The Queen`s Confession

The Faubourgs on the March

During those first days back in the Tuileries I existed in a state of numbness. I would start up in my sleep imagining filthy hands on me, foul wine-sodden breath in my face. I lived again a thousand times the horror of that ride back to Paris. La Fayette had saved us from the fury of the mob with men such as the Due d’Auguillon and the Vicomte de Noailles who had never been friends of mine; but they had been disgusted by the tornado which was raging all about us.

Everywhere we looked there were guards. We were prisoners as we had not been before. They were determined that we should never have an opportunity of escaping again.

We heard that Provence and Marie Josephe had safely crossed the frontier. Their shabby carriage had got by whereas our luxurious berline had failed. I refused to remember that it was Axel’s berline which had delayed and betrayed us. He wanted the best for me, but fugitives of course should give up luxury for a chance of freedom.

I wept when I heard that Bouin6 had arrived at Varennes with his troops only half an hour after we left; and when he realised that we had gone he bad disbanded his troops, for there was no point in making war on the revolutionaries then. Half an hour between us and freedom!

Had we not stopped to gather flowers on the roadside, had we travelled more simply, we could have travelled at greater speed. Freedom was within our reach and we had lost it. Not through ill luck. I must be reasonable and see this. It was not in our stars but in ourselves that we had failed.

I was desperate during those long winter months. I even attempted to intrigue through Bamave, who had shown his admiration for me during that terrible journey in the berline. I wrote letters which were smuggled out to him in which I flattered him, telling him that his intelligence had so impressed me that I was asking for his cooperation. I told him that I was ready to compromise if it was necessary and that I believed in his good intentions. Would he be prepared to help me? Bamave was flattered and delighted, although naturally apprehensive. He showed my letters to some of his trusted friends and wrote to me that they were interested and would prefer to deal with me rather than the King.

I must, they told me, do all I could to bring my brothers in-law back to France and try to persuade my brother, the Emperor Leopold, to recognise the French Constitution. They drafted the letter which I was to send—and this I did, although I had no intention of submitting to the new Constitution and immediately wrote secretly to my brother to tell him in what circumstances I had written the first letter.

I was in fact involved in a dangerous and double game for which I was ill equipped, intellectually and emotionally. I was deceiving these men who were ready to be my friends, but I could not lightly give up what I believed to be my birthright. I must make some effort to regain what we had lost, since my husband would not do so. But bow I hated the deception! To lie and deceive was not one of my faults. I wrote to Axel:

“I cannot understand myself and have to ask myself again and again whether it is really I who am acting in this way. Yet what can I do?

It has become necessary to do these things and our position would be worse if I did not act. We can gain time in this way and time is what we need. What a joyful day it will be to me when I can tell the truth and show these men that I never intended to work with them. “

I continued to be very unhappy because of this role into which I had fallen.

Worse still, there was no news from Axel. Where was he? Why did he not get in touch? I heard that he was in Vienna trying to interest my brother in our cause, trying to urge him to send an army to France with whom our loyal soldiers could link up and so restore law and order—and the Monarchy—to our tortured country.

When I heard that Comte d’Esterhazy was going to Vienna I asked him to take a ring to the Comte de Fersen. It was engraved with three fleurs-delis, and inside, the inscription “Lache qui les abandon ne was engraved. I wrote to Esterhazy when I sent the ring. H you write to him,” I wrote, ‘tell him that many miles and many countries can never separate hearts. This ring is just his size. Ask him to wear it for me. I wore it for two days before wrapping it. Tell him it comes from me. I do not know where he is. It is torture to have no news and not even to know where the people one loves are living. “

No sooner had I sent that letter to Esterhazy, who I knew was my good friend and would do as I asked, than I was terrified that Axel would see it as a reproach and return to danger. I immediately wrote to him:

“I exist nothing more. How anxious I have been for you and all you must have suffered in having no news of us. Heaven grant that this reaches you…. On no account think of returning. It is known that it is you who helped us to get away, and all would be lost if you should show yourself. We are guarded and watched night and day…. Be at rest. Nothing will happen to me. Farewell. I shall not be able to write to you any more….”

But I had to write to him. I could not have gone on living during those dreary days if I had not. Soon I was writing again:

I can tell you that I love you and have only time for that. Do not be troubled about me. I am well. I long to know the same of you. Write to me in cipher by the post and address it to Monsieur de Browne and in a second envelope for Monsieur de Gougens. Tell me where I should address my letters so that I may be able to write to you, for I cannot live without that. Farewell, most loved and loving of men. I embrace you with my whole heart. “

I was deeply resentful of the manner in which we were treated. The doors of my apartments were barred at night, and the door of my room had to remain open. I felt reckless at times, resigned at others. But I continued in correspondence with Bamave.

At last there was news from Axel. He wanted to come to Paris and I was delighted at the prospect of seeing him, but at the same time terrified.

“It would endanger our happiness,” I wrote, ‘and you can truly believe I mean that, for I have the keenest desire to see you. “

I was staying in my rooms all day. I no longer cared to go out. I spent my time writing. My children were constantly with me. They provided my only Joy, my only reason for wanting to stay alive.

I wrote to Axel:

“They are the only happiness left to me. When I am most sad I take my little son in my arms and I hold him against my heart. That consoles me.”

The National Assembly had prepared its draft of a Constitution and had laid it before the King for his acceptance. To ask for it was a meaningless gesture. The King was their prisoner. He had no alternative but to agree.

“It is a moral death,” I said to him, ‘worse than bodily death, which frees us of our troubles. “

He agreed, knowing that his acceptance of the Constitution was a sacrifice of all he stood for.

Louis was obliged to attend the Assembly; I went to watch him make his speech and it filled me with indignation and sorrow to see that the Assembly remained seated while he made his oath.

When he returned to the Tuileries he was so dispirited that he sank into a chair and wept. I put my arms about him to comfort him and wept for him, for although I now believed that had he acted with resolve and determination we might have escaped this dire misfortune, I could not help remembering his kindness and tenderness and it occurred to me that it was his very goodness of heart which had added to our troubles. I wrote to Mercy:

“As regards the acceptance of the Constitution it is impossible that any thinking person can fail to see that whatever we may do we are not free. But it is essential that we should give these monsters who surround us no cause for suspicion. However things turn out, only the foreign powers can save us. We have lost the army; we have lost money; there exists within this realm no power to restrain the armed populace. The very chiefs of the Revolution are no longer listened to when they try to talk about order. Such is the deplorable position in which we find ourselves. Add to this that we have not a single friend, that all the world is betraying us; some because of hatred and others because of weakness and ambition. I myself am reduced to such a pitch that I have come to dread the days when we shall be given a semblance of freedom.

At least in view of the impotence to which we have been condemned, we have no reason to reproach ourselves. You will find my whole soul in this letter Later I wrote:

“Tribulation first makes one realise what one is. My blood courses through my sons veins and I hope that a day will come when he will show himself worthy to be the grandson of Maria Theresa.” The fact was, I was ashamed for having had to negotiate with Bamave. I was not clever. I had no wish to live other than in a straightforward manner. To Axel I wrote:

It would have been nobler to refuse to accept the Constitution, but refusal was impossible. Let me advise you that the scheme which has been adopted is the least undesirable of many. The follies of the emigres has forced us to this; and in accepting it it was necessary to leave no doubt that the acceptance was made in good faith. “

I was very unhappy in this. I believed that my mother would not have approved of the manner in which I had acted. But then she had never been in the position in which I now found myself. She had never ridden from Versailles to Paris, from Varennes to Paris, surrounded by a howling, bloodthirsty mob.

The result of the King’s acceptance of the Constitution was immediate.

The rigorous guard was removed from the Tuileries. I no longer had a guard outside my apartments; I was allowed to shut my bedroom door and sleep in peace.

We had accepted the revolution and were no longer reviled; when we went out I even heard people shout “Vive Ie Roi“ It was February, the height of the cold, cruel winter. I was alone in my bedroom on the ground floor when I heard a footstep. I started up in terror, for in spite of the changed attitude towards us, I could never be sure when one of those figures which played such a prominent part in my nightmares might appear in reality, bloodstained knife in hand to do to me what I had heard threatened so many times.

The door of my room was opened, and I stared, for I believed I was dreaming. It was impossible.

I recognised him at once in spite of his disguise. He could never deceive me. And for the moment I was only conscious of joy—sheer unadulterated joy—an emotion I had believed I should never feel again.

Axell’ I cried.

“It is not possible !’ He laughed and said: ” Can you not believe your own eyes? “

“But to come here …! Oh—it is dangerous. You must go at once.”

“A good welcome,” he said laughing, and embracing me in a’manner which told me he had no intention of leaving me.

I could only cling to him, for the moment not caring what had brought him, how he had come, only that he was here.

I was dazed. One cannot easily leap from the depths of despair to the heights of happiness. I told him this. I wept and I laughed and we clung together and for a time shut out the whole world of sorrow and terror. This was the power of our love.

Later I heard of his fantastic adventure. He had written: “I live only to serve you,” and he meant k.

He had procured a false passport, on which he had forged the signature of the King of Sweden, the bearer of which was supposed to be on a diplomatic visit to Lisbon. The passport was made out for his valet, who took the part of the gentleman on the mission to Lisbon while Axel was posing as his servant. The papers had not been closely examined and they had had no difficulty in reaching Paris. He was staying with a friend in Paris who was ready to take the risk of helping him.

“As soon as it was dark,” he said, “I came to the palace.

I still had the key and found the door unguarded so I came to you. “

“They know you helped us to escape. This is madness.” It was—a divine sort of madness; and I could not help but rejoice that he had come.

Axel stayed with me all that night and the next day. On the evening of that day I asked Louis to come to my apartment as an old friend wished to see him.

When Louis arrived Axel eagerly told him of plans he had made for another escape.

“We should learn by the mistakes of the last,” he said.

“This time we should succeed.”

Louis shook his head.

“It is impossible ” Perhaps we should try,” I suggested.

But I saw the stubborn look in my husband’s face.

“We can speak frankly,” he said.

“I am accused of weakness and irresolution, but as no one else has ever been in my position they cannot say how they would have acted in my place. I missed the right moment to leave, which was earlier than we did. That was the moment to act. Since then I have never found another. I have been deserted by everyone.”

“Not by the Comte de Fersen,” I reminded him.

He smiled sadly.

“That’s true. And I shall never forget what you have done for us. My friend, the National Guard is stationed round the chateau. It would be a hopeless endeavour, and just as the position was worsened by our first attempt, so would it be by yet another.”

Axel was still convinced that we could succeed; and the King at last explained his true reason for refusing the aid which was offered. He had given his word not to attempt to leave again.

I was exasperated, but as Axel said to me: “The King is an honest man.”

Honest, yes. But of what use was honesty when dealing with our enemies?

Still Axel was certain that he could persuade King Gustavus of Sweden to come to our aid. He would return at once to his native country and work for us there.

We parted and he left. I was desolate to say farewell, yet his visit had stimulated me to such an extent that I felt hope returning. Axel would never cease to work for us. When I thought of that, I could believe that one day all would be well.

How ill luck pursued us. Axel had not been long in Sweden, where he arrived without mishap, when news of the death of King Gustavus came to us.

He was thinking of us at the end, because the last words he spoke were: “My death will make the Jacobins in Paris rejoice.”

How right he was. And another avenue was closed to us.

We could only hope for help from Austria and Prussia now.

Madame Campan came back to me. I was very pleased to see her because I had always been fond of her and I liked her sound good sense. I remembered now how discreetly she had disapproved of the magnificent be rime which Axel had had made with such pride.

She was startled when she saw me. I saw her glance at my hair.

It has turned white, Madame Campan,” I said sadly.

It is still beautiful, Madame,” she answered. I showed her a ring I had had mounted with a lock of hair. I intended to send it to the Princesse de Lamballe, whom I had commanded to go to London. She had left reluctantly and I wanted her to know how it pleased me to think of her in safety. I had the words ” Bleached by sorrow inscribed on the ring. It would be a warning to her not to return, for she had written to me telling me that she could not bear to stay away from me and that she believed that if I were in peril so should she be.

”She was always a little stupid,” I said to Madame Campan, ‘but the kindest and most affectionate of souls. I rejoice that she is not here. “

My brother Leopold had died and his son Francis was now Emperor. He was twenty-four and I had never really known him; he showed little sympathy for my plight. He did not encourage those emigres who in his country were agitating against the revolutionaries of France; nor did he banish them.

The situation between France and Austria had become tense, and eventually Louis was prevailed upon to declare war. It seemed like a nightmare to me. I remembered how my mother had worked to foster the alliance between France and Austria—and now here they were at war.

I was not dismayed. I could not become any more unpopular than I already was. And if my countrymen beat the French, their first task would be to restore the Monarchy.

I was exultant. I wrote to Axel:

“God grant that vengeance will at length be taken for the provocations we have received from this country, Never have I been more proud than at this moment to have been born a German.”

I was foolish perhaps. In truth I had long forgotten that I was a German. I could scarcely speak the language. My husband was French; my children were French; and for years I had called this my country.

It was the French themselves who had refused to receive me. All I wanted was to go back to the old days; to be given another chance. I had teamed bitter lessons and I now had the sense to apply them. I wanted to be left in peace to bring up my son to be a good King of France; That was all I asked.

The Princesse de Lamballe returned to Paris. While I embraced her I chided her.

You were always a little fool,” I told her.

“Yes, I know,” she answered; and she laughed, and flung her arms about me and demanded to know how I thought she could be away far from me when she had to listen to all the terrible tales of what was happening in Paris. June had come again. It was a year since we had attempted co escape.

The summer weeks were the weeks of danger; then people congregated in the streets, in the Palais Royale; then it was easier to spread sedition.

Every effort seemed to be made to humiliate the King; he was asked to sanction two decrees ordaining the deportation of priests and a formation of a camp of twenty thousand men outside Paris. Louis would have given way but I urged him to apply the veto.

This enraged the revolutionaries and I was to regret it afterwards, but I could not help deploring my husband’s weakness.

The people had a new name for me: Madame Veto. They reminded themselves that I was the Austrian Woman and that they were at war with Austria. The members of the National Assembly now believed that they would never conquer their enemies abroad until they had first dealt with those at home. I was the enemy not the King.

Vergniaud, one of the leaders, was thundering warnings to the Assembly.

“From where I speak,” he declared, “I can see the dwelling place in which false counsellors lead astray and deceive the King who has given us the Constitution…. I see the windows of the palace where they are hatching counter revolutions and where they are contriving ways of sending us back to slavery. Let those who dwell in the afore mentioned palace realise that our Constitution guarantees inviolability to the King alone. Let them know that our laws will run there without distinction among the guilty, and that there is not any head proved to be criminal which can hope to escaping passing beneath the axe.”

This was a direct attack on me. I was accustomed to them from the rabble; it was different when they came from the leaders of the revolution.

It was the 20th of June, the anniversary of our flight, when the mob gathered about the Tuileries. They were shouting: “Down with the veto.

The nation for ever. “

From the window I saw them their filthy red caps on their heads, their knives and cudgels in their hands. These were the sons-culottes . the bloodthirsty mob, and they were already in the Palace. My first thought was for the children. I ran upstairs, where they were with Madame de Tourzel and the Princesse de Lamballe.

“They have the King I’ said the Princesse.

“I must go to him!” I cried, “If he is in danger, I must be there.” I turned to Madame de Tourzel.

“Guard the children….”

But one of the guards had come in and he barred the way. He said, “Madame, they are calling for you. It would madden them to see you.

Stay here. Stay with the Dauphin and the Princesse. My son was clutching at my skirts.

“Maman, stay with us. Stay with us he cried. And the guard bade me stand by the wall with my children and Madame de Tourzel and the Princesse de Lamballe and some of the other women who had come running to join us. He put a table before us as a sort of barrier.

Elisabeth said: “They have come for you. I will go. They will think I am you … and that will give you a chance to get away with the children.”

I protested and the guards would not let her go. There is nothing to be done, Madame, but stay here. The mob is all over the Palace. They are surrounding it. There is no way out. To move from here would endanger yourself and do no good to anyone. “

She reluctantly came back to stand behind the table. The National Guard, I realised, had come to protect us. One of them put a red cap on my head and another on the Dauphin which was so large that it covered his face.

We could hear the shouts coming from the room in which they held the King.

I was struck with terror wondering what was happening to my husband. I learned later how once more he won their respect. It is difficult to understand how a man who could not make up his mind, who was laughed at for a fool, could so quell a mob determined to kill him.

It was that extraordinary calm, that ability to look death in the face with indifference. They were never allowed to see my fear, but I showed it in my contempt for them. Louis never lost his tenderness for them. However vile they were, they were his children. His was the true courage.

The guards called out that it was their duty to defend the King with their lives and they intended to do their duty.

But what were a few guards against such a mob?

“A bos Ie veto !’ they cried.

But the guards reminded them that the King’s person should not be harmed. It was in the Constitution.

I cannot discuss the veto with you,” said Louis calmly, ‘though I shall do what the Constitution demands.”

One of the mob strode forward, his knife in his hand.

“Have no fear. Sire,” said one of the guards.

“We will defend you with our lives.”

The King smiled gently.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he said.

“Then you will perceive whether I am afraid or not.”

The man did so, and cried that he was astonished that any man could be so calm at such a time.

None of them could doubt that the King’s pulse was absolutely normal, and they could not fail to be astonished.

Disconcerted in the face of such extraordinary courage they did not know what to do, so one of them held out his red cap on the edge of his pike, and with a natural gesture, which could only have been inspired, Louis took it and put it on his head.

The mob was silent for a moment. Then they cried:

“Vive le Roi!“ The danger was over for the King.

But they bad never felt much rancour against the King. They rushed from the room and came to the Council Chamber, where I stood behind the table holding my children close to me.

A group of guards immediately placed themselves about the table.

They stared at me.

“That’s the one. That’s the Austrian Woman.”

The Dauphin was whimpering: the red cap was suffocating him. One of the guards saw my look and took the cap off the child’s head. The women protested but the soldier cried:

“Would you suffocate a harmless child?”

And the women for they were mostly women were ashamed and did not answer. I felt relieved then. I could feel my son clutching my skirt, hiding his face against me to shut out the horror of all this.

It was so hot; the crowded room was stifling. oh God,” I prayed.

“Let death, come quickly.”

I would welcome it, for if we all died together there could be no more suffering like this.

The soldiers had unsheathed their bayonets; the mob eyed them warily; but they were shouting obscenities about me; and I prayed again: “Oh God, close my children’s ears.” I could only hope that they did not understand.

A man who was carrying a toy gibbet from which hung a female doll approached the table. He chanted: “Antoinette i la lanterne.”

I held my head high and pretended not to see him.

One woman tried to spit at me.

“Whore !’ she cried.

“Vile woman.”

My daughter moved closer to me as though to protect me from this creature. My son clung tighter.

I looked into the woman’s face and said: “Have I ever done you any harm?”

“You have brought misery to the nation.”

Tou have been told so, but you have been deceived. As the wife of the King of France and the mother of the Dauphin I am a Frenchwoman. I shall never see my own country again. I can be happy or unhappy only in France. I was happy when you loved me. “

She was silent and I saw her lips moving; there were tears in her eyes.

I was aware, too, of the stillness about us. Everyone was quiet, listening to me as I spoke.

The woman looked at my child and lifted her eyes to me and said: “I ask pardon, Madame, I did not know you. But I see you are a good woman.”

Then she turned away weeping.

That incident gave me courage. The people must be made aware that they had been fed on lies, for when they came face to face with me they knew they were false.

Another woman said: “She’s only a woman … with children.”

That provoked ribald comments; but something had happened. The woman’s tears had driven murder out of the room. They wanted to get away.

We stood behind the table for a long time and it was eight o’clock before the guards cleared the palace and we made our way over the debris of broken doors and furniture to our apartments.

I guessed that Axel would hear of this new assault and be anxious, so I sat down to write to him at once.

“I am still alive, though by a miracle. The twentieth was a terrible ordeal. But do not be anxious about me. Have faith in my courage.”

Now we were living in a damaged palace and I felt we were on the edge of disaster. As the weather grew hotter I was aware of the rising tension. The assault on the Tuileries would not be an isolated attack, I was sure of that.

I ordered Madame Campan to have a padded under-waistcoat made for the King so that if he should be attacked at any time there might be time for the guards to rescue him. It was made of fifteen folds of Italian taffeta—and comprised a waistcoat and a wide belt. I had had it tested; it resisted ordinary dagger thrust, and even shots fired at it were turned off.

I was afraid that someone would discover it and I wore it myself for three days before I had an opportunity of getting the King to try it on. I was in bed when he did so and I heard him whisper something to Madame Campan. It fitted him and he wore it, and when he had gone I asked Campan what he had said.

She was reluctant, but I said: “You had better tell me. You should understand that it is as well for me to know everything.”

She answered: “His Majesty said: ” It is only to satisfy the Queen that submit to this inconvenience. They will not assassinate me. Their schemes have changed. They will put me to death another way”.”

“I think he is right, Madame Campan,” I said. lie has told me that he believes that what is happening here is an imitation of what once happened in England. The English cut off the head of their King Charles I. I fear they will bring him to trial But I am a foreigner, my dear Madame Campan, not one of them. Perhaps they will have less scruples where I am concerned. They will very likely assassinate me.

If it were not for the children . I should not care. But the children, my dear Campan, what will become of them? “

Dear Campan was too full of sense to deny what I said. She was so practical that she immediately set about making me a corselet similar to the King’s waistcoat.

I thanked her but I would not wear it.

“If they kill me, Madame Campan, it will be fortunate for me. It will at least deliver me from this painful existence. Only the children worry me. But there are you and kind Tourzel and I do not believe that even those people would be cruel to little children. I remember how moved that woman was. It was because of the children. No, even they would not harm them. So … when they kill me, do not mourn for me.

Remember I shall go to a happier life than I suffer here. “

Madame Campan was alarmed. All during that sultry July she refused to go to bed. She would sit in my apartment dozing, ready to leap up at the first sound. I believe she saved my life on one occasion.

It was one o’clock in the morning when I started out of a doze to find Madame Campan bending over me.

“Madame !’ she whispered.

“Listen. There is someone creeping along the corridor.”

I sat up in bed startled. The corridor passed along the whole line of my apartments and was locked at each end.

Madame Campan dashed into the anteroom where the valet de chamber was sleeping. He too had heard the foot steps and was ready to rush out. In a few seconds Madame Campan and I heard the sounds of scuffling.

“Oh, Campan, Campan I’ I said, and I put my arms about the dear faithful creature.

“What should I do without friends such as you?

Insults by day and assassins by night. Where will it end? “

Tou have good servants, Madame,” she said quietly.

And it was true, for the valet de chambre at that moment came into the bedroom dragging a man with him.

“I know the wretch, Madame,” he said.

“He is a servant of the King’s toilette. He admits taking the key from His Majesty’s pocket when the King was in bed.”

He was a small man and the valet de chambre was both tall and strong, and for this I bad to be grateful otherwise it would have been the end of me that night. The miserable wretch no doubt thought to earn the praise of the mob for doing something which they were constantly screaming should be done.

I will lock him up, Madame,” said the valet de chambre.

“No,” I said.

“Let him go. Open the door for him and send him away from the palace. He came to murder me, and if he succeeded the people would be carrying him about in triumph tomorrow.”

The valet obeyed me, and when he returned I thanked him and told him that I was grieved that he should be exposed to danger on my account.

To this he replied that be feared nothing and that he had a pair of very excellent pistols which he carried always with him for no other purpose but to defend me.

Such incidents always moved me deeply, and I said to Madame Campan as we returned to my bedroom that the goodness of people such as herself and the valet would never have been appreciated by me but for the fact that these terrible times brought it home to me.

She was touched, but she was already making plans to have all the locks changed the next day, and she saw that the King’s were too.

Now the great Terror was upon us. It was as though a new race of men had filtered into the capital—small, very dark, lithe, fierce and bloodthirsty—the men of the south, the men of Marseilles.

With them they brought the song which had been composed by Rouget de Lisle, one of their officers. We were soon to hear it sung all over Paris, and it was called the “Marseillaise. Bloodthirsty words set to a rousing tune—it could not fail to win popularity. It replaced die unrilnow-favourite ” Ca ira’ and every time I heard it it made me shiver. It haunted me. I would fancy I heard it when during the night I woke from an uneasy doze, for I was scarcely sleeping during these nights.

“Allans, enfants de la Patrie, Le your de gloire est arrive.

Contre nous, de la tyrannic, Le couteau sanglant est leve, Le couteau sanglant est leve.

Entendes-vous, clans les camp agnes Mugir ces feroces soldats.

Us viennent jusque clans vos bras Egorger vos fils, vos comp agnes

Aux comes, dtoyens!

Formes vos bataillons, , Marchons, marcfwnst Qu’un sang impur Abreuve nos siltons* The gardens outside the apartments were always crowded. People looked in at the windows. At any moment one little spark would set alight the conflagration. How did we know from one hour to another what atrocities would be committed? Hawkers called their wares under my window.

“La Vie Scandaleuse de Mane Antoinette’ they shrieked. They sold figures representing me in various indecent positions with men and women.

“Why should I want to live?” I asked Madame Campan.

“Why should these precautions be taken to save a life which is not worth having?”

I wrote to Axel of the terror of our lives. I said that unless our friends issued a manifesto to the effect that Paris would be attacked if we were banned, we should very soon be murdered.

Axel, I knew, was doing everything possible. No one ever worked more indefatigably in any cause.

If only the King had had half Axel’s energy. I tried to rouse him to action. Outside our windows the guards were drawn up. If he showed them he was a leader they would respect him-I had seen how even the most crude of the revolutionaries could be overawed by a little royal dignity. I begged him to go to the guards to make some show of reviewing them.

He nodded. I was right, he was sure. He went out and it was heartbreaking to see him ambling between the lines of soldiers. He had grown so fat and unwieldy now that he , was never allowed to hunt.

I trust you,” he told them. I have every confidence in my guard.”

I heard the snigger. I saw one man break from the ranks and walk behind him imitating his ponderous walk. Dignity was what was needed.

I was a fool to nave expected Louis to show that.

I was relieved when he came in. I looked away, for I did not wish to see the humiliation on his face.

“La Fayette will save us from the fanatics,” he said heavily.

“You should not despair.”

I wonder,” I retorted bitterly, who will save us from Monsieur de La Fayette.”

The climax arrived when the Duke of Brunswick issued the Manifesto at Coblenz. Military force would be used on Paris if the least violence or outrage was committed against the King and the Queen.

It was the signal for which they had been waiting. The agitators were working harder than ever. All over Paris men were marching in groups—the sons-culottes and the ragged men of the south; they sang as they went:

“Allow enfants de la Patrie …”

They were saying that we were preparing a counterrevolution at the Tuileries.

On the tenth of August the faubourgs were on the march Hi and their objective was the Tuileries.

id A We were aware of the rising storm. All through the night of the ninth and the early morning of the tenth I had not cc taken off my clothes. I had wandered through the corridors M accompanied by Madame Campan and the Princesse de Lamballe. The King was sleeping, though fully dressed. M The tocsins had started to ring all over the city and Elisa-n beth came to join us.

w Together we watched the dawn come. That was about four o’clock, and the sky was blood-red. I said to her: “Paris must have seen something like this at the Massacre of the Saint Bartholomew.” t She took my hand and clung to it.

“We will keep together.”

I replied: “If my time should come and you survive t me …” < She nodded.

“The children, of course. They shall be as my own.”

‘ The silence occasioned by the cessation of the bells seemed even more alarming than they had been. The Marquis de Mandant, Commander of the National Guard, who had many times saved us from death, received a summons to the Hotel de Ville. We watched him go with misgivings, and when shortly afterwards a messenger arrived at the Tuileries to tell us that he had been brutally murdered on his way to the Hotel de Ville and his body thrown into the Seine, I knew that disaster was very close.

The Attorney-General of Paris came riding in haste. He asked for the King. Louis arose from his bed, his clothes awry, his wig flattened, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“The faubourgs are on the march,” said the Attorney-General.

“They are coming to the Palace. And their intention is massacre.”

The King declared his belief in the National Guard. Oh God, I thought, his sentimentality will get us all murdered! The Guard was all about the palace, but I bad seen the sullen looks on some faces; I remembered how they had sneered at Louis when he had made an attempt to review them, I remembered the man who had broken the line and mocked him from behind.

“All Paris is on the march,” warned the Attorney-General.

“Your Majesties’ only safe place is in the National Assembly. We must take you there and there is not a minute to be lost. Actions would not help us against so many. You see that resistance is impossible.”

Then let us go,” said the King.

“Call the household.”

“Only you and your family. Sire.”

“But we cannot abandon all the brave people who have been with us here,” I protested.

“Should we leave them to the fury of the mob?”

“Madame, if you oppose this move, you will be responsible for the deaths of the King and your children.”

What could I do? I thought of dear Campan, Lamballe, Tourzel. all those who were almost as dear to me as my own family.

But I saw that I could do nothing, and the Dauphin was beside me.

We left the palace. Already some of the people were looking at us through the railings and others had come into the grounds, but they made no attempt to stop us. The leaves were thick on the ground although it was only August. The Dauphin kicked through them almost joyously. Poor child, he was so accustomed to alarms like this that he found them part of his life and as long as we were together he seemed indifferent to them. That was something to rejoice about. In the distance I could hear the shouts and screams. The mob was very close.

I could hear raucous “Allans enfants de la Patrie …”

The King said calmly. The leaves have fallen early this year As we approached the Assembly Hall a tall man picked up the Dauphin in his arms. I screamed in terror, but he looked at me kindly and said:

“Have no fear, Madame. I mean him no harm. But there is not a minute to be lost.” I could not take my eyes from my child. I was terrified, but the Dauphin was smiling and saying something in his precocious way to his captor.

And as we came to the Assembly Hall my son was given back to me. I thanked the man and grasped the boy’s hand so fiercely that he reminded me I was hurting him.

But we had reached the Assembly Hall, and there we were placed in the reporter’s box while the President declared that the Assembly had sworn to stand by the Constitution and that they would protect the King.

During the walk from the Tuileries my watch and my purse had been stolen. I laughed at myself for the momentary concern I felt for these worthless objects. For in the Assembly Hall I could hear the shouts of the mob as they reached the Tuileries, and I wondered what was happening to those faithful friends. I thought in particular of the Princesse de Lamballe who might have been safe in England but who had come back for love of me.

I wept silently and I wondered what would happen next, for we could not return to the ruin which those people would have made of the Tuileries.

But what did it matter? Why fight to preserve an existence which was not worth the effort?