In the beginning of the spring of 1791, the King, tired of remaining at
the Tuileries, wished to return to St. Cloud. His whole household had
already gone, and his dinner was prepared there. He got into his carriage
at one; the guard mutinied, shut the gates, and declared they would not
let him pass. This event certainly proceeded from some suspicion of a
plan to escape. Two persons who drew near the King's carriage were very
ill treated. My father-in-law was violently laid hold of by the guards,
who took his sword from him. The King and his family were obliged to
alight and return to their apartments.
They did not much regret this outrage in their hearts; they saw in it a
justification, even in the eyes of the people, of their intention to leave
Paris.
So early as the month of March in the same year, the Queen began to busy
herself in preparing for her departure. I spent that month with her, and
executed a great number of secret orders which she gave me respecting the
intended event. It was with uneasiness that I saw her occupied with cares
which seemed to me useless, and even dangerous, and I remarked to her that
the Queen of France would find linen and gowns everywhere. My observations
were made in vain; she determined to have a complete wardrobe with her at
Brussels, as well for her children as herself. I went out alone and almost
disguised to purchase the articles necessary and have them made up.
I ordered six chemises at the shop of one seamstress, six at that of
another, gowns, combing cloths, etc. My sister had a complete set of
clothes made for Madame, by the measure of her eldest daughter, and I
ordered clothes for the Dauphin from those of my son. I filled a trunk
with these things, and addressed them, by the Queen's orders, to one of
her women, my aunt, Madame Cardon,--a widow living at Arras, by virtue of
an unlimited leave of absence,--in order that she might be ready to start
for Brussels, or any other place, as soon as she should be directed to do
so. This lady had landed property in Austrian Flanders, and could at any
time quit Arras unobserved.
The Queen was to take only her first woman in attendance with her from
Paris. She apprised me that if I should not be on duty at the moment of
departure, she would make arrangements for my joining her. She determined
also to take her travelling dressing-case. She consulted me on her idea
of sending it off, under pretence of making a present of it to the
Archduchess Christina, Gouvernante of the Netherlands. I ventured to
oppose this plan strongly, and observed that, amidst so many people who
watched her slightest actions, there would be found a sufficient number
sharp-sighted enough to discover that it was only a pretext for sending
away the property in question before her own departure; she persisted in
her intention, and all I could arrange was that the dressing-case should
not be removed from her apartment, and that M. de charge d'afaires from
the Court of Vienna during the absence of the Comte de Mercy, should come
and ask her, at her toilet, before all her people, to order one exactly
like her own for Madame the Gouvernante of the Netherlands. The Queen,
therefore, commanded me before the charge d'affaires to order the article
in question. This occasioned only an expense of five hundred louis, and
appeared calculated to lull suspicion completely.
About the middle of May, 1791, a month after the Queen had ordered me to
bespeak the dressing-case, she asked me whether it would soon be finished.
I sent for the ivory-turner who had it in hand. He could not complete it
for six weeks. I informed the Queen of this, and she told me she should
not be able to wait for it, as she was to set out in the course of June.
She added that, as she had ordered her sister's dressing-case in the
presence of all her attendants, she had taken a sufficient precaution,
especially by saying that her sister was out of patience at not receiving
it, and that therefore her own must be emptied and cleaned, and taken to
the charge d'affaires, who would send it off. I executed this order
without any, appearance of mystery. I desired the wardrobe woman to take
out of the dressing-case all that it contained, because that intended for
the Archduchess could not be finished for some time; and to take great
care to leave no remains of the perfumes which might not suit that
Princess.
The woman in question executed her commission punctually; but, on the
evening of that very day, the 15th of May, 1791, she informed M. Bailly,
the Mayor of Paris, that preparations were making at the Queen's residence
for a departure; and that the dressing-case was already sent off, under
pretence of its being presented to the Archduchess Christina.
[After the return from Varennes M. Bailly put this woman's deposition into
the Queen's hands.--MADAME CAMPAN.]
It was necessary, likewise, to send off all the diamonds belonging to the
Queen. Her Majesty shut herself up with me in a closet in the entresol,
looking into the garden of the Tuileries, and we packed all the diamonds,
rubies, and pearls she possessed in a small chest. The cases containing
these ornaments, being altogether of considerable bulk, had been
deposited, ever since the 6th of October, 1789, with the valet de chambre
who had the care of the Queen's jewels. That faithful servant, himself
detecting the use that was to be made of the valuables, destroyed all the
boxes, which were, as usual, covered with red morocco, marked with the
cipher and arms of France. It would have been impossible for him to hide
them from the eyes of the popular inquisitors during the domiciliary
visits in January, 1793, and the discovery might have formed a ground of
accusation against the Queen.
I had but a few articles to place in the box when the Queen was compelled
to desist from packing it, being obliged to go down to cards, which began
at seven precisely. She therefore desired me to leave all the diamonds
upon the sofa, persuaded that, as she took the key of her closet herself,
and there was a sentinel under the window, no danger was to be apprehended
for that night, and she reckoned upon returning very early next day to
finish the work.
The same woman who had given information of the sending away of the
dressing-case was also deputed by the Queen to take care of her more
private rooms. No other servant was permitted to enter them; she renewed
the flowers, swept the carpets, etc. The Queen received back the key,
when the woman had finished putting them in order, from her own hands;
but, desirous of doing her duty well, and sometimes having the key in her
possession for a few minutes only, she had probably on that account
ordered one without the Queen's knowledge. It is impossible not to
believe this, since the despatch of the diamonds was the subject of a
second accusation which the Queen heard of after the return from Varennes.
She made a formal declaration that her Majesty, with the assistance of
Madame Campan, had packed up all her jewelry some time before the
departure; that she was certain of it, as she had found the diamonds, and
the cotton which served to wrap them, scattered upon the sofa in the
Queen's closet in the 'entresol'; and most assuredly she could only have
seen these preparations in the interval between seven in the evening and
seven in the morning. The Queen having met me next day at the time
appointed, the box was handed over to Leonard, her Majesty's
hairdresser,--[This unfortunate man, after having emigrated for some time,
returned to France, and perished upon the scaffold.--NOTE BY EDITOR]--who
left the country with the Duc de Choiseul. The box remained a long time
at Brussels, and at length got into the hands of Madame la Duchesse
d'Angouleme, being delivered to her by the Emperor on her arrival at
Vienna.
In order not to leave out any of the Queen's diamonds, I requested the
first tirewoman to give me the body of the full dress, and all the
assortment which served for the stomacher of the full dress on days of
state, articles which always remained at the wardrobe.
The superintendent and the dame d'honneur being absent, the first
tirewoman required me to sign a receipt, the terms of which she dictated,
and which acquitted her of all responsibility for these diamonds. She had
the prudence to burn this document on the 10th of August, 1792.--[The date
of the sack of the Tuileries and slaughter of the Swiss Guard]--The Queen
having determined, upon the arrest at Varennes, not to have her diamonds
brought back to France, was often anxious about them during the year which
elapsed between that period and the 10th of August, and dreaded above all
things that such a secret should be discovered.
In consequence of a decree of the Assembly, which deprived the King of the
custody of the Crown diamonds, the Queen had at this time already given up
those which she generally used.
She preferred the twelve brilliants called Hazarins, from the name of the
Cardinal who had enriched the treasury with them, a few rose-cut diamonds,
and the Sanci. She determined to deliver, with her own hands, the box
containing them to the commissioner nominated by the National Assembly to
place them with the Crown diamonds. After giving them to him, she offered
him a row of pearls of great beauty, saying to him that it had been
brought into France by Anne of Austria; that it was invaluable, on account
of its rarity; that, having been appropriated by that Princess to the use
of the Queens and Dauphinesses, Louis XV. had placed it in her hands on
her arrival in France; but that she considered it national property.
"That is an open question, Madame," said the commissary. "Monsieur,"
replied the Queen, "it is one for me to decide, and is now settled."
My father-in-law, who was dying of the grief he felt for the misfortunes
of his master and mistress, strongly interested and occupied the thoughts
of the Queen. He had been saved from the fury of the populace in the
courtyard of the Tuileries.
On the day on which the King was compelled by an insurrection to give up a
journey to St. Cloud, her Majesty looked upon this trusty servant as
inevitably lost, if, on going away, she should leave him in the apartment
he occupied in the Tuileries. Prompted by her apprehensions, she ordered
M. Vicq-d'Azyr, her physician, to recommend him the waters of Mont d'Or in
Auvergne, and to persuade him to set off at the latter end of May. At the
moment of my going away the Queen assured me that the grand project would
be executed between the 15th and the 20th of June; that as it was not my
month to be on duty, Madame Thibaut would take the journey; but that she
had many directions to give me before I went. She then desired me to
write to my aunt, Madame Cardon, who was by that time in possession of the
clothes which I had ordered, that as soon as she should receive a letter
from M. Augur, the date of which should be accompanied with a B, an L, or
an M, she was to proceed with her property to Brussels, Luxembourg, or
Montmedy. She desired me to explain the meaning of these three letters
clearly to my sister, and to leave them with her in writing, in order that
at the moment of my going away she might be able to take my place in
writing to Arras.
The Queen had a more delicate commission for me; it was to select from
among my acquaintance a prudent person of obscure rank, wholly devoted to
the interests of the Court, who would be willing to receive a portfolio
which she was to give up only to me, or some one furnished with a note
from the Queen. She added that she would not travel with this portfolio,
and that it was of the utmost importance that my opinion of the fidelity
of the person to whom it was to be entrusted should be well founded. I
proposed to her Madame Vallayer Coster, a painter of the Academy, and an
amiable and worthy artist, whom I had known from my infancy. She lived in
the galleries of the Louvre. The choice seemed a good one. The Queen
remembered that she had made her marriage possible by giving her a place
in the financial offices, and added that gratitude ought sometimes to be
reckoned on. She then pointed out to me the valet belonging to her
toilet, whom I was to take with me, to show him the residence of Madame
Coster, so that he might not mistake it when he should take the portfolio
to her. The day before her departure the Queen particularly recommended
me to proceed to Lyons and the frontiers as soon as she should have
started. She advised me to take with me a confidential person, fit to
remain with M. Campan when I should leave him, and assured me that she
would give orders to M. ------ to set off as soon as she should be known
to be at the frontiers in order to protect me in going out. She
condescended to add that, having a long journey to make in foreign
countries, she determined to give me three hundred louis.
I bathed the Queen's hands with tears at the moment of this sorrowful
separation; and, having money at my disposal, I declined accepting her
gold. I did not dread the road I had to travel in order to rejoin her;
all my apprehension was that by treachery or miscalculation a scheme, the
safety of which was not sufficiently clear to me, should fail. I could
answer for all those who belonged to the service immediately about the
Queen's person, and I was right; but her wardrobe woman gave me
well-founded reason for alarm. I mentioned to the Queen many
revolutionary remarks which this woman had made to me a few days before.
Her office was directly under the control of the first femme de chambre,
yet she had refused to obey the directions I gave her, talking insolently
to me about "hierarchy overturned, equality among men," of course more
especially among persons holding offices at Court; and this jargon, at
that time in the mouths of all the partisans of the Revolution, was
terminated by an observation which frightened me. "You know many
important secrets, madame," said this woman to me, "and I have guessed
quite as many. I am not a fool; I see all that is going forward here in
consequence of the bad advice given to the King and Queen; I could
frustrate it all if I chose." This argument, in which I had been promptly
silenced, left me pale and trembling. Unfortunately, as I began my
narrative to the Queen with particulars of this woman's refusal to obey
me,--and sovereigns are all their lives importuned with complaints upon
the rights of places,--she believed that my own dissatisfaction had much
to do with the step I was taking; and she did not sufficiently fear the
woman. Her office, although a very inferior one, brought her in nearly
fifteen thousand francs a year. Still young, tolerably handsome, with
comfortable apartments in the entresols of the Tuileries, she saw a great
deal of company, and in the evening had assemblies, consisting of deputies
of the revolutionary party. M. de Gouvion, major-general of the National
Guard, passed almost every day with her; and it is to be presumed that she
had long worked for the party in opposition to the Court. The Queen asked
her for the key of a door which led to the principal vestibule of the
Tuileries, telling her she wished to have a similar one, that she might
not be under the necessity of going out through the pavilion of Flora. M.
de Gouvion and M. de La Fayette would, of course, be apprised of this
circumstance, and well-informed persons have assured me that on the very
night of the Queen's departure this wretched woman had a spy with her, who
saw the royal family set off.
As soon as I had executed all the Queen's orders, on the 30th of May,
1791, I set out for Auvergne, and was settled in the gloomy narrow valley
of Mont d'Or, when, about four in the afternoon of the 25th of June, I
heard the beat of a drum to call the inhabitants of the hamlet together.
When it had ceased I heard a hairdresser from Bresse proclaim in the
provincial dialect of Auvergne: "The King and Queen were taking flight in
order to ruin France, but I come to tell you that they are stopped, and
are well guarded by a hundred thousand men under arms." I still ventured
to hope that he was repeating only a false report, but he went on: "The
Queen," with her well-known haughtiness, lifted up the veil which covered
her face, and said to the citizens who were upbraiding the King, "Well,
since you recognise your sovereign, respect him." Upon hearing these
expressions, which the Jacobin club of Clermont could not have invented, I
exclaimed, "The news is true!"
I immediately learnt that, a courier being come from Paris to Clermont,
the 'procureur' of the commune had sent off messengers to the chief places
of the canton; these again sent couriers to the districts, and the
districts in like manner informed the villages and hamlets which they
contained. It was through this ramification, arising from the
establishment of clubs, that the afflicting intelligence of the misfortune
of my sovereigns reached me in the wildest part of France, and in the
midst of the snows by which we were environed.
On the 28th I received a note written in a hand which I recognised as that
of M. Diet,--[This officer was slain in the Queen's chamber on the 10th of
August]--usher of the Queen's chamber, but dictated by her Majesty. It
contained these words: "I am this moment arrived; I have just got into my
bath; I and my family exist, that is all. I have suffered much. Do not
return to Paris until I desire you. Take good care of my poor Campan,
soothe his sorrow. Look for happier times." This note was for greater
safety addressed to my father-in-law's valet-de-chambre. What were my
feelings on perceiving that after the most distressing crisis we were
among the first objects of the kindness of that unfortunate Princess!
M. Campan having been unable to benefit by the waters of Mont d'Or, and
the first popular effervescence having subsided, I thought I might return
to Clermont. The committee of surveillance, or that of general safety,
had resolved to arrest me there; but the Abbe Louis, formerly a
parliamentary counsellor, and then a member of the Constituent Assembly,
was kind enough to affirm that I was in Auvergne solely for the purpose of
attending my father-in-law, who was extremely ill. The precautions
relative to my absence from Paris were limited to placing us under the
surveillance of the 'procureur' of the commune, who was at the same time
president of the Jacobin club; but he was also a physician of repute, and
without having any doubt that he had received secret orders relative to
me, I thought it would favour the chances of our safety if I selected him
to attend my patient. I paid him according to the rate given to the best
Paris physicians, and I requested him to visit us every morning and every
evening. I took the precaution to subscribe to no other newspaper than
the Moniteur. Doctor Monestier (for that was the physician's name)
frequently took upon himself to read it to us. Whenever he thought proper
to speak of the King and Queen in the insulting and brutal terms at that
time unfortunately adopted throughout France, I used to stop him and say,
coolly, "Monsieur, you are here in company with the servants of Louis XVI.
and Marie Antoinette. Whatever may be the wrongs with which the nation
believes it has to reproach them, our principles forbid our losing sight
of the respect due to them from us." Notwithstanding that he was an
inveterate patriot, he felt the force of this remark, and even procured
the revocation of a second order for our arrest, becoming responsible for
us to the committee of the Assembly, and to the Jacobin society.
The two chief women about the Dauphin, who had accompanied the Queen to
Varennes, Diet, her usher, and Camot, her garcon de toilette,--the women
on account of the journey, and the men in consequence of the denunciation
of the woman belonging to the wardrobe,--were sent to the prisons of the
Abbaye. After my departure the garcon de toilette whom I had taken to
Madame Vallayer Coster's was sent there with the portfolio she had agreed
to receive. This commission could not escape the detestable spy upon the
Queen. She gave information that a portfolio had been carried out on the
evening of the departure, adding that the King had placed it upon the
Queen's easy-chair, that the garcon de toilette wrapped it up in a napkin
and took it under his arm, and that she did not know where he had carried
it. The man, who was remarkable for his fidelity, underwent three
examinations without making the slightest disclosure. M. Diet, a man of
good family, a servant on whom the Queen placed particular reliance,
likewise experienced the severest treatment. At length, after a lapse of
three weeks, the Queen succeeded in obtaining the release of her servants.
The Queen, about the 15th of August, had me informed by letter that I
might come back to Paris without being under any apprehension of arrest
there, and that she greatly desired my return. I brought my father-in-law
back in a dying state, and on the day preceding that of the acceptation of
the constitutional act, I informed the Queen that he was no more. "The
loss of Lassonne and Campan," said she, as she applied her handkerchief to
her streaming eyes, "has taught me how valuable such subjects are to their
masters. I shall never find their equals."
I resumed my functions about the Queen on the 1st of September, 1791. She
was unable then to converse with me on all the lamentable events which had
occurred since the time of my leaving her, having on guard near her an
officer whom she dreaded more than all the others. She merely told me
that I should have some secret services to perform for her, and that she
would not create uneasiness by long conversations with me, my return being
a subject of suspicion. But next day the Queen, well knowing the
discretion of the officer who was to be on guard that night, had my bed
placed very near hers, and having obtained the favour of having the door
shut, when I was in bed she began the narrative of the journey, and the
unfortunate arrest at Varennes. I asked her permission to put on my gown,
and kneeling by her bedside I remained until three o'clock in the morning,
listening with the liveliest and most sorrowful interest to the account I
am about to repeat, and of which I have seen various details, of tolerable
exactness, in papers of the time.
The King entrusted Count Fersen with all the preparations for departure.
The carriage was ordered by him; the passport, in the name of Madame de
Korf, was procured through his connection with that lady, who was a
foreigner. And lastly, he himself drove the royal family, as their
coachman, as far as Bondy, where the travellers got into their berlin.
Madame Brunier and Madame Neuville, the first women of Madame and the
Dauphin, there joined the principal carriage. They were in a cabriolet.
Monsieur and Madame set out from the Luxembourg and took another road.
They as well as the King were recognised by the master of the last post in
France, but this man, devoting himself to the fortunes of the Prince, left
the French territory, and drove them himself as postilion. Madame
Thibaut, the Queen's first woman, reached Brussels without the slightest
difficulty. Madame Cardon, from Arras, met with no hindrance; and
Leonard, the Queen's hairdresser, passed through Varennes a few hours
before the royal family. Fate had reserved all its obstacles for the
unfortunate monarch.
Nothing worthy of notice occurred in the beginning of the journey. The
travellers were detained a short time, about twelve leagues from Paris, by
some repairs which the carriage required. The King chose to walk up one
of the hills, and these two circumstances caused a delay of three hours,
precisely at the time when it was intended that the berlin should have
been met, just before reaching Varennes, by the detachment commanded by M.
de Goguelat. This detachment was punctually stationed upon the spot fixed
on, with orders to wait there for the arrival of certain treasure, which
it was to escort; but the peasantry of the neighbourhood, alarmed at the
sight of this body of troops, came armed with staves, and asked several
questions, which manifested their anxiety. M. de Goguelat, fearful of
causing a riot, and not finding the carriage arrive as he expected,
divided his men into two companies, and unfortunately made them leave the
highway in order to return to Varennes by two cross roads. The King looked
out of the carriage at Ste. Menehould, and asked several questions
concerning the road. Drouet, the post-master, struck by the resemblance
of Louis to the impression of his head upon the assignats, drew near the
carriage, felt convinced that he recognised the Queen also, and that the
remainder of the travellers consisted of the royal family and their suite,
mounted his horse, reached Varennes by cross roads before the royal
fugitives, and gave the alarm.--[Varennes lies between Verdun and
Montmedy, and not far from the French frontier.]
The Queen began to feel all the agonies of terror; they were augmented by
the voice of a person unknown, who, passing close to the carriage in full
gallop, cried out, bending towards the window without slackening his
speed, "You are recognised!" They arrived with beating hearts at the
gates of Varennes without meeting one of the horsemen by whom they were to
have been escorted into the place. They were ignorant where to find their
relays, and some minutes were lost in waiting, to no purpose. The
cabriolet had preceded them, and the two ladies in attendance found the
bridge already blocked up with old carts and lumber. The town guards were
all under arms. The King at last entered Varennes. M. de Goguelat had
arrived there with his detachment. He came up to the King and asked him
if he chose to effect a passage by force! What an unlucky question to put
to Louis XVI., who from the very beginning of the Revolution had shown in
every crisis the fear he entertained of giving the least order which might
cause an effusion of blood! "Would it be a brisk action?" said the King.
"It is impossible that it should be otherwise, Sire," replied the
aide-decamp. Louis XVI. was unwilling to expose his family. They
therefore went to the house of a grocer, Mayor of Varennes. The King
began to speak, and gave a summary of his intentions in departing,
analogous to the declaration he had made at Paris. He spoke with warmth
and affability, and endeavoured to demonstrate to the people around him
that he had only put himself, by the step he had taken, into a fit
situation to treat with the Assembly, and to sanction with freedom the
constitution which he would maintain, though many of its articles were
incompatible with the dignity of the throne, and the force by which it was
necessary that the sovereign should be surrounded. Nothing could be more
affecting, added the Queen, than this moment, in which the King felt bound
to communicate to the very humblest class of his subjects his principles,
his wishes for the happiness of his people, and the motives which had
determined him to depart.
Whilst the King was speaking to this mayor, whose name was Sauce, the
Queen, seated at the farther end of the shop, among parcels of soap and
candles, endeavoured to make Madame Sauce understand that if she would
prevail upon her husband to make use of his municipal authority to cover
the flight of the King and his family, she would have the glory of having
contributed to restore tranquillity to France. This woman was moved; she
could not, without streaming eyes, see herself thus solicited by her
Queen; but she could not be got to say anything more than, "Bon Dieu,
Madame, it would be the destruction of M. Sauce; I love my King, but I
love my husband too, you must know, and he would be answerable, you see."
Whilst this strange scene was passing in the shop, the people, hearing
that the King was arrested, kept pouring in from all parts. M. de
Goguelat, making a last effort, demanded of the dragoons whether they
would protect the departure of the King; they replied only by murmurs,
dropping the points of their swords. Some person unknown fired a pistol
at M. de Goguelat; he was slightly wounded by the ball. M. Romeuf,
aide-de-camp to M. de La Fayette, arrived at that moment. He had been
chosen, after the 6th of October, 1789, by the commander of the Parisian
guard to be in constant attendance about the Queen. She reproached him
bitterly with the object of his mission. "If you wish to make your name
remarkable, monsieur," said the Queen to him, "you have chosen strange and
odious means, which will produce the most fatal consequences." This
officer wished to hasten their departure. The Queen, still cherishing the
hope of seeing M. de Bouille arrive with a sufficient force to extricate
the King from his critical situation, prolonged her stay at Varennes by
every means in her power.
The Dauphin's first woman pretended to be taken ill with a violent colic,
and threw herself upon a bed, in the hope of aiding the designs of her
superiors; she went and implored for assistance. The Queen understood her
perfectly well, and refused to leave one who had devoted herself to follow
them in such a state of suffering. But no delay in departing was allowed.
The three Body Guards (Valory, Du Moustier, and Malden) were gagged and
fastened upon the seat of the carriage. A horde of National Guards,
animated with fury and the barbarous joy with which their fatal triumph
inspired them, surrounded the carriage of the royal family.
The three commissioners sent by the Assembly to meet the King, MM. de
Latour-Maubourg, Barnave, and Potion, joined them in the environs of
Epernay. The two last mentioned got into the King's carriage. The Queen
astonished me by the favourable opinion she had formed of Barnave. When I
quitted Paris a great many persons spoke of him only with horror. She told
me he was much altered, that he was full of talent and noble feeling. "A
feeling of pride which I cannot much blame in a young man belonging to the
Tiers Etat," she said, "made him applaud everything which smoothed the
road to rank and fame for that class in which he was born. And if we get
the power in our own hands again, Barnave's pardon is already written on
our hearts." The Queen added, that she had not the same feeling towards
those nobles who had joined the revolutionary party, who had always
received marks of favour, often to the injury of those beneath them in
rank, and who, born to be the safeguard of the monarchy, could never be
pardoned for having deserted it. She then told me that Barnave's conduct
upon the road was perfectly correct, while Potion's republican rudeness
was disgusting; that the latter ate and drank in the King's berlin in a
slovenly manner, throwing the bones of the fowls out through the window at
the risk of sending them even into the King's face; lifting up his glass,
when Madame Elisabeth poured him out wine, to show her that there was
enough, without saying a word; that this offensive behaviour must have
been intentional, because the man was not without education; and that
Barnave was hurt at it. On being pressed by the Queen to take something,
"Madame," replied Barnave, "on so solemn an occasion the deputies of the
National Assembly ought to occupy your Majesties solely about their
mission, and by no means about their wants." In short, his respectful
delicacy, his considerate attentions, and all that he said, gained the
esteem not only of the Queen, but of Madame Elisabeth also.
The King began to talk to Petion about the situation of France, and the
motives of his conduct, which were founded upon the necessity of giving to
the executive power a strength necessary for its action, for the good even
of the constitutional act, since France could not be a republic. "Not yet,
'tis true," replied Petion, "because the French are not ripe enough for
that." This audacious and cruel answer silenced the King, who said no
more until his arrival at Paris. Potion held the little Dauphin upon his
knees, and amused himself with curling the beautiful light hair of the
interesting child round his fingers; and, as he spoke with much
gesticulation, he pulled his locks hard enough to make the Dauphin cry
out. "Give me my son," said the Queen to him; "he is accustomed to
tenderness and delicacy, which render him little fit for such
familiarity."
The Chevalier de Dampierre was killed near the King's carriage upon
leaving Varennes. A poor village cure, some leagues from the place where
the crime was committed, was imprudent enough to draw near to speak to the
King; the cannibals who surrounded the carriage rushed upon him. "Tigers,"
exclaimed Barnave, "have you ceased to be Frenchmen? Nation of brave men,
are you become a set of assassins?" These words alone saved the cure, who
was already upon the ground, from certain death. Barnave, as he spoke to
them, threw himself almost out of the coach window, and Madame Elisabeth,
affected by this noble burst of feeling, held him by the skirt of his
coat. The Queen, while speaking of this event, said that on the most
momentous occasions whimsical contrasts always struck her, and that even
at such a moment the pious Elisabeth holding Barnave by the flap of his
coat was a ludicrous sight.
The deputy was astonished in another way. Madame Elisabeth's comments
upon the state of France, her mild and persuasive eloquence, and the, ease
and simplicity with which she talked to him, yet without sacrificing her
dignity in the slightest degree, appeared to him unique, and his heart,
which was doubtless inclined to right principles though he had followed
the wrong path, was overcome by admiration. The conduct of the two
deputies convinced the Queen of the total separation between the
republican and constitutional parties. At the inns where she alighted she
had some private conversation with Barnave. The latter said a great deal
about the errors committed by the royalists during the Revolution, adding
that he had found the interest of the Court so feebly and so badly
defended that he had been frequently tempted to go and offer it, in
himself, an aspiring champion, who knew the spirit of the age and nation.
The Queen asked him what was the weapon he would have recommended her to
use.
"Popularity, Madame."
"And how could I use that," replied her Majesty, "of which I have been
deprived?"
"Ah! Madame, it was much more easy for you to regain it, than for me to
acquire it."
The Queen mainly attributed the arrest at Varennes to M. de Goguelat; she
said he calculated the time that would be spent in the journey
erroneously. He performed that from Montmedy to Paris before taking the
King's last orders, alone in a post-chaise, and he founded all his
calculations upon the time he spent thus. The trial has been made since,
and it was found that a light carriage without any courier was nearly
three hours less in running the distance than a heavy carriage preceded by
a courier.
The Queen also blamed him for having quitted the high-road at
Pont-de-Sommevelle, where the carriage was to meet the forty hussars
commanded by him. She thought that he ought to have dispersed the very
small number of people at Varennes, and not have asked the hussars whether
they were for the King or the nation; that, particularly, he ought to have
avoided taking the King's orders, as he was previously aware of the reply
M. d'Inisdal had received when it was proposed to carry off the King.
After all that the Queen had said to me respecting the mistakes made by M.
de Goguelat, I thought him of course disgraced. What was my surprise
when, having been set at liberty after the amnesty which followed the
acceptance of the constitution, he presented himself to the Queen, and was
received with the greatest kindness! She said he had done what he could,
and that his zeal ought to form an excuse for all the rest.
[Full details of the preparations for the flight to Varennes will be found
in "Le Comte de Fersen et La Cour de France," Paris, Didot et Cie, 1878 (a
review of which was given in the Quarterly Review for July, 1880), and in
the "Memoirs of the Marquis de Bouille", London, Cadell and Davis, 1797;
Count Fersen being the person who planned the actual escape, and De
Bouille being in command of the army which was to receive the King. The
plan was excellent, and would certainly have succeeded, if it had not been
for the royal family themselves. Marie Antoinette, it will have been seen
by Madame Campan's account, nearly wrecked the plan from inability to do
without a large dressing or travelling case. The King did a more fatal
thing. De Bouille had pointed out the necessity for having in the King's
carriage an officer knowing the route, and able to show himself to give
all directions, and a proper person had been provided. The King, however,
objected, as "he could not have the Marquis d'Agoult in the same carriage
with himself; the governess of the royal children, who was to accompany
them, having refused to abandon her privilege of constantly remaining with
her charge." See "De Bouille," pp. 307 and 334. Thus, when Louis was
recognised at the window of the carriage by Drouet, he was lost by the
very danger that had been foreseen, and this wretched piece of etiquette
led to his death.]
When the royal family was brought back from Varennes to the Tuileries, the
Queen's attendants found the greatest difficulty in making their way to
her apartments; everything had been arranged so that the wardrobe woman,
who had acted as spy, should have the service; and she was to be assisted
in it only by her sister and her sister's daughter.
M. de Gouvion, M. de La Fayette's aide-de-camp, had this woman's portrait
placed at the foot of the staircase which led to the Queen's apartments,
in order that the sentinel should not permit any other women to make their
way in. As soon as the Queen was informed of this contemptible
precaution, she told the King of it, who sent to ascertain the fact. His
Majesty then called for M. de La Fayette, claimed freedom in his
household, and particularly in that of the Queen, and ordered him to send
a woman in, whom no one but himself could confide out of the palace. M. de
La Fayette was obliged to comply.
On the day when the return of the royal family was expected, there were no
carriages in motion in the streets of Paris. Five or six of the Queen's
women, after being refused admittance at all the other gates, went with
one of my sisters to that of the Feuillans, insisting that the sentinel
should admit them. The poissardes attacked them for their boldness in
resisting the order excluding them. One of them seized my sister by the
arm, calling her the slave of the Austrian. "Hear me," said my sister to
her, "I have been attached to the Queen ever since I was fifteen years of
age; she gave me my marriage portion; I served her when she was powerful
and happy. She is now unfortunate. Ought I to abandon her?"--"She is
right," cried the poissardes; "she ought not to abandon her mistress; let
us make an entry for them." They instantly surrounded the sentinel,
forced the passage, and introduced the Queen's women, accompanying them to
the terrace of the Feuillans. One of these furies, whom the slightest
impulse would have driven to tear my sister to pieces, taking her under
her protection, gave her advice by which she might reach the palace in
safety. "But of all things, my dear friend," said she to her, "pull off
that green ribbon sash; it is the color of that D'Artois, whom we will
never forgive."
The measures adopted for guarding the King were rigorous with respect to
the entrance into the palace, and insulting as to his private apartments.
The commandants of battalion, stationed in the salon called the grand
cabinet, and which led to the Queen's bedchamber, were ordered to keep the
door of it always open, in order that they might have their eyes upon the
royal family. The King shut this door one day; the officer of the guard
opened it, and told him such were his orders, and that he would always
open it; so that his Majesty in shutting it gave himself useless trouble.
It remained open even during the night, when the Queen was in bed; and the
officer placed himself in an armchair between the two doors, with his head
turned towards her Majesty. They only obtained permission to have the
inner door shut when the Queen was rising. The Queen had the bed of her
first femme de chambre placed very near her own; this bed, which ran on
casters, and was furnished with curtains, hid her from the officer's
sight.
Madame de Jarjaye, my companion, who continued her functions during the
whole period of my absence, told me that one night the commandant of
battalion, who slept between the two doors, seeing that she was sleeping
soundly, and that the Queen was awake, quitted his post and went close to
her Majesty, to advise her as to the line of conduct she should pursue.
Although she had the kindness to desire him to speak lower in order that
he might not disturb Madame de Jarjaye's rest, the latter awoke, and
nearly died with fright at seeing a man in the uniform of the Parisian
guard so near the Queen's bed. Her Majesty comforted her, and told her
not to rise; that the person she saw was a good Frenchman, who was
deceived respecting the intentions and situation of his sovereign and
herself, but whose conversation showed sincere attachment to the King.
There was a sentinel in the corridor which runs behind the apartments in
question, where there is a staircase, which was at that time an inner one,
and enabled the King and Queen to communicate freely. This post, which
was very onerous, because it was to be kept four and twenty hours, was
often claimed by Saint Prig, an actor belonging to the Theatre Francais.
He took it upon himself sometimes to contrive brief interviews between the
King and Queen in this corridor. He left them at a distance, and gave
them warning if he heard the slightest noise. M. Collot, commandant of
battalion of the National Guard, who was charged with the military duty of
the Queen's household, in like manner softened down, so far as he could
with prudence, all, the revolting orders he received; for instance, one to
follow the Queen to the very door of her wardrobe was never executed. An
officer of the Parisian guard dared to speak insolently of the Queen in
her own apartment. M. Collot wished to make a complaint to M. de La
Fayette against him, and have him dismissed. The Queen opposed it, and
condescended to say a few words of explanation and kindness to the man; he
instantly became one of her most devoted partisans.
The first time I saw her Majesty after the unfortunate catastrophe of the
Varennes journey, I found her getting out of bed; her features were not
very much altered; but after the first kind words she uttered to me she
took off her cap and desired me to observe the effect which grief had
produced upon her hair. It had become, in one single night, as white as
that of a woman of seventy. Her Majesty showed me a ring she had just had
mounted for the Princesse de Lamballe; it contained a lock of her whitened
hair, with the inscription, "Blanched by sorrow." At the period of the
acceptance of the constitution the Princess wished to return to France.
The Queen, who had no expectation that tranquillity would be restored,
opposed this; but the attachment of Madame de Lamballe to the royal family
impelled her to come and seek death.
When I returned to Paris most of the harsh precautions were abandoned; the
doors were not kept open; greater respect was paid to the sovereign; it
was known that the constitution soon to be completed would be accepted,
and a better order of things was hoped for.