“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,--
“‘The King has made up his mind to the acceptance of the Constitution,
and it will ere long be proclaimed publicly. A few days ago I was
secretly waited upon and closeted in your apartment with many of our
faithful friends,--in particular, Alexandre de Lameth, Duport, Barnave,
Montmorin, Bertrand de Moleville, et cetera. The two latter opposed the
King’s Council, the Ministers, and the numerous other advisers of an
immediate and unscrutinizing acceptance. They were a small minority, and
could not prevail with me to exercise my influence with His Majesty in
support of their opinion, when all the rest seemed so confident that a
contrary course must re-establish the tranquillity of the nation and our
own happiness, weaken the party of the Jacobins against us, and greatly
increase that of the nation in our favor.
“‘Your absence obliged me to call Elizabeth to my aid in managing the
coming and going of the deputies to and from the Pavilion of Flora,
unperceived by the spies of our enemies. She executed her charge so
adroitly, that the visitors were not seen by any of the household. Poor
Elizabeth! little did I look for such circumspection in one so
unacquainted with the intrigues of Court, or the dangers surrounding us,
which they would now fain persuade us no longer exist. God grant it may
be so! and that I may once more freely embrace and open my heart to the
only friend I have nearest to it. But though this is my most ardent
wish, yet, my dear, dearest Lamballe, I leave it to yourself to act as
your feelings dictate. Many about us profess to see the future as clear
as the sun at noon-day. But, I confess, my vision is still dim. I
cannot look into events with the security of others--who confound logic
with their wishes. The King, Elizabeth, and all of us, are anxious for
your return. But it would grieve us sorely for you to come back to such
scenes as you have already witnessed. Judge and act from your own
impressions. If we do not see you, send me the result of your interview
at the precipice.--[The name the Queen gave to Mr. Pitt]--‘Vostra cara
picciolca Inglesina’ will deliver you many letters. After looking over
the envelopes, you will either send her with them as soon as possible or
forward them as addressed, as you may think most advisable at the time
you receive them.
“‘Ever, ever, and forever,
“‘Your affectionate,
“‘MARIE ANTOINETTE!
“There was another hurried and abrupt note from Her Majesty among these
papers, obviously written later than the first. It lamented the cruel
privations to which she was doomed at the Tuileries, in consequence of
the impeded flight, and declared that what the Royal Family were forced
to suffer, from being totally deprived of every individual of their
former friends and attendants to condole with, excepting the equally
oppressed and unhappy Princesse Elizabeth, was utterly insupportable.
“On the receipt of these much esteemed epistles, I returned, as my duty
directed, to the best of Queens, and most sincere of friends. My arrival
at Paris, though so much wished for, was totally unexpected.
“At our first meeting, the Queen was so agitated that she was utterly at
a loss to explain the satisfaction she felt in beholding me once more
near her royal person. Seeing the ring on my finger, which she had done
me the honour of sending me, she pointed to her hair, once so beautiful,
but now, like that of an old woman, not only gray, but deprived of all
its softness, quite stiff and dried up.
“Madame Elizabeth, the King, and the rest of our little circle, lavished
on me the most endearing caresses. The dear Dauphin said to me, ‘You
will not go away again, I hope, Princess? Oh, mamma has cried so since
you left us!’
“I had wept enough before, but this dear little angel brought tears into
the eyes of us all.”
“When I mentioned to Her Majesty the affectionate sympathy expressed by
the King and Queen of England in her sufferings, and their regret at the
state of public affairs in France, ‘It is most noble and praiseworthy in
them to feel thus,’ exclaimed Marie Antoinette; ‘and the more so
considering the illiberal part imputed to us against those Sovereigns in
the rebellion of their ultramarine subjects, to which, Heaven knows, I
never gave my approbation. Had I done so, how poignant would be my
remorse at the retribution of our own sufferings, and the pity of those I
had so injured! No. I was, perhaps, the only silent individual amongst
millions of infatuated enthusiasts at General La Fayette’s return to
Paris, nor did I sanction any of the fetes given to Dr. Franklin, or the
American Ambassadors at the time. I could not conceive it prudent for
the Queen of an absolute monarchy to countenance any of their newfangled
philosophical experiments with my presence. Now, I feel the reward in my
own conscience. I exult in my freedom from a self-reproach, which would
have been altogether insupportable under the kindness of which you
speak.’
“As soon as I was settled in my apartment, which was on the same floor
with that of the Queen, she condescended to relate to me every particular
of her unfortunate journey. I saw the pain it gave her to retrace the
scenes, and begged her to desist till time should have, in some degree,
assuaged the poignancy of her feelings. ‘That,’ cried she, embracing me,
I can never be! Never, never will that horrid circumstance of my life
lose its vividness in my recollection. What agony, to have seen those
faithful servants tied before us on the carriage, like common criminals!
All, all may be attributed to the King’s goodness of heart, which
produces want of courage, nay, even timidity, in the most trying scenes.
As poor King Charles the First, when he was betrayed in the Isle of
Wight, would have saved himself, and perhaps thousands, had he permitted
the sacrifice of one traitor, so might Louis XVI. have averted calamities
so fearful that I dare not name, though I distinctly foresee them, had he
exerted his authority where he only called up his compassion.’
“‘For Heaven’s sake,’ replied I, ‘do not torment yourself by these cruel
recollections!’
“‘These are gone by,’ continued Her Majesty, and greater still than even
these. How can I describe my grief at what I endured in the Assembly,
from the studied humiliation to which the King and the royal authority
were there reduced in the face of the national representatives! from
seeing the King on his return choked with anguish at the mortifications
to which I was doomed to behold the majesty of a French Sovereign
humbled! These events bespeak clouds, which, like the horrid waterspout
at sea, nothing can dispel but cannon! The dignity of the Crown, the
sovereignty itself, is threatened; and this I shall write this very night
to the Emperor. I see no hope of internal tranquillity without the
powerful aid of foreign force.
[The only difference of any moment which ever existed between the Queen
and the Princesse de Lamballe as to their sentiments on the Revolution
was on this subject. Her Highness wished Marie Antoinette to rely on the
many persons who had offered and promised to serve the cause of the
monarchy with their internal resources, and not depend on the Princes and
foreign armies. This salutary advice she never could enforce on the
Queen’s mind, though she had to that effect been importuned by upwards of
two hundred persona, all zealous to show their penitence for former
errors by their present devotedness.
“Whenever,” observed Her Highness, “we came to that point, the Queen
(upon seriously reflecting that these persons had been active instruments
in promoting the first changes in the monarchy, for which she never
forgave them from her heart) would hesitate and doubt; and never could I
bring Her Majesty definitely to believe the profferers to be sincere.
Hence, they were trifled with, till one by one she either lost them, or
saw them sacrificed to an attachment, which her own distrust and
indecision rendered fruitless.”]
The King has allowed himself to be too much led to attempt to recover his
power through any sort of mediation. Still, the very idea of owing our
liberty to any foreign army distracts me for the consequences.’
“My reinstatement in my apartments at the Pavilion of Flora seemed not
only to give universal satisfaction to every individual of the Royal
Family, but it was hailed with much enthusiasm by many deputies of the
constituent Assembly. I was honoured with the respective visits of all
who were in any degree well disposed to the royal cause.
“One day, when Barnave and others were present with the Queen, ‘Now,’
exclaimed one of the deputies, ‘now that this good Princess is returned
to her adopted country, the active zeal of Her Highness, coupled with
Your Majesty’s powerful influence over the mind of the King for the
welfare of his subjects, will give fresh vigour to the full execution of
the Constitution.’
“My visitors were earnest in their invitations for me to go to the
Assembly to hear an interesting discussion, which was to be brought
forward upon the King’s spontaneous acceptance of the Constitution.
“I went; and amidst the plaudits for the good King’s condescension, how
was my heart lacerated to hear Robespierre denounce three of the most
distinguished of the members, who had requested my attendance, as
traitors to their country!
“This was the first and only Assembly discussion I ever attended; and how
dearly did I pay for my curiosity! I was accompanied by my ‘cara
Inglesina’, who, always on the alert, exclaimed, ‘Let me entreat Your
Highness not to remain any longer in this place. You are too deeply
moved to dissemble.’
“I took her judicious advice, and the moment I could leave the Assembly
unperceived, I hastened back to the Queen to beg her, for God’s sake, to
be upon her guard; for, from what I had just heard at the Assembly, I
feared the Jacobins had discovered her plans with Barnave, De Lameth,
Duport, and others of the royal party. Her countenance, for some
minutes, seemed to be the only sensitive part of her. It was perpetually
shifting from a high florid colour to the paleness of death. When her
first emotions gave way to nature, she threw herself into my arms, and,
for some time, her feelings were so overcome by the dangers which
threatened these worthy men, that she could only in the bitterness of her
anguish exclaim, ‘Oh! this is all on my account!’ And I think she was
almost as much alarmed for the safety of these faithful men, as she had
been for that of the King on the 17th of July, when the Jacobins in the
Champ de Mars called out to have the King brought to trial--a day of
which the horrors were never effaced from her memory!
“The King and Princesse Elizabeth fortunately came in at the moment; but
even our united efforts were unavailable. The grief of Her Majesty at
feeling herself the cause of the misfortunes of these faithful adherents,
now devoted victims of their earnestness in foiling the machinations
against the liberty and life of the King and herself, made her nearly
frantic. She too well knew that to be accused was to incur instant
death. That she retained her senses under the convulsion of her feelings
can only be ascribed to that wonderful strength of mind, which triumphed
over every bodily weakness, and still sustains her under every emergency.
“The King and the Princesse Elizabeth, by whom Barnave had been much
esteemed ever since the journey from Varennes, were both inconsolable. I
really believe the Queen entirely owed her instantaneous recovery from
that deadly lethargic state, in which she had been thrown by her grief
for the destined sacrifice, to the exuberant goodness of the King’s
heart, who instantly resolved to compromise his own existence, to save
those who had forfeited theirs for him and his family.
“Seeing the emotion of the Queen, ‘I will go myself to the Assembly,’
said Louis XVI., ‘and declare their innocence.’
“The Queen sprang forward, as if on the wings of an angel, and grasping
the King in her arms, cried, ‘Will you hasten their deaths by confirming
the impression of your keeping up an understanding with them? Gracious
Heaven! Oh, that I could recall the acts of attachment they have shown
us, since to these they are now falling victims! I would save them,’
continued Her Majesty, ‘with my own blood; but, Sire, it is useless. We
should only expose ourselves to the vindictive spirit of the Jacobins
without aiding the cause of our devoted friends.’
“‘Who,’ asked she, I was the guilty wretch that accused our unfortunate
Barnave?’
“‘Robespierre.’
“‘Robespierre!’ echoed Her Majesty. ‘Oh, God! then he is numbered with
the dead! This fellow is too fond of blood to be tempted with money. But
you, Sire, must not interfere!’
“Notwithstanding these doubts, however, I undertook, at the King’s and
Queen’s most earnest desire, to get some one to feel the pulse of
Robespierre, for the salvation of these our only palladium to the
constitutional monarchy. To the first application, though made through
the medium of one of his earliest college intimates, Carrier, the wretch
was utterly deaf and insensible. Of this failure I hastened to apprise
Her Majesty. ‘Was any, sum,’ asked she, ‘named as a compensation for
suspending this trial?’--‘None,’ replied I. ‘I had no commands to that
effect.’--‘Then let the attempt be renewed, and back it with the argument
of a cheque for a hundred thousand livres on M. Laborde. He has saved my
life and the King’s, and, as far as is in my power, I am determined to
save his. Barnave has exposed his life more than any of our unfortunate
friends, and if we can but succeed in saving him, he will speedily be
enabled to save his colleagues. Should the sum I name be insufficient,
my jewels shall be disposed of to make up a larger one. Fly to your
agent, dear Princess! Lose not a moment to intercede in behalf of these
our only true friends!’
“I did so, and was fortunate enough to gain over to my personal
entreaties one who had the courage to propose the business; and a hundred
and fifty thousand livres procured them a suspension of accusation. All,
however, are still watched with such severity of scrutiny that I tremble,
even now, for the result.
[And with reason; for all, eventually, were sacrificed upon the scaffold.
Carrier was the factotum in all the cool, deliberate, sanguinary
operations of Robespierre; when he saw the cheque, he said to the
Princesse de Lamballe: “Madame, though your personal charms and mental
virtues had completely influenced all the authority I could exercise in
favour of your protege, without this interesting argument I should not
have had courage to have renewed the business with the principal agent of
life and death.”]
“It was in the midst of such apprehensions, which struck terror into the
hearts of the King and Queen, that the Tuileries resounded with cries of
multitudes hired to renew those shouts of ‘Vive le roi! vive la famille
royale!’ which were once spontaneous.
“In one of the moments of our deepest affliction, multitudes were
thronging the gardens and enjoying the celebration of the acceptance of
the Constitution. What a contrast to the feelings of the unhappy inmates
of the palace! We may well say, that many an aching heart rides in a
carriage, while the pedestrian is happy!
“The fetes on this occasion were very brilliant. The King, the Queen,
and the Royal Family were invited to take part in this first national
festival. They did so, by appearing in their carriage through the
streets of Paris, and the Champs Elysees, escorted only by the Parisian
guard, there being no other at the time. The mob was so great that the
royal carriage could only keep pace with the foot-passengers.
“Their Majesties were in general well received. The only exceptions were
a few of the Jacobin members of the Assembly, who, even on this occasion,
sought every means to afflict the hearts, and shock the ears, of Their
Majesties, by causing republican principles to be vociferated at the very
doors of their carriage.
“The good sense of the King and Queen prevented them from taking any
notice of these insults while in public; but no sooner had they returned
to the castle, than the Queen gave way to her grief at the premeditated
humiliation she was continually witnessing to the majesty of the
constitutional monarchy,--an insult less to the King himself than to the
nation, which had acknowledged him their Sovereign.
“When the royal party entered the apartment, they found M. de Montmorin
with me, who had come to talk over these matters, secure that at such a
moment we should not be surprised.
“On hearing the Queen’s observation, M. de Montmorin made no secret of
the necessity there was of Their Majesties dissembling their feelings;
the avowal of which, he said, would only tend to forward the triumph of
Jacobinism, ‘which,’ added he, ‘I am sorry to see predominates in the
Assembly, and keeps in subordination all the public and private clubs.’
“‘What!’ exclaimed the Princesse Elizabeth, can that be possible, after
the King has accepted the Constitution?’
“‘Yes,’ said the Queen; these people, my dear Elizabeth, wish for a
Constitution which sanctions the overthrow of him by whom it has been
granted.’
“‘In this,’ observed M. de Montmorin, ‘as on some other points, I
perfectly agree with Your Majesty and the King, notwithstanding I have
been opposed by the whole Council and many other honest constituent
members, as well as the Cabinet of Vienna. And it is still, as it has
ever been, my firm opinion, that the King ought, previous to the
acceptance of the Constitution, to have been allowed, for the security of
its future organization, to have examined it maturely; which, not having
been the case, I foresee the dangerous situation in which His Majesty
stands, and I foresee, too, the non-promulgation of this charter.
Malouet, who is an honest man, is of my opinion. Duport, De Lameth,
Barnave, and even La Fayette are intimidated at the prevailing spirit of
the Jacobins. They were all with the best intentions for Your Majesty’s
present safety, for the acceptance in toto, but without reflecting on the
consequences which must follow should the nation be deceived. But I, who
am, and ever shall be, attached to royalty, regret the step, though I am
clear in my impression as to the only course which ought to succeed it.
The throne can now only be made secure by the most unequivocal frankness
of proceeding on the part of the Crown. It is not enough to have
conceded, it is necessary also to show that the concession has some more
solid origin than mere expediency. It should be made with a good grace.
Every motive of prudence, as well as of necessity, requires that the
monarch himself, and all those most interested for his safety, should,
neither in looks, manners, or conversation, seem as if they felt a regret
for what has been lost, but rather appear satisfied with what has been
bestowed.’
“‘In that case,’ said the Queen, ‘we should lose all the support of the
royalists.’
“‘Every royalist, Madame,’ replied he, ‘who, at this critical crisis,
does not avow the sentiments of a constitutionalist, is a nail in the
King’s untimely coffin.’
“‘Gracious God!’ cried the Queen; ‘that would destroy the only hope
which still flatters our drooping existence. Symptoms of moderation, or
any conciliatory measures we might be inclined to show, of our free will,
to the constitutionalists, would be immediately considered as a desertion
of our supporters, and treachery to ourselves, by the royalists.’
“‘It would be placed entirely out of my power, Madame,’ replied M. de
Montmorin, ‘to make my attachment to the persons of Your Majesties
available for the maintenance of your rights, did I permit the factious,
overbearing party which prevails to see into my real zeal for the
restoration of the royal authority, so necessary for their own future
honour, security, and happiness. Could they see this, I should be
accused as a national traitor, or even worse, and sent out of the world
by a sudden death of ignominy, merely to glut their hatred of monarchy;
and it is therefore I dissemble.’
“‘I perfectly agree with you,’ answered the Queen. That cruel moment
when I witnessed the humiliating state to which royalty had been reduced
by the constituents, when they placed the President of their Assembly
upon a level with the King; gave a plebeian, exercising his functions pro
tempore, prerogatives in the face of the nation to trample down
hereditary monarchy and legislative authority--that cruel moment
discovered the fatal truth. In the anguish of my heart, I told His
Majesty that he had outlived his kingly authority: Here she burst into
tears, hiding her face in her handkerchief.
“With the mildness of a saint, the angelic Princesse Elizabeth exclaimed,
turning to the King, ‘Say something to the Queen, to calm her anguish!’
“‘It will be of no avail,’ said the King; ‘her grief adds to my
affliction. I have been the innocent cause of her participating in this
total ruin, and as it is only her fortitude which has hitherto supported
me, with the same philosophical and religious resignation we must await
what fate destines!’
“‘Yes,’ observed M. de Montmorin; ‘but Providence has also given us the
rational faculty of opposing imminent danger, and by activity and
exertion obviating its consequences.’
“‘In what manner, sir?’ cried the Queen; ‘tell me how this is to be
effected, and, with the King’s sanction, I am ready to do anything to
avert the storm, which so loudly threatens the august head of the French
nation.’
“‘Vienna, Madame,’ replied he; ‘Vienna! Your Majesty’s presence at
Vienna would do more for the King’s safety, and the nation’s future
tranquillity, than the most powerful army.’
“‘We have long since suggested,’ said the Princesse Elizabeth, ‘that Her
Majesty should fly from France and take refuge----’
“‘Pardon me, Princess,’ interrupted M. de Montmorin, ‘it is not for
refuge solely I would have Her Majesty go thither. It is to give
efficacy to the love she bears the King and his family, in being there
the powerful advocate to check the fallacious march of a foreign army to
invade us for the subjection of the French nation. All these external
attempts will prove abortive, and only tend to exasperate the French to
crime and madness. Here I coincide with my coadjutors, Barnave, Duport,
De Lameth, etc. The principle on which the re-establishment of the order
and tranquillity of France depends, can be effected only by the
non-interference of foreign powers. Let them leave the rational
resources of our own internal force to re-establish our real interests,
which every honest Frenchman will strive to secure, if not thwarted by
the threats and menaces of those who have no right to interfere.
Besides, Madame, they are too far from us to afford immediate relief from
the present dangers internally surrounding us. These are the points of
fearful import. It is not the threats and menaces of a foreign army
which can subdue a nation’s internal factions. These only rouse them to
prolong disorders. National commotions can be quelled only by national
spirit, whose fury, once exhausted on those who have aroused it, leave it
free to look within, and work a reform upon itself.’
“M. de Montmorin, after many other prudent exhortations and remarks, and
some advice with regard to the King and Queen’s household, took his.
leave. He was no sooner gone than it was decided by the King that Marie
Antoinette, accompanied by myself and some other ladies, and the
gentlemen of the bedchamber, couriers, etc., should set out forthwith for
Vienna.
[The Princease de Lamballe sent me directions that very evening, some
time after midnight, to be at our place of rendezvous early in the
morning. I was overjoyed at the style of the note. It was the least
mysterious I had ever received from Her Highness. I inferred that some
fortunate event had occurred, with which, knowing how deeply I was
interested in the fate of her on whom my own so much depended, she was,
eager to make me acquainted.
But what was my surprise, on entering the church fixed on for the
meeting, to see the Queen’s unknown confessor beckoning me to come to
him. I approached. He bade me wait till after Mass, when he had
something to communicate from the Princess.
This confessor officiated in the place of the one whom Mirabeau had
seduced to take the constitutional oath. The Queen and Princess
confessed to him in the private apartment of Her Highness on the ground
floor; though it was never known where, or to whom they confessed, after
the treachery of the royal confessor. This faithful and worthy successor
was only known as “the known.” I never heard who he was, or what was his
name.
The Mass being over, I followed him into the sacristy. He told me that
the Princess, by Her Majesty’s command, wished me to set off immediately
for Strasburg, and there await the arrival of Her Highness, to be in
readiness to follow her and Her Majesty for the copying of the cipher, as
they were going to Vienna.
When everything, however, had been settled for their departure, which it
was agreed was to take place from the house of Count Fersen, the
resolution was suddenly changed; but I was desired to hold myself in
readiness for another journey.]
“To say why this purpose was abandoned is unnecessary. The same
fatality, which renders every project unattainable, threw insuperable
impediments, in the way of this.”