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 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.
[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.]
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.