. 
Respect  alone  restrains  the  grief  and  indignation  that 
move  the  Swiss  soldiers  and  the  noblemen  whose 
weapons  and  whose  blood  have  been  refused.  They 
looked  down  from  the  windows  at  the  cortege,  or 
better,  the  funeral  procession  of  royalty.  It  was 
about  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  escort  was 
drawn  up  in  two  lines.  The  members  of  the  de- 
partment formed  a  circle  around  the  royal  family. 
Roederer  walked  first.     Then  came  the  King,  with 


THE  MORNING  OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  295 

Bigot  de  Sainte-Croix,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
at  his  side;  the  Queen  followed,  giving  her  left  arm 
to  M.  du  Bouchage,  Minister  of  Marine,  and  her 
right  hand  to  the  Dauphin,  who  held  Madame  de 
Tourzel  with  the  other;  then  Madame  Royale  and 
Madame  Elisabeth,  with  De  Joly,  Minister  of  Jus- 
tice; the  Minister  of  War,  D'Abancourt,  leading  the 
Princess  de  Lamballe.  The  Ministers  of  the  Inte- 
rior and  of  Taxes,  Champion  de  Villeneuve  and  Le 
Roux  de  la  Ville,  closed  the  procession.  The  air 
was  pure  and  the  morning  radiant.  The  sun  lighted 
up  the  garden,  the  marble  sculpture,  and  the  sheets 
of  water.  Birds  sang  under  the  trees,  and  nature 
smiled  on  this  day  of  mourning  as  if  it  were  a 
festival. 

Looking  at  the  populace,  Madame  Elisabeth  said: 
"All  those  people  have  gone  astray;  I  should  like 
them  to  be  converted ;  I  should  not  like  them  to  be 
punished.^'  Tears  stood  in  the  eyes  of  the  little 
Madame  Royale.  The  Princess  de  Lamballe  said 
mournfully:  "We  shall  never  return  to  the  Tui- 
leries ! "  The  Prince  de  Poix,  the  Duke  de  Choiseul, 
Counts  d'Haussonville,  de  Viom^nil,  de  Hervilly,  and 
de  Pont-l'Abb^,  the  Marquis  de  Briges,  Chevalier  de 
Fleurieu,  Viscount  de  Saint-Priest,  the  Marquis  de 
Nantouillet,  MM.  de  Fresnes  and  de  Salaignac,  the 
King's  equerries,  and  Saint-Pardoux,  the  equerry  of 
Madame  Elisabeth,  followed  the  sad  procession. 
They  passed  through  the  grand  alley  unobstructed 
as  far  as  the   parterres,  then  turned   to   the   right, 


296  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

toward  the  alley  of  the  chestnut  trees.  There  a  halt 
of  some  minutes  occurred,  in  order  to  give  time  for 
warning  the  Assembly.  Louis  XVI.  looked  down 
at  a  heap  of  dead  leaves  which  had  been  swept  up 
by  the  gardeners  after  a  storm  the  night  before. 
"There  are  a  good  many  leaves,"  said  the  King; 
"they  are  falling  early  this  year."  It  was  only  a 
few  days  before  that  Manuel  had  written  in  a  jour- 
nal that  the  King  would  not  last  until  the  falling 
of  the  leaves.  Perhaps  Louis  XVI.  remembered  the 
prophecy  of  the  revolutionist;  the  Dauphin,  with 
the  carelessness  belonging  to  his  age,  amused  himself 
by  kicking  about  the  dead  leaves,  the  leaves  that 
had  fallen  as  his  father's  crown  was  falling  at  this 
moment. 

Before  the  royal  family  could  enter  the  Assembly 
chamber,  it  was  necessary  that  the  step  the  King  had 
taken  should  be  announced  to  the  deputies.  The 
president  of  the  department  undertook  this  commis- 
sion. A  deputation  of  twenty-four  members  was  at 
once  sent  to  meet  Louis  XVI.  They  found  him  in 
the  large  alley  at  the  foot  of  the  terrace  of  the  Feuil- 
lants,  a  few  steps  from  the  staircase  leading  up  to 
it,  and  which  goes  as  far  as  the  lobby  through  which 
one  enters  the  hall  occupied  by  the  National  Assem- 
bly. "  Sire,"  said  the  leader  of  the  deputation,  "  the 
Assembly,  eager  to  contribute  to  your  safety,  ofifers 
to  you  and  your  family  an  asylum  in  its  midst." 

During  this  time,  the  terrace  and  the  staircase  had 
become  thronged  by  a  furious  crowd.     A  man  carry- 


THE  MORNING   OF  AUGUST  TENTH.  297 

ing  a  long  pole  cried  out  in  rage:  '-No,  no;  they 
shall  not  enter  the  Assembly.  They  are  the  cause  of 
all  our  troubles.  This  must  be  ended.  Down  with 
them !  "  Roederer,  standing  on  the  fourth  step  of  the 
staircase,  cried :  "  Citizens,  I  demand  silence  in  the 
name  of  the  law.  You  seem  disposed  to  prevent 
the  King  and  his  family  from  entering  the  National 
Assembly ;  you  are  not  justified  in  opposing  it.  The 
King  has  a  place  there  in  virtue  of  the  Constitution ; 
and  though  his  family  has  none  legally,  they  have 
just  been  authorized  by  a  decree  to  go  there.  Here 
are  the  deputies  sent  to  meet  the  King ;  they  will 
attest  the  existence  of  this  decree."  The  deputies 
confirmed  his  words.  Nevertheless,  the  crowd  still 
hesitated  to  leave  the  way  clear.  The  man  with  the 
pole  kept  on  brandishing  it,  and  crying :  "  Down  with 
them  !  down  with  them !  "  Roederer,  going  on  to  the 
terrace,  snatched  the  pole  and  flung  it  into  the  gar- 
den. The  crowd  was  so  compact  that  in  the  midst 
of  the  squabble  some  one  stole  the  Queen's  watch  and 
her  purse.  A  man  with  a  sinister  face  approached 
the  Dauphin,  took  him  from  Marie  Antoinette,  and 
lifted  him  in  his  arms.  The  Queen  uttered  a  cry. 
"  Do  not  be  frightened,"  said  the  man ;  "  I  will  do 
him  no  harm."  Another  person  said  to  Louis  XVI. : 
"  Sire,  we  are  honest  men ;  but  we  are  not  willing  to 
be  betrayed  any  longer.  Be  a  good  citizen,  and  don't 
forget  to  drive  away  your  shavelings  and  your  wife." 
Insults  and  threats  resounded  fi'om  all  sides.  Finally, 
after  an  actual  struggle,  the  royal  family  succeeded 


298  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

in  opening  a  passage.  They  made  their  way  with 
difficulty  through  the  narrow  lobby,  choked  with 
people,  penetrated  the  crowd,  and  entered  the  session 
chamber.  It  was  there  that  royalty,  humiliated  and 
overcome,  was  to  lie  at  the  point  of  death  under  the 
eyes  of  its  implacable  enemies. 


XXIX. 

THE  BOX  OF  THE  LOGOGEAPH. 

THE  royal  family  has  just  entered  the  session 
chamber.  It  will  find  there  not  an  asylum, 
but  the  vestibule  of  the  prison  and  the  scaffold. 
The  man  who  had  taken  the  Dauphin  from  the 
Queen's  arms  at  the  door  of  the  Assembly  set  him 
down  on  the  secretary's  desk  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
and  the  young  Prince  was  greeted  with  applause. 
Marie  Antoinette  advanced  with  dignity.  Accord- 
ing to  Vaublanc's  expression,  she  would  not  have 
had  a  different  bearing  or  a  more  august  serenity  on 
a  day  of  royal  pomp.  Louis  XVI.  took  a  place  near 
the  president.  The  Queen,  her  daughter,  Madame 
Elisabeth,  and  Madame  de  Tourzel  sat  down  on  the 
ministerial  benches.  As  soon  as  the  Dauphin  was 
left  to  himself,  he  sprang  towards  his  mother.  A 
voice  cried :  "  Take  him  to  the  King !  The  Austrian 
woman  is  unworthy  of  the  people's  confidence." 
An  usher  attempted  to  obey  this  injunction.  How- 
ever, the  child  began  to  cry,  people  were  affected, 
and  he  was  allowed  to  remain  with  the  Queen.  At 
this  moment  some  armed  noblemen  made  their 
appearance   at   the   extremity   of  the   hall.      "You 

299 


300  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  TtOYALTY. 

compromise  the  King's  safety ! "  exclaimed  some  one, 
and  the  nobles  retired. 

Order  was  restored.  Louis  XVI.  began  to  speak. 
"  I  came  here,"  said  he,  "  to  prevent  a  great  crime, 
and  I  think  that  I  could  be  nowhere  more  secure 
than  amidst  the  representatives  of  the  nation." 
Alas !  the  crime  will  not  be  prevented,  but  only 
adjourned.  Vergniaud  occupied  the  president's  chair. 
"  Sire,"  he  replied,  "  you  may  count  on  the  firmness 
of  the  National  Assembly.  It  knows  its  duties ;  its 
members  have  sworn  to  die  in  defending  the  rights 
of  the  people  and  the  constituted  authorities." 

So  they  still  called  Louis  XVI.  Sire ;  presently 
they  will  call  him  nothing  but  Louis  Capet.  They 
allow  him  to  take  an  armchair  near  the  president ; 
but  in  a  few  minutes  they  will  find  this  place  too 
good  for  him.  And  it  is  the  voice  of  this  very 
Vergniaud  who,  a  few  hours  from  now,  will  pro- 
nounce his  deposition,  and  five  months  later  his 
sentence  of  death. 

Hardly  had  the  unhappy  King  sat  down  when 
Chabot,  the  unfrocked  Capuchin,  claimed  that  a 
clause  of  the  Constitution  forbade  the  Assembly  to 
deliberate  in  presence  of  the  sovereign.  Under  this 
pretext  his  place  was  changed,  and  Louis  XVI.  with 
all  his  family  was  shut  up  in  the  reporters'  gallery, 
sometimes  called  the  box  of  the  Logograph.  This 
miserable  hole,  about  six  feet  high  by  twelve  wide, 
was  on  a  level  with  the  last  ranks  of  the  Assembly, 
behind   the   president's  chair  and   the  seats  of  the 


THE  BOX  OF  THE  LOGOGBAPH.  301 


secretaries.  It  was  ordinarily  set  apart  for  the 
editors,  or  rather  for  the  stenographers  of  a  great 
newspaper  which  reported  the  proceedings,  and 
which  was  called  the  Journal  logographique^  or  the 
Log otachy graphs^  usually  abbreviated  into  the  Logo- 
graphe.  Louis  XVI.  seated  himself  in  the  front  of 
the  box,  Marie  Antoinette  half-concealed  herself  in 
a  corner,  where  she  sought  a  little  shelter  against 
so  many  humiliations.  Her  children  and  their 
governess  took  places  on  a  bench  with  Madame 
Elisabeth  and  the  Princess  de  Lamballe.  Several 
noblemen,  the  latest  courtiers  of  misfortune,  stood 
up  behind  them. 

Roederer,  who  was  at  the  bar,  then  made  a  report 
in  the  name  of  the  municipal  department,  in  which 
he  explained  all  that  had  taken  place.  He  declared 
that  he  had  said  to  the  soldiers  and  National  Guard 
detailed  for  the  defence  of  the  Tuileries:  "We  do 
not  ask  you  to  shed  the  blood  of  your  brethren  nor 
to  attack  your  fellow-citizens ;  your  cannons  are 
there  for  your  defence,  not  for  an  attack;  but  I 
require  this  defence  in  the  name  of  the  law,  in  the 
name  of  the  Constitution.  The  law  authorizes  you, 
when  violence  is  used  against  you,  to  repress  it 
vigorously.  .  .  .  Once  more,  you  are  not  to  be  assail- 
ants, but  to  act  on  the  defensive  only." 

Rcederer  added  that  the  cannoneers,  instead  of 
complying  with  his  urgent  exhortations,  gave  no 
response  save  that  of  unloading  their  pieces  before 
him.     After  having  explained  how  greatly  the    de- 


302  THE  DOWNI'ALL  OF  ROTALTT. 

fence  was  disorganized,  he  thus  ended  his  report : 
"  We  felt  ourselves  no  longer  in  a  position  to  protect 
the  charge  confided  to  us ;  this  charge  was  the  King; 
the  King  is  a  man;  this  man  is  a  father.  The  chil- 
dren ask  us  to  assure  the  existence  of  the  father; 
the  law  asks  us  to  assure  the  existence  of  the 
King  of  France;  humanity  asks  of  us  the  exist- 
ence of  the  man.  No  longer  able  to  defend  this 
charge,  no  other  idea  presented  itself  than  that  of 
entreating  the  King  to  come  with  his  family  to  the 
National  Assembly.  .  .  .  We  have  nothing  to  add 
to  what  I  have  just  said,  except  that,  our  force  being 
paralyzed,  and  no  longer  in  existence,  we  can  have 
none  but  that  which  it  shall  please  the  National 
Assembly  to  communicate.  We  are  ready  to  die  in 
the  execution  of  the  orders  it  may  give  us.  We  ask, 
while  awaiting  them,  to  remain  near  it,  being  useless 
everywhere  else."  The  Assembly,  not  then  suspect- 
ing that  it  would  so  soon  depose  Louis  XVI., 
applauded  without  contradiction  from  the  galleries. 
The  president  said  to  Roederer :  "  The  Assembly  has 
listened  to  your  account  with  the  greatest  interest  j 
it  invites  you  to  be  present  at  the  session." 

The  advice  given  by  Rcsderer  to  the  King  has 
been  greatly  blamed.  The  ev6nt  has  seriously  in- 
fluenced the  judgment  since  passed  upon  it.  If 
Louis  XVI.  had  received  the  support  he  had  a  right 
to  count  on  from  the  representatives,  things  would 
have  appeared  in  quite  another  light.  Count  de 
Vaublanc,  in  his  Memoirs,  has  rendered  full  justice 


THE  BOX  OF  THE  LOGOGBAPH.  303 

to  the  loyal  intentions  of  the  municipal  attorney. 
"  The  advice  he  gave  has  been  accounted  a  crime," 
says  M.  de  Vaublanc ;  "  I  think  it  is  an  unjust 
reproach.  Until  then  he  had  done  all  that  lay  in  his 
power  to  contribute  to  the  defence  of  the  palace. 
He  must  have  seen  clearly  that  as  the  King  would 
not  defend  himself,  he  could  no  longer  be  defended. 
If  the  rebels  had  been  attacked,  neither  M.  Roederer 
nor  any  one  else  would  have  proposed  going  to  the 
Assembly ;  but  since  they  were  on  the  defensive,  and 
without  any  recognized  leader,  the  magistrate  might 
doubtless  have  been  struck  with  a  single  thought: 
The  King  and  his  family  are  about  to  be  massacred. 
The  King  put  an  end  to  all  irresolution  in  saying 
these  words :  '  There  is  nothing  more  to  do  here.' " 

At  first,  Louis  XVI.  seemed  not  to  repent  of  the 
step  he  had  been  obliged  to  take.  Even  in  that 
wretched  hole,  the  Logograph  box,  his  face  at  first 
was  calm  and  even  confident.  As  the  shouting  had 
increased  outside,  Vergniaud  ordered  the  removal  of 
the  iron  grating  separating  this  box  from  the  hall,  so 
that  in  case  the  populace  made  an  irruption  into  the 
lobbies,  the  King  could  take  refuge  in  the  midst  of 
the  deputies.  In  default  of  workmen  and  tools,  the 
deputies  nearest  at  hand,  the  Duke  de  Choiseul, 
Prince  de  Poix,  and  the  ministers,  undertook  to  tear 
away  the  grating,  and  Louis  XVI.  himself,  accus- 
tomed to  the  rough  work  of  a  locksmith,  joined  his 
efforts  to  theirs.  The  fastenings  having  been  broken 
in  this  manner,  the  unfortunate  sovereign  seemed  not 


304  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

to  doubt  the  sentiments  of  the  National  Assembly. 
He  pointed  out  the  most  remarkable  deputies  to  the 
Dauphin,  chatted  with  several  among  them,  and 
looked  on  at  the  session  like  a  mere  spectator  in  a 
box  at  the  theatre. 

The  royal  family  had  been  nearly  two  hours  at  the 
Assembly  when  all  of  a  sudden  a  frightful  discharge 
of  musketry  and  artillery  was  heard.  The  deputies 
of  the  left  grew  pale  with  fear  and  anger,  thinking 
themselves  betrayed.  Casting  glances  of  uneasiness 
and  wrath  at  the  feeble  monarch,  they  accused  him  of 
having  ordered  a  massacre,  and  said  that  all  was  lost. 
An  officer  of  the  National  Guard  rushed  in,  crying : 
"  We  are  pursued,  we  are  overpowered  !  "  The 
galleries,  affrighted,  imagined  that  the  Swiss  would 
arrive  at  any  moment.  Excitement  was  at  its  height. 
Sinister,  imposing,  dreadful  moment !  Solemn  hour, 
when  the  monarchy,  amidst  a  frightful  tempest,  was 
like  a  venerable  oak  which  lightning  has  just  stricken; 
when  terror,  wrath,  and  pity  disputed  the  possession 
of  men's  souls,  and  when  the  King,  already  captive, 
was  present  like  Charles  V.  at  his  own  funeral.  Marie 
Antoinette  had  started.  At  the  sound  of  the  cannon 
her  cheeks  kindled  and  her  eyes  blazed.  A  vague 
hope  animated  her.  Perhaps,  she  said  within  herself, 
the  monarchy  is  at  last  to  be  avenged ;  perhaps  the 
Swiss  are  about  to  give  the  insurrection  a  lesson  it 
will  remember ;  perhaps  Louis  XVI.  will  re-enter  in 
triumph  the  palace  of  his  forefathers.  The  daughter 
of  Csesars  prayed  God  in  silence,  and  supplicated 


THE  BOX  OF  THE  LOGOGBAPH.  305 

Him    to    grant    victory    to    the    defenders    of    the 
throne. 

Chimeras  !  vain  hopes  !  Louis  XVI.  has  no  longer 
but  one  idea :  to  cast  off  all  responsibility  for  events. 
He  mustered  up,  so  to  say,  the  little  authority  he  had 
yet  remaining,  to  write  hastily,  in  pencil,  the  last 
order  he  was  to  sign:  the  order  to  stop  firing.  He 
flattered  himself  that  the  prohibition  to  shoot  would 
justify  him  completely  in  the  sight  of  the  National 
Assembly,  and  induce  them  to  treat  him  with  more 
consideration.  But  he  asked  himself  anxiously  who 
would  be  bold  enough  to  carry  his  order  as  far  as  the 
palace.  Would  not  so  perilous  a  mission  intimidate 
even  the  most  heroic?  M.  d'Hervilly,  who  was  at 
this  moment  in  the  box  of  the  Logograph,  offered 
himself.  As  the  King  and  Queen  at  first  refused  his 
offer,  and  pointed  out  all  the  dangers  of  such  an 
errand:  "I  beg  Their  Majesties,"  cried  he,  "not  to 
think  of  my  danger ;  my  duty  is  to  brave  everything 
in  their  service  ;  my  place  is  in  the  midst  of  the  firing, 
and  if  I  were  afraid  of  it  I  should  be  unworthy  of  my 
uniform."  These  words  determined  Louis  XVI.  to 
give  M.  d'Hervilly  the  order  signed  by  his  own  hand; 
the  valiant  nobleman,  bearing  this  order  which  was 
to  have  such  disastrous  consequences  for  the  defenders 
of  the  palace,  went  hastily  out  of  the  Assembly  hall 
and  made  his  way  to  the  Tuileries  through  a  rain  of 
balls  and  canister. 


XXX. 


THE   COMBAT. 


WHAT  had  taken  place  at  the  Tuileries  after 
the  departure  of  the  royal  family  for  the 
Assembly?  At  the  very  moment  when  they  aban- 
doned this  palace  which  they  were  never  to  see  again, 
the  Marseillais,  the  vanguard  of  the  insurrection, 
were  pounding  at  the  gate  of  the  principal  courtyard, 
furious  because  it  was  not  opened.  A  few  minutes 
later,  the  column  of  the  Faubourg  Saint- Antoine,  after 
passing  through  the  rue  Saint-Honor^,  debouched  on 
the  Carrousel.  It  was  under  command  of  the  Pole, 
Lazouski,  and  Westermann,  who  directed  it  toward 
the  gate  of  the  Royal  Court.  As  the  Marseillais  had 
not  yet  succeeded  in  forcing  this,  Westermann  had  it 
broken  open.  The  cannoneers,  whose  business  it  was 
to  defend  the  palace,  at  once  declared  on  the  side  of 
the  riot  and  turned  their  pieces  against  the  Tuileries. 
With  the  exception  of  the  domestics  there  were  now 
in  the  palace  only  the  seven  hundred  and  fifty  Swiss, 
about  a  hundred  National  Guards,  and  a  few  nobles. 
The  sole  instructions  the  Swiss  received  came  from  old 
Marshal  de  Mailly :  "  Do  not  let  yourselves  be  taken." 
Louis  XVI.  had  said  absolutely  nothing  on  going 
306 


THE  COMBAT.  307 


away,  and  his  departure  discouraged  his  most  faith- 
ful adherents.  Add  to  this  that  the  Swiss  had  not 
enough  cartridges.  What  was  to  be  the  fate  of  this 
fine  regiment,  this  corps  d^Slite,  which  everywhere 
and  always  had  set  the  example  of  discipline  and 
military  honor;  which  ever  since  the  Revolution 
began  had  haughtily  repulsed  every  attempt  to  tam- 
per with  it;  and  whose  red  uniforms  alone  struck 
terror  into  the  populace?  These  brave  soldiers 
guarded  respectfully  the  traditions  of  their  ancestors 
who,  at  the  famous  retreat  of  Meaux,  had  saved 
Charles  IX.  "  But  for  my  good  friends  the  Swiss," 
said  that  prince,  "  my  life  and  liberty  would  have 
been  in  a  bad  way."  What  the  Swiss  of  the  six- 
teenth century  had  done  for  one  King  of  France,  the 
Swiss  of  the  eighteenth  century  would  have  done  for 
his  successor.  They  would  have  saved  Louis  XVI. 
if  he  would  have  let  himself  be  saved. 

A  major-general  who  had  remained  at  the  Tuileries, 
judging  that  it  was  impossible  to  defend  the  courts 
with  so  few  soldiers,  cried :  "  Gentlemen,  retire  to 
the  palace ! "  "  They  had  to  leave  six  cannon  in  the 
power  of  the  enemy  and  to  abandon  the  courts.  It 
should  have  been  foreseen  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  retake  these  under  penalty  of  being  burned  in  the 
palace ;  the  common  soldiers  said  so  loudly.  Mean- 
while they  obeyed,  and  were  disposed  as  well  as  time 
and  the  localities  permitted.  The  stairs  and  win- 
dows were  lined  with  soldiers."  (Account  of  Colonel 
Pfyffer  d'Altishoffen,  published  at  Lucerne  in  1819.) 


308  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

One  post  occupied  the  chapel,  and  another  the  ves- 
tibule and  grand  staircase.  There  were  Swiss  also  at 
the  windows  looking  into  the  courts.  "  Down  with  the 
Swiss !"  cried  the  Marseillais.  "Down!  down!  Sur- 
render !  "  However,  the  struggle  had  not  yet  begun. 
Nearly  fifteen  minutes  elapsed  between  the  invasion 
of  the  Royal  Court  and  the  first  shot.  The  Mar- 
seillais brandished  their  pikes  and  guns,  but  they 
were  not  confident,  for  at  first  they  dared  not  cross 
the  court  more  than  half-way.  The  Swiss  and 
National  Guards  who  were  at  the  windows  made 
gestures  to  induce  the  populace  to  quiet  down  and 
go  away.  The  throng  of  insurgents  grew  greater 
every  minute.  They  had  just  got  their  cannon  into 
battery  against  the  Tuileries.  What  the  Swiss  spe- 
cially intended  was  to  defend  the  grand  staircase,  so 
as  to  prevent  the  apartments  on  the  first  floor  from 
being  invaded.  This  staircase,  afterwards  destroyed, 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  vestibule  of  the  Horloge 
Pavilion.  The  chapel,  whose  site  was  afterwards 
changed,  was  on  the  level  of  the  first  landing ;  and 
from  this  landing,  two  symmetrical  flights,  at  right 
angles  with  the  first,  led  to  the  Hall  of  the  Hundred 
Swiss  (the  future  Hall  of  the  Marshals).  Wester- 
mann,  bolder  than  the  other  insurgents,  had  advanced 
as  far  as  the  vestibule  with  several  Marseillais.  He 
began  to  parley  with  the  soldiers,  trying  to  set  them 
against  their  officers  and  induce  them  to  lay  down 
their  arms.  Sergeant  Blazer  answered  Westermann : 
"  We  are  Swiss,  and  the  Swiss  only  lay  down  their 
weapons  with  their  lives." 


THE  COMBAT.  309 


The  officers  caused  a  barricade  of  pieces  of  wood 
to  be  raised  on  the  first  landing  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  to  prevent  new  deputations  from  coming  to 
demoralize  their  men.  The  Marseillais  attempted  to 
take  it  by  main  force.  Some  of  them  were  armed  with 
halberds  terminating  in  hooks.  These  they  thrust 
below  the  barricade,  trying  to  catch  the  men  defend- 
ing it.  They  seized  an  adjutant  in  this  way  and 
disarmed  him.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  "  they  seized 
the  first  Swiss  sentry  and  afterwards  five  others. 
They  laid  hold  of  them  with  hooked  pikes  which 
they  thrust  into  their  coats  and  drew  them  forwards, 
disarming  them  at  once  of  their  sabres,  guns,  and 
cartridge-boxes,  amidst  shouts  of  laughter.  Encour- 
aged by  the  success  of  this  forlorn  hope,  the  whole 
crowd  pressed  towards  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  there 
massacred  the  five  Swiss  already  taken  and  disarmed." 
(M.  Peltier's  Relation.)  Then  a  pistol-shot  was 
heard.  From  which  side  did  it  come  ?  Was  it  the 
Marseillais  who  provoked  the  combat  ?  Was  it  the 
Swiss  who  sought  to  avenge  their  comrades,  the  sen- 
tries? Whoever  it  was,  this  pistol-shot  was  the 
signal  for  the  fight,  which  began  about  half-past  ten 
in  the  morning. 

At  first  the  Swiss  had  the  advantage.  Every  shot 
they  fired  from  the  windows  told.  Among  the  people 
crowding  the  courtyards  were  many  who  had  not 
come  to  fight,  but  through  mere  curiosity.  Pale  with 
fright,  they  fled  toward  the  Carrousel  through  the 
gate   of  the  Royal  Court,  which  was  strewn  in  an 


810  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

instant  with  guns,  pikes,  and  cartridge-boxes.  Some 
of  the  insurgents  fell  flat  on  their  faces  and  counter- 
feited death,  rising  occasionally  and  gliding  along  the 
walls  to  gain  the  sentry-boxes  of  the  mounted  senti- 
nels as  best  they  could.  Even  the  majority  of  the 
cannoneers  deserted  their  pieces  and  ran  like  the  rest. 
The  courts  were  cleared  in  an  instant.  Two  Swiss 
officers,  MM.  de  Durler  and  de  Pfyffer,  instantly 
made  a  sortie  at  the  head  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
soldiers,  took  four  cannon,  and  found  themselves 
once  more  masters  of  the  door  of  the  Royal  Court. 
A  detachment  of  sixty  soldiers  formed  themselves 
into  a  hollow  square  before  this  door  and  kept  up  a 
rolling  fire  on  the  rioters  remaining  on  the  Carrousel 
until  the  place  was  completely  swept.  At  the  same 
time,  on  the  side  of  the  garden,  another  detachment 
of  Swiss,  under  Count  de  Salis,  seized  three  cannon 
and  brought  them  to  the  palace  gate.  Napoleon, 
who  witnessed  the  combat  from  a  distance,  says: 
"The  Swiss  handled  their  artUlery  with  vigor;  in 
ten  minutes  the  Marseillais  were  chased  as  far  as  the 
rue  de  I'Echelle,  and  never  came  back  until  the  Swiss 
were  withdrawn  by  the  King's  order." 

It  was  now,  in  fact,  that  M.  d'Hervilly  arrived, 
hatless  and  unarmed,  through  the  fusillade  of  grape. 
They  wanted  to  show  him  the  dispositions  they  had 
just  made  on  the  garden  side.  "  There  is  no  ques- 
tion of  that,"  said  he ;  "  you  must  go  to  the  Assem- 
bly; it  is  the  King's  order."  The  unfortunate 
soldiers  flattered  themselves  that  they  might  still 


th:e  combat.  311 


be  of  use.  "  Yes,  brave  Swiss,"  cried  Baron  de 
Viomesnil,  "go  and  find  the  King.  Your  ancestors 
did  so  more  than  once."  In  spite  of  their  chagrin 
at  abandoning  the  field  of  which  they  they  had  just 
become  masters,  they  obeyed.  Their  only  thought 
was  to  repair  to  that  Assembly  where  a  last  humilia- 
tion awaited  them.  The  officers  had  the  drums  beat 
the  call  to  arms,  and,  in  spite  of  the  rain  of  balls 
from  every  side,  they  succeeded  in  marshalling  the 
soldiers  as  if  for  a  dress  parade  in  front  of  the 
palace,  opposite  the  garden.  The  signal  for  depart- 
ure was  given.  An  unforeseen  peril  was  reserved  for 
these  heroes.  The  battalions  of  the  National  Guard, 
stationed  at  the  door  of  the  Pont  Royal,  at  that  of 
the  Manage  court,  and  the  beginning  of  the  terrace 
of  the  Feuillants,  had  stood  still,  with  their  weapons 
grounded,  since  the  affray  began.  But  hardly  had 
the  Swiss  entered  the  grand  alley  than  these  bat- 
talions, neutral  until  now,  detailed  a  number  of 
individuals  who  hid  behind  the  trees,  and  fired,  with 
their  muzzles  almost  touching  the  troops.  On  reach- 
ing the  middle  of  the  alley,  the  Swiss,  who  hardly 
deigned  to  return  this  fire,  divided  into  two  columns. 
The  first,  turning  to  the  right  under  the  trees,  went 
towards  the  staircase  leading  to  the  Assembly  from 
the  terrace  of  the  Feuillants.  The  second,  which  fol- 
lowed at  a  short  distance  and  acted  as  a  rearguard, 
went  on  as  far  as  the  Place  Louis  XV.,  where  it 
found  the  mounted  gendarmes.  If  this  body  of  cav- 
alry had  done  its  duty,  it  would  have  united  with  the 


312  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Swiss.  But,  far  from  that,  it  declared  for  the  insur- 
rection, and  sahred  them.  It  is  said  that  the  officers 
and  soldiers  killed  in  this  retreat  across  the  garden 
were  interred  at  the  foot  of  the  famous  chestnut 
whose  exceptional  forwardness  has  earned  the  sur- 
name of  the  tree  of  March  20.  Thus  the  Bonapartist 
tree  of  popular  tradition  owes  its  astonishing  strength 
of  vegetation  solely  to  the  human  compost  furnished 
by  the  corpses  of  the  last  defenders  of  royalty. 

The  first  column,  that  which  was  on  its  way  to  the 
Assembly,  presented  itself  resolutely  in  front  of  the 
terrace  of  the  Feuillants,  which  was  full  of  people. 
These  took  flight,  and  the  Swiss  entered  the  corri- 
dors of  the  Assembly.  Carried  away  by  his  zeal,  one 
of  their  officers,  Baron  de  Salis,  entered  the  hall  with 
his  naked  sword  in  his  hand.  The  left  uttered  a  cry 
of  affright.  A  deputy  went  out  to  order  the  com- 
mander. Baron  de  Durler,  to  make  his  troop  lay 
down  their  arms.  M.  de  Durler,  having  refused,  he 
was  conducted  to  the  King.  "  Sire,"  said  he,  with 
sorrowful  indignation,  "they  want  me  to  lay  down 
arms."  Louis  XVI.  responded:  "Put  them  in  the 
hands  of  the  National  Guard ;  I  am  not  willing  that 
brave  men  like  you  should  perish."  To  surrender 
arms !  Did  Louis  XVI.  fully  comprehend  that  for 
soldiers  like  these  such  an  outrage  was  a  hundred 
times  worse  than  death?  The  King's  words  were 
like  a  thunderbolt  to  them.  They  wept  with  rage. 
"But,"  said  they,  "even  if  we  have  no  more  car- 
tridges, we  can  still  defend  ourselves  with  our  bayo- 


THE  COMBAT.  313 


nets !  "  Such  devotion,  such  courage,  such  discipline, 
such  heroism  to  end  like  this !  And  yet  the  unfor- 
tunate Swiss,  though  grieved  to  the  heart,  resigned 
themselves  to  the  last  sacrifice  their  master  required 
from  their  fidelity,  laid  down  their  arms,  and  were 
imprisoned  in  the  ancient  church  of  the  Feuillants, 
to  the  number  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty.  It 
was  all  that  remained  of  this  magnificent  regiment. 
The  others  had  been  killed  in  the  garden  or  had 
their  throats  cut  in  the  palace,  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  survivors  were  to  be  assassinated  in  the  massa- 
cres of  September. 

"  Thus  ended  the  French  King's  regiment  of  Swiss 
Guards,  like  one  of  those  sturdy  oaks  whose  pro- 
longed existence  has  affronted  so  many  storms,  and 
which  nothing  but  an  earthquake  can  uproot.  It 
fell  the  very  day  on  which  the  ancient  French  mon- 
archy also  fell.  It  counted  more  than  a  century  and 
a  half  of  faithful  services  rendered  to  France.  To 
destroy  this  worthy  corps  a  combination  of  unfortu- 
nate events  had  been  required ;  it  had  been  necessary 
to  deprive  the  Swiss  of  their  artillery,  their  ammu- 
nition, their  staff,  and  the  presence  of  the  King ;  to 
enfeeble  them  five  days  before  the  combat  by  send- 
ing away  a  detachment  of  three  hundred  men;  to 
forbid  the  two  hundred  men  who  accompanied  the 
King  to  the  Assembly  to  fire  a  shot ;  to  render  use- 
less the  wise  dispositions  of  MM.  de  Maillardoz  and 
de  Bachmann  by  an  ill-advised  order  at  the  moment 
of  the  attack ;  and  to  have  M.  d'Hervilly  come  at 


314  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

the  moment  of  victory  to  divide  and  enfeeble  the 
defence."  (Relation  of  Colonel  Pfyffer  d'Altis- 
hoffen.) 

The  Swiss  republic  has  honored  the  memory  of 
these  sons  who  died  for  a  king.  At  the  entrance  of 
Lucerne,  in  the  side  of  a  rock,  a  grotto  has  been 
hollowed  out,  in  which  may  be  seen  a  colossal  stone 
lion,  the  work  of  Thorwaldsen,  the  famous  Danish 
sculptor.  This  lion,  struck  by  a  lance,  and  lying 
down  to  die,  holds  tight  within  his  claws  the  royal 
escutcheon  upon  a  shield  adorned  with  fleurs-de-lis. 
Underneath  the  lion  are  engraved  the  names  of  the 
Swiss  officers  and  soldiers  who  died  between  August 
10  and  September  2,  1792.  Above  it  may  be  read 
this  inscription  cut  in  the  rock :  — 

HkLVETIORUM   FiDEI   AC   ViKTUTI. 

To  the  fidelity  and  courage  of  the  Swiss. 

Louis  XVI.  had  to  repent  his  weakness  bitterly. 
The  wretched  monarch  had  at  last  reached  the  bot- 
tom of  the  abyss  where  the  slippery  descent  of  con- 
cessions ends,  and  for  having  been  willing  to  spare 
the  blood  of  a  few  criminals,  he  was  to  see  that  of 
his  most  loyal  and  faithful  adherents  shed  in  torrents. 
It  is  said  that  Napoleon,  who  witnessed  the  combat 
from  a  distance,  cried  several  times,  in  speaking 
of  Louis  XVI. :  "  What,  then,  wretched  man !  Have 
you  no  cannon  to  sweep  out  this  rabble  ?  "  Behind 
the  people  of  the  10th  of  August,  the  man  of  Bru- 
maire  already  appeared  as  a  conqueror. 


THE  COMBAT.  316 


Work  away,  then,  insurgents !  This  unknown 
young  man,  this  "  straight-haired  Corsican,"  hidden 
in  the  crowd,  will  be  the  master  of  you  all !  He  will 
crush  the  Kevolution,  he  will  made  himself  all-power- 
ful in  that  palace  of  the  Tuileries  where  the  riot  is 
lording  it  at  this  moment!  And  after  him,  the 
brother  of  the  King  whom  you  insult  to-day  and  will 
kill  to-morrow,  the  Count  de  Provence,  that  SmigrS 
who  is  the  object  of  your  hatred,  will  triumphantly 
enter  the  palace  of  his  forefathers.  And  each  of  them 
in  his  turn,  the  Corsican  gentleman  and  the  brother 
of  Louis  XVI.,  will  be  received  with  the  same  trans- 
ports in  that  fatal  palace  which  is  now  red  with  the 
blood  of  the  Swiss !  How  surprised  these  people 
would  be  if  they  could  foresee  what  the  future  has 
in  store  for  them  I  Among  these  frenzied  demagogues, 
these  ultra-revolutionists,  these  dishevelled  Marseil- 
lais  with  lips  blackened  by  powder,  and  jackets  all 
blood,  how  many  will  be  the  fanatical  admirers  and 
soldiers  of  a  Csesar  I 


XXXI. 

THE  EESULTS  OF  THE  COMBAT. 

THE  results  of  the  combat  were,  at  the  Assembly, 
the  decree  of  suspension,  or,  rather,  the  decree 
of  deposition ;  at  the  Tuileries,  devastation,  massa- 
cre, and  conflagration.  From  the  moment  when  he 
ordered  his  last  defenders  to  lay  down  their  arms, 
Louis  XVI.  was  but  the  phantom  of  a  king. 

While  the  fight  was  going  on,  Robespierre  had 
remained  in  hiding ;  Marat  had  not  quitted  the  bot- 
tom of  a  cellar.  Even  Danton,  the  man  of  "  audac- 
ity," did  not  show  himself  until  after  the  last  shot 
had  been  fired.  But  now  that  fate  had  declared  for 
the  Revolution,  those  who  were  trembling  and  hesi- 
tating a  moment  since,  were  those  who  talked  the 
loudest.  Louis  XVI.,  who  had  been  dreaded  a  few 
minutes  ago,  was  insulted  and  jeered  at.  The  Na- 
tional Assembly,  royalist  in  the  morning,  became  the 
accomplice  of  the  republicans  during  the  day.  It 
perceived,  moreover,  that  the  -10th  of  August  was 
aimed  at  it  not  less  than  at  the  throne,  and  that  its 
own  downfall  would  be  contemporaneous  with  that 
of  royalty. 

Huguenin,  the  president  of  the  new  Commune, 
came  boldly  to  the  bar,  and  said  to  the   deputies: 

316 


THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  COMBAT.  317 

"  The  people  is  youf  sovereign  as  well  as  ours ! " 
Another  individual,  likewise  at  the  bar,  exclaimed  in 
a  menacing  tone :  "  For  a  long  time  the  people  has 
asked  you  to  pronounce  the  deposition,  and  you  have 
not  even  yet  pronounced  the  suspension !  Know  that 
the  Tuileries  is  on  fire,  and  that  we  shall  not  extin- 
guish it  until  the  vengeance  of  the  people  has  been 
satisfied ! "  Vergniaud,  who  in  the  morning  had 
promised  the  King  the  support  of  the  Assembly,  no 
longer  even  attempted  to  stem  the  revolutionary  tide. 
He  came  down  from  the  president's  chair,  and  went 
to  a  desk  to  write  the  decree  which  should  give  a 
legislative  form  to  the  will  of  the  insurrection.  In 
virtue  of  this  decree,  which  Vergniaud  read  from  the 
tribune,  and  which  was  unanimously  adopted,  the 
royal  power  was  suspended  and  a  National  Conven- 
tion convoked.  In  reality  this  was  a  veritable  depo- 
sition, and  yet  the  Assembly  still  hesitated  to  give 
the  last  shock  which  should  uproot  the  royal  tree 
that  had  sheltered  beneath  its  branches  so  many 
faithful  generations.  It  declared  that  in  default  of  a 
civil  list,  a  salary  should  be  granted  to  the  King  dur- 
ing his  suspension ;  that  Louis  XVI.  and  his  family 
should  have  a  palace,  the  Luxembourg,  for  a  resi- 
dence, and  that  he  should  be  appointed  governor  of 
the  Prince-royal. 

Concerning  this,  Madame  de  Stael  has  remarked  in 
her  Considerations  sur  les  principaux  SvSnements  de  la 
RSvolution frangaise  :  "Ambition  for  power  mingled 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  principles  in  the  republicans 


818  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

of  1792,  and  several  among  them  offered  to  maintain 
royalty  if  all  the  ministerial  places  were  given  to  their 
friends.  .  .  .  The  throne  they  attacked  served  to 
shelter  them,  and  it  was  not  until  after  they  had  tri- 
umphed that  they  found  themselves  exposed  before 
the  people."  What  the  Girondins  wanted  was  merely 
a  change  in  the  ministry;  it  was  not  a  revolution. 
Vergniaud  felt  that  he  had  been  distanced.  When 
he  read  the  act  of  deposition,  his  voice  was  sad,  his 
attitude  dejected,  and  his  action  feeble.  Did  he  fore- 
see that  the  King  and  himself  would  die  at  the  same 
place,  on  the  same  scaffold,  and  only  nine  months 
apart  ? 

Louis  XVI.  listened  to  the  invectives  launched 
against  him,  and  to  the  decree  depriving  him  of  royal 
power,  without  a  change  of  color.  At  the  very 
moment  when  the  vote  was  taken,  he  bent  towards 
Deputy  Coustard,  who  sat  beside  the  box  of  the 
Logographe^  and  said  with  the  greatest  tranquillity : 
"  What  you  are  doing  there  is  not  very  constitutional." 
Impassive,  and  speaking  of  himself  as  of  a  king 
who  had  lived  a  thousand  years  before,  he  leaned  his 
elbows  on  the  front  of  the  box,  and  looked  on,  like  a 
disinterested  spectator,  at  the  lugubrious  spectacle 
that  was  unrolled  before  him.  - 

Marie  Antoinette,  on  the  contrary,  was  shudder- 
ing. So  long  as  the  combat  lasted,  a  secret  hope  had 
thrilled  her.  But  when  she  saw  them  bringing  to 
the  Assembly  and  laying  on  the  table  the  jewel-cases, 
trinkets,  and  portfolios  which  the  insurgents  had  just 


THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  COMBAT.  319 

taken  from  her  bedroom  at  the  Tuileries ;  when  she 
heard  the  victorious  cries  of  the  rioters ;  when  Ver- 
gniaud's  voice  sounded  in  her  ears  like  a  funeral  knell 
— she  could  hardly  contain  her  grief  and  indignation. 
For  one  instant  she  closed  her  eyes.  But  presently 
she  haughtily  raised  her  head. 

The  tide  was  rising,  rising  incessantly.  Petitioners 
demanded  sometimes  the  deposition,  and  sometimes 
the  death,  of  the  King.  This  dialogue  was  overheard 
between  the  painter  David  and  Merlin  de  Thion- 
ville,  who  were  talking  together  about  Louis  XVI.: 
"  Would  you  believe  it  ?  Just  now  he  asked  me,  as  I 
was  passing  his  box,  if  I  would  soon  have  his  portrait 
finished."  — "Bah!  and  what  did  you  say?"  — "That 
I  would  never  paint  the  portrait  of  a  tyrant  again 
until  I  should  have  his  head  in  my  hat."  —  "  Admi- 
rable !  I  don't  know  a  more  sublime  answer,  even  in 
antiquity." 

The  demands  of  the  Revolution  grew  greater  from 
minute  to  minute.  In  the  decree  of  deposition  which 
had  been  voted  on  Yergniaud's  proposition,  it  was 
stipulated  that  the  ministers  should  continue  to  exer- 
cise their  functions.  A  few  instants  later,  Brissot 
caused  it  to  be  decreed  that  they  had  lost  the  nation's 
confidence.  A  new  ministry  was  nominated  during 
the  session.  The  three  ministers  dismissed  before 
June  20  —  Roland,  Clavi^re,  and  Servan  —  were  rein- 
stalled by  acclamation  in  the  ministries  of  the  Inte- 
rior, of  Finances,  and  of  War.  The  other  ministers 
were  chosen  by  ballot ;  Danton  was  nominated  to  that 


820  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

of  Justice  by  282  votes,  Monge  to  the  Marine  by  150, 
and  Lebriin-Tondu  to  Foreign  Affairs  by  100.  This 
ballot  established  the  fact  that  out  of  the  749  mem- 
bers composing  the  Assembly,  but  284  were  present. 
Two  days  before,  680  had  voted  on  the  question  con- 
cerning Lafayette,  and  now,  at  the  moment  of  the 
final  crisis,  not  more  than  284  could  be  found !  All 
the  others  had  disappeared,  through  fear  or  through 
disgust.  The  Revolution  was  accomplished  by  an 
Assembly  thus  reduced,  and  a  Commune  whose  mem- 
bers had  appointed  themselves.  Marie  Antoinette,  in 
her  pride  as  Queen,  was  unable  to  conceive  that  there 
could  be  anything  serious  in  such  a  government. 
When  Lebrun-Tondu's  appointment  was  announced, 
she  leaned  towards  Bigot  de  Sainte-Croix,  and  said  in 
his  ear :  "  I  hope  you  will  none  the  less  believe  your- 
self Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs." 

The  unfortunate  royal  family  were  still  prisoners 
in  the  narrow  box  of  the  LogograpTie.  The  heat  there 
was  horrible :  the  sun  scorched  the  white  walls  of 
this  furnace  where  the  captives  listened,  as  in  a  place 
of  torture,  to  the  most  ignoble  insults  and  the  most 
sanguinary  threats. 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Count  Francois  de 
la  Rochefoucauld  succeeded  in  approaching  the  box 
of  the  LogograpTie.  He  thus  describes  its  aspect  at 
this  hour :  "  I  approached  the  King's  box ;  it  was  un- 
guarded except  by  some  wretches  who  were  drunk 
and  paid  no  attention  to  me,  so  that  I  half-opened 
the  door.     I  saw  the  King  with  a  fatigued  and  down- 


THE  RESULTS   OF  THE  COMBAT.  321 

cast  face ;  he  was  sitting  on  the  front  of  the  box, 
coldly  observing  through  his  lorgnette  the  scoundrels 
who  were  talking,  sometimes  one  after  another,  and 
sometimes  all  together.  Near  him  was  the  Queen, 
whose  tears  and  perspiration  had  completely  drenched 
her  fichu  and  her  handkerchief.  The  Dauphin  was 
asleep  on  her  lap,  and  resting  partly  also  on  that  of 
Madame  de  Tourzel.  Mesdames  Elisabeth,  de  Lam- 
balle,  and  Madame  the  King's  daughter  were  at  the 
back  of  the  box.  I  offered  my  services  to  the  King, 
who  replied  that  it  would  be  too  dangerous  to  try  to 
see  him  again,  and  added  that  he  was  going  to  the 
Luxembourg  that  evening.  The  Queen  asked  me  for 
a  handkerchief ;  I  had  none  ;  mine  had  served  to  bind 
up  the  wounds  of  the  Viscount  de  Maill^,  whom  I 
had  rescued  from  some  pikemen.  I  went  out  to  look 
for  a  handkerchief,  and  borrowed  one  from  the  keeper 
of  the  refreshment-room ;  but  as  I  was  taking  it  to 
the  Queen,  the  sentinels  were  relieved,  and  I  found 
it  impossible  to  approach  the  box." 

We  have  just  seen  what  occurred  at  the  Assembly 
after  the  close  of  the  combat.  Cast  now  a  glance  at 
the  Tuileries.  What  horrible  scenes,  what  cries  of 
grief,  how  many  wounded,  dead,  and  dying,  what 
streams  of  blood !  What  had  become  of  those  Swiss 
who,  either  in  consequence  of  their  wounds,  or 
through  some  other  motive,  had  been  obliged  to 
remain  at  the  palace  ?  Eighty  of  them  had  defended 
the  grand  staircase  like  heroes,  against  an  immense 
crowd,  and  died  after  prodigies  of  valor.     Seventeen 


322  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Swiss  who  were  posted  in  the  chapel,  and  who  had 
not  fired  a  shot  since  the  fight  began,  hoped  to  save 
their  lives  by  laying  down  their  arms.  It  was  a 
mistake.  They  had  their  throats  cut  like  the  others. 
Two  ushers  of  the  King's  chamber,  MM.  Pallas  and 
de  Marchais,  sword  in  hand,  and  hats  pulled  down 
over  their  eyes,  said :  "  We  don't  want  to  live  any 
longer ;  this  is  our  post ;  we  ought  to  die  here ! " 
and  they  were  killed  at  the  door  of  their  master's 
chamber. 

M.  Dieu  died  in  the  same  way  on  the  threshold  of 
the  Queen's  bedroom.  A  certain  number  of  nobles 
who  had  not  followed  the  King  to  the  Assembly  suc- 
ceeded in  escaping  the  blows  of  the  assassins.  Pass- 
ing through  the  suite  of  large  apartments  towards 
the  Louvre  Gallery,  they  rejoined  there  some  soldiers 
detailed  to  guard  an  opening  contrived  in  the  floor- 
ing, so  as  to  prevent  the  assailants  from  entering 
by  that  way.  They  crossed  this  opening  on  boards, 
and  reached  the  extremity  of  the  gallery  unhin- 
dered ;  then,  going  down  the  staircase  of  Catharine 
de  Medici,  they  managed  to  gain  the  streets  near  the 
Louvre.  These  may  have  been  saved.  But  woe  to 
all  men,  no  matter  what  their  conditions,  who  re- 
mained in  the  Tuileries  !  Domestic  servants,  ushers, 
laborers,  every  soul  was  put  to  death.  They  killed 
even  the  dying,  even  the  surgeons  who  were  caring 
for  the  wounded.  It  is  Barbaroux  himself  who 
describes  the  murderers  as  "  cowardly  fugitives  dur- 
ing the  action,  assassins  after  the  victory,  butchers 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  COMBAT.  323 

of  dead  bodies  which  they  stabbed  with  their  swords 
so  as  to  give  themselves  the  honors  of  the  combat. 
In  the  apartments,  on  roofs,  and  in  cellars,  they  mas- 
sacred the  Swiss,  armed  or  disarmed,  the  chevaliers, 
soldiers,  and  all  who  peopled  the  chUteau.  .  .  .  Our 
devotion  was  of  no  avail,"  says  Barbaroux  again; 
"  we  were  speaking  to  men  who  no  longer  recognized 
us." 

And  the  women,  what  was  their  fate  ?  When  the 
firing  began,  the  Queen's  ladies  and  the  Princesses 
descended  to  Marie  Antoinette's  apartments  on  the 
ground-floor.  They  closed  the  shutters,  hoping  to 
incur  less  danger,  and  lighted  a  candle  so  as  not  to 
be  in  total  darkness.  Then  Mademoiselle  Pauline 
de  Tourzel  exclaimed :  "  Let  us  light  all  the  candles 
in  the  chandelier,  the  sconces,  and  the  torches ;  if 
the  brigands  force  open  the  door,  the  astonishment 
so  many  lights  will  cause  them  may  delay  the  first 
blow  and  give  us  time  to  speak."  The  ladies  set  to 
work.  When  the  invaders  broke  in,  sabre  in  hand, 
the  numberless  lights,  which  were  repeated  also  in 
the  mirrors,  made  such  a  contrast  with  the  daylight 
they  had  just  left,  that  for  a  moment  they  remained 
stupefied.  And  yet,  the  Princess  de  Tarente,  Ma- 
dame de  La  Roche- Aymon,  Mademoiselle  de  Tourzel, 
Madame  de  Ginestons,  and  all  the  other  ladies  were 
about  to  perish  when  a  man  with  a  long  beard  made 
his  appearance,  crying  to  the  assassins  in  Potion's 
name :  "  Spare  the  women ;  do  not  dishonor  the 
nation." 


824  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

Madame  Campan  had  attempted  to  go  up  a  stair- 
way in  pursuit  of  her  sister.  The  murderers  fol- 
lowed her.  She  already  felt  a  terrible  hand  against 
her  back,  trying  to  seize  her  by  her  clothes,  when 
some  one  cried  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs :  "  What 
are  you  doing  up  there  ?  "  —  "  Hey !  "  said  the  mur- 
derer, in  a  tone  that  did  not  soon  leave  the  trembling 
woman's  ears.  The  other  voice  replied :  "  We  don't 
kill  women."  The  Revolution  goes  fast ;  it  will 
kill  them  next  year.  Madame  Campan  was  on  her 
knees.  Her  executioner  let  go  his  hold.  "  Get  up, 
hussy,"  he  said  to  her,  "  the  nation  spares  you ! " 
In  going  back  she  walked  over  corpses ;  she  recog- 
nized that  of  the  old  Viscount  de  Broves.  The 
Queen  had  sent  word  to  him  and  to  another  old 
man  as  the  last  night  began,  that  she  desired  them 
to  go  home.  He  had  replied :  "  We  have  been  only 
too  obedient  to  the  King's  orders  in  all  circum- 
stances when  it  was  necessary  to  expose  our  lives 
to  save  him;  this  time  we  will  not  obey,  and 
will  simply  preserve  the  memory  of  the  Queen's 
kindness." 

What  a  sight  the  Tuileries  presented!  People 
walked  on  nothing  but  dead  bodies.  A  comic  actor 
drank  a  glass  of  blood,  the  blood  of  a  Swiss;  one 
might  have  thought  himself  at  a  feast  of  Atreus. 
The  furniture  was  broken,  the  secretaries  forced  open, 
the  mirrors  smashed  to  pieces.  Prudhomme,  the 
journalist  of  the  RSvolutions  de  Paris,  thinks  that 
"  Medicis- Antoinette  has  too  long  studied  in  them 


THE  EE8ULT8  OF  THE  COMBAT.  325 

the  hypocritical  look  she  wears  in  public."  What  a 
sinister  carnival !  Drunken  women  and  prostitutes 
put  on  the  Queen's  dresses  and  sprawl  on  her  bed. 
Through  the  cellar  gratings  one  can  see  a  thousand 
hands  groping  in  the  sand,  and  drawing  forth  bottles 
of  wine.  Everywhere  people  are  laughing,  drinking, 
killing.  The  royal  wine  runs  in  streams.  Torrents 
of  wine,  torrents  of  blood.  The  apartments,  the 
staircase,  the  vestibule,  are  crimson  pools.  Dis- 
figured corpses,  pictures  thrust  through  with  pikes, 
musicians'  stands  thrown  on  the  altar,  the  organ  dis- 
mounted, broken, — that  is  how  the  chapel  looks. 
But  to  rob  and  murder  is  not  enough:  they  will 
kindle  a  conflagration.  It  devours  the  stables  of  the 
mounted  guards,  all  the  buildings  in  the  courts,  the 
house  of  the  governor  of  the  palace :  eighteen  hun- 
dred yards  of  barracks,  huts,  and  houses.  Already 
the  fire  is  gaining  on  the  Pavilion  of  Marsan  and 
the  Pavilion  of  Flora.  The  flames  are  perceived  at 
the  Assembly.  A  deputy  asks  to  have  the  firemen 
sent  to  fight  this  fire  which  threatens  the  whole 
quarter  Saint-Honor^.  Somebody  remarks  that  this 
is  the  Commune's  business.  But  the  Commune,  to 
use  a  phrase  then  in  vogue,  thinks  it  has  something 
else  to  do  besides  preventing  the  destruction  of  the 
tyrant's  palace.  It  turns  a  deaf  ear.  The  messenger 
returns  to  the  Assembly.  It  is  remarked  that  the 
flames  are  doing  terrible  damage.  The  president 
decides  to  send  orders  to  the  firemen.  But  the  fire- 
men return,  saying :    "  We  can   do  nothing.     They 


326  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTT. 

are  firing  on  us.  They  want  to  throw  us  into  the 
fire."  What  is  to  be  done  ?  The  president  bethinks 
himself  of  a  "  patriot "  architect,  Citizen  Palloy,  who 
generally  makes  his  appearance  whenever  there  are 
"  patriotic "  demolitions  to  be  accomplished.  It  is 
he  whom  they  send  to  the  palace,  and  who  succeeds 
in  getting  the  flames  extinguished.  The  Tuileries 
are  not  burned  up  this  time.  The  work  of  the 
incendiaries  of  1792  was  only  to  be  finished  by  the 
petroleurs  of  1871. 

Night  was  come.  A  great  number  of  the  Parisian 
population  were  groaning,  but  the  revolutionists  tri- 
umphed with  joy.  Curiosity  to  see  the  morning  bat- 
tle-field, urged  the  indolent,  who  had  stayed  at  home 
all  day,  towards  the  quays,  the  Champs-Elys^es,  and 
the  Tuileries.  They  looked  at  the  trees  under  which 
the  Swiss  had  fallen,  at  the  windows  of  the  apart- 
ments where  the  massacres  had  taken  place,  at  the 
ravages  made  by  the  hardly  extinguished  fire.  The 
buildings  in  the  three  com-ts :  Court  of  the  Princes, 
Court  Royal,  Court  of  the  Swiss,  had  been  completely 
consumed.  Thenceforward  these  three  courts  formed 
only  one,  separated  from  the  Carrousel  by  a  board 
partition  which  remained  until  1800,  and  was 
replaced  by  a  grating  finished  on  the  very  day  when 
the  First  Consul  came  to  install  himself  at  the 
Tuileries.  The  inscription  which  was  placed  above 
the  wooden  partition :  "  On  August  10  royalty  was 
abolished;  it  will  never  rise  again,"  disappeared 
even  before  the  proclamation  of  the  Empire. 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  COMBAT.  327 

Squads  of  laborers  gathered  up  the  dead  bodies 
and  threw  them  into  tumbrels.  At  midnight  an 
immense  pile  was  erected  on  the  Carrousel  with 
timbers  and  furniture  from  the  palace.  There  the 
corpses  of  the  victims  that  had  strewed  the  courts, 
the  vestibule,  and  the  apartments  were  heaped  up,  and 
set  on  fire. 

The  National  Guard  had  disappeared ;  it  figured 
with  the  King  and  the  Assembly  itself,  among  the 
vanquished  of  the  day.  Instead  of  its  bayonets  and 
uniforms  one  saw  nothing  in  the  stations  and  patrols 
that  divided  Paris  but  pikes  and  tatters.  "  Some  one 
came  to  tell  me,"  relates  Madame  de  Stael,  "  that  all 
of  my  friends  who  had  been  on  guard  outside  the 
palace,  had  been  seized  and  massacred.  I  went  out 
at  once  to  learn  the  news ;  the  coachman  who  drove 
me  was  stopped  at  the  bridge  by  men  who  silently 
made  signs  that  they  were  murdering  on  the  other 
side.  After  two  hours  of  useless  efforts  to  pass  I 
learned  that  all  those  in  whom  I  was  interested  were 
still  living,  but  that  most  of  them  had  been  obliged 
to  hide  in  order  to  escape  the  proscription  with  which 
they  were  threatened.  When  I  went  to  see  them  in 
the  evening,  on  foot,  and  in  the  mean  houses  where 
they  had  been  able  to  find  shelter,  I  found  armed  men 
lying  before  the  doors,  stupid  with  drink,  a-nd  only 
half  waking  to  utter  execrable  curses.  Several  women 
of  the  people  were  in  the  same  state,  and  their  vocif- 
erations were  more  odious  still.  Whenever  a  patrol 
intended  to  maintain  order  made  its  appearance,  hon- 


328  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

est  people  fled  out  of  its  way ;  for  what  they  called 
maintaining  order  was  to  contribute  to  the  triumph  of 
assassins  and  rid  them  of  all  hindrances." 

At  last  the  city  was  going  to  rest  a  while  after  so 
much  emotion !  It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
The  Assembly,  which  had  been  in  session  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  adjourned.  Only  a  few  members  remained 
in  the  hall  to  maintain  the  permanence  proclaimed  at 
the  beginning  of  the  crisis.  The  inspectors  of  the 
hall  came  for  Louis  XVI.  and  his  family,  to  conduct 
them,  not  to  the  Luxembourg,  but  to  the  upper  story 
of  the  convent  of  the  Feuillants,  above  the  corridor 
where  the  offices  and  committees  of  the  Assembly 
had  been  established.  It  was  there,  in  the  cells  of 
the  monks,  that  the  royal  family  were  to  pass  the 
night.  Then  all  was  silent  once  more.  Koyalty  was 
dying! 


XXXII. 

THE  EOYAIi  .FAMILY  IN   THE   CONVENT   OF  THE 
FEUILLANTS. 

WHAT  a  strange  prison  was  tliis  dilapidated  old 
monastery,  these  little  cells,  not  lived  in  for 
two  years,  with  their  flooring  half-destroyed,  and 
their  narrow  windows  looking  down  into  courts  full 
of  men  drunken  with  wine  and  blood !  By  the  light 
of  candles  stuck  into  gun-barrels  the  royal  family 
entered  this  gloomy  lodging.  Trembling  for  her 
son,  who  was  frightened,  the  Queen  took  him  from 
M.  Aubier's  arms  and  whispered  to  him.  The  child 
grew  calmer.  "  Mamma,"  said  he,  "  has  promised  to 
let  me  sleep  in  her  room  because  I  was  very  good 
before  all  those  wicked  men."  Four  cells,  all  open- 
ing by  similar  small  doors  upon  the  same  corridor, 
comprised  the  quarters  of  the  royal  family.  What 
a  night !  The  souvenirs  of  the  previous  day  came 
back  like  dismal  dreams.  Their  ears  were  still  deaf- 
ened with  furious  cries.  They  seemed  to  see  the 
blood  of  the  Swiss  flowing  like  a  torrent,  the  pyra- 
mids of  corpses  in  red  uniforms,  the  flames  of  the 
terrible  conflagration  sweeping  the  approaches  to  the 
Tuileries.     Marie  Antoinette  seems  under  an  hallu- 

329 


330  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

cination ;  her  emotions  break  her  down.  Is  this 
woman,  confided  to  the  care  of  an  unknown  servant, 
in  this  deserted  old  convent,  really  she  ?  Is  this  the 
Queen  of  France  and  Navarre  ?  This  the  daughter 
of  the  great  Empress  Maria  Theresa  ?  What  uncer- 
tainty rests  over  the  fate  of  her  most  faithful  servi- 
tors !  What  news  will  she  yet  learn  ?  Who  has 
fallen  ?  Who  has  survived  the  carnage  ?  The  hours 
of  the  night  wear  on  ;  Marie  Antoinette  has  not  been 
able  to  sleep  a  moment. 

The  Marquis  de  Tourzel  and  M.  d'Aubier  remained 
near  the  King's  bedside.  Before  sleeping,  he  talked 
to  them  with  the  utmost  calmness  of  all  that  had 
taken  place.  "  People  regret,"  said  he,  "  that  I  did 
not  have  the  rebels  attacked  before  they  could  have 
forced  the  Assembly ;  but  besides  the  fact  that  in 
accordance  with  the  terms  of  the  Constitution,  the 
National  Guards  might  have  refused  to  be  the  aggres- 
sors, what  would  have  been  the  result  of  this  attack  ? 
The  measures  of  the  insurrection  were  too  well  taken 
for  my  party  to  have  been  victorious,  even  if  I  had 
not  left  the  Tuileries.  Do  they  forget  that  when  the 
seditious  Commune  massacred  M.  Mandat,  it  rendered 
his  projected  defence  of  no  avail  ? "  While  Louis 
XVI.  was  saying  this,  the  men  placed  under  the 
windows  were  shouting  loudly  for  the  Queen's  head. 
"What  has  she  done  to  them?"  cried  the  unfortunate 
sovereign. 

The  next  morning,  August  11,  several  persons 
were   authorized  to  enter  the  cells  of  the  convent. 


IN   THE  CONVENT  OF  THE  FEUILLANTS.     331 

Among  them  was  one  of  the  officers  of  the  King's 
bedchamber,  Fran9ois  Hue,  who  had  incurred  the 
greatest  dangers  on  the  previous  day.  Cards  of 
admission  were  distributed  by  the  inspector  of  the 
Assembly  hall.  A  large  guard  was  stationed  at  all 
the  issues  of  the  corridor.  No  one  could  pass  with- 
out being  stopped  and  questioned.  After  surmount- 
ing all  obstacles,  M.  Hue  reached  the  cell  of  Louis 
XVI.  The  King  was  still  in  bed,  with  his  head 
covered  by  a  coarse  cloth.  He  looked  tenderly  at 
his  faithful  servant.  M.  Hue,  who  could  scarcely 
speak  for  sobbing,  apprised  his  unhappy  master  of 
the  tragic  death  of  several  persons  whom  His  Majesty 
was  especially  fond  of,  among  others,  the  Chevalier 
d'AUonville,  who  had  been  under-governor  to  the 
first  Dauphin,  and  several  officers  of  the  bedchamber: 
MM.  Le  Tellier,  Pallas,  and  de  Marchais.  "  I  have, 
at  least,"  said  Louis  XVI.,  "  the  consolation  of  seeing 
you  saved  from  this  massacre  !  " 

All  night  long,  Madame  Elisabeth,  the  Princess  de 
Lamballe,  and  Madame  de  Tourzel  had  prayed  and 
wept  in  silence  at  the  door  of  the  chamber  where 
Marie  Antoinette  watched  beside  her  sleeping  chil- 
dren. It  was  not  until  morning,  after  cruel  insom- 
nia, that  the  wretched  Queen  was  at  last  able  to  close 
her  eyes.  And  when,  after  a  few  minutes,  she 
opened  them  again,  what  an  awakening  ! 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mademoiselle  Paul- 
ine de  Tourzel  arrived  at  the  Feuillants.  "  I  cannot 
say  enough,"  she  writes  in  her  Souvenirs  de  Quarante 


332  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Ans,  "about  the  goodness  of  the  King  and  Queen; 
they  asked  me  many  questions  about  the  persons 
concerning  whom  I  could  give  them  any  tidings. 
Madame  and  the  Dauphin  received  me  with  touch- 
ing signs  of  affection ;  they  embraced  me,  and  Ma- 
dame said :  '  My  dear  Pauline,  do  not  leave  us  any 
more  ! '  "  The  courtiers  of  misfortune  came  one 
after  another.  Madame  Campan  and  her  sister, 
Madame  Auguid,  saw  the  Prince  de  Poix,  M.  d'Au- 
bier,  M.  de  Saint-Pardou,  Madame  Elisabeth's  equerry, 
MM.  de  Goguelat,  Hue,  and  de  Chamilly  in  the  first 
cell ;  in  the  second  they  found  the  King.  They 
wanted  to  kiss  his  hand,  but  he  prevented  it,  and 
embraced  them  without  speaking.  In  the  third  cell 
they  saw  the  Queen,  waited  on  by  an  unknown 
woman.  Marie  Antoinette  held  out  her  arms. 
"  Come  ! "  she  cried ;  "  come,  unhappy  women !  come 
and  see  one  who  is  still  more  unhappy  than  you, 
since  it  is  she  who  has  been  the  cause  of  all  your 
sorrow  !  "  She  added :  "  We  are  mined.  We  have 
reached  the  place  at  last  to  which  they  have  been 
leading  us  for  three  years  by  every  possible  outrage  ; 
we  shall  succumb  in  this  horrible  revolution,  and 
many  others  will  perish  after  us.  Everybody  has 
contributed  to  our  ruin :  the  innovators  like  fools, 
others  like  the  ambitious,  in  order  to  aid  their  own 
fortunes ;  for  the  most  furious  of  the  Jacobins  wanted 
gold  and  places,  and  the  crowd  expected  pillage. 
There  is  not  a  patriot  in  the  whole  infamous  horde ; 
the  emigrants  had  their  schemes   and  manoeuvres  j 


IN  THE  CONVENT  OF  THE  FEUILLANT8.     333 

the  foreigners  wanted  to  profit  by  the  dissensions  of 
France ;  everybody  has  had  a  part  in  our  misfor- 
tunes." Here  the  Dauphin  entered  with  his  sister  and 
Madame  de  Tourzel.  "  Poor  children  I  "  cried  the 
Queen.  "  How  cruel  it  is  not  to  transmit  to  them 
so  noble  a  heritage,  and  to  say  :  All  is  over  for  us  !  " 
And  as  the  little  Dauphin,  seeing  his  mother  and 
those  around  her  weeping,  began  to  shed  tears  also : 
"  My  child,'*  tlie  Queen  said,  embracing  him,  "  you 
see  I  have  consolations  too ;  the  friends  whom  mis- 
fortune deprived  me  of  were  not  worth  as  much  as 
those  it  gave  me."  Then  Marie  Antoinette  asked 
for  news  of  the  Princess  de  Tareute,  Madame  de  la 
Roche- Aymon,  and  others  whom  she  had  left  at  the 
Tuileries.  She  compassionated  the  fate  of  the  vic- 
tims of  the  previous  day. 

Madame  Campan  expressed  a  desire  to  know  what 
the  foreign  ambassadors  had  done  in  this  catastrophe. 
The  Queen  replied  that  they  had  done  nothing,  but 
that  the  English  ambassadress.  Lady  Sutherland,  had 
just  displayed  some  interest  by  sending  linen  for  the 
Dauphin,  who  was  in  need  of  it. 

What  memories  must  not  that  little  cell  in  the 
Feuillants  convent  have  left  in  the  souls  of  those 
who  were  privileged  to  present  there  the  homage  of 
their  devotion  to  the  Queen !  "  I  think  I  still  see," 
Madame  Campan  has  said  in  her  Memoirs,  "I  shall 
always  see,  that  little  cell,  hung  with  green  paper, 
that  wretched  couch  from  which  the  dethroned  sov- 
ereign stretched  out  her  arms  to  us,  saying  that  our 


334  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

woes,  of  which  she  was  the  cause,  aggravated  her 
own.  There,  for  the  last  time,  I  saw  the  tears  flow- 
ing and  heard  the  sobs  of  her  whose  birth  and  natural 
gifts,  and  above  all  the  goodness  of  whose  heart  had 
destined  her  to  be  the  ornament  of  all  thrones  and  the 
happiness  of  all  peoples." 

During  the  11th  and  12th  of  August  the  tortures 
of  the  10th  were  renewed  for  the  royal  family.  They 
were  obliged  to  occupy  the  odious  box  of  the  Logo- 
graphe  during  the  sessions  of  the  Assembly,  and  from 
there  witness,  as  at  a  show,  the  slow  and  painful 
death-struggle  of  royalty.  As  she  was  on  her  way  to 
this  wretched  hole,  Marie  Antoinette  perceived  in  the 
garden  some  curious  spectators  on  whose  faces  a  cer- 
tain compassion  was  depicted.  She  saluted  them. 
Then  a  voice  cried :  "  Don't  put  on  so  many  airs  with 
that  graceful  head;  it  is  not  worth  while.  You'll 
not  have  it  much  longer."  From  the  box  of  the 
Logographe  the  royal  family  listened  to  the  most 
offensive  motions;  to  decrees  according  the  Mar- 
seillais  a  payment  of  thirty  sous  a  day,  ordering  all 
statues  of  kings  to  be  overthrown,  and  petitions  de- 
manding the  heads  of  all  the  Swiss  who  had  escaped 
the  massacre.  At  last  the  Assembly  grew  tired  of 
the  long  humiliation  of  the  august  captives.  On 
Monday,  August  13,  they  were  not  present  at  the 
session,  and  during  the  day  they  were  notified  that 
in  the  evening  they  were  to  be  incarcerated,  not  in 
the  Luxembourg,  —  that  palace  being  too  good  for 
them, — but  in  the  tower  of  the  Temple.   When  Marie 


IN   THE  CONVENT  OF  THE  FEUILLANTS.      335 

Antoinette  was  informed  of  this  decision,  she  turned 
toward  Madame  de  Tourzel,  and  putting  her  hands 
over  her  eyes,  said:  "I  always  asked  the  Count 
d'Artois  to  have  that  villanous  tower  of  the  Temple 
torn  down  ;  it  always  filled  me  with  horror  ! "  Po- 
tion told  Louis  XVI.  that  the  Communal  Council 
had  decreed  that  none  of  the  persons  proposed  for 
the  service  of  the  royal  family  should  follow  them  to 
their  new  abode.  By  force  of  remonstrance  the  King 
finally  obtained  permission  that  the  Princess  de  Lam- 
balle,  Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her  daughter  should 
be  excepted  from  this  interdiction,  and  also  MM. 
Hue  and  de  Chamilly,  and  Mesdames  Thibaud,  Basire, 
Navarre,  and  Saint-Brice.  The  departure  for  the 
Temple  took  place  at  five  in  the  evening.  The  royal 
family  went  in  a  large  carriage  with  Manuel  and 
Potion,  who  kept  their  hats  on.  The  coachman  and 
footmen,  dressed  in  gray,  served  their  masters  for 
the  last  time.  National  Guards  escorted  the  car- 
riage on  foot  and  with  reversed  arms.  The  passage 
through  a  hostile  multitude  occupied  not  less  than 
two  hours.  The  vehicle,  which  moved  very  slowly, 
stopped  for  several  moments  in  the  Place  Vend6me. 
There  Manuel  pointed  out  the  statue  of  Louis  XIV., 
which  had  been  thrown  down  from  its  pedestal.  At 
first  the  descendant  of  the  great  King  reddened 
with  indignation,  then,  tranquillizing  himself  in- 
stantly, he  calmly  replied :  "  It  is  fortunate,  Sir,  that 
the  rage  of  the  people  spends  itself  on  inanimate 
objects."     Manuel  might  have  gone  on  to  say  that 


836  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

on  this  very  Place  Vend6rae  "  Queen  Violet,"  ovid  of 
the  most  furious  vixens  of  the  October  Days,  had 
just  been  crushed  by  the  fall  of  this  equestrian  statue 
of  Louis  XIV.  to  which  she  was  hanging  in  order  to 
help  bring  it  down.  The  statue  of  Henry  IV.  in  the 
Place  Royale,  that  of  Louis  XIII.  in  the  Place  des 
Victoires,  and  that  of  Louis  XV.  in  the  place  that 
bears  his  name,  had  fallen  at  the  same  time. 

The  royal  family  arrived  at  the  Temple  at  seven 
in  the  evening.  The  lanterns  placed  on  the  project- 
ing portions  of  the  walls  and  the  battlements  of  the 
great  tower  made  it  resemble  a  catafalque  surrounded 
by  funeral  lights.  The  Queen  wore  a  shoe  with  a 
hole  in  it,  through  which  her  foot  could  be  seen. 
"  You  would  not  believe,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  that  a 
Queen  of  France  was  in  need  of  shoes."  The  doors 
closed  upon  the  captives,  and  a  sanguinary  crowd 
complained  of  the  thickness  of  the  walls  separating 
them  from  their  prey. 


XXXIII. 


THE  TEMPLE. 


THERE  are  places  which,  by  the  very  souvenirs 
they  evoke,  seem  fatal  and  accursed.  Such 
was  the  dungeon  that  was  to  serve  as  a  prison  for 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  family.  The  great  tower  for 
which  Marie  Antoinette  had  felt  a  nameless  instinct- 
ive repugnance  in  the  happiest  days  of  her  reign, 
arose  at  the  extremity  of  Paris  like  a  gigantic  phan- 
tom, and  recalled  in  a  sinister  fashion  the  tragedies 
of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the  sombre  legends  of  the 
Templars.  It  was  formerly  the  manor,  the  fortress, 
of  that  religious  and  military  Order  of  the  Temple, 
founded  in  the  Holy  Land  at  the  beginning  of  the 
twelfth  century,  to  protect  the  pilgrims,  and  which, 
after  the  fall  of  the  Kingdom  of  Jerusalem,  had  spread 
all  over  Europe.  The  great  tower  was  built  by  Fr^re 
Hubert,  in  the  early  years  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
in  the  midst  of  an  enclosure  surrounded  by  turreted 
walls.  There  ruled,  by  cross  and  sword,  those  men 
of  iron,  in  white  habits,  who  took  the  triple  vows  of 
poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  and  who  excited 
royal  jealousy  by  the  increase  of  their  power.  It 
was  there  that  Philippe  le  Bel  went  on  October  13, 

337 


338  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

1307,  with  his  lawyers  and  his  archers,  to  lay  his 
hand  on  the  grand-master,  seize  the  treasures  of  the 
order,  and  on  the  same  day,  at  the  same  hour,  cause 
all  Templars  to  be  arrested  throughout  the  realm. 
Then  began  that  mysterious  trial  which  has  remained 
an  insoluble  problem  to  posterity,  and  after  which 
these  monastic  knights,  whose  bravery  and  whose 
exploits  have  made  so  prolonged  an  echo,  perished  in 
prisons  or  on  scaffolds.  Pursued  by  horrible  accusa- 
tions, they  had  confessed  under  torture,  but  they 
denied  at  execution.  When  the  grand-master, 
Jacques  de  Molay,  and  the  commander  of  Normandy 
were  burned  alive  before  the  garden  of  Philippe  le 
Bel,  March  11,  1314,  even  in  the  midst  of  flames, 
they  did  not  cease  to  attest  the  innocence  of  the 
Order  of  the  Temple.  The  people,  astonished  by 
their  heroism,  believed  that  they  had  summoned  the 
Pope  and  the  King  to  appear  in  the  presence  of  God 
before  the  end  of  the  year.  Clement  V.,  on  April  20, 
and  Philippe  IV.,  on  November  29,  obeyed  the 
summons. 

The  possessions  of  the  order  were  given  to  the 
Hospitallers  of  Saint  John  of  Jerusalem,  who  trans- 
formed themselves  into  Knights  of  Malta  toward  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  Temple 
became  the  provincial  house  of  the  grand-prior  of  the 
Order  of  Malta  for  the  nation  or  language  of  France, 
and  the  great  tower  contained  successively  the 
treasure,  the  arsenal,  and  the  archives.  In  1607,  the 
grand-prior,  Jacques  de  Souvrd,  had  a  house  built  in 


THE  TEMPLE.  339 


front  of  the  old  manor,  between  the  court  and  the 
garden,  which  was  called  the  palace  of  the  grand- 
prior.  His  successor,  Philippe  de  Vend6me,  made 
his  palace  a  rendezvous  of  elegance  and  pleasure. 
There  shone  that  Anacreon  in  a  cassock,  the  gay  and 
sprightly  Abb^  de  Chaulieu,  who  died  a  fervent 
Christian  in  the  voluptuous  abode  where  he  had  dwelt 
a  careless  Epicurean.  There  young  Voltaire  went  to 
complete  the  lessons  he  had  begun  in  the  sceptical 
circle  of  Ninon  de  I'Enclos.  The  office  of  grand-prior, 
which  was  worth  sixty  thousand  livres  a  year,  passed 
afterwards  to  Prince  de  Conti,  who  in  1765  sheltered 
Jean-Jacques  Rousseau  there,  as  lettres  de  cachet 
could  not  penetrate  within  its  privileged  precinct. 
Under  Louis  XVI.  the  palace  of  the  grand-prior  had 
served  as  a  passing  hostelry  to  the  young  and  brilliant 
Count  d'Artois  when  he  came  from  Versailles  to 
Paris.  The  flowers  of  the  entertainments  given 
there  by  the  Prince  were  hardly  faded  when  Louis 
XVI.  suddenly  entered  it  as  a  prisoner. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the 
wretched  King  and  his  family,  coming  from  the 
convent  of  the  Feuillants,  arrived  at  the  Temple. 
Situated  near  the  Faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  not  far 
from  the  former  site  of  the  Bastille,  the  Temple 
enclosure  at  this  period  was  not  more  than  two  hun- 
dred yards  long  by  nearly  as  many  wide.  The  rest 
of  the  ancient  precinct  had  disappeared  under  the 
pavements  or  the  houses  of  the  great  city.  Never- 
theless, the  enclosure   still   formed   a  sort   of  little 


340  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

private  city,  sometimes  called  the  Ville-Neuve-dur 
Temple,  the  gates  of  which  were  closed  every  night. 
In  one  of  its  angles  stood  the  house  called  the  grand- 
prior's  palace. 

This  was  the  first  stopping-place  of  the  royal 
family,  which  had  been  entrusted  by  Potion  to  the 
surveillance  of  the  municipality  and  the  guard  of 
Santerre.  The  municipal  officers  stayed  close  to  the 
King,  kept  their  hats  on,  and  gave  him  no  title  ex- 
cept "  Monsieur."  Louis  XVI.,  not  doubting  that 
the  palace  of  the  grand-prior  was  the  residence 
assigned  him  by  the  nation  until  the  close  of  his 
career,  began  to  visit  its  apartments.  While  the 
municipal  officers  took  a  cruel  pleasure  in  this  error, 
thinking  of  the  still  keener  one  they  would  enjoy 
when  they  disabused  him  of  it,  he  pleased  himself  by 
allotting  the  different  rooms  in  advance.  The  word 
palace  had  an  unpleasant  sound  to  the  persecutors  of 
royalty.  The  Temple  tower  looked  more  like  a 
prison.  Toward  eleven  o'clock,  one  of  the  commis- 
sioners ordered  the  august  captives  to  collect  such 
linen  and  other  clothing  as  they  had  been  able  to 
procure,  and  follow  him.  They  silently  obeyed,  and 
left  the  palace.  The  night  was  very  dark.  They 
passed  through  a  double  row  of  soldiers  holding 
naked  sabres.  The  municipal  officers  carried  lanterns. 
One  of  them  broke  the  dismal  silence  he  had  observed 
throughout  the  march.  "  Thy  master,"  said  he  to  M. 
Hue,  "  has  been  accustomed  to  gilded  canopies.  Very 
well !  he  is  going  to  find  out  how  we  lodge  the 
assassins  of  the  people." 


THE  TEMPLE.  341 


The  lamps  in  the  windows  of  the  old  quadrangular 
dungeon  lighted  up  its  high  pinnacles  and  turrets, 
its  gigantic  profile  and  gloomy  bulk.  The  immense 
tower,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  and  with 
walls  nine  feet  thick,  rose,  menacing  and  fatal, 
amidst  the  darkness.  Beside  it  was  another  tower, 
narrower  and  not  so  high,  but  which  was  also  flanked 
by  turrets.  Thus  the  whole  dungeon  was  composed 
of  two  distinct  yet  united  towers.  The  second  of 
these,  called  the  little  tower,  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  great  one,  was  selected  as  the  prison  of  the  for- 
mer hosts  of  Versailles,  Fontainebleau,  and  the  Tui 
leries. 

The  little  tower  of  the  Temple,  which  had  no  inte- 
rior communication  with  the  great  one  against  which 
it  stood,  was  a  long  quadrangle  flanked  by  two  tur- 
rets. Four  steps  led  to  the  door,  which  was  low 
and  narrow,  and  opened  on  a  landing  at  the  end  of 
which  began  a  winding  staircase  shaped  like  a,  snail- 
shell.  Wide  from  its  base  as  far  as  the  first  story, 
it  grew  narrower  as  it  climbed  up  into  the  second. 
The  door,  which  was  considered  too  weak,  was  to  be 
strengthened  on  the  following  day  by  heavy  bars, 
and  supplied  with  an  enormous  lock  brought  from 
the  prisons  of  the  ChS,telet.  The  Queen  was  put  on 
the  second  floor,  and  the  King  on  the  third.  On  en- 
tering his  chamber,  Louis  XVI.  found  a  miserable 
bed  in  an  alcove  without  tapestry  or  curtains.  He 
showed  neither  ill  humor  nor  surprise.  Engravings, 
indecent  for  the  most  part,  covered  the  walls.     He 


342  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

took  them  down  himself.  "I  will  not  leave  such 
objects  before  my  children's  eyes,"  said  he.  Then 
he  lay  down  and  slept  tranquilly. 

The  first  days  of  captivity  were  relatively  calm. 
The  prisoners  consoled  themselves  by  their  family 
life,  reading,  and,  above  all,  prayer.  Forgetting  that 
he  had  been  a  king,  and  remembering  that  he  was  a 
father,  Louis  XVI.  gave  lessons  to  the  Dauphin. 
"It  would  have  been  worth  while  for  the  whole 
nation  to  be  present  at  these  lessons;  they  would 
have  been  both  surprised  and  touched  at  all  the  sen- 
sible, cordial,  and  kindly  things  the  good  King  found 
to  say  when  the  map  of  France  lay  spread  out  before 
him,  or  concerning  the  chronology  of  his  predeces- 
sors. Everything  in  his  remarks  showed  the  love  he 
bore  his  subjects  and  how  greatly  his  paternal  heart 
desired  their  happiness.  What  great  and  useful  les- 
sons one  could  learn  in  listening  to  this  captive  king 
instructing  a  child  born  to  the  throne  and  con- 
demned to  share  the  captivity  of  his  parents."  (^Sou- 
venirs de  Quarante  Ans^  by  Madame  de  B^arn,  nSe  de 
Tourzel.) 

All  those  who  had  been  authorized  to  follow  the 
royal  family  to  the  Temple  —  the  Princess  de  Lam- 
balle,  Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her' daughter,  Mesdames 
Thibaud,  Basire,  Navarre,  MM.  de  Chamilly  and 
Fran9ois  Hue  —  surrounded  the  captives  with  the 
most  respectful  and  devoted  attentions.  But  these 
noble  courtiers  of  misfortune,  these  voluntary  prison 
ers  who  were  so  glad  to  be  associated  in  their  mas- 


THE   TEMPLE.  343 


ter's  trials,  were  not  long  to  enjoy  an  honor  they  had 
so  keenly  desired.  In  the  night  of  August  18-19, 
two  municipal  officers  presented  themselves,  who 
were  commissioned  to  fetch  away  "all  persons  not 
belonging  to  the  Capet  family."  The  Queen  pointed 
out  in  vain  that  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  was  her 
relative.  The  Princess  must  go  with  the  others. 
"In  our  position,"  has  said  Madame  de  Tourzel,  the 
governess  of  the  children  of  France,  "there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  obey.  We  dressed  ourselves  and 
then  went  to  the  Queen,  to  whom  I  resigned  that 
dear  little  Prince,  whose  bed  had  been  carried  into 
her  room  without  awaking  him."  It  was  an  inde- 
scribable torture  for  Madame  de  Tourzel  to  aban- 
don the  Dauphin,  whom  she  cherished  so  tenderly, 
and  whom  she  had  educated  since  1789.  "I  ab- 
stained from  looking  at  him,"  she  adds,  "  not  only  to 
avoid  weakening  the  courage  we  had  so  much  need 
of,  but  in  order  to  give  no  room  for  censure,  and  so 
come  back,  if  possible,  to  a  place  we  left  with  so 
much  regret.  The  Queen  went  instantly  into  the 
chamber  of  the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  from  whom 
she  parted  with  the  utmost  grief.  To  Pauline  and 
me  she  showed  a  touching  sensibility,  and  said  to  me 
in  an  undertone :  '  If  we  are  not  so  happy  as  to  see 
you  again,  take  good  care  of  Madame  de  Lamballe. 
Do  the  talking  on  all  important  occasions,  and  spare 
her  as  much  as  possible  from  having  to  answer  cap- 
tious and  embarrassing  questions.'  "  The  two  muni- 
"ipal  officers  said  to  Hue  and  Chamilly :  "  Are  you 


344  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

the  valets-de-chambre  ? "  On  their  affirmative  re- 
sponse, the  two  faithful  servants  were  ordered  to  get 
up  and  prepare  for  departure.  They  shook  hands 
with  each  other,  both  of  them  convinced  that  they 
had  reached  the  end  of  their  existence.  One  of  the 
municipal  officers  had  said  that  very  day  in  their 
presence :  "  The  guillotine  is  permanent,  and  strikes 
with  death  the  pretended  servants  of  Louis."  When 
they  descended  to  the  Queen's  antechamber,  a  very 
small  room  in  which  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  slept, 
they  found  that  Princess  and  Madame  de  Tourzel  all 
ready  to  start,  and  clasped  in  one  embrace  with  the 
Queen,  the  children,  and  Madame  Elisabeth.  Ten- 
der and  heart-breaking  farewells,  presages  of  separa- 
tions more  cruel  still ! 

All  these  exiles  from  the  prison  left  at  the  same 
time.  Only  one  of  them,  M.  Fran9ois  Hue,  was  to 
return.  He  was  examined  at  the  H6tel-de-Ville,  and 
at  the  close  of  this  interrogation  an  order  was  signed 
permitting  him  to  be  taken  back  to  the  tower.  "  How 
happy  I  was,"  he  writes,  "  to  return  to  the  Temple ! 
I  ran  to  the  King's  chamber.  He  was  already  up  and 
dressed,  and  was  reading  as  usual  in  the  little  tower. 
The  moment  he  saw  me,  his  anxiety  to  know  what 
had  occurred  made  him  advance  toward  me ;  but  the 
presence  of  the  municipal  officers  and  the  guards  who 
were  near  him  made  all  conversation  impossible.  I 
indicated  by  a  glance  that,  for  the  moment,  prudence 
forbade  me  to  explain  myself.  Feeling  the  necessity 
of  silence  as  well  as  myself,  the  King  resumed  his 


THE  TEMPLE.  345 


reading  and  waited  for  a  more  opportune  moment. 
Some  hours  later,  I  hastily  informed  him  what  ques- 
tions had  been  asked  me  and  what  I  had  replied." 
QDerniires  AnnSes  de  Louis  XVI., par  Frangois  Hue.') 

The  unfortunate  sovereign  doubtless  believed  that 
the  others  were  also  about  to  return.  Vain  hope  ! 
During  the  day  Manuel  announced  to  the  King  that 
none  of  them  would  come  back  to  the  Temple. 
"  What  has  become  of  them  ? "  asked  Louis  XVI. 
anxiously.  —  "  They  are  prisoners  at  the  Force,"  re- 
turned Manuel.  —  "  What  are  they  going  to  do  with 
the  only  servant  I  have  left  ?  "  asked  the  King,  glanc- 
ing at  M.  Hue.  —  "  The  Commune  leaves  him  with 
you,"  said  Manuel ;  "  but  as  he  cannot  do  everything, 
men  will  be  sent  to  assist  him."  —  "I  do  not  want 
them,"  replied  Louis  XVI. ;  "  what  he  cannot  do,  we 
will  do  ourselves.  Please  God,  we  will  not  voluntarily 
give  those  who  have  been  taken  from  us  the  chagrin 
of  seeing  their  places  taken  by  others  !  "  In  Manuel's 
presence,  the  Queen  and  Madame  Elisabeth  aided  M. 
Hue  to  prepare  the  things  most  necessary  for  the  new 
prisoners  of  the  Force.  The  two  Princesses  arranged 
the  packets  of  linen  and  other  matters  with  the  skill 
and  activity  of  chambermaids. 

Behold  the  heir  of  Louis  XIV.,  the  King  of  France 
and  Navarre,  with  but  a  single  servant  left  him !  He 
has  but  one  coat,  and  at  night  his  sister  mends  it. 
Behold  the  daughter  of  the  German  Caesars,  with  not 
even  one  woman  to  wait  upon  her,  and  who  waits  on 
herself,  incessantly  watched,  meanwhile,  by  the  in- 


346  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

quisitors  of  the  Commune  ;  who  cannot  speak  a  word 
or  make  a  gesture  unwitnessed  by  a  squad  of  informers 
who  pursue  her  even  into  the  chamber  where  she  goes 
to  change  her  dress,  and  who  spy  on  her  even  when 
she  is  sleeping !  And  yet  neither  the  calmness  nor 
the  dignity  of  the  prisoners  suffers  any  loss. 

There  was  but  one  thing  that  keenly  annoyed  Louis 
XVI.  It  was  when,  on  August  24,  they  deprived  him, 
the  chief  of  gentlemen,  of  his  sword,  as  if  taking  away 
his  sceptre  were  not  enough.  He  consoled  himself 
by  prayer,  meditation,  and  reading.  He  spent  hours 
in  the  room  containing  the  library  of  the  keeper 
of  archives  of  the  Order  of  Malta,  who  had  pre- 
viously occupied  the  little  tower.  One  day  when  he 
was  looking  for  books,  he  pointed  out  to  M.  Hue 
the  works  of  Voltaire  and  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau. 
"  Those  two  men  have  ruined  France,"  said  he  in 
an  undertone.  On  another  day  he  was  pained  by 
overhearing  the  insults  heaped  on  this  faithful  ser- 
vant by  one  of  the  Municipal  Guards.  "  You  have 
had  a  great  deal  to  suffer  to-day,"  he  said  to  him. 
"  Well !  for  the  love  of  me,  continue  to  endure  every- 
thing ;  make  no  answer."  At  another  time  he  slipped 
into  his  hand  a  folded  paper.  "  This  is  some  of  my 
hair,"  said  he ;  "  it  is  the  only  present  I  can  give  you 
at  this  moment."  M.  Hue  exclaims  in  his  pathetic 
book  :  "  O  shade  forever  cherished !  I  will  preserve 
this  precious  gift  to  my  latest  day !  The  inheritance 
of  my  son,  it  will  pass  on  to  my  descendants,  and  all 
of  them  will  see  in  this  testimonial  of  Louis  XVI.'s 


THE  TEMPLE.  847 


goodness,  that  they  had  a  father  who  merited  the 
affection  of  his  King  by  his  fidelity." 

In  the  evenings  the  Queen  made  the  Dauphin 
recite  this  prayer :  "  Almighty  God,  who  created 
and  redeemed  me,  I  adore  Thee.  Spare  the  lives 
of  the  King,  my  father,  and  those  of  my  family  1 
Defend  us  against  our  enemies !  Grant  Madame 
de  Tourzel  the  strength  she  needs  to  support  the 
evils  she  endures  on  our  account."  And  the  angel 
of  the  Temple,  Madame  Elisabeth,  recited  every  day 
this  sublime  prayer  of  her  own  composition :  "  What 
will  happen  to  me  to-day,  O  my  God!  I  do  not 
know.  All  I  know  is,  that  nothing  will  happen  that 
has  not  been  foreseen  by  Thee  from  all  eternity.  It 
is  enough,  my  God,  to  keep  me  tranquil.  I  adore 
Thy  eternal  designs,  I  submit  to  them  with  my 
whole  heart ;  I  will  all,  I  accept  all ;  I  sacrifice  all  to 
Thee ;  I  unite  this  sacrifice  to  that  of  Thy  dear  Son, 
my  Saviour,  asking  Thee  by  His  sacred  heart  and 
His  infinite  merits,  the  patience  in  our  afflictions  and 
the  perfect  submission  which  is  due  to  Thee  for  all 
that  Thou  wiliest  and  permittest."  One  day  when 
she  had  finished  her  prayer,  the  saintly  Princess  said 
to  M.  Hue :  "  It  is  less  for  the  unhappy  King  than 
for  his  misguided  people  that  I  pray.  May  the  Lord 
deign  to  be  moved,  and  to  look  mercifully  upon 
France  !  "  Then  she  added,  with  her  admirable  res- 
ignation :  "  Come,  let  us  take  courage.  God  will 
never  send  us  more  troubles  than  we  are  able  to 
bear." 


848  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROTALTT. 

The  prisoners  were  permitted  to  walk  a  few  steps 
in  the  garden  every  day  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air. 
But  even  there  they  were  insulted.  As  they  passed 
by,  the  guards  stationed  at  the  base  of  the  tower  took 
pains  to  put  on  their  hats  and  sit  down.  The  sen- 
tries scrawled  insults  on  the  walls.  Colporteurs 
maliciously  cried  out  bad  tidings,  which  were  some- 
times false.  One  day,  one  of  them  announced  a 
pretended  decree  separating  the  King  from  his  family. 
The  Queen,  who  was  near  enough  to  hear  distinctly 
the  voice  which  told  this  news,  not  exact  as  yet,  was 
struck  with  a  terror  from  which  she  did  not  recover. 

And  yet  there  were  still  souls  that  gave  way  to 
compassion.  From  the  upper  stories  of  houses  near 
the  Temple  enclosure  there  were  eyes  looking  down 
into  the  garden  when  the  prisoners  took  their  walk. 
The  common  people  and  the  workmen  living  in  these 
poor  abodes  were  affected.  Sometimes,  to  show  her 
gratitude  for  the  sympathy  of  those  unknown  friends, 
Marie  Antoinette  would  remove  her  veil,  and  smUe. 
When  the  little  Dauphin  was  playing,  there  would 
be  hands  at  the  windows,  joined  as  if  to  applaud. 
Flowers  would  sometimes  fall,  as  if  by  chance,  from 
a  garret  roof  to  the  Queen's  feet,  and  occasionally  it 
happened  that  when  the  captives  had  gone  back  to 
their  prison,  they  would  hear  in  the  darkness  the 
echo  of  some  royalist  refrain,  hummed  by  a  passer-by 
in  the  silence  of  the  night. 

The  Temple  tower  is  no  longer  in  existence.  Bona- 
parte visited  it  when  he  was  Consul.     "There  are 


THE  TEMPLE.  349 


too  many  souvenirs  in  that  prison,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  will  tear  it  down."  In  1811  he  kept  his  promise. 
The  palace  of  the  grand-prior  was  destroyed  in  1853. 
No  trace  remains  of  that  famous  enclosure  of  the 
Templars  whose  legend  has  so  sombre  a  poetry.  But 
it  has  left  an  impress  on  the  imagination  of  peoples 
which  will  never  be  effaced.  It  seems  to  rise  again 
gigantic,  that  tower  where  the  son  of  Saint  Louis 
realized  not  alone  the  type  of  the  antique  sage  of 
whom  Horace  said:  Impavidum ferient  ruince,  but  also 
the  purest  ideal  of  the  true  Christian.  Does  not  the 
name  Temple  seem  predestinated  for  a.  spot  which 
was  to  be  sanctified  by  so  many  virtues,  and  where 
the  martyr  King  put  in  practice  these  verses  of  the 
Imitation  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  favorite  book :  "  It 
needs  no  great  virtue  to  live  peaceably  with  those 
who  are  upright  and  amiable ;  one  is  naturally 
pleased  in  such  society ;  we  always  love  those  whose 
sentiments  agree  with  ours.  But  it  is  very  praise- 
worthy, and  the  effect  of  a  special  grace  and  great 
courage  to  live  in  peace  with  severe  and  wicked  men, 
who  are  disorderly,  or  who  contradict  us.  .  .  .  He 
who  knows  best  how  to  suffer,  will  enjoy  the  greatest 
peace ;  such  a  one  is  the  conqueror  of  himself,  master 
of  the  world,  the  friend  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  inher- 
itor of  heaven." 


XXXIV. 

THE  PRINCESS  DE   LAMBALLE'S  MURDER. 

THE  Princess  de  Lamballe,  after  being  taken 
from  the  Temple  in  the  night  of  August  18-19, 
had  been  examined  by  Billaud-Varennes  at  the 
H6tel-de-ViUe,  and  then  sent,  at  noon,  August  19, 
to  the  Force.  This  prison,  divided  into  two  distinct 
parts,  the  great  and  the  little  Force,  was  situated 
between  the  rues  Roi-de-Sicile,  Culture,  and  Pav^e. 
In  1792  it  supplemented  the  Abbey  and  Ch^telet 
prisons,  which  were  overcrowded.  The  little  Force 
had  a  separate  entry  on  the  rue  Pav^e  to  the  Marais, 
while  the  door  of  the  large  one  opened  on  the  rue 
des  Ballets,  a  few  steps  from  the  rue  Saint-Antoine. 
The  register  of  the  little  Force,  which  is  preserved  in 
the  archives  of  the  prefecture  of  police,  records  that, 
at  the  time  of  the  September  massacres,  this  prison  in 
which  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  was  immured,  con- 
tained one  hundred  and  ten  women,  most  of  them  not 
concerned  with  political  affairs,  and  in  great  part 
women  of  the  town.  Here,  from  August  19  to  Sep- 
tember 3,  the  Princess  suffered  inexpressible  anguish. 
She  never  heard  a  turnkey  open  the  door  of  her  cell 
without  thinking  that  her  last  hour  had  come. 
860 


THE  PRINCESS  BE  LAMBALLE'S  MUBDER.    351 

The  massacres  began  on  September  2.  On  that 
day  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  was  spared.  In  the 
evening  she  threw  herself  on  her  bed,  a  prey  to  the 
most  cruel  anxiety.  Toward  six  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  the  turnkey  entered  with  a  frightened  air : 
-'  They  are  coming  here,"  he  said  to  the  prisoners, 
oix  men,  armed  with  sabres,  guns,  and  pistols,  fol- 
lowed him,  approached  the  beds,  asked  the  names  of 
the  women,  and  went  out  again.  Madame  de  Tourzel, 
who  shared  the  Princess  de  Lamballe's  captivity,  said 
to  her :  "  This  threatens  to  be  a  terrible  day,  dear 
Princess ;  we  know  not  what  Heaven  intends  for  us ; 
we  must  ask  God  to  forgive  our  faults.  Let  us  say 
the  Miserere  and  the  Confiteor  as  acts  of  contrition, 
and  recommend  ourselves  to  His  goodness."  The 
two  women  said  their  prayers  aloud,  and  incited  each 
other  to  resignation  and  courage. 

There  was  a  window  which  opened  on  the  street, 
and  from  which,  although  it  was  very  high,  one  could 
see  what  was  passing  by  mounting  on  Madame  de 
Lamballe's  bed,  and  thence  to  the  window  ledge. 
The  Princess  climbed  up,  and  as  soon  as  her  head  was 
noticed  on  the  street,  a  pretence  of  firing  on  her  was 
made.  She  saw  a  considerable  crowd  at  the  prison 
door. 

Very  little  doubt  remained  concerning  her  fate. 
Neither  she  nor  Madame  de  Tourzel  had  eaten  since 
the  previous  day.  But  they  were  too  greatly  moved 
to  take  any  breakfast.  They  dared  not  speak  to  each 
other.  They  took  their  work,  and  sat  down  to  await 
the  result  of  the  fatal  day  in  silence. 


862  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

Toward  eleven  o'clock  the  door  opened.  Armed 
men  filled  the  room  and  demanded  Madame  de  Lam- 
balle.  The  Princess  put  on  a  gown,  bade  adieu  to 
Madame  de  Tourzel,  and  was  led  to  the  great  Force, 
where  some  municipal  officers,  wearing  their  insignia, 
subjected  the  prisoners  to  a  pretended  trial.  In  front 
of  this  tribunal  stood  executioners  with  ferocious 
faces,  who  brandished  bloody  weapons.  The  atmos- 
phere was  sickening:  full  of  the  steam  of  carnage, 
and  the  odors  of  wine  and  blood.  Madame  de  Lam- 
balle  fainted.  When  she  recovered  consciousness  she 
was  interrogated :  "  Who  are  you ?  "  —  "  Marie  Louise, 
Princess  of  Savoy."  —  "What  is  your  rank?" — "Su- 
perintendent of  the  Queen's  household."  —  "  Were 
you  acquainted  with  the  conspiracies  of  the  court  ou 
August  10 ? "  —  "I  do  not  know  that  there  were  any 
conspiracies  on  August  10,  but  I  know  I  had  no 
knowledge  of  them."  — "  Swear  liberty,  equality, 
hatred  to  the  King,  the  Queen,  and  royalty."  —  "I 
will  swear  the  first  two  without  difficulty ;  I  cannot 
swear  the  last;  it  is  not  in  my  heart."  Here  an  assist- 
ant said  in  a  whisper  to  Madame  de  Lamballe :  "  Swear 
it!  if  you  do  not  swear,  you  are  a  dead  woman."  The 
Princess  made  no  answer ;  she  put  her  hands  up  to 
her  eyes,  covered  her  face  with  them  and  made  a  step 
toward  the  wicket.  The  judge  exclaimed :  "  Let 
some  one  release  Madame ! "  This  phrase  was  the 
death  signal.  Two  men  took  the  victim  roughly  by 
the  arms,  and  made  her  walk  over  corpses.  Hardly 
had  she  crossed  the  threshold  when  she  received  a 


THE  PRINCESS  BE  LAMBALLE'S  MURBER.    353 

blow  from  a  sabre  on  the  back  of  her  head,  which 
made  her  blood  flow  in  streams.  In  the  narrow  pas- 
sage leading  from  the  rue  Saint-Antoine  to  the  Force, 
and  called  the. Priests'  cul-de-sac,  she  was  despatched 
with  pikes  on  a  heap  of  dead  bodies.  Then  they 
stripped  off  her  clothes  and  exposed  her  body  to  the 
insults  of  a  horde  of  cannibals.  When  the  blood  that 
flowed  from  her  wounds,  or  that  of  the  neighboring 
corpses,  had  soiled  the  body  too  much,  they  washed 
it  with  a  sponge,  so  that  the  crowd  might  notice  its 
whiteness  better.  They  cut  off  her  head  and  her 
breasts.  They  tore  out  her  heart,  and  of  this  head 
and  this  heart  they  made  horrible  trophies.  The 
pikes  which  bore  them  were  lifted  high  in  air,  and 
they  went  to  carry  around  these  excellent  spoils  of 
the  Revolution. 

At  the  very  moment  when  the  hideous  procession 
began  its  march,  Madame  de  Lebel,  the  wife  of  a 
painter,  who  owed  many  benefits  to  Madame  de 
Lamballe,  was  trying  to  get  near  the  prison,  hoping 
to  hear  news  of  her.  Seeing  the  great  commotion 
in  the  crowd,  she  inquired  the  cause.  When  some 
one  replied:  "It  is  Lamballe's  head  that  they  are 
going  to  carry  through  Paris,"  she  was  seized  with 
horror,  and,  turning  back,  took  refuge  in  a  hair- 
dresser's shop  on  the  Place  Bastille.  Hardly  had, 
she  done  so  when  the  crowd  entered  the  Place.  The 
murderers  came  into  the  shop  and  required  the  hair- 
dresser to  arrange  the  head  of  the  Princess.  They 
washed  it,  and  powdered  the  fair  hair,  all  soiled  with 


354  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

blood.  Then  one  of  the  assassins  cried  joyfully: 
"  Now,  at  any  rate,  Antoinette  can  recognize  her ! " 
The  procession  resumed  its  march.  From  time  to 
time  they  called  a  halt  before  a  wine-shop.  Wishing 
to  empty  his  glass,  the  scoundrel  who  had  the  Prin- 
cess's head  in  his  hand,  set  it  flat  down  on  the  lead 
counter.  Then  it  was  put  back  on  .the  end  of  a  pike. 
The  heart  was  on  another  pike,  and  other  individuals 
dragged  along  the  headless  corpse.  In  this  manner 
they  arrived  in  front  of  the  Temple.  It  was  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

On  that  day  the  royal  family  had  been  refused  per- 
mission to  go  into  the  garden.  They  were  in  the 
little  tower  when  the  cries  of  the  multitude  became 
audible.  The  workmen  who  were  then  employed  in 
tearing  down  the  walls  and  buildings  contiguous  to 
the  Temple  dungeon,  mingled  with  the  crowd,  in- 
creased also  by  innumerable  curious  spectators,  and 
uttered  furious  shouts.  One  of  the  Municipal  Guards 
at  the  Temple  closed  doors  and  widows,  and  pulled 
down  curtains  so  that  the  captives  could  see  nothing. 

On  the  street  in  front  of  the  enclosure  a  tricolored 
ribbon  had  been  fastened  across,  with  this  inscrip- 
tion ;  "  Citizens,  you  who  know  how  to  ally  the  love 
of  order  with  a  just  vengeance,  respect  this  barrier; 
it  is  necessary  to  our  surveillance  and  our  responsi- 
bility." This  was  the  sole  dike  they  meant  to  oppose 
to  the  torrent.  At  the  side  of  this  ribbon  stood  a 
municipal  officer  named  Danjou,  formerly  a  priest, 
who  was   called   Abbe  Six-feet,  on   account   of  his 


THE  PRINCESS  DE  LAMBALLE'S  MUBDER.    355 

height.  He  mounted  on  a  chair  and  harangued  the 
crowd.  He  felt  his  face  touched  by  Madame  de  Lam- 
balle's  head,  still  on  the  end  of  a  pike  which  the 
bearer  shook  about  and  gesticulated  with,  and  also 
by  a  rag  of  her  chemise,  soaked  with  blood  and  mire, 
which  another  individual  also  carried  on  a  pike.  The 
naked  body  was  there  likewise,  with  its  back  to  the 
ground  and  the  front  cut  open  to  the  very  breast. 
Danjou  tried  to  make  the  crowd  of  assassins  who 
wanted  to  invade  the  Temple  understand  that  at  a 
moment  when  the  enemy  was  master  of  the  fron- 
tiers, it  would  be  impolitic  to  deprive  themselves  of 
hostages  so  precious  as  Louis  XVI.  and  his  family. 
"Moreover,"  he  added,  "would  it  not  demonstrate, 
their  innocence  if  you  dare  not  try  them?  How 
much  worthier  it  is  of  a  great  people  to  execute  a 
king  guilty  of  treasc  n  on  the  scaffold ! "  Thus, 
while  preventing  an  iinmediate  massacre,  he  held  the 
scaffold  in  reserve.  Danjou  said  that  the  Communal 
Council,  in  order  to  show  its  confidence  in  the  citi- 
zens composing  the  mob,  had  decided  that  six  of 
them  should  be  admitted  to  make  the  rounds  of  the 
Temple  garden,  with  the  commissioners  at  their 
head.  The  ribbon  was  then  raised  and  several  per- 
sons entered  the  enclosure.  They  were  those  who 
carried  the  remains  of  Madame  de  Lamballe.  With 
these  were  the  laborers  who  had  been  at  work  on  the 
demolitions.  Voices  were  heard  demanding  furiously 
that  Marie  Antoinette  should  show  herself  at  a  win- 
dow, so  that  some  one  might  climb  up  and  make  her 


356  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

kiss  her  friend's  head.  As  Danjou  opposed  this  infer- 
nal scheme,  he  was  accused  of  being  on  the  side  of 
the  tyrant.  Was  the  dungeon  of  the  Temple  to  be 
forced  ?  Were  the  assassins  about  to  seize  the  Queen, 
tear  her  in  pieces,  and  drag  her,  like  her  friend, 
through  streets  and  squares  to  the  rolling  of  drums 
and  the  chanting  of  the  Marseillaise  and  the  Ca  ira  f 
A  municipal  officer  entered  the  tower  and  began  a 
mysterious  parley  with  his  colleagues.  As  Louis 
XVI.  asked  what  was  going  on,  some  one  replied: 
"  Well,  sir,  since  you  desire  to  know,  they  want  to 
show  you  Madame  de  Lamballe's  head."  Meanwhile 
the  cries  outside  were  growing  louder.  Another 
municipal  came  in,  followed  by  four  delegates  from 
the  mob.  One  of  them,  who  carried  a  heayy  sabre 
in  his  hand,  insisted  that  the  prisoners  should  pre- 
sent themselves  at  the  window,  but  this  was  opposed 
by  the  municipal  officers,  who  were  less  cruel.  This 
man  said  to  'the  Queen  in  an  insulting  tone  :  "  They 
want  us  to  hide  the  Princess  de  Lamballe's  head  from 
you  when  we  brought  it  to  let  you  see  how  the  people 
avenge  themselves  on  their  tyrants.  I  advise  you  to 
show  yourself  if  you  don't  want  the  people  to  come 
up."  Marie  Antoinette  fainted  on  learning  her 
friend's  death  in  this  manner.  Her  children  burst 
into  tears  and  tried  by  their  caresses  to  bring  her 
back  to  consciousness.  The  man  did  not  go  away. 
"  Sir,"  the  King  said  to  him,  "  we  are  prepared  for 
the  worst,  but  you  might  have  dispensed  yourself 
from  informing  the  Queen  of  this  frightful  calamity." 


THE  PBINCES8  BE  LAMBALLE'S  MUBDEB.    357 

Cldry,  the  King's  valet,  was  looking  through  a  corner 
of  the  window  blinds,  and  saw  Madame  de  Lamballe's 
head.  The  person  carrying  it  had  climbed  up  on  a 
heap  of  rubbish  from  the  buildings  in  process  of 
demolition.  Another,  who  stood  beside  him,  held 
her  bleeding  heart.  Cl^ry  heard  Danjou  expostu- 
lating the  crowd  in  words  like  these  :  "  Antoinette's 
head  does  not  belong  to  you;  the  departments  have 
their  rights  in  it  also.  France  has  confided  these 
great  criminals  to  the  care  of  Paris ;  and  it  is  your 
business  to  assist  us  in  guarding  them  until  national 
justice  shall  avenge  the  people."  Then,  addressing 
himself  to  these  cannibals  as  if  they  were  heroes 
whose  courage  and  exploits  he  praised,  he  added, 
in  speaking  of  the  profaned  corpse  of  the  Princess 
de  Lamballe :  "  The  remains  you  have  there  are  the 
property  of  all.  Do  they  not  belong  to  all  Paris? 
Have  you  the  right  to  deprive  others  of  the  pleasure 
of  sharing  your  triumph?  Night  will  soon  be  here. 
Make  haste,  then,  to  quit  this  precinct,  which  is  too 
narrow  for  your  glory.  You  ought  to  place  this  trophy 
in  the  Palais  Royal  or  the  Tuileries  garden,  where 
the  sovereignty  of  the  people  has  been  so  often  tram- 
pled under  foot,  as  an  eternal  monument  of  the  vic- 
tory you  have  just  won."  Remarks  like  these  were 
all  that  could  prevent  these  tigers  from  entering  the 
Temple  and  destroying  the  prisoners.  Shouts  of 
"To  the  Palais  Royal!"  proved  to  Danjou  that  his 
harangue  had  been  appreciated.  The  assassins  at 
last   departed,  after   having  covered   his   face  with 


358  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

kisses  that  smelt  of  wine  and  blood.  They  wanted 
to  show  their  victim's  head  at  the  H6tel  Toulouse, 
the  mansion  of  the  venerable  Duke  d«  Penthievre, 
her  father-in-law,  but  were  deterred  by  the  assurance 
that  she  did  not  ordinarily  live  there,  but  at  the 
Tuileries.  Then  they  turned  toward  the  Palais 
Royal.  The  Duke  of  Orleans  was  at  a  window  with 
his  mistress,  Madame  de  Buffon.  He  left  it,  but  he 
may  have  seen  the  head  of  his  sister-in-law. 

Some  of  the  cannibals  had  remained  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Temple.  Sitting  down  at  table  in  a 
wine-shop,  they  had  the  heart  of  the  Princess  de 
Lamballe  cooked,  and  ate  it  with  avidity.  "  Thus," 
says  M.  de  Beauchesne  in  his  excellent  work  on 
Louis  XVII.,  "  this  civilization  which  had  departed 
from  God,  surpassed  at  a  single  bound  the  fury  of 
savages,  and  the  eighteenth  century,  so  proud  of 
its  learning  and  humanity,  ended  by  anthropophagy." 
In  the  evening,  when  some  one  was  giving  Collot 
d'Herbois  an  account  of  the  day's  performances,  he 
expressed  but  one  regret,  —  that  they  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  showing  Marie  Antoinette  the  remains  of 
the  Princess  de  Lamballe.  "  What !  "  he  spitefully 
exclaimed,  "  did  they  spare  the  Queen  that  impres- 
sion? They  ought  to  have  served  up  her  best  friend's 
head  in  a  covered  dish  at  her  table." 


XXXV. 

THE  SEPTEMBER   MASSACRES. 

LOVERS  of  paradoxes  have  tried  to  represent 
the  September  massacres  as  something  sponta- 
neous, a  passing  delirium  of  opinion,  a  sort  of  great 
national  convulsion.  This  myth  was  a  lie  against 
history  and  humanity.  It  exists  no  longer,  Heaven 
be  thanked.  The  mists  with  which  it  was  sought  to 
shroud  these  execrable  crimes  are  now  dissipated. 
Light  has  been  shed  upon  that  series  of  infernal 
spectacles  which  would  have  made  cannibals  blush. 
No;  these  odious  massacres  were  not  the  result  of 
a  popular  movement,  an  unforeseen  fanaticism,  a 
paroxysm  of  rage  or  vengeance.  They  present  an 
ensemble  of  murders  committed  in  cool  blood,  a 
planned  and  premeditated  thing.  M.  Mortimer-Ter- 
naux,  in  his  Histoire  de  la  Terreur,  M.  Granier  de 
Cassagnac,  in  his  Histoire  des  Grirondins  et  des  Mas^ 
sacres  de  Septembre,  have  proved  this  abundantly. 
They  have  exhumed  from  the  archives  and  the  rec- 
ord offices  such  a  mass  of  uncontested  and  incontes- 
table documents,  that  not  the  slightest  doubt  is  now 
permissible.  Edgar  Quinet  has  not  hesitated  to  recog- 
nize this  in  his  book,  La  RSvolution.    He  says :  "  The 

369 


360  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

massacres  were  executed  administratively ;  the  same 
discipline  was  everywhere  displayed  throughout  the 
carnage.  .  .  .  This  was  not  a  piece  of  blind,  sponta- 
neous barbarism ;  it  was  a  barbarity  slowly  meditated, 
minutely  elaborated  by  a  sanguinary  mind.  Hence 
it  bears  no  resemblance  to  anything  previously  known 
in  history.  Marat  harvested  in  September  what  he 
had  been  sowing  for  three  years."  The  Parisian 
populace,  eight  hundred  thousand  souls,  was  inert; 
it  was  cowardly,  it  trembled ;  but  it  did  not  approve, 
it  was  not  an  accomplice.  It  was  a  monstrous  thing 
that  a  handful  of  cut-throats  should  be  enough  to 
transform  Paris  into  a  slaughter-house.  One  shud- 
ders in  thinking  what  a  few  criminals  can  accom- 
plish in  the  midst  of  an  immense  population.  "  The 
people,  the  real  people  — that  composed  of  laborious 
and  honest  workmen,  ardent  and  patriotic  at  heart, 
and  of  young  bourgeois  with  generous  aspirations  and 
indomitable  couragfe — never  united  for  an  instant 
with  the  scoundrels  recruited  by  Maillard  from  every 
kennel  in  the  capital.  While  the  hired  assassins 
of  the  Committee  of  Surveillance  established  in 
the  prisons  what  Vergniaud  called  a  butcher's  shop 
for  human  flesh,  the  true  populace  was  assembled 
on  the  Champ-de-Mars,  and  before  the  enlistment 
booths  ;  it  was  offering  its  purest  blood  for  the  coun- 
try ;  it  would  have  blushed  to  shed  that  of  helpless 
unfortunates."  ^     In  1871,  the  murder  of  hostages  and 

1  M.  Mortimer- Temaux,  Histoire  de  la  Terreur. 


TUE  SEPTEMBER  MASSACRES.  361 

the  burning  of  monuments  was  no  more  approved 
by  the  population  than  the  massacres  in  the  prisons 
were  in  1792.  The  crimes  were  committed  at  both 
epochs  by  a  mere  handful  of  individuals.  The  great 
majority  of  the  people  were  guilty  merely  of  apathy 
and  fear. 

The  hideous  tableau  surpasses  the  most  lugubrious 
conceptions  of  Dante's  sombre  imagination.  Paris 
is  a  hell.  From  August  29,  it  is  like  a  torpid  Orien- 
tal town.  The  whole  city  is  in  custody,  like  a  crimi- 
nal whose  limbs  are  held  while  he  is  being  searched 
and  put  in  irons.  Every  house  is  inspected  by  the 
agents  of  the  Commune.  A  knock  at  the  door 
makes  the  inmates  tremble.  The  denunciation  of 
an  enemy,  a  servant,  a  neighbor,  is  a  death  sentence. 
People  scarcely  dare  to  breathe.  Neither  running 
water  nor  solid  earth  is  free.  The  parapets  of  quays, 
the  arches  of  bridges,  the  bathing  and  washing  boats 
are  bristling  with  sentries.  Everything  is  surrounded. 
There  is  no  refuge.  Three  thousand  suspected  per- 
sons are  taken  out  of  houses,  and  crowded  into  prisons. 
The  hunt  begins  anew  the  following  day.  The  pro- 
gramme of  massacres  is  arranged.  The  Communal 
Council  of  Surveillance  has  minutely  regulated  every- 
thing. The  price  of  the  actual  work  is  settled.  The 
personnel  of  cut-throats  is  at  its  post.  Danton  has 
furnished  the  executioners ;  Manuel,  the  victims.  All 
is  ready.     The  bloody  drama  can  begin. 

On  September  2,  Danton  said  to  the  Assembly : 
"  The  tocsin  about  to  sound  is  not  an  alarm  signal ;  it 


362  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROTALTT. 

is  a  charge  upon  the  enemies  of  the  country.  To  van- 
quish them,  gentlemen,  all  that  is  needed  is  boldness, 
and  again  boldness,  and  always  boldness."  Two  days 
before,  he  had  been  still  more  explicit.  "  The  10th 
of  August,"  said  he,  "divided  us  into  republicans 
and  roj'alists;  the  first  few  in  number,  the  second 
many  .  .  . ;  we  must  make  the  royalists  afraid,"  A 
frightful  gesture,  a  horizontal  gesture,  sufficed  to 
express  his  meaning. 

Robbery  preceded  murder.  It  was  a  veritable  raid. 
The  Commune  caused  the  palaces,  national  property, 
the  Garde-Meuble,  the  houses  and  mansions  of  the 
SmigrSs  to  be  pillaged.  One  saw  nothing  but  carts 
and  wagons  transporting  stolen  goods  to  the  Hotel- 
de-Ville.  All  the  plate  was  stolen  from  the  churches 
likewise.  "Millions,"  says  Madame  Roland  in  her 
Memoirs,  "passed  into  the  hands  of  people  who 
used  it  to  perpetuate  the  anarchy  which  was  the 
source  of  their  domination."  When  will  the  men  of 
the  Commune  render  their  accounts  ?  Never.  Who 
are  the  accomplices  of  Danton  and  Marat  in  organ- 
izing the  massacres  ?  A  band  of  defaulting  account- 
ants, faithless  violators  of  public  trusts,  breakers  of 
locks,  swindlers,  spies,  and  men  overwhelmed  with 
debts.  What  interest  have  they  in  planning  the 
murders  ?  That  of  perpetuating  the  dictatorship 
they  had  assumed  on  the  eve  of  August  10,  and, 
above  all,  of  having  no  accounts  to  render.  A  few 
weeks  later  on,  CoUot  d'Herbois  will  say  at  the 
Jacobin  Club :  "  The  2d  of  September  is  the  chief 
article  in  the  creed  of  our  liberty." 


THE  SEPTEMBER  MASSACRES.  363 

The  jailors  were  forewarned.  They  served  the 
prisoners'  dinner  earlier,  and  took  away  their  knives. 
There  was  a  disturbed  and  uneasy  look  in  their  faces 
which  made  the  victims  suspect  their  end  was  near. 
Toward  noon  the  general  alarm  was  beaten  in  every 
street.  The  citizens  were  ordered  to  return  at  once 
to  their  dwellings.  An  order  was  issued  to  illumi- 
nate every  house  when  night  fell.  The  shops  were 
closed.     Terror  overspread  the  entire  city. 

It  was  agreed  that  at  the  third  discharge  of  can- 
non the  cut-throats  should  set  to  work.  The  first 
blood  shed  was  that  of  prisoners  taken  from  the 
mayoralty  to  the  Abbey  prison.  The  carriages  con- 
taining them  passed  along  the  Quai  des  Orf^vres,  the 
Pont-Neuf  and  rue  Dauphine,  until  it  reached  the 
Bussy  square.  Here  there  was  a  crowd  assembled 
around  a  platform  where  enlistments  were  going  on. 
The  throng  impeded  the  progress  of  the  carriages. 
Thereupon  one  of  the  escort  opened  the  door  of  one 
of  them,  and  standing  on  the  step,  plunged  his  sabre 
into  the  breast  of  an  aged  priest.  The  multitude 
shuddered  and  fled  in  affright.  "  That  makes  you 
afraid,"  said  the  assassin ;  "  you  will  see  plenty  more 
like  it." 

The  rest  of  the  escort  followed  the  example  set 
them.  The  carriages  go  on  again,  and  so  do  the 
massacres.  They  kill  along  the  route,  and  they  kill 
on  arriving  at  the  Abbey.  Towards  five  o'clock, 
Billaud-Yarennes  presents  himself  there,  wearing  his 
municipal  scarf.     "  People,"  says  he  —  what  he  calls 


364  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

people  is  a  band  of  salaried  assassins  —  "  people,  thou 
immolatest  thine  enemies,  thou  art  doing  thy  duty." 
Then  he  walks  into  the  midst  of  the  dead  bodies, 
dipping  his  feet  in  blood,  and  fraternizes  with  the 
murderers.  "  There  is  nothing  more  to  do  here," 
exclaims  Maillard;  "let  us  go  to  the  Carmelites." 

At  the  Carmelites,  one  hundred  and  eighty  priests, 
crowded  into  the  church  and  convent,  were  awaiting 
their  fate  with  pious  resignation.  Two  days  before, 
Manuel  had  said  to  them  ironically :  "  In  forty-eight 
hours  you  will  all  be  free.  Get  ready  to  go  into  a 
foreign  country  and  enjoy  the  repose  you  cannot 
find  here."  And  on  the  previous  day  a  gendarme 
had  said  to  the  Archbishop  of  Aries,  blowing  the 
smoke  from  his  pipe  into  his  face  as  he  did  so :  "  It 
is  to-morrow,  then,  that  they  are  going  to  kill  Your 
Grandeur."  A  short  time  before  the  massacre  began, 
the  victims  were  sent  into  the  garden.  At  the  bot- 
tom of  it  was  an  orangery  which  has  since  become  a 
chapel.  Mgr.  Dulau,  Archbishop  of  Aries,  and  the 
Bishops  of  Beauvais  and  de  Saintes,  both  of  whom 
were  named  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  kneeled  down  with 
the  other  priests  and  recited  the  last  prayers.  The 
murderers  approached.  The  Archbishop  of  Aries, 
who  was  upwards  of  eighty,  advanced  to  meet  them. 
"  I  am  he  whom  you  seek,"  he  said ;  "  my  sacrifice 
is  made ;  but  spare  these  worthy  priests ;  they  will 
pray  for  you  on  earth,  and  I  in  heaven."  They 
insulted  him  before  they  struck  him.  "  I  have  never 
done    harm   to    any  one,"   said    he.      An    assassin 


THE  SEPTEMBER  MASSACRES.  365 


responded :  "  Very  well ;  I'll  do  some  to  you,"  and 
killed  him.  The  other  priests  were  chased  around 
the  garden  from  one  tree  to  another,  and  shot  down. 
During  this  infernal  hunt  the  murderers  were  shout- 
ing with  laughter  and  singing  their  favorite  song; 
Dansez  la  Carmagnole  f 

The  massacre  of  the  Carmelites  is  over.  "Let  us 
go  back  to  the  Abbey!"  cries  Maillard;  "we  shall 
find  more  game  there."  This  time  there  is  a  pretence 
of  justice  made.  The  tribunal  is  the  vestibule  of  the 
Abbey;  Maillard,  the  chief  cut-throat,  is  president; 
the  assassins  are  the  judges,  and  the  public,  the  Mar- 
seillais,  the  sans-culottes,  the  female  furies,  and  men 
to  whom  murder  was  a  delightful  spectacle.  The 
prisoners  are  summoned  one  after  another.  They 
enter  the  vestibule,  which  has  a  wicket  as  a  door  of 
exit.  They  are  questioned  simply  as  a  matter  of 
form.  Their  answers  are  not  even  listened  to. 
"  Conduct  this  gentleman  to  the  Force ! "  says  the 
president.  The  prisoner  thinks  he  is  safe ;  he  does 
not  know  that  this  phrase  has  been  agreed  upon  as 
the  signal  of  death.  On  reaching  the  wicket,  hatchet 
and  sabre  strokes  cut  him  down  in  the  midst  of  his 
dream.  The  Swiss  officers  and  soldiers  who  had  sur- 
vived August  10  were  murdered  thus.  Their  torture 
lasted  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  and  was  accom- 
plished with  more  or  less  cruel  refinements,  according 
to  the  caprice  of  the  assassins,  who  were  nearly  all 
drunk. 

Night     came,    and     torches     were     lighted.     No 


866  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

shadows;  a  grand  illumination.  They  must  see 
clearly  in  the  slaughter  house.  Lanterns  were 
placed  near  the  lakes  of  blood  and  heaps  of  dead 
bodies,  so  as  plainly  to  distinguish  the  work  from  the 
workmen.  There  were  some  who  were  bent  on  losing 
no  details  of  the  carnage.  The  spectators  wanted  to 
take  things  easy.  They  were  tired  of  standing  too 
long.  Benches  for  men  and  others  for  dames  were 
got  ready  for  them.  The  death-rattle  of  the  agoniz- 
ing, the  vociferations  of  the  assassins,  the  emulation 
between  the  executioners  who  kill  slowly  and  the 
victims  who  are  in  haste  to  die,  give  joy  to  the  spec- 
tators. There  is  no  interruption  to  the  human 
butchery.  There  has  been  so  much  blood  spilled  that 
the  feet  of  the  murderers  slip  on  the  pavement. 
A  litter  is  made  of  straw  and  the  clothes  of  the 
victims,  and  thereafter  none  are  killed  except  upon 
this  mattress.  In  this  way  the  work  is  more  com- 
modiously  accomplished.  The  assassins  have  plenty 
of  assurance.  Morning  dawns  on  the  continuation 
of  the  murders,  and  the  wives  of  the  murderers  bring 
them  something  to  eat. 

On  September  2,  the  only  persons  handed  over  to 
the  cut-throats,  were  at  the  Abbey,  the  Carmelites, 
and  Saint-Firmin.  On  September  3,  the  massacre 
became  more  general.  The  assassins  had  said:  "If 
there  is  no  more  work,  we  shall  have  to  find  some." 
Their  desire  realizes  itself.  Work  will  not  be  lack- 
ing. There  is  still  some  at  the  Force,  where  the 
Princess  de  Lamballe,  the  preferred  victim,  is  mur- 


THE  SEPTEMBER  MAS8ACBE8.  367 

dered.  The  assassins,  who  at  the  Abbey  had  been 
paid  at  the  r^te  of  eight  francs  a  day,  get  only  fifty 
sous  at  the  Force.  They  work  with  undiminished 
zeal,  even  at  this  reduction.  If  necessary,  they 
would  work  for  nothing.  To  drink  wine  and  shed 
blood  is  the  essential  thing.  The  negro  Delorme, 
servant  to  Fournier  "the  American,"  distinguishes 
himself  among  them  all.  His  black  skin,  reddened 
with  blood,  his  white  teeth  and  ferocious  eyes,  his 
bestial  laugh,  his  ravenous  fury,  make  him  a  choice 
assassin.  There  is  work  too  at  the  Conciergerie,  at  the 
great  and  little  Ch^telet,  the  Salpetriere,  and  the 
Bic6tre.  A  great  number  of  those  detained  are 
people  condemned  or  accused  of  private  crimes  which 
had  absolutely  nothing  in  common  with  politics.  No 
matter ;  blood  is  wanted ;  they  kill  there  as  else- 
where. At  the  Grand  ChS,telet,  work  is  so  plenty, 
and  the  assassins  so  few,  that  they  release  several 
individuals  imprisoned  for  theft,  and  impress  them 
into  their  service.  One  of  these  unfortunate  acci- 
dental executioners  begins  in  a  hesitating  way,  strikes 
a  few  undecided  blows,  and  then  throws  down  the 
hatchet  placed  in  his  hands.  "  No,  no,"  he  cries,  "  I 
cannot.  No,  no  !  Rather  a  victim  than  a  murderer ! 
I  would  rather  receive  death  from  scoundrels  like 
you,  then  give  it  to  innocent,  disarmed  people.  Strike 
me ! "  And  at  once  the  veteran  murderers  kill 
the  inexperienced  cut-throat.  There  was  a  woman, 
known  on  account  of  her  charms  as  the  Beautiful 
Flower  Girl,  who  was  accused  of  having   wounded 


868  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

her  lover,  a  French  guard,  in  a  fit  of  jealousy.  Th^- 
roigne  de  Mericourt,  an  amazon  of  the'  gutters,  was 
her  rival.  She  pointed  her  out  to  the  assassins. 
They  fastened  her  naked  to  a  post,  her  legs  apart  and 
her  feet  nailed  to  the  ground.  They  burned  her 
alive.  They  cut  off  her  breasts  ^vith  sabre  strokes. 
They  impaled  her  on  a  hot  iron.  Her  shrieks  carried 
dismay  as  far  as  the  outer  banks  of  the  Seine.  Th^- 
roigne  was  at  the  height  of  felicity. 

At  the  Salpetridre  there  was  still  another  spectacle. 
This  prison  for  fallen  women  is  a  place  of  correction 
for  the  old,  of  amendment  for  the  young,  and  an  asy- 
lum for  those  who  are  still  children.  More  than  forty 
children  of  the  lower  classes  were  slain  during  these 
horrible  days.  The  delirium  of  murder  reached  its 
height.  Gorged  with  wine  mingled  with  gunpowder, 
intoxicated  with  the  fumes  and  reek  of  carnage,  the 
assassins  experienced  a  devouring,  inextinguishable 
thirst  for  blood  which  nothing  could  quench.  More 
blood,  and  yet  more  blood !  And  where  can  it  now 
be  found?  The  prisons  are  empty.  There  are  no 
more  nobles,  no  more  priests,  to  put  to  death.  Very 
well !  for  lack  of  anything  better,  they  will  go'  to  an 
asylum  for  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  insane ;  to  the 
Bicetre.  Vagabonds,  paupers,  fools,  thieves,  steward, 
chaplains,  janitor,  all  is  fish  that  comes  to  their  net. 
The  butchery  lasts  five  days  and  nights  without  stop- 
ping. Massacre  takes  every  form;  some  are  drowned 
in  the  cellars,  othei"S  shot  in  the  courts.  Water,  fire, 
and  sword,  every  sort  of  torture. 


THE  SEPTEMBER   MASSACRES.  369 

The  cut-throats  can  at  last  take  some  repose.  They 
have  worked  all  the  week.  There  are  still  some, 
however,  who  have  not  yet  had  enough,  and  who  are 
going  to  continue  the  massacres  of  Paris  in  the  prov- 
inces. The  Communal  Council  of  Surveillance  has 
taken  care  to  send  to  every  commune  in  France  a 
circular  bearing  the  seal  of  the  Minister  of  Justice, 
inviting  them  to  follow  the  example  of  the  capital. 

September  9,  the  prisoners  who  had  been  detained 
at  Orleans  to  be  tried  there  by  the  Superior  Court, 
entered  Versailles  on  carts.  At  the  moment  when 
they  approached  the  grating  of  the  Orangery,  assas- 
sins sent  from  Paris  under  the  lead  of  Fournier  "  the 
American  "  sprang  upon  them  and  immolated  every 
one.  Thus  perished  the  former  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  de  Lessart,  and  the  Duke  de  Brissac,  former 
commander  of  the  Constitutional  Guard.  Fournier 
"the  American "1  returned  on  horseback  to  Paris  and 
began  to  caracole  on  the  Place  VendQme ;  Danton 
loudly  felicitated  him  on  the  success  of  the  expedi- 
tion, from  the  balcony  of  the  Ministry  of  Justice. 

During  all  this  time,  what  efforts  had  the  Assembly 
made  to  put  a  stop  to  the  murders  ?  None,  absolutely 
none.  Never  has  any  deliberative  body  shown  a  like 
cowardice.  Neither  Vergniaud's  voice  nor  that  of 
any  other  Girondin  was  heard  in  protest.  Indigna- 
tion, pity,  found  not  a  single  word  to  say.     Speeches, 

1  Claude  Fournier-Lhfiritier,  was  born  in  Auvergne,  1745,  and 
served  as  a  volunteer  in  Santo  Domingo,  1772-85,  with  Toussaint 
rOuverture,  whence  his  sobriquet  "  the  American." 


370  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

discussions,  votes  on  different  questions,  went  on  as 
usual.  Concerning  the  massacres,  not  a  syllable. 
During  that  infamous  week,  neither  the  ministers,  the 
virtuous  Roland  not  more  than  the  others,  neither 
Potion,  the  mayor  of  Paris,  nor  the  commander  of  the 
National  Guard  sent  a  picket  guard  of  fifty  men  to 
any  quarter  to  prevent  the  murders.  A  population 
of  eight  hundred  thousand  souls  and  a  National 
Guard  of  fifty  thousand  men  bent  their  necks  under 
the  yoke  of  a  handful  of  bandits,  of  two  hundred  and 
thirty-five  assassins  (the  exact  number  is  known). 
People  trembled.  At  the  Assembly  the  old  moder- 
ate party  had  disappeared.  There  were  not  more 
than  two  hundred  odd  deputies  present  at  the  shame- 
ful and  powerless  sessions.  Terrorized  Paris  was  in 
a  state  of  stupor  and  prostration. 

The  murderers  ended  by  execrating  themselves. 
Tormented  by  remorse,  they  could  see  nothing  be- 
fore them  but  vivid  faces,  reeking  entrails,  bleeding 
limbs.  "  Among  the  cut-throats,"  M.  Louis  Blanc 
has  said,  "  some  gave  signs  of  insanity  that  led  to  the 
supposition  that  some  mysterious  and  terrible  drug 
had  been  mingled  with  the  wine  they  drank."  Some 
of  them  became  furious  madmen.  Others  sought 
refuge  in  suicide,  killing  themselves  the  moment 
they  had  no  one  else  to  kill.  Others  enlisted.  They 
were  chased  out  of  the  army.  Among  these  was  the 
man  who  had  carried  the  head  of  the  Princess  de 
Lamballe  on  a  pike.  One  day  when  he  was  boasting 
of  his  murders,   the  soldiers  became  indignant  and 


THE  SEPTEMBER  MASSACRES.  371 

put  him  to  death.  Others  still  were  tried  as  Sep- 
tembrists  and  sent  to  the  scaffold.  The  guilty- 
received  their  punishment,  even  on  this  earth.  Well ! 
there  are  people  nowadays  who  would  like  to  rehabil- 
itate them !  In  vain  has  Lamartine,  the  founder 
of  the  Second  Republic,  exclaimed  in  a  burst  of  noble 
wrath :  "  Has  human  speech  an  execration,  an  anath- 
ema, which  is  equal  to  the  horror  these  crimes  of  can- 
nibals inspire  in  me,  as  in  all  civilized  men?"  In 
vain  have  the  most  celebrated  historians  of  democ- 
racy, Edgar  Quinet  and  Michelet,  expressed  in  elo- 
quent terms  their  indignation  against  these  crimes. 
In  vain  has  M.  Louis  Blanc  said :  "  Every  murder  is 
a  suicide.  In  the  victim  the  body  alone  is  killed; 
but  what  is  killed  in  the  murderer  is  the  soul." 
There  are  men  who  would  not  alone  excuse,  but 
glorify  the  assassinations  and  the  assassins  ! 


XXXVI. 

MADAME  EOLAND  DURING  THE  MASSACRES. 

MADAME  ROLAND'S  hatred  was  appeased. 
The  ambitious  hourgeoise  throned  it  for  the 
second  time  at  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  and  the 
Queen  groaned  in  captivity  in  the  Temple  tower. 
The  Egeria  of  the  Girondins  had  not  felt  her  heart 
swell  with  a  single  movement  of  pity  for  Marie 
Antoinette.  The  fatal  10th  of  August  had  seemed 
to  her  a  personal  triumph  in  which  her  pride  de- 
lighted. The  parvenue  enjoyed  the  humiliations  of 
the  daughter  of  the  German  CsBsars.  Her  jealous 
instincts  feasted  on  the  afflictions  of  the  Queen  of 
France  and  Navarre. 

Lamartine,  indignant  at  this  cruelty  on  Madame 
Roland's  part,  has  repented  of  the  eulogies  he  gave 
her  in  his  Histoire  des  Crirondins.  In  his  Cours  de 
LittSrature  (Volume  XIII.  Conversation  XXIII.),  he 
says :  "I  glided  over  that  medley  of  intrigue  and  pom- 
posity which  composed  the  genius,  both  feminine  and 
Roman,  of  this  woman.  In  so  doing,  I  conceded 
more  to  popularity  than  to  truth.  I  wanted  to  give 
a  Cornelia-  to  the  Republic.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
do  not  know  what  Cornelia  was,  that  mother  of  the 
372 


MADAME  BOLAND  DURING  THE  MASSACRES.  373 

Gracchi  who  brought  up  conspirators  against  the 
Roman  Senate,  and  trained  them  to  sedition,  that 
virtue  of  ambitious  commoners.  As  to  Madame 
Roland,  who  inflated  a  vulgar  husband  by  the  breath 
of  her  feminine  anger  against  a  court  she  found 
odious  because  it  did  not  open  to  her  upstart  vanity, 
there  was  nothing  really  fine  in  her  except  her  death. 
Her  rOle  had  been  a  mere  parade  of  true  greatness  of 
soul."  What  Lamartine  finds  fault  with  most  of  all 
is  her  hostility  to  the  martyr  Queen.  He  adds : 
"  She  inspired  the  Girondins,  her  intimate  friends, 
with  an  implacable  hatred  against  the  Queen,  already 
so  humiliated  and  so  menaced ;  she  had  neither 
respect  nor  pity  for  this  victim;  she  points  her 
out  to  the  rebellious  multitude.  She  is  no  longer  a 
wife,  a  mother,  or  a  Frenchwoman.  She  poses  as 
Nemesis  at  the  door  of  the  Temple,  when  the  Queen 
is  groaning  there  over  her  husband,  her  children,  and 
herself,  between  the  throne  and  the  scaffold.  This 
ostentatious  stoicism  of  implacability  is  what,  in  my 
view,  kills  the  woman  in  this  female  demagogue." 

Alas !  if  Madame  Roland  was  guilty,  she  was  to 
be  punished  cruelly.  The  colleague  of  the  virtuous 
Roland  was  the  organizer  of  the  September  massacres. 
The  republican  sheepfold  dreamed  of  by  the  admirer 
of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau  was  invaded  by  ferocious 
beasts.  Human  nature  had  never  appeared  under  a 
more  execrable  aspect  than  since  its  so-called  regen- 
eration. Madame  Roland  was  filled  with  a  naive 
astonishment.     After  having  sown  the  wind  she  was 


874  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  BOYALTT. 

utterly  surprised  to  reap  the  whirlwind.  What !  she 
said  to  herself,  my  husband  is  minister,  or,  to  speak 
with  great  exactness,  I  am  the  minister  myself,  and 
yet  there  are  people  in  France  who  are  dissatisfied ! 
Ungrateful  nation,  why  dost  thou  not  appreciate  thy 
happiness  ?  Madame  Roland  resembled  certain  poli- 
ticians, who,  having  attained  to  power,  would  will- 
ingly disembarrass  themselves  of  those  by  whose  aid 
they  reached  it.  For  the  second  time  she  had  just 
arrived  at  the  goal  of  her  ambition.  Who  dared, 
then,  to  pollute  her  joy?  Why  did  that  marplot, 
Danton,  come  with  his  untimely  massacres  to  destroy 
such  brilliant  projects  and  banish  such  delightful 
dreams  ?  The  man  who,  as  if  in  derision  and  antith- 
esis, allowed  himself  to  be  called  the  Minister  of 
Justice,  produced  the  effect  of  a  monster  on  Madame 
Roland.  The  republic  as  conceived  by  him  had  not 
the  head  of  a  goddess,  but  of  a  Gorgon.  Its  eyes 
glittered  with  a  sinister  lustre.  The  sword  it  held 
was  that  of  an  assassin  or  a  headsman. 

Madame  Roland  was  greatly  astonished  when,  on 
Sunday,  September  2,  1792,  toward  five  in  the  even- 
ing, when  the  massacres  had  already  begun,  she  saw 
two  hundred  men  of  forbidding  appearance  arrive  at 
the  Ministry  of  the  Interior  and  ask  for  her  husband, 
who  was  absent.  Lucky  for  him  he  was ;  for  albeit  a 
minister,  they  had  come  to  arrest  him  in  virtue  of  a 
mandate  of  the  Communal  Council  of  Surveillance. 
Not  fmding  Roland,  the  two  hundred  men  retired. 
One  of  them,  with  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up  to  his 


MADAME  ROLANB  DURING  THE  MASSACRES.  375 

elbows,  and  a  sabre  in  his  hand,  declaimed  furiously 
against  the  treachery  of  ministers.  A  few  minutes 
later,  Danton  said  to  Potion :  "  Do  you  know  what 
they  have  taken  into  their  heads  ?  If  they  haven't 
issued  a  decree  to  arrest  Roland !  "  — "  Who  did 
that?"  demanded  the  mayor.  —  "Eh  !  those  devils  of 
committeemen.  I  have  taken  the  mandate ;  hold  I 
here  it  is  !  " 

What  was  Madame  Roland  doing  the  next  day, 
when  the  worst  of  the  massacres  were  going  on? 
She  gave  a  dinner,  and  allowed  the  Prussian,  Ana- 
charsis  Clootz,  who  came,  moreover,  uninvited,  to  make 
a  regular  defence  of  these  horrible  murders.  "  The 
events  of  the  day,"  she  says  in  her  Memoirs,  "formed 
the  subject  of  conversation.  Clootz  pretended  to 
prove  that  it  was  an  indispensable  and  salutary  meas- 
ure ;  he  uttered  a  good  many  commonplaces  about 
the  people's  rights,  the  justice  of  their  vengeance, 
and  of  its  utility  to  the  welfare  of  the  species ;  he 
talked  a  long  while  and  very  loudly,  ate  still  more, 
and  fatigued  more  than  one  listener." 

And  yet,  revolutionary  passions  had  not  extin- 
guished every  notion  of  humanity  and  justice  in 
Madame  Roland's  soul.  On  that  very  day  she  in- 
duced her  husband  to  write  a  letter  to  the  National 
Assembly  concerning  the  massacres.  But  how  weak 
and  undecided  is  this  letter,  and  how  public  opinion 
must  have  been  lowered  and  debased  when  it  could 
regard  Roland  as  a  courageous  minister !  In  place 
of  scathing  the  murderers  with  the  energy  of  an  hon- 


376  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

est  man,  he  pleads  extenuating  circumstances  in  their 
favor.  "  It  is  in  the  nature  of  things  and  according 
to  the  human  heart,"  he  said  in  his  pale  missive, 
"  that  victory  should  lead  to  some  excesses.  The 
sea,  agitated  by  a  violent  storm,  continues  to  roar 
long  after  the  tempest ;  but  everything  has  its  limits 
and  must  finally  see  them  determined.  Yesterday 
was  a  day  over  whose  events  we  ought,  perhaps,  to 
draw  a  veil.  I  know  that  the  terrible  vengeance  of 
the  people  carries  with  it  a  sort  of  justice  ;  but  how 
easy  it  is  for  scoundrels  and  traitors  to  abuse  this 
effervescence,  and  how  necessary  it  is  to  arrest  it !  " 
This  language  produced  not  the  least  effect.  The 
massacres  went  on,  and  Roland  remained  minister ; 
although  in  his  letter  of  September  3  he  had  written : 
"  I  ask  the  privilege  of  resigning  if  the  silence  of  the 
laws  does  not  permit  me  to  act."  The  virtuous  Ro- 
land sat  in  the  Council  beside  his  colleague,  the 
organizer  of  this  human  butchery.  September  13,  he 
addressed  a  letter  to  the  Parisians  in  which  he  burnt 
incense  to  himself,  bragged  about  his  character,  his 
actions,  and  his  firmness,  and  carried  his  infatuation 
so  far  as  to  write :  "  I  have  twice  accepted  a  burden 
which  I  felt  myself  able  to  beai."  Ah !  how  difficult 
it  is  to  renoimce  even  a  shadow  of  power,  and  of 
what  compromises  with  their  couLciences  are  not 
ministers  capable  in  order  to  retain  for  a  few  days 
longer  the  portfolios  that  are  slipping  from  their 
hands  !  In  the  depths  of  his  soul  Roland,  like  his 
wife,  had  the  profoundest  horror  of  the  murders  and 


MADAME  BOLAND  DUBING  THE  MA8SACBES.   377 

the  murderers.  And  yet  notice  how  he  extenuates 
them  in  his  letter  to  the  Parisians :  "  I  admired 
August  10 ;  I  trembled  over  the  results  of  September 
2 ;  I  carefully  considered  what  the  betrayed  patience 
of  the  people  and  their  justice  had  produced,  and  I 
did  not  blame  a  first  impulse  too  inconsiderately ;  I 
believe  that  its  further  progress  should  have  been 
prevented,  and  that  those  who  were  seeking  to  per- 
petuate it  were  deceived  by  their  imagination  or  by 
cruel  and  evil-minded  men.  If  the  erring  brethren 
recognize  that  they  have  been  deceived,  let  them 
come ;  my  arms  are  open  to  them."  That  was  a 
very  prompt  amnesty.  Already  the  assassins  are  but 
erring  brethren,  and  the  minister  welcomes  them  to 
his  arms  ! 

Thie  Gironde  kept  silence,  or,  if  it  spoke,  it  was  to 
attribute,  like  Vergniaud,  the  massacres  "  to  the  Smi- 
gres  and  the  satellites  of  Coblentz."  Later  on,  they 
were  horrified  by  the  crimes,  but  it  was  when  others 
were  to  profit  by  them.  Each  taken  by  himself,  the 
Girondins  did  not  hesitate  to  condemn  the  murders ; 
but  taken  as  a  whole,  they  considered  merely  the  in- 
terests of  their  party.  Were  not  three  of  them  still 
in  the  Ministerial  Council  ?  What  had  they  to  com- 
plain 1%  then?  The  September  massacres  are  the 
most  striking  expression  of  what  abominations  the 
ambitious  may  commit  or  allow  to  be  committed  in 
order  to  maintain  themselves  a  few  weeks  longer  in 
power. 

But  there  is  a  voice  in  the  depths  of  conscience 


878  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  EOYALTT. 

which  neither  interest  nor  ambition  can  succeed  in 
stifling.  Madame  Roland  could  not  blind  herself. 
The  odious  reality  appeared  to  her.  At  last  she  saw 
the  yawning  gulf  beneath  her  feet,  and  she  uttered 
a  cry  of  terror.  A  secret  voice  warned  her  that  her 
fate  would  be  like  that  of  the  September  victims. 
After  the  9th  of  that  fatal  month  her  imagination 
was  vividly  impressed.  Bloody  phantoms  rose  before 
her.  She  wrote  on  that  day  to  Bancal  des  Issarts :  "  If 
you  knew  the  frightful  details  of  these  expeditions. 
.  .  .  You  know  my  enthusiasm  for  the  Revolution ; 
well,  I  am  ashamed  of  it ;  it  has  become  hideous.  In 
a  week  .  .  .  how  do  I  know  what  may  happen  ?  It 
is  degrading  to  remain  in  office,  and  we  are  not  per- 
mitted to  leave  Paris.  We  are  detained  so  that  we 
may  be  destroyed  at  the  propitious  moment." 

From  that  time  a  rising  anger  and  indignation  took 
possession  of  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  Egeria  of  the 
Girondins,  and  constantly  increased  until  the  hour 
when  she  ascended  the  steps  of  the  scaffold.  She 
writes  in  her  Memoirs,  apropos  of  the  September 
massacres  :  "  All  Paris  witnessed  these  horrible  scenes 
executed  by  a  small  number  of  wretches  (there  were 
but  fifteen  at  the  Abbey,  at  the  door  of  which  only 
two  National  Guards  were  stationed,  in  spi^'^  of  the 
applications  made  to  the  Commune  and  the  command- 
ant). All  Paris  permitted  it  to  go  on.  All  Paris  was 
accursed  in  my  eyes,  and  I  no  longer  hoped  that  lib- 
erty might  be  established  among  cowards,  insensible 
to  the  worst   outrages    that   could   be   perpetrated 


MADAME  ROLAND  DUBINO  THE  MASSACRES.   379 

against  nature  and  humanity,  cold  spectators  of  at- 
tempts which  the  courage  of  fifty  armed  men  could 
have  prevented  with  ease.  ...  It  is  not  the  first 
night  that  astonishes  me  ;  but  four  days  !  —  and 
inquisitive  people  going  to  see  this  spectacle !  No, 
I  know  nothing  in  the  annals  of  the  most  barbarous 
peoples  which  can  compare  with  these  atrocities." 

What  a  striking  lesson  for  those  who  play  with 
anarchical  passions  and  end  by  falling  themselves  into 
the  snares  they  have  laid  for  others  !  Nothing  is  more 
deserving  of  study  than  this  retaliatory  punishment 
which  is  found,  one  may  say,  on  every  page  of  revolu- 
tionary histories.  The  hour  was  coming  when  the 
Girondins  and  their  heroine  would  repent  of  the  means 
they  had  employed  to  overset  the  throne.  This  was 
when  the  same  means  were  employed  against  them, 
when  they  recognized  their  own  weapons  in  the 
wounds  they  received.  Then,  when  they  had  no 
more  interest  in  keeping  silence,  they  sought  to 
escape  a  complicity  that  gained  them  nothing.  In- 
stead of  the  luminous  heights  which  in  their  golden 
dreams  they  had  aspired  to  gain,  they  fell,  crushed 
and  overwhelmed,  into  a  dismal  gulf,  full  of  tears  and 
blood.  How  bitter  then  were  their  recriminations 
against  men  and  things  !  It  was  only  to  virtue  that 
the  dying  Brutus  said :  "  Thou  art  but  a  name."  The 
Girondins  said  it  also  to  glory,  to  country,  and  to 
liberty.  Those  among  them  who  did  not  succeed  in 
fleeing,  disavowed,  denounced,  and  insulted  each  other 
before  the  revolutionary  tribunal.     At  the  Concier- 


880  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

gerie  they  intoned  the  Marseillaise,  but  parodying 
the  demagogic  chant  in  this  wise :  — 

Centre  nous  de  la  tyrannie  ^ 
Le  couteau  sanglant  est  lev^. 

Read  the  Memoirs  of  Louvet,  Buzot,  Barbaroux, 
Potion,  and  Madame  Roland,  and  you  will  see  to 
what  extremes  of  bitterness  the  language  of  deceived 
ambition  can  go.  They  are  paroxysms  of  rage,  howls 
of  anger,  shrieks  of  despair.  Consider  the  difference 
between  philosophy  and  religion  !  The  philosophers 
curse,  and  the  Christian  pardons.  Yes,  as  Edgar 
Quinet  has  said,  "  Louis  XVI.  alone  speaks  of  for- 
giveness on  that  scaffold  to  which  the  others  were  to 
bring  thoughts  of  vengeance  and  despair.  And  by 
that  he  seems  still  to  reign  over  those  who  were  to 
follow  him  in  death  with  the  passions  and  the  furies 
of  earth."  Louis  XVI.  will  be  magnanimous  and 
calm.  A  celestial  sweetness  will  overspread  his 
royal  countenance.  An  infernal  rage  will  distort 
the  heart  and  the  features  of  the  Girondins.  What 
pains,  what  tortures,  in  their  death-struggle  !  Earth 
fails  them,  and  they  do  not  look  to  heaven.  What 
accents  of  disgust  and  hatred  when  they  speak  of 
their  former  accomplices,  now  become  their  execu- 
tioners ! 

"  Great  God ! "  Buzot  will  say,  "  if  it  is  only  by 
such  men  and  such  infamous  means  that  republics 

^  The  bloody  knife  of  tyranny  is  lifted  against  us. 


MADAME  ROLAND  DURING  THE  MASSACRES.  381 

can  arise  and  be  consolidated,  there  is  no  government 
more  frightful  on  this  earth  nor  more  fatal  to  human 
happiness."  He  will  address  these  insults,  worthy 
of  the  imprecations  of  Camillus,  to  the  city  of  Paris  : 
"  I  say  truly,  that  France  can  expect  neither  liberty 
nor  happiness  except  from  the  irreparable  destruction 
of  that  capital." 

Barbaroux  will  be  still  more  severe.  His  anathe- 
mas are  launched  not  only  at  Paris,  but  at  all  France. 
"  The  people,"  he  says,  "  do  not  deserve  that  one 
should  become  attached  to  them,  for  they  are  essen- 
tially ungrateful.  It  is  the  absurdest  folly  to  try  to 
conduct  to  liberty  people  without  morals,  who  blas- 
pheme God  and  adore  Marat.  These  people  are  no 
more  fit  for  a  philosophic  government  than  the  lazza- 
roni  of  Naples  or  the  cannibals  of  America.  .  .  . 
Liberty,  virtue,  sacred  rights  of  men,  to-day  you  are 
nothing  but  empty  names."  Potion,  before  dying, 
will  write  to  his  son  this  letter,  which  is  like  the 
testament  of  the  Gironde :  "  My  greatest  torment 
will  be  to  think  that  so  many  crimes  went  unpun- 
ished; vengeance  is  here  the  most  sacred  of  duties. 
.  .  .  My  son,  either  the  murderers  of  thy  father  and 
thy  country  will  be  delivered  to  the  severities  of  the 
law  and  expiate  their  crimes  upon  the  scaffold,  or 
thou  art  under  obligation  to  free  thy  country  from 
them.  They  have  broken  all  the  ties  of  society; 
their  crimes  are  of  such  a  nature  that  they  do  not 
fall  under  ordinary  rules.  From  such  monsters  every 
one  is  authorized  to  purge  the  earth." 


882  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

Madame  Roland  will  be  not  less  vehement  than 
Buzot,  Barbaroux,  and  Potion.  She  will  address 
these  severe  but  just  reproaches  to  her  friends  who 
had  not  been  valiant  enough  in  their  own  defence : 
"  They  temporized  with  crime,  the  cowards  !  They 
were  to  fall  in  their  turn,  but  they  succumb  shame- 
fully, pitied  by  nobody,  and  with  nothing  to  expect 
from  posterity  but  utter  contempt.  .  .  .  Rather  than 
obey  their  tyrants,  than  descend  from  the  bar  and  go 
out  of  the  Assembly  like  a  timid  flock  about  to  be 
branded  by  the  butcher,  why  did  they  not  do  justice 
to  themselves  by  falling  on  the  monsters  to  annihilate 
them  rather  than  be  sentenced  by  them  ?  "  It  is  not 
her  friends  alone  whom  her  anger  will  lash,  but  the 
sovereign  people,  the  people  once  so  flattered,  whom 
she  will  pursue  with  her  anathemas.  "  The  people," 
she  will  say,  "  can  feel  nothing  but  the  cannibal  joy 
of  seeing  blood  flow,  in  order  that  they  may  run 
no  risk  of  shedding  their  own.  That  predicted  time 
has  come  when,  if  they  ask  for  bread,  dead  bodies 
will  be  given  them  ;  but  their  degraded  nature  takes 
pleasure  in  the  spectacle,  and  the  satisfied  instinct  of 
cruelty  makes  the  dearth  supportable  until  it  becomes 
absolute."  The  Egeria  of  the  Girondins  will  com- 
prehend that  all  is  lost,  that  even  her  blood  will  be 
sterile,  and  that  France  is  condemned  either  to  anar- 
chy or  a  dictatorship.  "  Liberty,"  she  will  exclaim, 
"  was  i^ot  made  for  this  corrupt  nation,  which  leaves 
the  bed  of  debauchery  or  the  dunghill  of  poverty 
only  to  brutalize  itself  in  license,  and  howl  as  it 


MADAME  ROLAND  DURING  THE  MASi^ACRES.   383 

wallows  in  the  blood  streaming  from  scaffolds." 
Like  the  damned  souls  in  Dante,  Madame  Roland 
will  leave  all  hope  behind,  and  when,  a  few  days 
after  Marie  Antoinette,  she  ascends  the  steps  of  the 
guillotine,  instead  of  thinking  of  heaven,  like  the 
Queen,  she  will  address  this  sarcastic  speech  to  the 
plaster  statue  which  has  replaced  that  of  Louis  XV. : 
"  O  Liberty  !  how  they  have  betrayed  thee  !  " 

But  let  us  not  anticipate.  The  Girondins  are  still 
to  have  a  glimmer  of  joy.  The  Republic  is  about  to 
be  proclaimed. 


XXXVII. 

THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 

"  /^NE  of  the  astonishing  things  in  the  French 
V_y  Revolution,"  says  one  of  the  most  eminent 
writers  of  the  democratic  school,  Edgar  Quinet,  "  is 
the  unexpectedness  with  which  the  great  changes 
occur.  The  most  important  events,  the  destruction 
of  the  monarchy  and  the  advent  of  the  Republic, 
came  about  without  any  previous  warning."  The 
most  ardent  republicans  were  royalists,  not  merely 
under  the  old  regime,  but  after  1789,  and  even  up  to 
August  10,  1792.  Marat  wrote,  in  No.  374  of  the 
Ami  du  Peuple,  February  17,  1791:  "I  have  often 
been  represented  as  a  mortal  enemy  of  royalty,  but  I 
claim  that  the  King  has  no  better  friend  than  my- 
self." And  he  added:  "As  to  Louis  XVI.  person- 
ally, I  know  very  well  that  his  defects  are  chargeable 
solely  to  his  education,  and  that  by  nature  he  is  an 
excellent  sort  of  man,  whom  one  would  have  cited  as 
a  worthy  citizen  if  he  had  not  had  the  misfortune  to 
be  bom  on  the  throne ;  but,  such  as  he  is,  he  is  at 
all  events  the  King  we  want.  We  ought  to  thank 
Heaven  for  having  given  him  to  us.  We  ought  to 
pray  that  he  may  be  spared  to  us."  Marat  praying, 
384 


THE  PBOCLAMATION  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.    385 

Marat  thanking  Heaven !  and  for  whom  ?  For  the 
King.  Does  not  that  prove  what  deep  root  royalty 
had  taken  in  France?  April  20,  1792,  the  same 
Marat  bitterly  reproached  Condorcet  with  "shame- 
lessly calumniating  the  Jacobin  Club,  and  perfidi- 
ously accusing  it  of  wishing  to  destroy  the  monarchy" 
(i'  Ami  du  Peuple,  No.  434).  June  13,  he  attacked 
those  who  violated  the  oath  taken  at  the  time  of  the 
Federation,  and  said :  "  To  defend  the  Constitution 
is  the  same  thing  as  to  be  faithful  to  the  nation,  the 
law,  and  the  King  "  (i'  Ami  du  Peuple,  No.  448). 

During  the  entire  continuance  of  the  Legislative 
Assembly,  when  Robespierre,  having  left  the  tribune, 
was  pretending  to  educate  the  people  by  means  of  his 
journal,  what  he  defended  to  the  utmost  was  the  royal 
Constitution.  Madame  Roland  relates  that  after 
the  flight  to  Varennes,  when  the  prospect  of  a  repul)- 
lic  loomed  up,  possibly  for  the  first  time,  at  a  secret 
meeting,  Robespierre,  grinning  as  usual,  and  biting 
his  nails,  asked  ironically  what  a  republic  might  be. 
In  June,  1792,  the  entire  Jacobin  Club  was  royalist 
still.  It  proposed  to  drop  Billaud- Varennes,  because 
Billaud- Varennes  had  dared  to  put  the  monarchical 
principle  in  question.  On  the  7th  of  July  following, 
two  months  and  a  half,  that  is,  before  the  opening  of 
the  Convention,  at  the  time  of  the  famous  Lamourette 
Kiss,  all  the  members  of  the  Assembly  swore  to  exe- 
crate the  Republic  forever.  Three  weeks  after  Septem- 
ber 2,  Danton  alleged  the  paucity  and  the  weakness 
of  the  republicans,  compared  with  the  royalists,  as 


386  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  BOYALTY. 

motives  for  the  massacres.  Potion  has  said :  "  When 
the  insurrection  of  August  10  was  undertaken,  there 
were  but  five  men  in  France  who  desired  a  republic." 

Buzot,  Madame  Roland's  idol,  has  written:  "A 
wretched  mob,  unintelligent  and  unenlightened,  vom- 
ited forth  insults  against  royalty;  the  rest  neither 
desired  nor  willed  anything  but  the  Constitution  of 
1791,  and  spoke  of  the  republicans  just  as  one  speaks 
of  extremely  honest  fools.  This  people  is  republican 
only  through  force  of  the  guillotine."  And  yet,  Sep- 
tember 21,  1792,  the  Convention,  holding  its  first  sit- 
ting in  the  Hall  of  the  Manage,  began  by  proclaiming 
the  Republic. 

Buzot,  in  his  Memoirs,  has  thus  described  the  dep- 
utations that  were  sent  to  the  bar,  and  the  public  that 
occupied  the  galleries :  "  It  seemed  as  if  the  outlet  of 
every  sewer  in  Paris  and  other  great  cities  had  been 
searched  for  whatever  was  most  filthy,  hideous,  and 
infected.  Villainously  dirty  faces,  surmounted  by 
shocks  of  greasy  hair,  and  with  eyes  half  sunk  into 
their  heads,  they  spat  out,  with  their  nauseating 
breath,  the  grossest  insults  mingled  with  the  sharp 
snarls  of  carnivorous  beasts.  The  galleries  were 
worthy  of  such  legislators :  men  whose  frightful 
aspect  betokened  crime  and  poverty,  and  women 
whose  shameless  faces  expressed  the  filthiest  debauch- 
ery. When  all  these  with  hands  and  feet  and  voice 
made  their  horrible  racket,  one  seemed  to  be  in  an 
assembly  of  devils." 

When  the  session  opened,  Collot  d'Herbois  was 


THE  PBOCLAMATION   OF  THE  REPUBLIC.    387 

the  first  speaker.  He  said :  "  There  is  a  matter 
which  you  cannot  put  off  until  to-morrow,  which  you 
cannot  put  off  until  this  evening,  which  you  cannot 
defer  for  a  single  instant  without  being  unfaithful 
to  the  wishes  of  the  nation ;  it  is  the  abolition  of 
royalty."  Quinet  having  objected  that  it  would  be 
better  to  present  this  question  when  the  Constitution 
was  to  be  discussed,  Gr^goire,  constitutional  Bishop 
of  Blois,  exclaimed :  "  Certainly,  no  one  will  ever 
propose  to  us  to  preserve  the  deadly  race  of  kings  in 
France.  All  the  dynasties  have  been  breeds  of  rav- 
enous beasts,  living  on  nothing  but  human  flesh ; 
still  it  is  necessary  to  reassure  plainly  the  friends  of 
liberty;  this  magic  talisman,  which  still  has  power 
to  stupefy  so  many  men,  must  be  destroyed."  Bazire 
remarked  that  it  would  be  a  frightful  example  to  the 
people  to  see  an  Assembly  which  they  had  entrusted 
with  their  dearest  interests,  resolve  upon  anything  in 
a  moment  of  enthusiasm  and  without  thorough  dis- 
cussion. Gr^goire  replied  with  vehemence  :  "  Eh  ! 
what  need  is  there  of  discussion  when  everybody  is 
of  the  same  mind?  Kings,  in  the  moral  order,  are 
what  monsters  are  in  the  physical  order.  Courts  are 
the  workshop  of  crime  and  the  lair  of  tyrants.  The 
history  of  kings  is  the  martyrology  of  nations ;  we 
are  all  equally  penetrated  by  this  truth.  What  is  the 
use  of  discussing  it  ?  "  Then  the  question,  put  to 
vote  in  these  terms :  "  The  National  Convention 
declares  that  royalty  is  abolished  in  France,"  was 
adopted  amidst  applause. 


388  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

At  four  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  a  munic- 
ipal officer  named  Lubin,  surrounded  by  mounted 
gendarmes  and  a  large  crowd  of  people,  came  to  read 
a  proclamation  before  the  Temple  tower.  The  trum- 
pets were  sounded.  A  great  silence  ensued,  and 
Lubin,  who  had  a  stentorian  voice,  read  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  the  royal  family  confined  in  the  dun- 
geon, this  proclamation,  the  death  knell  of  monarchy : 
"  Royalty  is  abolished  in  France.  All  public  acts 
will  be  dated  from  the  first  year  of  the  Republic. 
The  seal  of  State  will  be  inscribed  with  this  motto : 
Repuhlique  frangaise.  The  National  Seal  will  repre- 
sent a  woman  seated  on  a  sheaf  of  arms,  holding  in 
one  hand  a  pike  surmounted  by  a  liberty-cap."  Hubert 
(the  famous  P^re  Duchesne)  was  at  this  moment  on 
guard  near  the  royal  family.  Sitting  on  the  threshold 
of  their  chamber,  he  sought  to  discover  a  movement 
of  vexation  or  anger,  or  any  other  emotion  on  their 
faces.  He  was  unsuccessful.  While  listening  to  the 
revolutionary  decree  which  snatched  away  his  throne, 
the  descendant  of  Saint  Louis,  Henry  IV.,  and  Louis 
XIV.  experienced  not  the  slightest  trouble.  He  had 
a  book  in  his  hand,  and  he  quietly  went  on  reading 
it.  As  impassive  as  her  spouse,  the  Queen  neither 
made  a  movement  nor  uttered  a  word.  When  the 
proclamation  was  finished,  the  trumpets  sounded 
again.  Cl^ry  then  went  to  the  window,  and  the  eyes 
of  the  crowd  turned  instantly  towards  him.  As  they 
mistook  him  for  Louis  XVI.,  they  overwhelmed  him 
with  insults.     The  gendarmes  made  threatening  ges- 


THE  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.    389 

tures,  and  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  so  as  to  quiet 
the  tumult.  While  the  populace  was  unchained 
around  the  Temple  prison,  one  man  alone  was  calm, 
one  man  alone  seemed  a  stranger  to  all  anxiety:  it 
was  the  prisoner. 

A  new  era  begins.  The  death-struggle  of  royalty 
is  over.  Royalty  is  dead,  and  the  King  is  soon  to  die. 
Gr^goire,  who  had  stolen  the  vote  (there  were  but 
371  conventionists  present ;  374  were  absent ;  that  is 
to  say,  more  than  half),  is  both  surprised  and  enthu- 
siastic about  what  he  has  done.  He  confesses  that 
for  several  days  his  excessive  joy  deprived  him  of 
appetite  and  sleep.  Such  joy  will  not  last  very  long. 
M.  Taine  compares  revolutionary  France  to  a  badly 
nourished  workman,  poor,  and  overdriven  with  toil, 
and  yet  who  drinks  strong  liquors.  At  first,  in  his 
intoxication,  he  thinks  he  is  a  millionnaire,  loved  and 
admired  ;  he  thinks  himself  a  king.  "  But  soon  the 
radiant  visions  give  place  to  black  and  monstrous 
phantoms.  ...  At  present,  France  has  passed 
through  the  period  of  joyous  delirium,  and  is  about 
to  enter  on  another  that  is  sombre  ;  behold  it,  capable 
of  daring,  suffering,  and  doing  all  things,  whenever 
its  guides,  as  widely  astray  as  itself,  shall  point  out 
an  enemy  or  an  obstacle  to  its  fury." 

How  quickly  the  disenchantments  come  !  Already 
Lafayette,  the  man  of  generous  illusions,  has  had  to 
imitate  the  conduct  of  those  emigrSs  on  whom  he  has 
been  so  severe.  He  has  fled  to  a  foreign  land,  and 
found  there  not   a  refuge,  but  a  prison.     He  will 


390  THE  DOWNFALL   OF  ROYALTY. 

remain  more  than  five  years  in  the  gloomy  fortress 
of  Olmutz.  The  victor  of  Valmy,  Dumouriez,  will 
hardly  be  more  fortunate.  He  will  go  over  to  the 
enemy,  and  live  in  exile  on  a  pension  from  foreign 
powers.  How  close  together  deceptions  and  recan- 
tations come !  Marat,  who  had  already  said  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  capital :  "  Eternal  cockneys,  with 
what  epithets  would  I  not  assail  you  in  the  tran- 
sports of  my  despair,  if  I  knew  any  more  humili- 
ating than  that  of  Parisians  ?  "  ^  Marat,  who  had 
said  to  all  Frenchmen :  "  No,  no ;  liberty  is  not  made 
for  an  ignorant,  light,  and  frivolous  nation,  for 
cits  brought  up  in  fear,  dissimulation,  knavery,  and 
lying,  nourished  in  cunning,  intrigue,  sycophancy, 
avarice,  and  swindling,  subsisting  only  by  theft  and 
rapine,  aspiring  after  nothing  but  pleasures,  titles, 
and  decorations,  and  always  ready  to  sell  themselves 
for  gold !  "  2  Marat  will  write.  May  7th,  1793,  that 
is  to  say,  at  the  apogee  of  his  favorite  political 
system :  "  All  measures  taken  up  to  the  present  day 
by  the  assemblies,  constituent,  legislative,  and  con- 
ventional, to  establish  and  consolidate  liberty,  have 
been  thoughtless,  vain,  and  illusory,  even  supposing 
them  to  have  been  taken  in  good  faith.  The  gi-eater 
part  seem  to  have  had  for  their  object  to  perpetuate 
oppression,  bring  on  anarchy,  death,  poverty,  and 
famine  ;  to  make  the  people  weary  of  their  independ- 
ence, to  make  liberty  a  burden,  to  cause  them  to 

^  Ami  du  Peuple,  No.  429.  ^  ^^j  ^^  Peuple,  No.  539. 


THE  PROCLAMATION   OF  THE  BEPUBLIC.     391 

detest  the  Revolution,  through  its  excessive  disorders, 
to  exhaust  them  by  watching,  fatigue,  want,  and 
inanition,  to  reduce  them  to  despair  by  hunger,  and 
to  bring  them  back  to  despotism  by  civil  war."  ^ 

There  were  six  ministers  appointed  on  August  10. 
Two  of  them,  Clavi^re  and  Roland,  will  kill  them- 
selves ;  two  others,  Lebrun-Tondu  and  Danton,  will 
be  guillotined;  the  remaining  two,  Servan  and 
Monge,  are  destined  to  become,  one  a  general  of 
division  under  Napoleon,  and  the  other  a  senator  of 
the  Empire  and  Count  of  P^luse ;  and  when,  at  the 
beginning  of  his  reign,  the  Emperor  complains  to 
the  latter  because  there  are  still  partisans  of  the 
Republic  to  be  found :  "  Sire,"  the  former  minister  of 
August  10  will  answer,  "  we  had  so  much  trouble  to 
make  them  republicans !  may  it  please  Your  Majesty 
kindly  to  allow  them  at  least  a  few  days  to  become 
imperialists  !  "  Of  the  two  men  who  had  so  enthu- 
siastically brought  about  the  proclamation  of  the 
Republic,  one,  Collot  d'Herbois,  will  be  transported 
to  Guiana  by  the  republicans,  and  die  there  in  a 
paroxysm  of  burning  fever ;  the  other,  Gr^goire,  will 
be  a  senator  of  the  Empire,  which  will  not,  however, 
prevent  him  from  promoting  the  deposition  of 
Napoleon  as  he  had  promoted  that  of  Louis  XVI. 
There  are  men  who  will  exchange  the  jacket  of  the 
sans-culotte  for  the  gilded  livery  of  an  imperial 
functionary.      The  conventionists  and  regicides  are 

1  La  Publiciste  de  la  R^publique,  No.  211. 


392  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

transformed  into  dukes  and  counts  and  barons. 
David,  the  official  painter  of  the  Empire,  Napoleon's 
favorite,  will  paint  with  joy  the  picture  of  a  pope, 
and  be  very  proud  of  his  great  picture  of  the  new 
Charlemagne's  coronation.  But  listen  to  Edgar 
Quinet :  "  When  I  see  the  orators  of  deputations 
taking  things  with  such  a  high  hand  at  the  bar,  and 
lording  it  so  proudly  over  mute  and  complaisant 
assemblies,  I  should  like  to  know  what  became  of 
them  a  few  years  later."  And  thereupon  he  sets  out 
to  discover  their  traces.  But  after  considerable  inves- 
tigation he  stops.  "  If  I  searched  any  further,"  he 
exclaims,  "  I  should  be  afraid  of  encountering  them 
among  the  petty  employes  of  the  Empire.  It  was 
quite  enough  to  see  Huguenin,  the  indomitable  presi- 
dent of  the  insurrectionary  Commune,  so  quickly 
tamed,  soliciting  and  obtaining  a  post  as  clerk  of 
town  gates  as  soon  as  absolute  power  made  its  reap- 
pearance after  the  18th  Brumaire.  The  terrible 
Santerre  becomes  the  gentlest  of  men  as  soon  as  he  is 
pensioned  by  the  First  Consul.  Hardly  had  Bourdon 
de  rOise  and  Albitte,  those  men  of  iron,  felt  the  rod 
than  you  see  them  the  supplest  functionaries  of  the 
Empire.  The  great  king-taker,  Drouet,  thrones  it 
in  the  sub-prefecture  of  Sainte-Menehould.  Napo- 
leon has  related  that,  on  August  10,  he  was  in  a  shop 
in  the  Carrousel,  whence  he  witnessed  the  taking  of 
the  palace.  If  he  had  a  presentiment  then,  he  must 
have  smiled  at  the  chaos  which  he  was  to  reduce  so 
easily  to  its  former  limits.  How  many  furies,  and  all 
to  terminate  so  soon  in  the  accustomed  obedience  I  " 


THE  PROCLAMATION   OF  THE  REPUBLIC.    393 

Is  not  history,  with  its  perpetual  alternatives  of 
license  and  despotism,  like  a  vicious  circle  ?  And  do 
not  the  nations  pass  their  time  in  producing  webs  of 
Penelope,  whose  bloody  threads  they  weave  and  un- 
weave again  with  tears  ?  All  governments,  royalties, 
empires,  republics,  ought  to  be  more  modest.  But  all, 
profoundly  forgetful  of  the  lessons  of  the  past,  believe 
themselves  immortal.  All  declare  haughtily  that 
they  have  closed  forever  the  era  of  revolutions. 

With  the  advent  of  the  Republic  a  new  calendar 
had  been  put  in  force.  The  equality  of  days  and 
nights  at  the  autumnal  equinox  opened  the  era  of 
civil  equality  on  September  22.  "  Who  would  have 
believed  that  this  human  geometry,  so  profoundly 
calculated,  was  written  in  the  sand,  and  that  in  a 
few  years  no  traces  of  it  would  remain  ?  .  .  .  The 
heavens  have  continued  to  gravitate,  and  have 
brought  back  the  equality  of  days  and  nights;  but 
they  have  allowed  the  promised  liberty  and  equality 
to  perish,  like  meteors  that  vanish  in  empty  space.  .  .  . 
The  sans-culottes  have  not  been  able  to  make  them- 
selves popular  among  the  starry  peoples.  .  .  .  An 
ancient  belief  which  the  men  of  the  Revolution  had 
neglected  through  fear  or  through  contempt  was  again 
met  with ;  a  spectre  had  appeared ;  a  chilly  breath, 
like  that  of  Samuel,  had  made  itself  felt ;  and  lo,  the 
edifice  so  sagely  constructed,  and  leaning  on  the 
worlds,  has  vanished  away."  ^ 

1  Edgar  Quinet,  La  Revolution,  t.  11. 


394  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  ROYALTY. 

There  lies  at  the  foundation  of  history  a  supreme 
sadness  and  melancholy.  This  never-ending  series 
of  illusions  and  deceptions,  errors  and  afflictions, 
faults  and  crimes ;  this  rage,  and  passion,  and  folly ; 
so  many  efforts  and  fatigues,  so  many  dangers,  tor- 
tures, and  tears,  so  much  blood,  such  revolutions, 
catastrophies,  cataclysms  of  every  sort,  —  and  all  for 
what  ?  Wretched  humanity,  rolling  its  stone  of  Sisy- 
phus from  age  to  age,  inspires  far  more  compassion 
than  contempt.  The  painful  reflections  caused  by 
the  annals  of  all  peoples  are  perhaps  more  sombre 
for  the  French  Revolution  than  for  any  other  period. 
Edgar  Quinet  justly  laments  over  the  inequality 
between  the  sacrifices  of  the  victims  and  the  results 
obtained  by  posterity.  He  affirms  that  in  other  his- 
tories one  thing  reconciles  us  to  the  fury  of  men, 
and  that  is  the  speedy  fecundity  of  the  blood  they 
shed;  for  example,  when  one  sees  that  of  the  martyrs 
flow,  one  also  sees  Christianity  spread  over  the  earth 
from  the  depth  of  the  catacombs ;  while  amongst  us, 
the  blood  which  streamed  most  abundantly  and  from 
such  lofty  sources,  did  not  find  soil  equally  well  pre- 
pai^ed.  And  the  illustrious  historian  exclaims  sadly : 
"The  supreme  consolation  has  been  refused  to  our 
greatest  dead;  their  blood  has  not  been  a  seed  of 
virtue  and  independence  for  their  posterity.  If  they 
should  reappear  once  more,  they  would  feel  themselves 
tortured  again,  and  on  a  worse  scaffold,  by  the  denial 
of  their  descendants ;  they  would  hurl  at  us  again  the 
same  adieu :  '  O  Liberty !  how  they  have  betrayed 
thee  I'" 


INDEX. 


Abbey  prison,  the,  massacre  of  the 

prisoners  of,  363. 
Ankarstrcem,  Captain,  the  assassin 

of  Gustavus  III.,  37,  41. 
Aries,  Archbishop  of,  massacre  of, 

364. 
Assassins,  the,  of  the  September 

massacres,  362  et  seq.;  their  fate, 

370. 
Assignats  created,  128. 
Aubier,  M.  d',  on  the  King's  unwar- 

like  disposition,  288  ;    with  the 

King  in  the  Convent  of  the  Feuil- 

lants,  330. 

Barbarous,  visionary  schemes  of, 
271  ;  declares  the  King  might 
have  maintained  himself,  285; 
anathemas  of,  on  the  Septem- 
brists,  381. 

Barry,  Madame  du,  her  letter  to 
Marie  Antoinette,  138. 

Beaumarchais  compared  with  Du- 
mouriez,  95. 

Belgium,  the  invasion  of,  a  failure, 
136. 

Beugnot,  Count,  his  description  of 
Madame  Roland,  87,  92  ;  philo- 
sophic remarks  of,  on  woman, 
108. 

Billaud-Varennes,  246  ;  at  the 
Abbey,  363. 

Blanc,  M.  Louis,  quoted,  370. 

Bonne-Carrere,  director  of  foreign 
affairs,  portrait  of,  101. 

Bossuet  quoted,  134. 

Bouill^,  Count  de,  warns  Gustavus 
III.  of  the  conspiracy  against 
him,  38;  his  judgment  on  Gus- 
tavus III.,  43. 


Bouille,  Marquis  de,  suppresses  the 
insurrection  at  Nancy,  111,  133. 

Brissac,  Duke  of,  his  devotion  to 
royalty,  137  et  seq.;  intolerable 
to  the  Jacobins,  141 ;  accused  in 
the  Assembly,  144 ;  assassinated, 
147,  369. 

Brunswick,  Duke  of,  his  manifesto, 
267. 

Buzot,  Madame  Roland's  affection 
for,  64 ;  quoted,  386. 

Calvet,  M.,  sent  to  the  Abbey,  144. 

Campan,  Madame,  describes  the 
Queen's  emotion  on  hearing  of 
her  brother's  death,  28;  her  ac- 
count of  Dumouriez'  interview 
with  the  Queen,  155 ;  in  peril  in 
the  Tuileries,  324. 

Carmelite  church,  massacre  at,  364. 

Chateaubriand,  quotation  from,  9. 

Chateauvieux,  the  fete  of,  110  et 
seq.;  mutinous  soldiers  of,  pun- 
ished, 112 ;  feted  by  the  Jacobins, 
113, 118;  admitted  to  the  Assem- 
bly, 117. 

Che'nier,  Andre,  patriotic  conduct 
of,  113,  124;  his  ode  to  David, 
119 ;  his  fate,  124. 

Claviere  made  Minister  of  the  Fi- 
nances, 103,  160. 

Clootz,  Anacharsis,  defends  the  Sep- 
tember massacres,  375. 

ConUdie-Fran<iaise,  the,  in  the 
Revolution,  10. 

Commune,  insurrectionary,  formed 
in  the  H6tel-de-Ville,  281 ;  refuse 
to  extinguish  the  tire  at  the 
Tuileries,  326,  335,  345,  355;  in- 
vites every  commune  in  France 
396 


396 


INDEX. 


to  follow  the  example  of  massa-  \ 
ere  in  Paris,  369 ;  terrorize  the  j 
Assembly,  370;  order  the  arrest 
of  Roland,  374,  378. 

Constitutional  Guard,  the  composi- 
tion of,  140  ;  disarmed,  145. 

Ck)rdeliers,  club  of  the,  7;  chiefs 
of,  7 ;  decide  to  attack  the  Tui- 
leries,  274. 

Danjoa  tarns  the  mob  bearing  the 
Princess  de  Lamballe's  head  away 
from  the  Temple,  355. 

Danton,  cowardice  of,  271,  316;  his 
bloodthirsty  speech  to  the  Assem- 
bly, 361,  374;  fate  of,  391. 

Dauphin,  the,  the  red  cap  set  on  his 
head,  213;  bis  interest  in  the 
guard,  Drouet,  217,  219;  his 
prayer  for  the  King,  220 ;  on  the 
morning  of  August  10, 284 ;  taken 
from  his  mother's  arms  by  an 
insurrectionist,  297;  in  the  As- 
sembly, 299;  in  the  Convent  of 
the  Feuillants,  329,  333;  prayer 
taught  him  by  his  mother,  347. 

David,  his  part  in  the  fete  of 
Chateauvieux,  119 ;  conversation 
of,  319  ;  under  the  Empire,  392. 

Delorme,  the  negro  assassin,  367. 

Desilles,  killed  in  the  insurrection 
at  Nancy,  111. 

Drouet,  the  royalist  guard,  217. 

Dumouriez,  portrait  of,  by  Madame 
Roland,  94;  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  95;  "a  miserable  in- 
triguer," 95;  his  career,  96; 
Masson's  description  of  him,  98 ; 
plays  a  double  part,  101 ;  his  de- 
scription of  Louis  XVI.,  104 ; 
made  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
103;  Memoirs  of,  quoted,  127, 
129,  130  ;  urges  the  King  to  sign 
the  decree  for  the  transportation 
of  the  clergy,  150 ;  has  an  inter- 
view with  the  Queen,  153 ;  refuses 
to  be  Madame  Roland's  puppet, 
158;  aids  the  King  to  be  rid  of 
Roland    and    his    faction,    164; 


takes  the  portfolio  of  War,  166; 
before  the  Assembly,  167;  re- 
signs, 169;  final  interview  of, 
with  the  King,  171 ;  entreats  him 
not  to  veto  the  decrees,  172  et 
seq. ;  goes  to  the  army,  174. 
Duranton,  made  Minister  of  Jus- 
tice, 103,  160. 

Elisabeth,  Madame,  letter  of,  con- 
cerning tlie  fete  of  Chateauvieux, 
120;  remains  with  the  King  dur- 
ing the  invasion  of  the  Tuileries, 
200  ;  mistaken  by  the  mob  for 
Marie  Antoinette,  202 ;  rejoins  the 
Queen,  212 ;  letter  of,  to  Madame 
de  Kaigecourt,  239  ;  cherishes 
false  illusions,  265 ;  pious  maxim 
of,  276  ;  her  gentleness,  295  ; 
prayer  of,  in  the  Temple,  347. 

Emigration  of  the  nobility  the  rule 
in  1792,  2. 

Federation,  fete  of  the,  249  et  seq. 

Fersen,  Count  de,  new  information 
concerning,  14;  his  chivalric  de- 
votion to  Marie  Antoinette,  15; 
their  correspondence,  16;  secret 
mission  of,  18 ;  sees  the  King  and 
Queen,  19;  his  melancholy  end, 
21,22. 

Feuillants,  Convent  of  the,  royal 
family  imprisoned  in,  328  et  seq. 

Feuillants,  club  of,  6. 

Force,  the,  prison  of,  350. 

Fournier,  "  the  American,"  369. 

Francis  II.,  warlike  acts  of,  127. 

Geoffroy,  M.,  remarks  of,  on  Gus- 
tavus  III.,  33;  quoted,  132. 

Girondins,  the,  177  ;  hesitate  to 
depose  the  King,  271  ;  tacitly 
approve  the  massacres,  377. 

Grouges,  Olympe  de,  240. 

Gouvion,  M.  de,  protests  against 
admitting  the  Swiss  to  the  As- 
sembly, 116 ;  death  of,  167, 

Grand  Chatelet,  massacres  at,  367. 


INDEX. 


397 


Grave,  de,  made  Minister  of  War, 
103 ;  replaced  by  Servan,  160. 

Gre'goire  urges  the  abolition  of 
royalty,  387 ;  career  of,  after  the 
Revolution,  391. 

Guadet,  hostility  of,  to  Lafayette, 
234. 

Guillotine,  Doctor,  and  his  inven- 
tion, 12. 

Guillotine,  the,  12;  diversion  of 
society  over,  13. 

Gustavus  III.,  his  interest  in  Marie 
Antoinette,  17;  trusted  by  her, 
17 ;  letter  of,  to  her,  18 ;  at  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  32  ;  his  supersti- 
tion, 34;  his  promises  to  Louis 
XVI.,  36;  conspiracy  against,  37 
et  seq.;  assassination  of,  40  et 
seq.;  scenes  at  his  death,  42 ;  char- 
acter of,  43. 

Hannaches,  Mademoiselle  d',  30,77. 

Hebert,  Abbe,  confesses  the  King, 
276. 

Hebert  (P^re  Duchesne)  on  guard 
at  the  Temple,  388. 

Heine,  Heinrich,  quoted,  278. 

Herbois,  Collot  d',  his  part  in  the 
affair  of  the  regiment  of  Chateau- 
vieux,  112  et  seq. ;  attacks  Andre 
Chenier,  liA;  fate  of,  125;  boasts 
of  the  2d  of  September,  362; 
urges  the  abolition  of  royalty, 
387 ;  fate  of,  391. 

Hervelly,  M.  d',  brings  the  order  to 
the  Swiss  to  cease  firing,  310. 

Hue,  Fran9ois,  with  the  King  in  his 
captivity,  331 ;  receives  from  the 
King  a  lock  of  his  hair,  346. 

Huguenin,  the  orator  of  the  insur- 
rectionists of  June  20,  192 ;  chief 
of  the  Commune,  316. 

Insurrectionists  of  June  20,  organ- 
ization of,  182 ;  enter  the  hall  of 
the  Assembly,  193;  break  into 
the  Tuilerits,  198. 

Isle,  Rouget  de  1',  author  of  the 
Marseillaise,  269. 


Jacobin  Club,  place  of  its  meeting, 
5;  its  affiliations,  6;  Lafayette's 
remarks  on,  9;  joy  of  at,  the  death 
of  Gustavus  III.,  44;  the  insur- 
rectionary power  of,  177 ;  of  Brest 
and  Marseilles,  send  two  battal- 
ions to  Paris,  268;  royalist,  in 
June,  1792,  385. 

Jourdan,  the  headsman,  120. 

June  20,  insurrection  of,  186  et  seq. 

La  Chesnaye  commands  the  force 
in  the  Tuileries,  293. 

Lacoste,  made  Minister  of  the  Ma- 
rine, 103. 

Lafayette,  letter  of,  to  the  Assem- 
bly, 178  et  seq. ;  his  letter  not 
published,  but  referred  to  a  com- 
mittee, 181;  his  relations  to  the 
Jacobins,  230 ;  before  the  National 
Assembly,  232 ;  distrusted  by  the 
King  and  Queen,  236;  anxious 
that  the  King  should  leave  Paris, 
256. 

Lalanne,  the  grenadier,  and  Louis 
XVI.,  200. 

Lamartine,  quoted,  131;  his  observa- 
tions on  Lafayette,  231;  on  Mar 
dame  Roland,  372. 

Lamballe,  Princess  of,  121, 321, 331 ; 
not  allowed  to  go  to  the  Temple 
with  the  Queen,  343  ;  sent  to 
the  Force,  350  et  seq. ;  examina- 
tion and  execution  of,  352  et  seq. ; 
her  body  mutilated  and  her  head 
carried  on  a  pike  to  the  Temple, 
355;  her  heart  eaten,  358. 

Lamourette,  Abbe,  his  career,  241 ; 
his  speech  to  the  Assembly  and 
his  proposition  for  harmony,  242. 

Laporte  burns  the  Countess  de  la 
Motte's  book  at  the  Queen's 
order,  142. 

Lebel,  Madame  de,  353. 

Legendre,  addresses  the  King  in- 
solently, 202. 

Leopold  II.,  his  interest  in  French 
affairs,  23 ;  death  of,  27. 

Lessart,  de,  report  of,  disapproved 


398 


INDEX. 


by  the  Assembly,  28 ;  impeached, 
30 ;  massacre  of,  369. 

Lilienhorn,  Count  de,  one  of  the 
assassins  of  Gustavus  III.,  37,  45. 

Logographe,  box  of  the,  299  et  seq. 

Louis  XVI.,  despised  by  the  ^mi- 
gr€s,  25;  letter  of,  to  Gustavus 
III.,  36 ;  appoints  a  ministry  cho- 
sen by  the  Gironde,  103 ;  his  def- 
erence to  his  ministers,  104  et 
seq.;  declares  war  on  Austria, 
126, 129 ;  sufferings  of,  132 ;  not  a 
soldier,  133,  139;  has  no  plan, 
135 ;  anecdotes  of,  by  M.  de  Vau- 
blanc,  139,  140;  sacrifices  his 
guard,  145;  repents  his  conces- 
sions, 148 ;  for  several  days  in  a 
sort  of  stupor,  151;  insulted  by 
Roland  and  his  faction,  160 ;  Ma- 
dame Roland's  letter  to  him  read 
in  the  Council,  1G4 ;  asks  Dumou- 
riez  to  help  rid  him  of  Roland's 
faction,  164;  refuses  to  sign  the 
decree  against  the  priests,  169; 
accepts  the  resignation  of  Du- 
mouriez,  169 ;  resists  Dumouriez' 
entreaties  not  to  veto  the  decrees, 
172  ;  vetoes  the  decrees,  181  ; 
permits  the  gate  of  the  Tui- 
leries  to  be  opened  to  the  mob, 
195 ;  his  conduct  at  the  invasion 
of  the  Tuileries,  199  et  seq. ;  his 
reception  of  the  mob  in  the 
'Tuileries,  201;  addressed  by  the 
butcher  Legendre,  202 ;  in  bodily 
peril,  203;  returns  to  the  bed- 
chamber, 208 ;  letter  of,  to  the  As- 
sembly relative  to  the  invasion 
of  the  Tuileries,  223;  interview 
of,  with  Petion,  224 ;  incident  of 
the  red  bonnet,  226;  conversation 
of,  with  Bertrand  de  MoUeville, 
227 ;  repugnance  of,  to  Lafayette, 
236;  address  of,  to  the  Assembly, 
243;  letter  of,  to  the  Assembly, 
245 ;  his  plastron,  248 ;  takes  part 
in  the  fete  of  the  Federation,  249 
et  seq. ;  too  timorous  and  hesita- 
ting to  act,  257 ;  nominates  a  new 


cabinet,  269;  conciliatory  mes- 
sage of,  to  the  Assembly,  270; 
declines  to  entertain  any  plan  of 
escape,  273;  consents  that  the 
royalist  noblemen  should  defend 
him,  284;  unwarlike  character 
of,  288 ;  reviews  the  troops  in  the 
Tuileries  garden  and  narrowly 
escapes  from  them,  289;  urged 
by  Roederer,  goes  with  his  family 
to  the  Assembly,  292  et  seq. ;  his 
escort,  295 ;  addresses  the  Assem- 
bly, 300 ;  compelled  to  remain  in 
the  reporters'  gallery,  300 ;  orders 
the  defenders  of  the  Tuileries  to 
cease  firing,  305;  deposition  of, 
proposed  in  the  Assembly,  317; 
acts  like  a  disinterested  spectator, 
318 ;  taken  to  the  Convent  of  the 
Feuillants,  328;  transferred  to 
the  Temple,  334,  339;  his  quar- 
ters, 341;  gives  lessons  to  the 
Dauphin  in  the  Temple,  342 :  de- 
prived of  his  sword,  346;  hears 
the  proclamation  abolishing  roy- 
alty without  emotion,  388. 
Louvet,  the  author  of  Faublas,  54; 
editor  of  the  Sentinelle,  and 
Madame  Roland's  confidant,  89 
et  seq. 

Maillard,  president  of  the  tribunal 
at  the  Abbey,  365. 

Mailly,  Marshal  de,  the  chief  of  the 
two  hundred  noblemen  in  the 
Tuileries,  284. 

Malta,  Knights  of,  338. 

Mandat,  M.  de,  receives  from 
Petion  an  order  to  repel  force, 
280;-  goes  to  the  H6tel-de-Ville 
and  is  massacred,  281. 

Marat  incites  to  the  deposition  of 
the  king,  270;  on  Louis  XVI.,  384. 

Marie  Antoinette,  chivalric  devo- 
tion of  Count  de  Fersen  for,  15 ; 
her  correspondence  with  him,  16 ; 
places  absolute  confidence  in 
Gustavus  III.,  17;  letter  of,  to 
her  brother  Leopold,  25;  condi< 


INDEX. 


399 


tion  of,  in  1792,  73;  has  an  in- 
terview with  Dumouriez,  153; 
annoyed  and  insulted  by  the 
populace,  156,  157;  during  the 
invasion  of  the  Tuileries,  210  et 
seq.;  opposed  to  vigorous  meas- 
ures, 222;  her  distrust  of  Lafay- 
ette and  preference  for  Danton, 
237;  present  at  the  fete  of  the 
Federation,  251  et  seq. ;  her  alarm 
at  the  King's  peril,  253;  midnight 
alarms  of,  259 ;  insulted  by  fed- 
erates and  forced  to  keep  to  her 
apartments,  261;  her  estimate  of 
the  King's  character,  263;  on 
the  night  of  August  9,  276 ;  takes 

.  refuge  in  the  Assembly,  299; 
her  hopes  excited  by  the  sound 
of  artillery,  304;  in  the  box  of 
the  Logographe,  321 ;  in  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Feuillante,  332;  in 
the  Temple,  343 ;  faints  when  she 
hears  of  the  Princesse  de  Lam- 
balle's  death,  356. 

Marseillaise,  the,  Rouget  de  I'lsle's 
new  hymn,  269. 

Marseilles,  federates  of,  arrive  in 
Paris,  268;  the  scum  of  the  jails, 
269;  at  the  Tuileries,  290,  306 
et  seq.,  309. 

Masson,  M.  Frederic,  his  descrip- 
tion of  Dumouriez,  98. 

Ministry  appointed  by  the  King 
resign ;  new,  appointed,  176. 

Mirabeau  cautions  the  Queen 
against  Lafayette,  236;  and  Abbe 
Lamourette,  241. 

MoUeville,  Bertrand  de,  conversa- 
tion of,  with  the  King,  227 ; 
quoted,  273. 

Monge,  senator  of  the  Empire,  re- 
ply of,  to  Napoleon,  391, 

Moniteur,  the,  on  the  fSte  of 
Chateauvieux,  121. 

Mortimer-Ternaux,  M.,  quoted, 
279,  282 ;  his  Histoire  de  la  Ter- 
reur,  359. 

Mouchy,  Marshal  de,  his  devotion 
to  the  King  and  Queen,  220. 


Napoleon,  a  witness  of  the  inva- 
sion of  the  Tuileries,  209;  asserts 
the  King  could  have  gained  the 
victory,  286 ;  a  witness  of  the  at- 
tack of  the  Marseillais  on  the 
Tuileries,  310,  314  ;  visits  the 
Temple,  and  has  it  destroyed, 
348. 

National  Assembly,  place  of  meet- 
ing of,  5  ;  impeach  the  King's 
brothers  and  confiscate  the  Emi- 
gres' property,  26;  impeach  De 
Lessart,  30  ;  order  the  King's 
guard  disbanded,  143;  decrees  of 
as  to  the  clergy  and  an  army  be- 
fore Paris,  150 ;  Madame  Roland's 
letter  to  the  King,  read  to,  167; 
letter  of  Lafayette  read  in  the, 
178;  receive  a  deputation  from 
Marseilles,  183;  consider  the  ad- 
mission of  the  resurrectionists 
to  the  chamber,  187;  the  place 
of  meeting  of,  188;  deputation 
from,  to  the  King  during  the  in- 
vasion of  the  Tuileries,  208 ;  ques- 
tion the  Queen,  216  ;  maintain 
an  equivocal  attitude,  222;  the 
majority  of,  royalists  and  consti- 
tutionalists, 272  ;  affect  not  to 
recognize  the  King's  danger,  280 ; 
send  a  deputation  to  receive  the 
King  and  his  family,  296;  num- 
ber of  members  present  wl»c.  '.lie 
decree  of  deposition  was  voted, 
320 ;  terrorized  by  the  Commune, 
370;  royalty  abolished  and  the 
republic  proclaimed  by,  387. 

National  Guard,  at  the  Tuileries, 
196 ;  the  choice  troops  of,  broken 
up,  268 ;  royalist,  in  the  Tuileries, 
279,  288. 

Noblemen,  royalist,  fidelity  of,  to 
the  King,  278,  284 ;  fate  of, 
322. 

Orleans,  Duke  of,  and  the  Palais 
Royal,  4;  and  his  party  clamor 
for  the  deposition  of  the  King, 
270. 


400 


INDEX, 


Palais  Royal,  the,  in  1792,  4. 

Pan,  Mallet  du,  sent  to  Germany 
by  Louis  XVI.,  135. 

Paris,  in  1792,  1 ;  the  Archbishop 
of,  at  Versailles,  in  1774,  78; 
Commune  of,  how  organized,  176 ; 
a  hell  during  the  September  mas- 
sacres, 361. 

Petion,  address  of,  to  the  Assembly, 
30 ;  promotes  the  fete  of  Chateau- 
vieux,  115;  fate  of,  122  et  seq.; 
favors  the  insurrectionists,  184  ; 
his  insolent  address  to  the  King, 
224 ;  the  hero  of  the  fete  of  the 
Federation,  264  ;  presents  an 
address  to  the  Assembly  pray- 
ing for  the  King's  deposition, 
270 ;  signs  an  order  giving  M.  de 
Mandat  the  right  to  repel  force, 
280 ;  his  treachery  and  hypocrisy, 
282. 

Philipon,  the  father  of  Madame 
Roland,  47. 

Prisons  of  Paris,  the  September 
massacres  at,  363  et  seq. 

Prudhomme's  Revolutions  de  Paris 
quoted,  225. 

Quinet,  Edgar,  quoted,  360,  371 ;  on 
Louis  XVI.'s  magnanimity,  380, 
384;  quoted,  392,  394. 

Kaigecourt,  Madame  de,  letter  of, 
24. 

Ramond  defends  Lafayette  in  the 
Assembly,  235. 

Republic  proclaimed,  388. 

Revolution,  beginning  of  the  organ- 
ization of,  181. 

Revolutionists,  the,  in  the  Tuileries, 
199  ;  insolence  of,  to  the  King, 
200 ;  refuse  to  leave  the  Assembly, 
205;  their  barbarity  and  inde- 
cency, 213. 

Robespierre  in  the  Jacobin  Club,  6 ; 
cowardice  of,  271, 316 ;  his  defence 
of  the  Constitution,  385. 

Rochefoucauld,  Count  de  la,  de- 
scribes the   appearance   of  the 


royal  family  in  the  box  of  the 
Logographe,  321. 

Roederer,  remarks  of,  on  Lafay- 
ette, 238  ;  urges  the  King  to  seek 
shelter  with  the  Assembly,  291, 
294;  addresses  the  mob,  297; 
explains  to  the  Assembly  the 
cause  of  King's  taking  refuge 
with  them,  301;  blamed  for  his 
advice,  302. 

Roland  de  la  Platiere,  M.,  marries 
Mademoiselle  Philipon,  55;  de- 
puted to  the  Assembly,  63 ;  takes 
the  portfolio  of  the  Interior,  70; 
dominated  by  his  wife,  88  ;  his 
plebeian  dress  at  the  Council,  103 ; 
driven  by  his  wife  to  hostility 
against  the  King,  108  ;  his  fac- 
tion desire  to  destroy  the  King, 
160 ;  dismissed  from  the  Coun- 
cil, 165;  reinstated,  319;  arrest 
of,  determined,  374  ;  writes  a 
letter  to  the  Assembly  concern- 
ing the  massacres,  375;  continues 
minister,  376 ;  fate  of,  391. 

Roland,  Madame,  the  distinctive 
characteristics  of  the  century  re- 
sumed in  her,  46 ;  early  years  of, 
47  et  seq.;  married  to  Roland  de 
la  Platiere,  55  ;  strives  to  obtain 
a  patent  of  nobility  for  her  hus- 
band, 56 ;  letters  of,  to  Bosc,  57 ; 
her  description  of  herself,  61,  74 ; 
draws  up  her  husband's  reports, 
63;  her  infatuation  for  Buzot, 
64;  her  hatred  of  royalty,  65; 
established  in  Paris,  70 ;  and 
Marie  Antoinette,  74 ;  the  motive 
of  her  hatred  of  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, 76, 80;  describes  her  visit  to 
Versailles,  77,  79 ;  her  part  in  es- 
tablishing the  republican  regime 
in  France,  79,  107 ;  her  judgment 
of  Louis  XVI.,  81 ;  her  character 
contrasted  with  that  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  82;  her  arrogant  de- 
meanor, 86 ;  acts  for  her  husband 
in  public  affairs,  88;  her  inti- 
macy with  Louvet,  89  et  seq,; 


INDEX. 


401 


Lemontey's  picture  of  her,  91; 
and  Dumouriez,  94,  102;  creates 
discord  in  the  Council,  106;  de- 
cides to  get  rid  of  Dumouriez, 
159 ;  her  letter  to  the  King,  162 ; 
her  advice  ou  the  dismissal  of  the 
ministers,  165 ;  on  the  September 
massacres,  362 ;  feels  no  pity  for 
the  Queen,  372,  375;  her  horror 
at  the  murders,  376;  her  appre- 
hensions, 378;  reproaches  her 
friends  with  temporizing,  382; 
her  last  speech,  383. 
Rousseau,  imprisoned  in  the  Tem- 
ple, 339. 

Saint-Antoine,  Faubourg,  citizens 
of,  ask  permission  to  assemble  in 
arms,  182 ;  in  commotion,  184. 

Saint-Hurage,  the  rioter,  193. 

Salpetriere,  the,  butchery  at,  368. 

Santerre,  at  the  head  of  the  in- 
surrectionists on  June  20,  186; 
demands  admission  for  the  in- 
surrectionists to  the  Assembly, 
190;  violence  of,  at  the  Tuileries, 
197 ;  offers  to  protect  the  Queen, 
215;  forced  by  Westermann  to 
march  to  the  Tuileries,  286. 

September  massacres,  the,  359  et 
seq. 

Sergent,  M.,  207. 

Servan,  made  Minister  of  War,  160 ; 
proposes  the  formation  of  an 
army  around  Paris,  160  ;  dis- 
missed from  the  Council,  165;  his 
career  after  the  Revolution,  391. 

Stael,  Madame  de,  views  the  fete  of 
the  Federation,  her  observations, 
253 ;  invents  a  plan  of  escape  for 
the  King,  273;  quoted,  317,  327. 

Suderraania,  Duke  of,  brother  of 
Gustavus  III.,  practices  of,  35. 

Sutherland,  Lady,  sends  linen  for 
the  Dauphin  to  the  Convent  of  the 
Feuillants,  333. 

Swiss  regiment,   the,   go  to    the 


Tuileries,  274;  ill  provided  with 
ammunition,  277;  defend  the  Tui- 
leries, but  are  commanded  to  re- 
tire, 307 ;  sweep  the  Carrousel  of 
rioters,  310 ;  ordered  to  go  to  the 
King,  311 ;  surrender  their  arms, 
313 ;  imprisoned  in  the  church  of 
the  Feuillants,  313 ;  fate  of  the, 
321. 

Taine,  on  revolutionary  France,  389. 

Temple,  the,  the  royal  family  taken 
to,  336;  description  of,  337;  the 
Order  of  the,  337 ;  destroyed  by 
Napoleon,  349. 

Thiers,  quoted,  287. 

Thorwaldsen's  lion  at  Lucerne,  314. 

Tourzel,  Pauline  de,  in  peril  in  the 
Tuileries,  323. 

Tuileries,  the,  guard  of,  195;  the  in- 
vasion of,  198  et  seq. ;  the,  on  the 
night  of  August  9,  275  et  seq.; 
attacked  by  the  Marseillais,  306 
et  seq.;  rioters  in,  325;  on  fire, 
325. 

Vaublanc,  Count  de,  quoted,  133; 
anecdotes  of,  concerning  Louis 
XVI.,  139,  140,  256,  273,  282,  286, 
290,  303. 

Vergniaud,  180,  182;  speech  of, 
with  regard  to  the  admission  of 
the  insurrectionists  to  the  Assem- 
bly, 188;  violent  attack  of,  on 
the  King,  244 ;  as  president  of  the 
Assembly,  receives  Louis  XVL, 
300  ;  presents  the  decree  suspend- 
ing the  royal  power,  317. 

"Violet,  Queen,"  336. 

Voltaire,  imprisoned  in  the  Temple, 
339. 

Westermann  forces  Santerre  to 
march,  286;  leader  of  the  Mar- 
seillais, who  attacked  the  Tui- 
leries, 306,  308. 


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Arthur  Leon 

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Marie  Antoinette  and  the 

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downfall  of  royalty 

1894 

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