"When the royal party retired, they were followed by all the military to

the very palace doors, where they sung, danced, embraced each other, and

gave way to all the frantic demonstrations of devotedness to the royal

cause which the excitement of the scene and the table could produce.

Throngs, of course, collected to get near the Royal Family. Many persons

in the rush were trampled on, and one or two men, it was said, crushed to

death. The Dauphin and King were delighted; but the Queen, in giving the

Princesse Elizabeth and myself an account of the festival, foresaw the

fatal result which would ensue; and deeply deplored the marked enthusiasm

with which they had been greeted and followed by the military.

"There was one more military spectacle, a public breakfast which took

place on the second of October. Though none of the Royal Family appeared

at it, it was no less injurious to their interests than the former. The

enemies of the Crown spread reports all over Paris, that the King and

Queen had manoeuvred to pervert the minds of the troops so far as to make

them declare against the measures of the National Assembly. It is not

likely that the Assembly, or politics, were even spoken of at the

breakfast; but the report did as much mischief as the reality would have

done. This was quite sufficient to encourage the D'ORLEANS and Mirabeau

faction in the Assembly to the immediate execution of their

long-meditated scheme, of overthrowing the monarchy.

"On the very day following, Duport, De Lameth, and Barnave sent their

confidential agent to apprise the Queen that certain deputies had already

fully matured a plot to remove the King, nay, to confine Her Majesty from

him in a distant part of France, that her influence over his mind might

no farther thwart their premeditated establishment of a Constitution.

"But others of this body, and the more powerful and subtle portion, had a

deeper object, so depraved, that, even when forewarned, the Queen could

not deem it possible; but of which she was soon convinced by their

infernal acts.

"The riotous faction, for the purpose of accelerating this denouement,

had contrived, by buying up all the corn and sending it out of the

country, to reduce the populace to famine, and then to make it appear

that the King and Queen had been the monopolisers, and the extravagance

of Marie Antoinette and her largesses to Austria and her favourites, the

cause. The plot was so deeply laid that the wretches who, undertook to

effect the diabolical scheme were metamorphosed in the Queen's livery, so

that all the odium might fall on her unfortunate Majesty. At the head of

the commission of monopolisers was Luckner, who had taken a violent

dislike to the Queen, in consequence of his having been refused some

preferment, which he attributed to her influence. Mirabeau, who was

still in the background, and longing to take a more prominent part,

helped it on as much as possible. Pinet, who had been a confidential

agent of the Duc d'Orleans, himself told the Duc de Penthievre that

D'ORLEANS had monopolised all the corn. This communication, and the

activity of the Count Fersen, saved France, and Paris in particular, from

perishing for the want of bread. Even at the moment of the abominable

masquerade, in which Her Majesty's agents were made to appear the enemies

who were starving the French people, out of revenge for the checks

imposed by them on the royal authority, it was well known to all the

Court that both Her Majesty and the King were grieved to the soul at

their piteous want, and distributed immense sums for the relief of the

poor sufferers, as did the Duc de Penthievre, the Duchesse d'Orleans, the

Prince de Conde, the Duc and Duchesse de Bourbon, and others; but these

acts were done privately, while he who had created the necessity took to

himself the exclusive credit of the relief, and employed thousands daily

to propagate reports of his generosity. Mirabeau, then the factotum

agent of the operations of the Palais Royal and its demagogues, greatly

added to the support of this impression. Indeed, till undeceived

afterwards, he believed it to be really the Duc d'Orleans who had

succoured the people.

"I dispensed two hundred and twenty thousand livres merely to discover

the names of the agents who had been employed to carry on this nefarious

plot to exasperate the people against the throne by starvation imputed to

the Sovereign. Though money achieved the discovery in time to clear the

characters of my royal mistress and the King, the detection only followed

the mischief of the crime. But even the rage thus wickedly excited was

not enough to carry through the plot. In the faubourgs of Paris, where

the women became furies, two hundred thousand livres were distributed ere

the horror could be completely exposed.

"But it is time for me to enter upon the scenes to which all the

intrigues I have detailed were intended to lead--the removal of the Royal

Family from Versailles.

"My heart sickens when I retrace these moments of anguish. The point to

which they are to conduct us yet remains one of the mysteries of fate."

SECTION VI.

"Her Majesty had been so thoroughly lulled into security by the

enthusiasm of the regiments at Versailles that she treated all the

reports from Paris with contempt. Nothing was apprehended from that

quarter, and no preparations were consequently made for resistance or

protection. She was at Little Trianon when the news of the approach of

the desolating torrent arrived. The King was hunting. I presented to

her the commandant of the troops at Versailles, who assured Her Majesty

that a murderous faction, too powerful, perhaps, for resistance, was

marching principally against her royal person, with La Fayette at their

head, and implored her to put herself and valuables in immediate safety;

particularly all her correspondence with the Princes, emigrants, and

foreign Courts, if she had no means of destroying them.

"Though the Queen was somewhat awakened to the truth by this earnest

appeal, yet she still considered the extent of the danger as exaggerated,

and looked upon the representation as partaking, in a considerable

degree, of the nature of all reports in times of popular commotion.

"Presently, however, a more startling omen appeared, in a much milder but

ambiguous communication from General La Fayette. He stated that he was

on his march from Paris with the national guard, and part of the people,

coming to make remonstrances; but he begged Her Majesty to rest assured

that no disorder would take place, and that he himself would vouch that

there should be none.

"The King was instantly sent for to the heights of Meudon, while the

Queen set off from Little Trianon, with me, for Versailles.

"The first movements were commenced by a few women, or men in women's

clothes, at the palace gates of Versailles. The guards refused them

entrance, from an order they had received to that effect from La Fayette.

The consternation produced by their resentment was a mere prelude to the

horrid tragedy that succeeded.

"The information now pouring in from different quarters increased Her

Majesty's alarm every moment. The order of La Fayette, not to let the

women be admitted, convinced her that there was something in agitation,

which his unexplained letter made her sensible was more to be feared than

if he had signified the real situation and danger to which she was

exposed.

"A messenger was forthwith despatched for M. La Fayette, and another, by

order of the Queen, for M. de St. Priest, to prepare a retreat for the

Royal Family, as the Parisian mob's advance could no longer be doubted.

Everything necessary was accordingly got ready.

"La Fayette now arrived at Versailles in obedience to the message, and,

in the presence of all the Court and Ministers, assured the King that he

could answer for the Paris army, at the head of which he intended to

march, to prevent disorders; and advised the admission of the women into

the palace, who, he said, had nothing to propose but a simple memorial

relative to the scarcity of bread.

"The Queen said to him, 'Remember, monsieur, you have pledged your honour

for the King's safety.'

"'And I hope, Madame, to be able to redeem it.'

"He then left Versailles to return to his post with the army.

"A limited number of the women were at length admitted; and so completely

did they seem satisfied with the reception they met with from the King,

as, in all appearance, to have quieted their riotous companions. The

language of menace and remonstrance had changed into shouts of 'Vive le

roi!' The apprehensions of Their Majesties were subdued; and the whole

system of operation, which had been previously adopted for the Royal

Family's quitting Versailles, was, in consequence, unfortunately changed.

"But the troops, that had been hitherto under arms for the preservation

of order, in going back to their hotel, were assailed and fired at by the

mob.

"The return of the body-guards, thus insulted in going to and coming from

the palace, caused the Queen and the Court to resume the resolution of

instantly retiring from Versailles; but it was now too late. They were

stopped by the municipality and the mob of the city, who were animated to

excess against the Queen by one of the bass singers of the French

opera.--[La Haise]

"Every hope of tranquillity was now shaken by the hideous howlings which

arose from all quarters. Intended flight had become impracticable.

Atrocious expressions were levelled against the Queen, too shocking for

repetition. I shudder when I reflect to what a degree of outrage the

'poissardes' of Paris were excited, to express their abominable designs

on the life of that most adored of Sovereigns.

"Early in the evening Her Majesty came to my apartment, in company with

one of her female attendants. She was greatly agitated. She brought all

her jewels and a considerable quantity of papers, which she had begun to

collect together immediately on her arrival from Trianon, as the

commandant had recommended.

[Neither Her Majesty nor the Princess ever returned to Versailles after

the sixth of that fatal October! Part of the papers, brought by the

Queen to the apartment of the Princess, were tacked by me on two of my

petticoats; the under one three fold, one on the other, and outside; and

the upper one, three or four fold double on the inside; and thus I left

the room with this paper undergarment, which put me to no inconvenience.

Returning to the Princess, I was ordered to go to Lisle, there take the

papers from their hiding-place, and deliver them, with others, to the

same person who received the box, of which mention will be found in

another part of this work. I was not to take any letters, and was to

come back immediately.

As I was leaving the apartment Her Majesty said something to Her Highness

which I did not hear. The Princess turned round very quickly, and

kissing me on the forehead, said in Italian, "My dear little

Englishwoman, for Heaven's sake be careful of yourself, for I should

never forgive myself if any misfortune were to befall you." "Nor I," said

Her Majesty.]

"Notwithstanding the fatigue and agitation which the Queen must have

suffered during the day, and the continued threats, horrible howlings,

and discharge of firearms during the night, she had courage enough to

visit the bedchambers of her children and then to retire to rest in her

own.

"But her rest was soon fearfully interrupted. Horrid cries at her

chamber door of 'Save the Queen! Save the Queen! or she will be

assassinated!' aroused her. The faithful guardian who gave the alarm was

never heard more. He was murdered in her defence! Her Majesty herself

only escaped the poignards of immediate death by flying to the King's

apartment, almost in the same state as she lay in bed, not having had

time to screen herself with any covering but what was casually thrown

over her by the women who assisted her in her flight; while one well

acquainted with the palace is said to have been seen busily engaged in

encouraging the regicides who thus sought her for midnight murder. The

faithful guards who defended the entrance to the room of the intended

victim of these desperadoes took shelter in the room itself upon her

leaving it, and were alike threatened with instant death by the grenadier

assassins for having defeated them in their fiend-like purpose; they

were, however, saved by the generous interposition and courage of two

gentlemen, who, offering themselves as victims in their place, thus

brought about a temporary accommodation between the regular troops and

the national guard.

"All this time General La Fayette never once appeared. It is presumed

that he himself had been deceived as to the horrid designs of the mob,

and did not choose to show himself, finding it impossible to check the

impetuosity of the horde he had himself brought to action, in concurring

to countenance their first movements from Paris. Posterity will decide

how far he was justified in pledging himself for the safety of the Royal

Family, while he was heading a riotous mob, whose atrocities were

guaranteed from punishment or check by the sanction of his presence and

the faith reposed in his assurance. Was he ignorant, or did he only

pretend to be so, of the incalculable mischief inevitable from giving

power and a reliance on impunity to such an unreasoning mass? By any

military operation, as commander-in-chief, he might have turned the tide.

And why did he not avail himself of that authority with which he had been

invested by the National Assembly, as the delegates of the nation, for

the general safety and guardianship of the people? for the people, of

whom he was the avowed protector, were themselves in peril: it was only

the humanity (or rather, in such a crisis, the imbecility) of Louis XVI.

that prevented them from being fired on; and they would inevitably have

been sacrificed, and that through the want of policy in their leader, had

not this mistaken mercy of the King prevented his guards from offering

resistance to the murderers of his brave defenders!

"The cry of 'Queen! Queen!' now resounded from the lips of the cannibals

stained with the blood of her faithful guards. She appeared, shielded by

filial affection, between her two innocent children, the threatened

orphans! But the sight of so much innocence and heroic courage paralysed

the hands uplifted for their massacre!

"A tiger voice cried out, 'No children!' The infants were hurried away

from the maternal side, only to witness the author of their being

offering up herself, eagerly and instantly, to the sacrifice, an ardent

and delighted victim to the hoped-for preservation of those, perhaps,

orphans, dearer to her far than life! Her resignation and firm step in

facing the savage cry that was thundering against her, disarmed the

ferocious beasts that were hungering and roaring for their prey!

"Mirabeau, whose immense head and gross figure could not be mistaken, is

said to have been the first among the mob to have sonorously chanted, 'To

Paris!' His myrmidons echoed and re-echoed the cry upon the signal. He

then hastened to the Assembly to contravene any measures the King might

ask in opposition. The riots increasing, the Queen said to His Majesty:

"'Oh, Sire! why am I not animated with the courage of Maria Theresa? Let

me go with my children to the National Assembly, as she did to the

Hungarian Senate, with my Imperial brother, Joseph, in her arms and

Leopold in her womb, when Charles the Seventh of Bavaria had deprived her

of all her German dominions, and she had already written to the Duchesse

de Lorraine to prepare her an asylum, not knowing where she should be

delivered of the precious charge she was then bearing; but I, like the

mother of the Gracchi, like Cornelia, more esteemed for my birth than for

my marriage, am the wife of the King of France, and I see we shall be

murdered in our beds for the want of our own exertions!'

"The King remained as if paralysed and stupefied, and made no answer. The

Princesse Elizabeth then threw herself at the Queen's feet, imploring her

to consent to go to Paris.

"'To Paris!' exclaimed Her Majesty.

"'Yes, Madame,' said the King. 'I will put an end to these horrors; and

tell the people so.'

"On this, without waiting for the Queen's answer, he opened the balcony,

and told the populace he was ready to depart with his family.

"This sudden change caused a change equally sudden in the rabble mob. All

shouted, 'Vive le roi! Vive la nation!'

"Re-entering the room from the window, the King said, 'It is done. This

affair will soon be terminated.'

"'And with it,' said the Queen, 'the monarchy!'

"'Better that, Madame, than running the risk, as I did some hours since,

of seeing you and my children sacrificed!'

"'That, Sire, will be the consequence of our not having left Versailles.

Whatever you determine, it is my duty to obey. As to myself, I am

resigned to my fate.' On this she burst into a flood of tears. 'I only

feel for your humiliated state, and for the safety of our children.'

"The Royal Family departed without having consulted any of the Ministers,

military or civil, or the National Assembly, by whom they were followed.

"Scarcely had they arrived at Paris when the Queen recollected that she

had taken with her no change of dress, either for herself or her

children, and they were obliged to ask permission of the National

Assembly to allow them to send for their different wardrobes.

"What a situation for an absolute King and Queen, which, but a few hours

previous, they had been!

"I now took up my residence with Their Majesties at the Tuileries,--that

odious Tuileries, which I can not name but with horror, where the

malignant spirit of rebellion has, perhaps, dragged us to an untimely

death!

"Monsieur and Madame had another residence. Bailly, the Mayor of Paris,

and La Fayette became the royal jailers.

"The Princesse Elizabeth and myself could not but deeply deplore, when we

saw the predictions of Dumourier so dreadfully confirmed by the result,

that Her Majesty should have so slighted his timely information, and

scorned his penitence. But delicacy bade us lament in silence; and,

while we grieved over her present sufferings, we could not but mourn the

loss of a barrier against future aggression, in the rejection of this

general's proffered services.

"It will be remembered, that Dumourier in his disclosure declared that

the object of this commotion was to place the Duc d'Orleans upon the

throne, and that Mirabeau, who was a prime mover, was to share in the

profits of the usurpation.

[But the heart of the traitor Duke failed him at the important crisis.

Though he was said to have been recognised through a vulgar disguise,

stimulating the assassins to the attempted murder of Her Majesty, yet,

when the moment to show himself had arrived, he was nowhere to be found.

The most propitious moment for the execution of the foul crime was lost,

and with it the confidence of his party. Mirabeau was disgusted. So far

from wishing longer to offer him the crown, he struck it forever from his

head, and turned against him. He openly protested he would no longer set

up traitors who were cowards.]

"Soon after this event, Her Majesty, in tears, came to tell me that the

King, having had positive proof of the agency of the Duc d'Orleans in the

riots of Versailles, had commenced some proceedings, which had given the

Duke the alarm, and exiled him to Villers-Cotterets. The Queen added

that the King's only object had been to assure the general tranquillity,

and especially her own security, against whose life the conspiracy seemed

most distinctly levelled.

"'Oh, Princess!' continued Her Majesty, in a flood of tears, 'the King's

love for me, and his wish to restore order to his people, have been our

ruin! He should have struck off the head of D'ORLEANS, or overlooked his

crime! Why did he not consult me before he took a step so important? I

have lost a friend also in his wife! For, however criminal he may be,

she loves him.'

"I assured Her Majesty that I could not think the Duchesse d'Orleans

would be so inconsiderate as to withdraw her affection on that account.

"'She certainly will,' replied Marie Antoinette. 'She is the

affectionate mother of his children, and cannot but hate those who have

been the cause of his exile. I know it will be laid to my charge, and

added to the hatred the husband has so long borne me; I shall now become

the object of the wife's resentment'

"In the midst of one of the paroxysms of Her Majesty's agonising

agitation after leaving Versailles, for the past, the present, and the

future state of the Royal Family, when the Princesse Elizabeth and myself

were in vain endeavouring to calm her, a deputation was announced from

the National Assembly and the City of Paris, requesting the honour of the

appearance of the King and herself at the theatre.

"'Is it possible, my dear Princess,' cried she, on the announcement,

'that I can enjoy any public amusement while I am still chilled with

horror at the blood these people have spilled, the blood of the faithful

defenders of our lives? I can forgive them, but I cannot so easily

forget it.'

"Count Fersen and the Austrian Ambassador now entered, both anxious to

know Her Majesty's intentions with regard to visiting the theatre, in

order to make a party to ensure her a good reception; but all their

persuasions were unavailing. She thanked the deputation for their

friendship; but at the same time told them that her mind was still too

much agitated from recent scenes to receive any pleasure but in the

domestic cares of her family, and that, for a time, she must decline

every other amusement.

"At this moment the Spanish and English Ambassadors came to pay their

respects to Her Majesty on the same subject as the others. As they

entered, Count Fersen observed to the Queen, looking around:

"'Courage, Madame! We are as many nations as persons in this

room--English, German, Spanish, Italian, Swedish, and French; and all

equally ready to form a rampart around you against aggression. All these

nations will, I believe, admit that the French (bowing to the Princesse

Elizabeth) are the most volatile of the six; and Your Majesty may rely on

it that they will love you, now that you are more closely among them,

more tenderly than ever.'

"'Let me live to be convinced of that, monsieur, and my happiness will be

concentrated in its demonstration.'

"'Indeed, gentlemen,' said the Princesse Elizabeth, the Queen has yet had

but little reason to love the French.'

"'Where is our Ambassador,' said I, 'and the Neapolitan?'

"'I have had the pleasure of seeing them early this morning,' replied the

Queen; 'but I told them, also, that indisposition prevented my going into

public. They will be at our card-party in your apartment this evening,

where I hope to see these gentlemen. The only parties,' continued Her

Majesty, addressing herself to the Princesse Elizabeth and the

Ambassadors, 'the only parties I shall visit in future will be those of

the Princesse de Lamballe, my superintendent; as, in so doing, I shall

have no occasion to go out of the palace, which, from what has happened,

seems to me the only prudent course.'

"'Come, come, Madame,' exclaimed the Ambassadors; I do not give way to

gloomy ideas. All will yet be well.'

"'I hope so,' answered Her Majesty; 'but till that hope is realized, the

wounds I have suffered will make existence a burden to me!'

"The Duchesse de Luynes, like many others, had been a zealous partisan of

the new order of things, and had expressed herself with great

indiscretion in the presence of the Queen. But the Duchess was brought

to her senses when she saw herself, and all the mad, democratical

nobility, under the overpowering weight of Jacobinism, deprived of every

privileged prerogative and levelled and stripped of hereditary

distinction.

"She came to me one day, weeping, to beg I would make use of my good

offices in her favour with the Queen, whom she was grieved that she had

so grossly offended by an unguarded speech.

"'On my knees,' continued the Duchess, I am I ready to supplicate the

pardon of Her Majesty. I cannot live without her forgiveness. One of my

servants has opened my eyes, by telling me that the Revolution can make a

Duchess a beggar, but cannot make a beggar a Duchess.'

"'Unfortunately,' said I, 'if some of these faithful servants had been

listened to, they would still be such, and not now our masters; but I can

assure you, Duchess, that the Queen has long since forgiven you. See!

Her Majesty comes to tell you so herself.'

"The Duchess fell upon her knees. The Queen, with her usual goodness of

heart, clasped her in her arms, and, with tears in her eyes, said:

"'We have all of us need of forgiveness. Our errors and misfortunes are

general. Think no more of the past; but let us unite in not sinning for

the future:

"'Heaven knows how many sins I have to atone for,' replied the Duchess,

'from the follies of youth; but now, at an age of discretion and in

adversity, oh, how bitterly do I reproach myself for my past levities!

But,' continued she, 'has Your Majesty really forgiven me?'

"'As I hope to be forgiven!' exclaimed Marie Antoinette. 'No penitent in

the sight of God is more acceptable than the one who makes a voluntary

sacrifice by confessing error. Forget and forgive is the language of our

Blessed Redeemer. I have adopted it in regard to my enemies, and surely

my friends have a right to claim it. Come, Duchess, I will conduct you

to the King and Elizabeth, who will rejoice in the recovery of one of our

lost sheep; for we sorely feel the diminution of the flock that once

surrounded us!'

"At this token of kindness, the Duchess was so much overcome that she

fell at the Queen's feet motionless, and it was some time before she

recovered.

"From the moment of Her Majesty's arrival at Paris from Versailles, she

solely occupied herself with the education of her children,-excepting

when she resorted to my parties, the only ones, as she had at first

determined, which she ever honoured with her attendance. In order to

discover, as far as possible, the sentiments of certain persons, I gave

almost general invitations, whereby, from her amiable manners and

gracious condescension, she became very popular. By these means I hoped

to replace Her Majesty in the good estimation of her numerous visitors;

but, notwithstanding every exertion, she could not succeed in dispelling

the gloom with which the Revolution had overcast all her former gaiety.

Though treated with ceremonious respect, she missed the cordiality to

which she had been so long accustomed, and which she so much prized. From

the great emigration of the higher classes of the nobility, the societies

themselves were no longer what they had been. Madame Necker and Madame

de Stael were pretty regular visitors. But the most agreeable company

had lost its zest for Marie Antoinette; and she was really become afraid

of large assemblies, and scarcely ever saw a group of persons collected

together without fearing some plot against the King.

"Indeed, it is a peculiarity which has from the first marked, and still

continues to distinguish, the whole conduct and distrust of my royal

mistress, that it never operates to create any fears for herself, but

invariably refers to the safety of His Majesty.

"I had enlarged my circle and made my parties extensive, solely to

relieve the oppressed spirits of the Queen; but the very circumstance

which induced me to make them so general soon rendered them intolerable

to her; for the conversations at last became solely confined to the

topics of the Revolution, a subject frequently the more distressing from

the presence of the sons of the Duc d'Orleans. Though I loved my

sister-in-law and my nephews, I could not see them without fear, nor

could my royal mistress be at ease with them, or in the midst of such

distressing indications as perpetually intruded upon her, even beneath my

roof, of the spirit which animated the great body of the people for the

propagation of anti-monarchical principles.

"My parties were, consequently, broken up; and the Queen ceased to be

seen in society. Then commenced the unconquerable power over her of

those forebodings which have clung to her with such pertinacity ever

since.

"I observed that Her Majesty would often indulge in the most melancholy

predictions long before the fatal discussion took place in the Assembly

respecting the King's abdication. The daily insolence with which she saw

His Majesty's authority deprived forever of the power of accomplishing

what he had most at heart for the good of his people gave her more

anguish than the outrages so frequently heaped upon herself; but her

misery was wrought up to a pitch altogether unutterable, whenever she saw

those around her suffer for their attachment to her in her misfortunes.

"The Princesse Elizabeth has been from the beginning an unwavering

comforter. She still flatters Marie Antoinette that Heaven will spare

her for better times to reward our fidelity and her own agonies. The

pious consolations of Her Highness have never failed to make the most

serious impression on our wretched situation. Indeed, each of us strives

to pour the balm of comfort into the wounded hearts of the others, while

not one of us, in reality, dares to flatter herself with what we all so

ardently wish for in regard to our fellow-sufferers. Delusions, even

sustained by facts, have long since been exhausted. Our only hope on

this side of the grave is in our all-merciful Redeemer!"

SECTION VII.

Editors Commentary:

The reader will not, I trust, be dissatisfied at reposing for a moment

from the sad story of the Princesse de Lamballe to hear some ridiculous

circumstances which occurred to me individually; and which, though they

form no part of the history, are sufficiently illustrative of the temper

of the times.

I had been sent to England to put some letters into the postoffice for

the Prince de Conde, and had just returned. The fashion then in England

was a black dress, Spanish hat, and yellow satin lining, with three

ostrich feathers forming the Prince of Wales's crest, and bearing his

inscription, 'Ich dien,' ("I serve.") I also brought with me a white

satin cloak, trimmed with white fur. This crest and motto date as far

back, I believe, as the time of Edward, the Black Prince.

In this dress, I went to the French opera. Scarcely was I seated in the

bog, when I heard shouts of, "En bas les couleurs de d'empereur! En

bas!"

I was very busy talking to a person in the box, and, having been

accustomed to hear and see partial riots in the pit, I paid no attention;

never dreaming that my poor hat and feathers, and cloak, were the cause

of the commotion, till an officer in the national guard very politely

knocked at the door of the box, and told me I must either take them off

or leave the theatre.

There is nothing I more dislike than the being thought particular, or

disposed to attract attention by dress. The moment, therefore, I found

myself thus unintentionally the object of a whole theatre's disturbance,

in the first impulse of indignation, I impetuously caught off the cloak

and hat, and flung them into the pit, at the very faces of the rioters.

The theatre instantly rang with applause. The obnoxious articles were

carefully folded up and taken to the officer of the guard, who, when I

left the box, at the end of the opera, brought them to me and offered to

assist me in putting them on; but I refused them with true cavalier-like

loftiness, and entered my carriage without either hat or cloak.

There were many of the audience collected round the carriage at the time,

who, witnessing my rejection of the insulted colours, again loudly

cheered me; but insisted on the officer's placing the hat and cloak in

the carriage, which drove off amidst the most violent acclamations.

Another day, as I was going to walk in the Tuileries (which I generally

did after riding on horseback), the guards crossed their bayonets at the

gate and forbade my entering. I asked them why. They told me no one was

allowed to walk there without the national ribbon.

Now, I always had one of these national ribbons about me, from the time

they were first worn; but I kept it in the inside of my riding-habit; and

on that day, in particular, my supply was unusually ample, for I had on a

new riding-habit, the petticoat of which was so very long and heavy that

I bought a large quantity to tie round my waist, and fasten up the dress,

to prevent it from falling about my feet.

However, I was determined to plague the guards for their impudence. My

English beau, who was as pale as death, and knew I had the ribbon, kept

pinching my arm, and whispering, "Show it, show it; zounds, madame, show

it! We shall be sent to prison! show it! show it!" But I took care to

keep my interrupters in parley till a sufficient mob was collected, and

then I produced my colours.

The soldiers were consequently most gloriously hissed, and would have

been maltreated by the mob, and sent to the guard-house by their officer,

but for my intercession; on which I was again applauded all through the

gardens as La Brave Anglaise. But my, beau declared he would never go

out with me again: unless I wore the ribbon on the outside of my hat,

which I never did and never would do.

At that time the Queen used to occupy herself much in fancy needle-works.

Knowing, from arrangements, that I was every day in a certain part of the

Tuileries, Her Majesty, when she heard the shout of La Brave Anglaise!

immediately called the Princesse de Lamballe to know if she had sent me

on any message. Being answered in the negative, one of the pages was

despatched to ascertain the meaning of the cry. The Royal Family lived

in so continual a state of alarm that it was apprehended I had got into

some scrape; but I had left the Tuileries before the messenger arrived,

and was already with the Princesse de Lamballe, relating the

circumstances. The Princess told Her Majesty, who graciously observed,

"I am very happy that she got off so well; but caution her to be more

prudent for the future. A cause, however bad, is rather aided than

weakened by unreasonable displays of contempt for it. These unnecessary

excitements of the popular jealousy do us no good."

I was, of course, severely reprimanded by the Princess for my frolic,

though she enjoyed it of all things, and afterwards laughed most

heartily.

The Princess told me, a few days after these circumstances of the

national ribbon and the Austrian colours had taken place at the theatre,

that some one belonging to the private correspondence at the palace had

been at the French opera on the night the disturbance took place there,

and, without knowing the person to whom it related, had told the whole

story to the King.

The Queen and the Princesses Elizabeth and de Lamballe being present,

laughed very heartily. The two latter knew it already from myself, the

fountain head, but the Princesse Elizabeth said:

"Poor lady! what a fright she must have been in, to have had her things

taken away from her at the theatre"

"No fright at all," said the King; "for a young woman who could act thus

firmly under such an insolent outrage will always triumph over cowards,

unmanly enough to abuse their advantages by insulting her. She was not a

Frenchwoman, I'll answer for it."

"Oh, no, Sire. She is an Englishwoman," said the Princesse de Lamballe.

"I am glad of it," exclaimed the King; "for when she returns to England

this will be a good personal specimen for the information of some of her

countrymen, who have rejoiced at what they call the regeneration of the

French nation; a nation once considered the most polished in Europe, but

now become the most uncivil, and I wish I may never have occasion to add,

the most barbarous! An insult offered, wantonly, to either sex, at any

time, is the result of insubordination; but when offered to a woman, it

is a direct violation of civilised hospitality, and an abuse of power

which never before tarnished that government now so much the topic of

abuse by the enemies of order and legitimate authority. The French

Princes, it is true, have been absolute; still I never governed

despotically, but always by the advice of my counsellors and Cabinet

Ministers. If they have erred, my conscience is void of reproach. I

wish the National Assembly may govern for the future with equal prudence,

equity, and justice; but they have given a poor earnest in pulling down

one fabric before they have laid the solid foundation of another. I am

very happy that their agents, who, though they call themselves the

guardians of public order have hitherto destroyed its course, have, in

the courage of this English lady, met with some resistance to their

insolence, in foolishly occupying themselves with petty matters, while

those of vital import are totally neglected."

It is almost superfluous to mention that, at the epoch of which I am

speaking in the Revolution, the Royal Family were in so much distrust of

every one about them, and very necessarily and justly so, that none were

ever confided in for affairs, however trifling, without first having

their fidelity repeatedly put to the test. I was myself under this

probation long before I knew that such had ever been imposed.

With the private correspondence I had already been for some time

entrusted; and it was only previous to employing me on secret missions of

any consequence that I was subject to the severer scrutiny. Even before

I was sent abroad, great art was necessary to elude the vigilance of

prying eyes in the royal circle; and, in order to render my activity

available to important purposes, my connection with the Court was long

kept secret. Many stratagems were devised to mislead the Arguses of the

police. To this end, after the disorders of the Revolution began, I

never entered the palaces but on an understood signal, for which I have

been often obliged to attend many hours in the gardens of Versailles, as

I had subsequently done in that of the Tuileries.

To pass the time unnoticed, I used generally to take a book, and seat

myself, occupied in reading, sometimes in one spot, sometimes in another;

but with my man and maid servant always within call, though never where

they could be seen.

On one of these occasions, a person, though not totally masked yet

sufficiently disguised to prevent my recognising his features, came

behind my seat, and said he wished to speak to me. I turned round and

asked his business.

"That's coming to the point!" he answered. "Walk a little way with me,

and I will tell you."

Not to excite suspicion, I walked into a more retired part of the garden,

after a secret signal to my man servant, who followed me unperceived by

the stranger.

"I am commissioned," said my mysterious companion, "to make you a very

handsome present, if you will tell me what you are waiting for."

I laughed, and was turning from him, saying, "Is this all your business?"

"No," he replied.

"Then keep it to yourself. I am not waiting here for any one or

anything; but am merely occupied in reading and killing time to the best

advantage."

"Are you a poetess?"

"No."

"And scarcely a woman; for your answers are very short."

"Very likely."

"But I have something of importance to communicate-----"

"That is impossible."

"But listen to me-----"

"You are mistaken in your person."

"But surely you will not be so unreasonable as not to hear what I have to

say?"

"I am a stranger in this country, and can have nothing of importance with

one I do not know."

"You have quarrelled with your lover and are in an ill-humour.

"Perhaps so. Well! come! I believe you have guessed the cause."

"Ah! it is the fate of us all to get into scrapes! But you will soon

make it up; and now let me entreat your attention to what I have to

offer."

I became impatient, and called my servant.

"Madame," resumed the stranger, "I am a gentleman, and mean no harm. But

I assure you, you stand in your own light. I know more about you than

you think I do."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, madame, you are waiting here for an august personage."

At this last sentence, my lips laughed, while my heart trembled.

"I wish to caution you," continued he, "how you embark in plans of this

sort."

"Monsieur, I repeat, you have taken me for some other person. I will no

longer listen to one who is either a maniac or an officious intruder."

Upon this, the stranger bowed and left me; but I could perceive that he

was not displeased with my answers, though I was not a little agitated,

and longed to see Her Highness to relate to her this curious adventure.

In a few hours I did so. The Princess was perfectly satisfied with my

manner of proceeding, only she thought it singular, she said, that the

stranger should suspect I was there in attendance for some person of

rank; and she repeated, three or four times, "I am heartily glad that you

did not commit yourself by any decided answer. What sort of a man was

he?"

"Very much of the gentleman; above the middle stature; and, from what I

could see of his countenance, rather handsome than otherwise."

"Was he a Frenchman?"

"No. I think he spoke good French and English, with an Irish accent."

"Then I know who it is," exclaimed she. "It is Dillon: I know it from

some doubts which arose between Her Majesty, Dillon, and myself,

respecting sending you upon a confidential mission. Oh, come hither!

come hither!" continued Her Highness, overwhelming me with kisses. "How

glad, how very glad I am, that the Queen will be convinced I was not

deceived in what I told Her Majesty respecting you. Take no notice of

what I am telling you; but he was sent from the Queen, to tempt you into

some imprudence, or to be convinced, by your not falling into the snare,

that she might rely on your fidelity."

"What! doubt my fidelity?" said I.

"Oh, my dear, you must excuse Her Majesty. We live in critical times.

You will be the more rewarded, and much more esteemed, for this proof of

your firmness. Do you think you should know him, if you were to see him

again?"

"Certainly, I should, if he were in the same disguise.

"That, I fear, will be rather difficult to accomplish. However, you

shall go in your carriage and wait at the door of his sister, the

Marquise of Desmond; where I will send for him to come to me at four

o'clock to-morrow. In this way, you will have an opportunity of seeing

him on horseback, as he always pays his morning visits riding."

I would willingly have taken a sleeping draught, and never did I wait

more anxiously than for the hour of four.

I left the Princess, and, in crossing from the Carrousel to go to the

Place Vendome, it rained very fast, and there glanced by me, on

horseback, the same military cloak in which the stranger had been

wrapped. My carriage was driving so fast that I still remained in doubt

as to the wearer's person.

Next day, however, as appointed, I repaired to the place of rendezvous;

and I could almost have sworn, from the height of the person who alighted

from his horse, that he was my mysterious questioner.

Still, I was not thoroughly certain. I watched the Princess coming out,

and followed her carriage to the Champs Elysees and told her what I

thought.

"Well," replied she, "we must think no more about it; nor must it ever be

mentioned to him, should you by any chance meet him."

I said I should certainly obey Her Highness.

A guilty conscience needs no accuser. A few days after I was riding on

horseback in the Bois de Boulogne, when Lord Edward Fitzgerald came up to

speak to me. Dillon was passing at the time, and, seeing Lord Edward,

stopped, took off his hat, and observed, "A very pleasant day for riding,

madame!" Then, looking me full in the face, he added, "I beg your

pardon, madame, I mistook you for another lady with whom Lord Edward is

often in company."

I said there was no offence; but the moment I heard him speak I was no

longer in doubt of his being the identical person.

When I had learnt the ciphering and deciphering, and was to be sent to

Italy, the Queen acknowledged to the Princesse de Lamballe that she was

fully persuaded I might be trusted, as she had good reason to know that

my fidelity was not to be doubted or shaken.

Dear, hapless Princess! She said to me, in one of her confidential

conversations on these matters, "The Queen has been so cruelly deceived

and so much watched that she almost fears her own shadow; but it gives me

great pleasure that Her Majesty had been herself confirmed by one of her

own emissaries in what I never for a moment doubted.

"But do not fancy," continued the Princess, laughing, "that you have had

only this spy to encounter. Many others have watched your motions and

your conversations, and all concur in saying you are the devil, and they

could make nothing of you. But that, 'mia cara piccola diavolina', is

just what we want!"

SECTION VIII.

Editor in continuation.

I am compelled, with reluctance, to continue personally upon the stage,

and must do so for the three ensuing chapters, in order to put my readers

in possession of circumstances explanatory of the next portion of the

Journal of the Princesse de Lamballe.

Even the particulars I am about to mention can give but a very faint idea

of the state of alarm in which the Royal Family lived, and the perpetual

watchfulness and strange and involved expedients that were found

necessary for their protection. Their most trifling communications were

scrutinized with so much jealousy that when any of importance were to be

made it required a dexterity almost miraculous to screen them from the

ever-watchful eye of espionage.

I was often made instrumental in evading the curiosity of others, without

ever receiving any clue to the gratification of my own, even had I been

troubled with such impertinence. The anecdote I am about to mention will

show how cautious a game it was thought necessary to play; and the result

of my half-information will evince that over-caution may produce evils

almost equal to total carelessness.

Some time previous to the flight of the Royal Family from Paris, the

Princesse de Lamballe told me she wanted some repairs made to the locks

of certain dressing and writing-desks; but she would prefer having them

done at my apartments, and by a locksmith who lived at a distance from

the palace.

When the boxes were repaired, I was sent with one of them to Lisle, where

another person took charge of it for the Archduchess at Brussels.

There was something which strongly marked the kind-heartedness of the

Princesse de Lamballe in a part of this transaction. I had left Paris

without a passport, and Her Highness, fearing it might expose me to

inconvenience, sent an express after me. The express arrived three hours

before I did, and the person to whom I have alluded came out of Brussels

in his carriage to meet me and receive the box. At the same time, he

gave me a sealed letter, without any address. I asked him from whom he

received it, and to whom it was to be delivered. He said he was only

instructed to deliver it to the lady with the box, and he showed me the

Queen's cipher. I took the letter, and, after partaking of some

refreshments, returned with it, according to my orders.

On my arrival at Paris, the Princesse de Lamballe told me her motive for

sending the express, who, she said, informed her, on his return, that I

had a letter for the Queen. I said it was more than I knew. "Oh, I

suppose that is because the letter bears no address," replied she; "but

you were shown the cipher, and that is all which is necessary."

She did not take the letter, and I could not help remarking how far, in

this instance, the rigour of etiquette was kept up, even between these

close friends. The Princess, not having herself received the letter,

could not take it from my hands to deliver without Her Majesty's express

command. This being obtained, she asked me for it, and gave it to Her

Majesty. The circumstance convinced me that the Princess exercised much

less influence over the Queen, and was much more directed by Her

Majesty's authority, than has been imagined.

Two or three days after my arrival at Paris, my servant lost the key of

my writing-desk, and, to remedy the evil, he brought me the same

locksmith I had employed on the repairs just mentioned. As it was

necessary I should be present to remove my papers when the lock was taken

off, of course I saw the man. While I was busy clearing the desk, with

an air of great familiarity he said, "I have had jobs to do here before

now, my girl, as your sweetheart there well knows."

I humoured his mistake in taking me for my own maid and my servant's

sweetheart, and I pertly answered, "Very likely."

"Oh, yes, I have," said he; "it was I who repaired the Queen's boxes in

this very room."

Knowing I had never received anything of the sort from Her Majesty, and

utterly unaware that the boxes the Princess sent to my apartments had

been the Queen's, I was greatly surprised. Seeing my confusion, he said,

"I know the boxes as well as I know myself. I am the King's locksmith,

my dear, and I and the King worked together many years. Why, I know

every creek and corner of the palace, aye, and I know everything that's

going on in them, too--queer doings! Lord, my pretty damsel, I made a

secret place in the palace to hide the King's papers, where the devil

himself would never find them out, if I or the King didn't tell!"

Though I wished him at the devil every moment he detained me from

disclosing his information at the palace, yet I played off the soubrette

upon him till he became so interested I thought he never would have gone.

At last, however, he took his departure, and the moment he disappeared,

out of the house I flew.

The agitation and surprise of the Princess at what I related were

extreme. "Wait," cried she; "I must go and inform the Queen instantly."

In going out of the room, "Great God, what a discovery!" exclaimed Her

Highness.

It was not long before she returned. Luckily, I was dressed for dinner.

She took me by the hand and, unable to speak, led me to the private

closet of the Queen.

Her Majesty graciously condescended to thank me for the letter I had

taken charge of. She told me that for the future all letters to her

would be without any superscription; and desired me, if any should be

given to me by persons I had not before seen, and the cipher were shown

at the same time, to receive and deliver them myself into her hands, as

the production of the cipher would be a sufficient pledge of their

authenticity.

Being desired to repeat the conversation with Gamin, "There, Princess!"

exclaimed Her Majesty, "Am I not the crow of evil forebodings? I trust

the King will never again be credulous enough to employ this man. I have

long had an extreme aversion to His Majesty's familiarity with him; but

he shall hear his impudence himself from your own lips, my good little

Englishwoman; and then he will not think it is prepossession or

prejudice."

A few evenings elapsed, and I thought no more of the subject, till one

night I was ordered to the palace by the Princess, which never happened

but on very particular occasions, as she was fearful of exciting

suspicion by any appearance of close intimacy with one so much about

Paris upon the secret embassies of the Court.

When I entered the apartment, the King, the Queen, and the Princesse

Elizabeth were, as if by accident, in an adjoining room; but, from what

followed, I am certain they all came purposely to hear my deposition. I

was presently commanded to present myself to the august party.

The King was in deep conversation with the Princesse Elizabeth. I must

confess I felt rather embarrassed. I could not form an idea why I was

thus honoured. The Princesse de Lamballe graciously took me by the hand.

"Now tell His Majesty, yourself, what Gamin said to you."

I began to revive, perceiving now wherefore I was summoned. I accordingly

related, in the presence of the royal guests assembled, as I had done

before Her Majesty and the Princesse de Lamballe, the scene as it

occurred.

When I came to that part where he said, "where the devil himself could

never find them out," His Majesty approached from the balcony, at which

he had been talking with the Princesse Elizabeth, and said, "Well! he is

very right--but neither he nor the devil shall find them out, for they

shall be removed this very night."

[Which was done; and these are, therefore, no doubt, the papers and

portfolio of which Madame Campan speaks, vol. ii., p. 142, as having

been entrusted to her care after being taken from their hiding-place by

the King himself.]

The King, the Queen, and the Princesse Elizabeth most graciously said,

"Nous sommes bien obligis, ma petite anglaise!" and Her Majesty added,

"Now, my dear, tell me all the rest about this man, whom I have long

suspected for his wickedness."

I said he had been guilty of no hostile indications, and that the chief

fault I had to find with him was his exceeding familiarity in mentioning

himself before the King, saying, "I and the King."

"Go on," said Her Majesty; "give us the whole as it occurred, and let us

form our own conclusions."

"Yes," cried the Princess, "parlate sciolto."--"Si Si," rejoined the

Queen, "parlate tutto--yes, yes, speak out and tell us all."

I then related the remainder of the conversation, which very much alarmed

the royal party, and it was agreed that, to avoid suspicion, I should

next day send for the locksmith and desire him, as an excuse, to look at

the locks of my trunks and travelling carriage, and set off in his

presence to take up my pretended mistress on the road to Calais, that he

might not suspect I had any connection with any one about the Court. I

was strictly enjoined by Her Majesty to tell him that the man servant had

had the boxes from some one to get them repaired, without either my

knowledge or that of my mistress, and, by her pretended orders, to give

him a discharge upon the spot for having dared to use her apartments as a

workshop for the business of other people.

"Now," said the Princesse de Lamballe, "now play the comic part you acted

between your servant and Gamin:" which I did, as well as I could

recollect it, and the royal audience were so much amused, that I had the

honour to remain in the room and see them play at cards. At length,

however, there came three gentle taps at the outer door. "Ora a tempo

perche vene andata," exclaimed Her Highness at the sound, having ordered

a person to call with this signal to see me out of the palace to the Rue

Nicaise, where my carriage was in waiting to conduct me home.

It is not possible for me to describe the gracious condescension of the

Queen and the Princesse Elizabeth, in expressing their sentiments for the

accidental discovery I had made. Amid their assurances of tender

interest and concern, they both reproved me mildly for my imprudence in

having, when I went to Brussels, hurried from Paris without my passport.

They gave me prudential cautions with regard to my future conduct and

residence at Paris; and it was principally owing to the united

persuasions and remonstrances of these three angels in human form that I

took six or seven different lodgings, where the Princesse de Lamballe

used to meet me by turns; because had I gone often to the palace, as many

others did, or waited for Her Highness regularly in any one spot, I

should, infallibly, have been discovered.

"Gracious God!" exclaimed Her Majesty in the course of this

conversation, "am I born to be the misfortune of every one who shows an

interest in serving me? Tell my sister, when you return to Brussels

again--and do not forget to say I desired you to tell her--our cruel

situation! She does not believe that we are surrounded by enemies, even

in our most private seclusions! in our prison! that we are even thrown

exclusively upon foreigners in our most confidential affairs; that in

France there is scarcely an individual to whom we can look! They betray

us for their own safety, which is endangered by any exertions in our

favour. Tell her this," repeated the Queen three or four times.

The next day I punctually obeyed my orders. Gamin was sent for to look

at the locks, and received six francs for his opinion. The man servant

was reproved by me on behalf of my supposed mistress, and, in the

presence of Gamin, discharged for having brought suspicious things into

the house.

The man being tutored in his part, begged Gamin to plead for my

intercession with our mistress. I remained inexorable, as he knew I

should. While Gamin was still by I discharged the bill at the house, got

into my carriage, and took the road towards Calais.

At Saint Denis, however, I feigned to be taken ill, and in two days

returned to Paris.

Even this simple act required management. I contrived it in the

following manner. I walked out on the high road leading to the capital

for the purpose of meeting my servant at a place which had been fixed for

the meeting before I left Paris. I found him on horseback at his post,

with a carriage prepared for my return. As soon as I was out of sight he

made the best of his way forward, went to the inn with a note from me,

and returned with my carriage and baggage I had to lodgings at Passy.

The joy of the Princess on seeing me safe again brought tears into her

eyes; and, when I related the scene I played off before Gamin against my

servant, she laughed most heavily. "But surely," said she, "you have not

really discharged the poor man?"--"Oh, no," replied I; "he acted his part

so well before the locksmith, that I should be very sorry to lose such an

apt scholar."

"You must perform this 'buffa scena'," observed Her Highness, "to the

Queen. She has been very anxious to know the result; but her spirits are

so depressed that I fear she will not come to my party this evening.

However, if she do not, I will see her to-morrow, and you shall make her

laugh. It would be a charity, for she has not done so from the heart for

many a day!"

SECTION IX.

Editor in continuation:

Every one who has read at all is familiar with the immortal panegyric of

the great Edmund Burke upon Marie Antoinette. It is known that this

illustrious man was not mean enough to flatter; yet his eloquent praises

of her as a Princess, a woman, and a beauty, inspiring something beyond

what any other woman could excite, have been called flattery by those who

never knew her; those who did, must feel them to be, if possible, even

below the truth. But the admiration of Mr. Burke was set down even to a

baser motive, and, like everything else, converted into a source of

slander for political purposes, long before that worthy palladium of

British liberty had even thought of interesting himself for the welfare

of France, which his prophetic eye saw plainly was the common cause of

all Europe.

But, keenly as that great statesman looked into futurity, little did he

think, when he visited the Queen in all her splendour at Trianon, and

spoke so warmly of the cordial reception he had met with at Versailles

from the Duc and Duchesse de Polignac, that he should have so soon to

deplore their tragic fate!

Could his suggestions to Her Majesty, when he was in France, have been

put in force, there is scarcely a doubt that the Revolution might have

been averted, or crushed. But he did not limit his friendship to

personal advice. It is not generally known that the Queen carried on,

through the medium of the Princesse de Lamballe, a very extensive

correspondence with Mr. Burke. He recommended wise and vast plans; and

these, if possible, would have been adopted. The substance of some of

the leading ones I can recall from the journal of Her Highness and

letters which I have myself frequently deciphered. I shall endeavour,

succinctly, to detail such of them as I remember.

Mr. Burke recommended the suppression of all superfluous religious

institutions, which had not public seminaries to support. Their lands,

he advised, should be divided, without regard to any distinction but that

of merit, among such members of the army and other useful classes of

society, as, after having served the specified time, should have risen,

through their good conduct, to either civil or military preferment. By

calculations upon the landed interest, it appeared that every individual

under the operation of this bounty would, in the course of twenty years,

possess a yearly income of from five to seven hundred francs.

Another of the schemes suggested by Mr. Burke was to purge the kingdom of

all the troops which had been corrupted from their allegiance by the

intrigues growing out of the first meeting of the Notables. He proposed

that they should sail at the same time, or nearly so, to be colonized in

the different French islands and Madagascar; and, in their place, a new

national guard created, who should be bound to the interest of the

legitimate Government by receiving the waste crown lands to be shared

among them, from the common soldier to its generals and Field-marshals.

Thus would the whole mass of rebellious blood have been reformed. To

ensure an effectual change, Mr. Burke advised the enrolment, in rotation,

of sixty thousand Irish troops, twenty thousand always to remain in

France, and forty thousand in reversion for the same service. The

lynx-eyed statesman saw clearly, from the murders of the Marquis de

Launay and M. Flesselles, and from the destruction of the Bastille, and

of the ramparts of Paris, that party had not armed itself against Louis,

but against the throne. It was therefore necessary to produce a

permanent revolution in the army.

[Mr. Burke was too great a statesman not to be the friend of his

country's interest. He also saw that, from the destruction of the

monarchy in France, England had more to fear than to gain. He well knew

that the French Revolution was not, like that of the Americans, founded

on grievances and urged in support of a great and disinterested

principle. He was aware that so restless a people, when they had

overthrown the monarchy, would not limit the overthrow to their own

country. After Mr. Burke's death, Mr. Fox was applied to, and was

decidedly of the same opinion. Mr. Sheridan was interrogated, and, at

the request of the Princesse de Lamballe, he presented, for the Queen's

inspection, plans nearly equal to those of the above two great statesmen;

and what is most singular and scarcely credible is that one and all of

the opposition party in England strenuously exerted themselves for the

upholding of the monarchy in France. Many circumstances which came to my

knowledge before and after the death of Louis XVI. prove that Mr. Pitt

himself was averse to the republican principles being organized so near a

constitutional monarchy as France was to Great Britain. Though the

conduct of the Duc d'Orleans was generally reprobated, I firmly believe

that if he had possessed sufficient courage to have usurped the crown and

re-established the monarchy, he would have been treated with in

preference to the republicans. I am the more confirmed in this opinion

by a conversation between the Princesse de Lamballe and Mirabeau, in

which he said a republic in France would never thrive.]

There was another suggestion to secure troops around the throne of a more

loyal temper. It was planned to incorporate all the French soldiers, who

had not voluntarily deserted the royal standard, with two-thirds of

Swiss, German, and Low Country forces, among whom were to be divided,

after ten years' service, certain portions of the crown lands, which were

to be held by presenting every year a flag of acknowledgment to the King

and Queen; with the preference of serving in the civil or military

departments, according to the merit or capacity of the respective

individuals. Messieurs de Broglie, de Bouille, de Luxembourg, and

others, were to have been commanders. But this plan, like many others,

was foiled in its birth, and, it is said, through the intrigues of

Mirabeau.

However, all concurred in the necessity of ridding France, upon the most

plausible pretexts, of the fomenters of its ruin. Now arose a fresh

difficulty. Transports were wanted, and in considerable numbers.

A navy agent in England was applied to for the supply of these

transports. So great was the number required, and so peculiar the

circumstances, that the agent declined interfering without the sanction

of his Government.

A new dilemma succeeded. Might not the King of England place improper

constructions on this extensive shipment of troops from the different

ports of France for her West India possessions? Might it not be fancied

that it involved secret designs on the British settlements in that

quarter?

All these circumstances required that some communication should be opened

with the Court of St. James; and the critical posture of affairs exacted

that such communication should be less diplomatic than confidential.

It will be recollected that, at the very commencement of the reign of

Louis XVI., there were troubles in Britanny, which the severe

governorship of the Duc d'Aiguillon augmented. The Bretons took

privileges with them, when they became blended with the kingdom of

France, by the marriage of Anne of Brittany with Charles VIII., beyond

those of any other of its provinces. These privileges they seemed rather

disposed to extend than relinquish, and were by no means reserved in the

expression of their resolution. It was considered expedient to place a

firm, but conciliatory, Governor over them, and the Duc de Penthievre was

appointed to this difficult trust. The Duke was accompanied to his

vice-royalty by his daughter-in-law, the Princesse de Lamballe, who, by

her extremely judicious management of the female part of the province,

did more for the restoration of order than could have been achieved by

armies. The remembrance of this circumstance induced the Queen to regard

Her Highness as a fit person to send secretly to England at this very

important crisis; and the purpose was greatly encouraged by a wish to

remove her from a scene of such daily increasing peril.

For privacy, it was deemed expedient that Her Highness should withdraw to

Aumale, under the plea of ill-health, and thence proceed to England; and

it was also by way of Aumale that she as secretly returned, after the

fatal disaster of the stoppage, to discourage the impression of her ever

having been out of France.

The mission was even unknown to the French Minister at the Court of St.

James.

The Princess was ordered by Her Majesty to cultivate the acquaintance of

the late Duchess of Gordon, who was supposed to possess more influence

than any woman in England--in order to learn the sentiments of Mr. Pitt

relative to the revolutionary troubles. The Duchess, however, was too

much of an Englishwoman, and Mr. Pitt too much interested in the ruin of

France, to give her the least clue to the truth.

In order to fathom the sentiments of the opposition party, the Princess

cultivated the society also of the late Duchess of Devonshire, but with

as little success. The opposition party foresaw too much risk in

bringing anything before the house to alarm the prejudices of the nation.

The French Ambassador, too, jealous of the unexplained purpose of the

Princess, did all he could to render her expedition fruitless.

Nevertheless, though disappointed in some of her main objects with regard

to influence and information, she became so great a favourite at the

British Court that she obtained full permission of the King and Queen of

England to signify to her royal mistress and friend that the specific

request she came to make would be complied with.

[The Princess visited Bath, Windsor, Brighton, and many other parts of

England, and associated with all parties. She managed her conduct so

judiciously that the real object of her visit was never suspected. In

all these excursions I had the honour to attend her confidentially. I

was the only person entrusted with papers from Her Highness to Her

Majesty. I had many things to copy, of which the originals went to

France. Twice during the term of Her Highness's residence in England I

was sent by Her Majesty with papers communicating the result of the

secret mission to the Queen of Naples. On the second of these two trips,

being obliged to travel night and day, I could only keep my eyes open by

means of the strongest coffee. When I reached my destination I was

immediately compelled to decipher the despatches with the Queen of Naples

in the office of the Secretary of State. That done, General Acton

ordered some one, I know not whom, to conduct me, I know not where, but

it was to a place where, after a sound sleep of twenty-four hours, I

awoke thoroughly refreshed, and without a vestige of fatigue either of

mind or body. On waking, lest anything should transpire, I was desired

to quit Naples instantly, without seeing the British Minister. To make

assurance doubly sure, General Acton sent a person from his office to

accompany me out of the city on horseback; and, to screen me from the

attack of robbers, this person went on with me as far as the Roman

frontier.]

In the meantime, however, the troubles in France were so rapidly

increasing from hour to hour, that it became impossible for the

Government to carry any of their plans into effect. This particular one,

on the very eve of its accomplishment, was marred, as it was imagined, by

the secret intervention of the friends of Mirabeau. The Government

became more and more infirm and wavering in its purposes; the Princess

was left without instructions, and under such circumstances as to expose

her to the supposition of having trifled with the good-will of Their

Majesties of England.

In this dilemma I was sent off from England to the Queen of France. I

left Her Highness at Bath, but when I returned she had quitted Bath for

Brighton. I am unacquainted with the nature of all the papers she

received, but I well remember the agony they seemed to inflict on her.

She sent off a packet by express that very night to Windsor.

The Princess immediately began the preparations for her return. Her own

journal is explicit on this point of her history, and therefore I shall

leave her to speak for herself. I must not, however, omit to mention the

remark she made to me upon the subject of her reception in Great Britain.

With these, let me dismiss the present chapter.

"The general cordiality with which I have been received in your country,"

said Her Highness, "has made a lasting impression upon my heart. In

particular, never shall I forget the kindness of the Queen of England,

the Duchess of Devonshire, and her truly virtuous mother, Lady Spencer.

It gave me a cruel pang to be obliged to undervalue the obligations with

which they overwhelmed me by leaving England as I did, without giving

them an opportunity of carrying their good intentions, which, I had

myself solicited, into effect. But we cannot command fate. Now that the

King has determined to accept the Constitution (and you know my

sentiments upon the article respecting ecclesiastics), I conceive it my

duty to follow Their Majesties' example in submitting to the laws of the

nation. Be assured, 'Inglesina', it will be my ambition to bring about

one of the happiest ages of French history. I shall endeavour to create

that confidence so necessary for the restoration to their native land of

the Princes of the blood, and all the emigrants who abandoned the King,

their families, and their country, while doubtful whether His Majesty

would or would not concede this new charter; but now that the doubt

exists no longer, I trust we shall all meet again, the happier for the

privation to which we have been doomed from absence. As the limitation

of the monarchy removes every kind of responsibility from the monarch,

the Queen will again taste the blissful sweets she once enjoyed during

the reign of Louis XV. in the domestic tranquillity of her home at

Trianon. Often has she wept those times in which she will again rejoice.

Oh, how I long for their return! I fly to greet the coming period of

future happiness to us all!"

POSTSCRIPT:

Although I am not making myself the historian of France, yet it may not

be amiss to mention that it was during this absence of Her Highness that

Necker finally retired from power and from France.

The return of this Minister had been very much against the consent of Her

Majesty and the King. They both feared what actually happened soon

afterwards. They foresaw that he would be swept away by the current of

popularity from his deference to the royal authority. It was to preserve

the favour of the mob that he allowed them to commit the shocking murders

of M. de Foulon (who had succeeded him on his first dismission as

Minister of Louis XVI.) and of Berthier, his son-in-law. The union of

Necker with D'ORLEANS, on this occasion, added to the cold indifference

with which Barnave in one of his speeches expressed himself concerning

the shedding of human blood, certainly animated the factious assassins to

methodical murder, and frustrated all the efforts of La Fayette to save

these victims from the enraged populace, to whom both unfortunately fell

a sacrifice.

Necker, like La Fayette, when too late, felt the absurdity of relying

upon the idolatry of the populace. The one fancied he could command the

Parisian 'poissardes' as easily as his own battalions; and the other

persuaded himself that the mob, which had been hired to carry about his

bust, would as readily promulgate his theories.

But he forgot that the people in their greatest independence are only the

puppets of demagogues; and he lost himself by not gaining over that class

which, of all others, possesses most power over the million, I mean the

men of the bar, who, arguing more logically than the rest of the world,

felt that from the new Constitution the long robe was playing a losing

game, and therefore discouraged a system which offered nothing to their

personal ambition or private emolument. Lawyers, like priests, are never

over-ripe for any changes or innovations, except such as tend to their

personal interest. The more perplexed the, state of public and private

affairs, the better for them. Therefore, in revolutions, as a body, they

remain neuter, unless it is made for their benefit to act. Individually,

they are a set of necessary evils; and, for the sake of the bar, the

bench, and the gibbet, require to be humoured. But any legislator who

attempts to render laws clear, concise, and explanatory, and to divest

them of the quibbles whereby these expounders--or confounders--of codes

fatten on the credulity of States and the miseries of unfortunate

millions, will necessarily encounter opposition, direct or indirect, in

every measure at all likely to reduce the influence of this most

abominable horde of human depredators. It was Necker's error to have

gone so directly to the point with the lawyers that they at once saw his

scope; and thus he himself defeated his hopes of their support, the want

of which utterly baffled all his speculations.

[The great Frederick of Prussia, on being told of the numbers of lawyers

there were in England, said he wished he had them in his country. "Why?"

some one enquired. "To do the greatest benefit in my power to

society."--"How so?"--"Why to hang one-half as an example to the other!"]

When Necker undertook to re-establish the finances, and to reform

generally the abuses in the Government, he was the most popular Minister

(Lord Chatham, when the great Pitt, excepted) in Europe. Yet his errors

were innumerable, though possessing such sound knowledge and judgment,

such a superabundance of political contrivance, diplomatic coolness, and

mathematical calculation, the result of deep thought aided by great

practical experience.

But how futile he made all these appear when he declared the national

bankruptcy. Could anything be more absurd than the assumption, by the

individual, of a personal instead of a national guarantee of part of a

national debt?--an undertaking too hazardous and by far too ambiguous,

even for a monarch who is not backed by his kingdom--flow doubly frantic,

then, for a subject! Necker imagined that the above declaration and his

own Quixotic generosity would have opened the coffers of the great body

of rich proprietors, and brought them forward to aid the national crisis.

But he was mistaken. The nation then had no interest in his financial

system. The effect it produced was the very reverse of what was

expected. Every proprietor began to fear the ambition of the Minister,

who undertook impossibilities. The being bound for the debts of an

individual, and justifying bail in a court of law in commercial matters,

affords no criterion for judging of, or regulating, the pecuniary

difficulties of a nation. Necker's conduct in this case was, in my

humble opinion, as impolitic as that of a man who, after telling his

friends that he is ruined past redemption, asks for a loan of money. The

conclusion is, if he obtains the loan, that "the fool and his money are

soon parted."

It was during the same interval of Her Highness's stay in England, that

the discontent ran so high between the people and the clergy.

I have frequently heard the Princesse de Lamballe ascribe the King's not

sanctioning the decrees against the clergy to the influence of his aunt,

the Carmelite nun, Madame Louise. During the life of her father, Louis

XV., she nearly engrossed all the Church benefices by her intrigues. She

had her regular conclaves of all orders of the Church. From the Bishop

to the sexton, all depended on her for preferment; and, till the

Revolution, she maintained equal power over the mind of Louis XVI. upon

similar matters. The Queen would often express her disapprobation; but

the King was so scrupulous, whenever the discussion fell on the topic of

religion, that she made it a point not to contrast her opinion with his,

from a conviction that she was unequal to cope with him on that head,

upon which he was generally very animated.

It is perfectly certain that the French clergy, by refusing to contribute

to the exigencies of the State, created some of the primary horrors of

the Revolution. They enjoyed one-third the national revenues, yet they

were the first to withhold their assistance from the national wants. I

have heard the Princesse de Lamballe say, "The Princesse Elizabeth and

myself used our utmost exertion to induce some of the higher orders of

the clergy to set the example and obtain for themselves the credit of

offering up a part of the revenues, the whole of which we knew must be

forfeited if they continued obstinate; but it was impossible to move

them."

The characters of some of the leading dignitaries of the time

sufficiently explain their selfish and pernicious conduct; when churchmen

trifle with the altar, be their motives what they may, they destroy the

faith they possess, and give examples to the flock entrusted to their

care, of which no foresight can measure the baleful consequences. Who

that is false to his God can be expected to remain faithful to his

Sovereign? When a man, as a Catholic Bishop, marries, and, under the

mask of patriotism, becomes the declared tool of all work to every

faction, and is the weathercock, shifting to any quarter according to the

wind,--such a man can be of no real service to any party: and yet has a

man of this kind been by turns the primum mobile of them all, even to the

present times, and was one of those great Church fomenters of the

troubles of which we speak, who disgraced the virtuous reign of Louis

XVI.

SECTION X.

Amidst the perplexities of the Royal Family it was perfectly unavoidable

that repeated proposals should have been made at various times for them

to escape these dangers by flight. The Queen had been frequently and

most earnestly entreated to withdraw alone; and the King, the Princesse

Elizabeth, the Princesse de Lamballe, the royal children, with their

little hands uplifted, and all those attached to Marie Antoinette, after

the horrid business at Versailles, united to supplicate her to quit

France and shelter herself from the peril hanging over her existence.

Often and often have I heard the Princesse de Lamballe repeat the words

in which Her Majesty uniformly rejected the proposition. "I have no

wish," cried the Queen, "for myself. My life or death must be encircled

by the arms of my husband and my family. With them, and with them only,

will I live or die."

It would have been impossible to have persuaded her to leave France

without her children. If any woman on earth could have been justified in

so doing, it would have been Marie Antoinette. But she was above such

unnatural selfishness, though she had so many examples to encourage her;

for, even amongst the members of her own family, self-preservation had

been considered paramount to every other consideration.

I have heard the Princess say that Pope Pius VI. was the only one of all

the Sovereigns who offered the slightest condolence or assistance to

Louis XVI. and his family. "The Pope's letter," added she, "when shown

to me by the Queen, drew tears from my eyes. It really was in a style of

such Christian tenderness and princely feeling as could only be dictated

by a pious and illuminated head of the Christian Church. He implored not

only all the family of Louis XVI., but even extended his entreaties to me

[the Princesse de Lamballe] to leave Paris, and save themselves, by

taking refuge in his dominions, from the horrors which so cruelly

overwhelmed them. The King's aunts were the only ones who profited by

the invitation. Madame Elizabeth was to have been of the party, but

could not be persuaded to leave the King and Queen."

As the clouds grew more threatening, it is scarcely to be credited how

many persons interested themselves for the same purpose, and what

numberless schemes were devised to break the fetters which had been

imposed on the Royal Family, by their jailers, the Assembly.

A party, unknown to the King and Queen, was even forming under the

direction of the Princesse Elizabeth; but as soon as Their Majesties were

apprised of it, it was given up as dangerous to the interests of the

Royal Family, because it thwarted the plans of the Marquis de Bouille.

Indeed, Her Majesty could never be brought to determine on any plan for

her own or the King's safety until their royal aunts, the Princesses

Victoria and Adelaide, had left Paris.

The first attempt to fly was made early in the year 1791, at St. Cloud,

where the horses had been in preparation nearly a fortnight; but the

scheme was abandoned in consequence of having been entrusted to too many

persons. This the Queen acknowledged. She had it often in her power to

escape alone with her son, but would not consent.

The second attempt was made in the spring of the same year at Paris. The

guards shut the gates of the Tuileries, and would not allow the King's

carriage to pass. Even though a large sum of money had been expended to

form a party to overpower the mutineers, the treacherous mercenaries did

not appear. The expedition was, of course, obliged to be relinquished.

Many of the royal household were very ill-treated, and some lives

unfortunately lost.

At last, the deplorable journey did take place. The intention had been

communicated by Her Majesty to the Princesse de Lamballe before she went

abroad, and it was agreed that, whenever it was carried into effect, the

Queen should write to Her Highness from Montmedi, where the two friends

were once more to have been reunited.

Soon after the departure of the Princess, the arrangements for the fatal

journey to Varennes were commenced, but with blamable and fatal

carelessness.

Mirabeau was the first person who advised the King to withdraw; but he

recommended that it should be alone, or, at most, with the Dauphin only.

He was of opinion that the overthrow of the Constitution could not be

achieved while the Royal Family remained in Paris. His first idea was

that the King should go to the sea-coast, where he would have it in his

power instantly to escape to England, if the Assembly, through his

(Mirabeau's), means, did not comply with the royal propositions. Though

many of the King's advisers were for a distinct and open rejection of the

Constitution, it was the decided impression of Mirabeau that he ought to

stoop to conquer, and temporize by an instantaneous acceptance, through

which he might gain time to put himself in an attitude to make such terms

as would at once neutralize the act and the faction by which it was

forced upon him. Others imagined that His Majesty was too conscientious

to avail himself of any such subterfuge, and that, having once given his

sanction, he would adhere to it rigidly. This third party of the royal

counsellors were therefore for a cautious consideration of the document,

clause by clause, dreading the consequences of an 'ex abrupto' signature

in binding the Sovereign, not only against his policy, but his will.

In the midst of all these distracting doubts, however, the departure was

resolved upon. Mirabeau had many interviews with the Count Fersen upon

the subject. It was his great object to prevent the flight from being

encumbered. But the King would not be persuaded to separate himself from

the Queen and the rest of the family, and entrusted the project to too

many advisers. Had he been guided by Fersen only, he would have

succeeded.

The natural consequence of a secret being in so many hands was felt in

the result. Those whom it was most important to keep in ignorance were

the first on the alert. The weakness of the Queen in insisting upon

taking a remarkable dressing-case with her, and, to get it away

unobserved, ordering a facsimile to be made under the pretext of

intending it as a present to her sister at Brussels, awakened the

suspicion of a favourite, but false female attendant, then intriguing

with the aide-de-camp of La Fayette. The rest is easily to be conceived.

The Assembly were apprised of all the preparations for the departure a

week or more before it occurred. La Fayette, himself, it is believed,

knew and encouraged it, that he might have the glory of stopping the

fugitive himself; but he was overruled by the Assembly.

When the secretary of the Austrian Ambassador came publicly, by

arrangement, to ask permission of the Queen to take the model of the

dressing-case in question, the very woman to whom I have alluded was in

attendance at Her Majesty's toilet. The paramour of the woman was with

her, watching the motions of the Royal Family on the night they passed

from their own apartments to those of the Duc de Villequier in order to

get into the carriage; and by this paramour was La Fayette instantly

informed of the departure. The traitress discovered that Her Majesty was

on the eve of setting off by seeing her diamonds packed up. All these

things were fully known to the Assembly, of which the Queen herself was

afterwards apprised by the Mayor of Paris.

In the suite of the Count Fersen

[Alvise de Pisani, the last venetian Ambassador to the King, who was my

husband's particular friend, and with whom I was myself long acquainted,

and have been ever since to this day, as well as with all his noble

family, during my many years' residence at Venice, told me this

circumstance while walking with him at his country-seat at Stra, which

was subsequently taken from him by Napoleon, and made the Imperial palace

of the viceroy, and is now that of the German reigning Prince.]

there was a young Swede who had an intrigue purposely with one of the

Queen's women, from whom he obtained many important disclosures relative

to the times. The Swede mentioned this to his patron, who advised Her

Majesty to discharge a certain number of these women, among whom was the

one who afterwards proved her betrayer. It was suggested to dismiss a

number at once, that the guilty person might not suspect the exclusion to

be levelled against her in particular. Had the Queen allowed herself to

be directed in this affair by Fersen, the chain of communication would

have been broken, and the Royal Family would not have been stopped at

Varennes, but have got clear out of France, many hours before they could

have been perceived by the Assembly; but Her Majesty never could believe

that she had anything to fear from the quarter against which she was

warned.

It is not generally known that a very considerable sum had been given to

the head recruiting sergeant, Mirabeau, to enlist such of the

constituents as could be won with gold to be ready with a majority in

favour of the royal fugitives. But the death of Mirabeau, previous to

this event, leaves it doubtful how far he distributed the bribes

conscientiously; indeed, it is rather to be questioned whether he did not

retain the money, or much of it, in his own hands, since the strongly

hoped for and dearly paid majority never gave proof of existence, either

before or after the journey to Varennes. Immense bribes were also given

to the Mayor of Paris, which proved equally ineffective.

Had Mirabeau lived till the affair of Varennes, it is not impossible that

his genius might have given a different complexion to the result. He had

already treated with the Queen and the Princess for a reconciliation; and

in the apartments of Her Highness had frequent evening, and early

morning, audiences of the Queen.

It is pretty certain, however, that the recantation of Mirabeau, from

avowed democracy to aristocracy and royalty, through the medium of

enriching himself by a 'salva regina', made his friends prepare for him

that just retribution, which ended in a 'de profundis'. At a period when

all his vices were called to aid one virtuous action, his thread of

vicious life was shortened, and he; no doubt, became the victim of his

insatiable avarice. That he was poisoned is not to be disproved; though

it was thought necessary to keep it from the knowledge of the people.

I have often heard Her Highness say, "When I reflect on the precautions

which were taken to keep the interviews with Mirabeau profoundly secret

that he never conversed but with the King, the Queen, and myself--his

untimely death must be attributed to his own indiscreet enthusiasm, in

having confidentially entrusted the success with which he flattered

himself, from the ascendency he had gained over the Court, to some one

who betrayed him. His death, so very unexpectedly, and at that crisis,

made a deep impression on the mind of the Queen. She really believed him

capable of redressing the monarchy, and he certainly was the only one of

the turncoat constitutionalists in whom she placed any confidence. Would

to Heaven that she had had more in Barnave, and that she had listened to

Dumourier! These I would have trusted more, far more readily than the

mercenary Mirabeau!"

I now return, once more, to the journal of the Princess.

SECTION XI.

"In the midst of the perplexing debates upon the course most advisable

with regard to the Constitution after the unfortunate return from

Varennes, I sent off my little English amanuensis to Paris to bring me,

through the means of another trusty person I had placed about the Queen,

the earliest information concerning the situation of affairs. On her

return she brought me a ring, which Her Majesty had graciously,

condescended to send me, set with her own hair, which had whitened like

that of a person of eighty, from the anguish the Varennes affair had

wrought upon her mind; and bearing the inscription, 'Bleached by sorrow.'

This ring was accompanied by the following letter:

"'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--