_The Day of the Tenth of August--Tocsin sounded early in the
Morning--Swiss Guards, and relics of the Royal Party, repair to
the Tuileries--Mandat assassinated--Dejection of Louis, and
energy of the Queen--King's Ministers appear at the Bar of the
Assembly, stating the peril of the Royal Family, and requesting
a Deputation might be sent to the Palace--Assembly pass to the
Order of the Day--Louis and his Family repair to the
Assembly--Conflict at the Tuileries--Swiss ordered to repair to
the King's Person--and are many of them shot and dispersed on
their way to the Assembly--At the close of the Day almost all of
them are massacred--Royal Family spend the Night in the Convent
of the Feuillans._
The King had, since the insurrection of the 20th of June, which
displayed how much he was at the mercy of his enemies, renounced almost
all thoughts of safety or escape. Henry IV. would have called for his
arms--Louis XVI. demanded his confessor. "I have no longer any thing to
do with earth," he said; "I must turn all my thoughts on Heaven." Some
vain efforts were made to bribe the leaders of the Jacobins, who took
the money, and pursued, as might have been expected, their own course
with equal rigour. The motion for the declaration of the King's
forfeiture[235] still lingered in the Convention, its fate depending
upon the coming crisis. At length the fatal Tenth of August approached,
being the day which, after repeated adjournments, had been fixed by the
Girondists and their rivals for the final rising.
The King was apprised of their intention, and had hastily recalled from
their barracks at Courbe-Voie about a thousand Swiss guards, upon whose
fidelity he could depend. The formidable discipline and steady demeanour
of these gallant mountaineers, might have recalled the description given
by historians, of the entrance of their predecessors into Paris under
similar circumstances, the day before the affair of the Barricades, in
the reign of Henry II.[236] But the present moment was too anxious to
admit of reflections upon past history.
[Sidenote: TENTH OF AUGUST.]
Early on the morning of the 10th of August, the tocsin rung out its
alarm-peal over the terrified city of Paris, and announced that the
long-menaced insurrection was at length on foot. In many parishes the
Constitutional party resisted those who came to sound this awful signal;
but the well-prepared Jacobins were found every where victorious, and
the prolonged mournful sound was soon tolled out from every steeple in
the metropolis.[237]
To this melancholy music the contending parties arranged their forces
for attack and defence, upon a day which was doomed to be decisive.
The Swiss guards got under arms, and repaired to their posts in and
around the palace. About four hundred grenadiers of the loyal section of
Filles Saint Thomas, joined by several from that of Les Petits Pères, in
whom all confidence could justly be reposed, were posted in the interior
of the palace, and associated with the Swiss for its defence. The relics
of the Royalist party, undismayed at the events of the 28th of February
in the year preceding,[238] had repaired to the palace on the first
signal given by the tocsin. Joined to the domestic attendants of the
royal family, they might amount to about four hundred persons. Nothing
can more strongly mark the unprepared state of the court, than that
there were neither muskets nor bayonets for suitably arming these
volunteers, nor any supply of ammunition, save what the Swiss and
national grenadiers had in their pouches. The appearance also of this
little troop tended to inspire dismay rather than confidence. The
chivalrous cry of "Entrance for the Noblesse of France," was the signal
for their filing into the presence of the royal family. Alas! instead of
the thousand nobles whose swords used to gleam around their monarch at
such a crisis, there entered but veteran officers of rank, whose
strength, though not their spirit, was consumed by years, mixed with
boys scarce beyond the age of children, and with men of civil
professions, several of whom, Lamoignon Malesherbes for example, had now
for the first time worn a sword. Their arms were as miscellaneous as
their appearance. Rapiers, hangers, and pistols, were the weapons with
which they were to encounter bands well provided with musketry and
artillery.[239] Their courage, however, was unabated. It was in vain
that the Queen conjured, almost with tears, men aged fourscore and
upwards, to retire from a contest where their strength could avail so
little. The veterans felt that the fatal hour was come, and, unable to
fight, claimed the privilege of dying in the discharge of their
duty.[240]
The behaviour of Marie Antoinette was magnanimous in the highest degree.
"Her majestic air," says Peltier, "her Austrian lip, and aquiline nose,
gave her an air of dignity, which can only be conceived by those who
beheld her in that trying hour."[241] Could she have inspired the King
with some portion of her active spirit, he might even at that extreme
hour have wrested the victory from the Revolutionists; but the
misfortunes which he could endure like a saint, he could not face and
combat like a hero; and his scruples about shedding human blood wellnigh
unmanned him.[242]
The distant shouts of the enemy were already heard, while the gardens of
the Tuileries were filled by the successive legions of the national
guard, with their cannon. Of this civic force, some, and especially the
artillerymen, were as ill-disposed towards the King as was possible;
others were well inclined to him; and the greater part remained
doubtful. Mandat, their commander, was entirely in the royal interests.
He had disposed the force he commanded to the best advantage for
discouraging the mutinous, and giving confidence to the well-disposed,
when he received an order to repair to the municipality for orders. He
went thither accordingly, expecting the support of such
Constitutionalists as remained in that magistracy, but he found it
entirely in possession of the Jacobin party. Mandat was arrested, and
ordered a prisoner to the Abbaye, which he never reached, being pistoled
by an assassin at the gate of the Hôtel de Ville. His death was an
infinite loss to the King's party.[243]
A signal advantage had, at the same time, been suffered to escape.
Pétion, the Brissotin Mayor of Paris, was now observed among the
national guards. The Royalists possessed themselves of his person, and
brought him to the palace, where it was proposed to detain this popular
magistrate as an hostage. Upon this, his friends in the Assembly moved
that he should be brought to the bar, to render an account of the state
of the capital. A message was despatched accordingly requiring his
attendance, and Louis had the weakness to permit him to depart.
The motions of the assailants were far from being so prompt and lively
as upon former occasions, when no great resistance was anticipated.
Santerre, an eminent brewer, who, from his great capital, and his
affectation of popular zeal, had raised himself to the command of the
suburb forces, was equally inactive in mind and body, and by no means
fitted for the desperate part which he was called on to play.[244]
Westerman, a zealous republican, and a soldier of skill and courage,
came to press Santerre's march, informing him, that the Marseillois and
Breton Federates were in arms in the Place du Carousel, and expected the
advance of the pikemen from the suburbs of Saint Antoine and St.
Marçeau. On Santerre's hesitating, Westerman placed his sword-point at
his throat, and the citizen commandant, yielding to the nearer terror,
put his bands at length in motion. Their numbers were immense. But the
real strength of the assault was to lie on the Federates of Marseilles
and Bretagne, and other provinces, who had been carefully provided with
arms and ammunition. They were also secure of the gens-d'armes, or
soldiers of police, although these were called out and arranged on the
King's side. The Marseillois and Bretons were placed at the head of the
long columns of the suburb pikemen, as the edge of an axe is armed with
steel, while the back is of coarser metal to give weight to the blow.
The charge of the attack was committed to Westerman.
[Sidenote: DEJECTION OF LOUIS.]
In the meantime, the defenders of the palace advised Louis to undertake
a review of the troops assembled for his defence. His appearance and
mien were deeply dejected, and he wore, instead of a uniform, a suit of
violet, which is the mourning colour of sovereigns. His words were
broken and interrupted, like the accents of a man in despair, and void
of the energy suitable to the occasion. "I know not," he said, "what
they would have from me--I am willing to die with my faithful
servants--Yes, gentlemen, we will at length do our best to resist."[245]
It was in vain that the Queen laboured to inspire her husband with a
tone more resolved--in vain that she even snatched a pistol from the
belt of the Comte d'Affray, and thrust it into the King's hand, saying,
"Now is the moment to show yourself as you are."[246] Indeed, Barbaroux,
whose testimony can scarce be doubted, declares his firm opinion, that
had the King at this time mounted his horse, and placed himself at the
head of the national guards, they would have followed him, and succeeded
in putting down the Revolution.[247] History has its strong parallels,
and one would think we are writing of Margaret of Anjou, endeavouring in
vain to inspire determination into her virtuous but feeble-minded
husband.
Within the palace, the disposition of the troops seemed excellent, and
there, as well as in the courts of the Tuileries, the King's address was
answered with shouts of "Vive le Roi!" But when he sallied out into the
garden, his reception from the legions of the national guard was at
least equivocal, and that of the artillerymen, and of a battalion from
Saint Marçeau, was decidedly unfavourable. Some cried, "Vive la
nation!"[248] Some, "Down with the tyrant!" The King did nothing to
encourage his own adherents, or to crush his enemies, but retired to
hold counsel in the palace, around which the storm was fast gathering.
[Sidenote: CONDUCT OF THE MINISTRY.]
It might have been expected that the Assembly, in which the
Constitutionalists possessed so strong a majority as to throw out the
accusation against La Fayette by a triumphant vote, might now, in the
hour of dread necessity, have made some effort to save the crown which
that constitution recognised, and the innocent life of the prince by
whom it was occupied. But fear had laid strong possession upon these
unworthy and ungenerous representatives. The ministers of the King
appeared at the bar, and represented the state of the city and of the
palace, conjuring the Assembly to send a deputation to prevent
bloodshed. This was courageous on the part of those faithful servants;
for to intimate the least interest in the King's fate, was like the
bold swimmer who approaches the whirlpool caused by the sinking of a
gallant vessel. The measure they proposed had been resorted to on the
20th June preceding, and was then successful, even though the deputation
consisted of members the most unfriendly to the King. But now, the
Assembly passed to the order of the day, and thereby left the fate of
the King and capital to chance, or the result of battle.[249]
In the meantime, the palace was completely invested. The bridge adjacent
to the Tuileries, called the Pont Royale, was occupied by the
insurgents, and the quai on the opposite side of the river was mounted
with cannon, of which the assailants had about fifty pieces, served by
the most determined Jacobins; for the artillerymen had, from the
beginning, embraced the popular cause with unusual energy.
At this decisive moment Rœderer, the procureur-general syndic, the
depositary and organ of the law, who had already commanded the Swiss and
armed Royalists not to make any offensive movement, but to defend
themselves when attacked, began to think, apparently, that his own
safety was compromised, by this implied grant of permission to use arms,
even in defence of the King's person. He became urgent with the King to
retire from the palace, and put himself under the protection of the
National Assembly. The Queen felt at once all the imbecility and
dishonour of throwing themselves as suppliants on the protection of a
body, which had not shown even a shadow of interest in their safety,
surrounded as they knew the royal family to be with the most inveterate
enemies. Ere she consented to such infamy, she said, she would willingly
be nailed to the walls of the palace.[250] But the counsel which
promised to avert the necessity of bloodshed on either part, suited well
with the timorous conscience and irresolution of Louis. Other measures
were hastily proposed by those who had devoted themselves to secure his
safety. There was, however, no real alternative but to fight at the head
of his guards, or to submit himself to the pleasure of the Assembly, and
Louis preferred the latter.[251]
His wife, his sister, and his children, accompanied him on this
occasion; and the utmost efforts of an escort of three hundred Swiss and
national grenadiers were scarce able to protect them, and a small
retinue, consisting of the ministers and a few men of rank, the
gleanings of the most brilliant court of Christendom, who accompanied
their master in this last act of humiliation, which was, indeed, equal
to a voluntary descent from his throne. They were, at every moment of
their progress, interrupted by the deadliest threats and imprecations,
and the weapons of more than one ruffian were levelled against them.
The Queen was robbed even of her watch and purse--so near might the
worst criminals approach the persons of the royal fugitives.[252] Louis
showed the greatest composure amidst all these imminent dangers. He was
feeble when called upon to kill, but strong in resolution when the
question was only to die.[253]
The King's entrance into the Assembly was not without dignity. "My
family and I are come among you," he said, "to prevent the commission of
a great crime." Vergniaud, who was president at the time, answered with
propriety, though ambiguously. He assured the King, that the Assembly
knew its duties, and was ready to perish in support of them. A member of
the Mountain[254] observed, with bitter irony, that it was impossible
for the Assembly to deliberate freely in presence of the monarch, and
proposed he should retreat into one of the most remote committee
rooms--a place where assassination must have been comparatively easy.
The Assembly rejected this proposal, alike insulting and insidious, and
assigned a box, or small apartment, called the Logographe, used for the
reporters of the debates, for the place of refuge of this unhappy
family. This arrangement was scarce made, ere a heavy discharge of
musketry and cannon announced that the King's retreat had not prevented
the bloodshed he so greatly feared.[255]
It must be supposed to have been Louis's intention, that his guards and
defenders should draw off from the palace, as soon as he himself had
abandoned it; for to what purpose was it now to be defended, when the
royal family were no longer concerned; and at what risk, when the
garrison was diminished by three hundred of the best of the troops,
selected as the royal escort? But no such order of retreat, or of
non-resistance, had, in fact, been issued to the Swiss guards, and the
military discipline of this fine corps prevented their retiring from an
assigned post without command. Captain Durler is said to have asked the
Maréchal Mailly for orders, and to have received for answer, "Do not
suffer your posts to be forced." "You may rely on it," replied the
intrepid Swiss.[256]
Meantime, to give no unnecessary provocation, as well as on account of
their diminished numbers, the court in front of the palace was
abandoned, and the guards were withdrawn into the building itself; their
outermost sentinels being placed at the bottom of the splendid
staircase, to defend a sort of barricade which had been erected there,
ever since the 20th June, to prevent such intrusions as distinguished
that day.
The insurgents, with the Marseillois and Breton Federates at their
heads, poured into the court-yard without opposition, planted their
cannon where some small buildings gave them advantage, and advanced
without hesitation to the outposts of the Swiss. They had already tasted
blood that day, having massacred a patrol of Royalists, who, unable to
get into the Tuileries, had attempted to assist the defence, by
interrupting, or at least watching and discovering, the measures adopted
by the insurgents. These men's heads were, as usual, borne on pikes
among their ranks.
[Sidenote: CONFLICT AT THE TUILERIES.]
They pushed forward, and it is said the Swiss at first offered
demonstrations of truce. But the assailants thronged onward, crowded on
the barricade, and when the parties came into such close collision, a
struggle ensued, and a shot was fired. It is doubtful from what side it
came, nor is it of much consequence, for, on such an occasion, that body
must be held the aggressors who approach the pickets of the other, armed
and prepared for assault; and although the first gun be fired by those
whose position is endangered, it is no less defensive than if discharged
in reply to a fire from the other side.
This unhappy shot seems to have dispelled some small chance of a
reconciliation between the parties. Hard firing instantly commenced from
the Federates and Marseillois, whilst the palace blazed forth fire from
every window, and killed a great many of the assailants. The Swiss,
whose numbers were now only about seven hundred men, determined,
notwithstanding, upon a sally, which, in the beginning, was completely
successful. They drove the insurgents from the court-yard, killed many
of the Marseillois and Bretons, took some of their guns, and turning
them along the streets, compelled the assailants to actual flight, so
that word was carried to the National Assembly that the Swiss were
victorious. The utmost confusion prevailed there; the deputies upbraided
each other with their share in bringing about the insurrection; Brissot
showed timidity; and several of the deputies, thinking the guards were
hastening to massacre them, attempted to escape by the windows of the
hall.[257]
If, indeed, the sally of the Swiss had been supported by a sufficient
body of faithful cavalry, the Revolution might have been that day
ended.[258] But the gens-d'armes, the only horsemen in the field, were
devoted to the popular cause, and the Swiss, too few to secure their
advantage, were obliged to return to the palace, where they were of new
invested.
Westerman posted his forces and artillery with much intelligence, and
continued a fire on the Tuileries from all points. It was now returned
with less vivacity, for the ammunition of the defenders began to fail.
At this moment D'Hervilly arrived from the Assembly, with the King's
commands that the Swiss should cease firing, evacuate the palace, and
repair to the King's person. The faithful guards obeyed at once, not
understanding that the object was submission, but conceiving they were
summoned elsewhere, to fight under the King's eye. They had no sooner
collected themselves into a body, and attempted to cross the garden of
the Tuileries, than, exposed to a destructive fire on all sides, the
remains of that noble regiment, so faithful to the trust assigned to it,
diminished at every step; until, charged repeatedly by the treacherous
gens-d'armes, who ought to have supported them, they were separated into
platoons, which continued to defend themselves with courage, even till
the very last of them was overpowered, dispersed, and destroyed by
multitudes. A better defence against such fearful odds scarce remains on
historical record--a more useless one can hardly be imagined.[259]
The rabble, with their leaders the Federates, now burst into the palace,
executing the most barbarous vengeance on the few defenders who had not
made their escape; and, while some massacred the living, others, and
especially the unsexed women who were mingled in their ranks, committed
the most shameful butchery on the corpses of the slain.[260]
Almost every species of enormity was perpetrated upon that occasion
excepting pillage, which the populace would not permit, even amid every
other atrocity.[261] There exist in the coarsest minds, nay, while such
are engaged in most abominable wickedness, redeeming traits of
character, which show that the image of the Deity is seldom totally and
entirely defaced even in the rudest bosoms. An ordinary workman of the
suburbs, in a dress which implied abject poverty, made his way into the
place where the royal family were seated, demanding the King by the name
of Monsieur Veto. "So you are here," he said, "beast of a Veto! There is
a purse of gold I found in your house yonder. If you had found mine, you
would not have been so honest."[262] There were, doubtless, amongst that
dreadful assemblage many thousands, whose natural honesty would have
made them despise pillage, although the misrepresentations by which they
were influenced to fury easily led them to rebellion and murder.
Band after band of these fierce men, their faces blackened with powder,
their hands and weapons streaming with blood, came to invoke the
vengeance of the Assembly on the head of the King and royal family, and
expressed in the very presence of the victims whom they claimed, their
expectations and commands how they should be dealt with.
[Sidenote: FALL OF THE MONARCHY.]
Vergniaud, who, rather than Brissot, ought to have given name to the
Girondists, took the lead in gratifying the wishes of these dreadful
petitioners. He moved, 1st, That a National Convention should be
summoned. 2d, That the King should be suspended from his office. 3d,
That the King should reside at the Luxembourg palace under safeguard of
the law,--a word which they were not ashamed to use. These proposals
were unanimously assented to.[263]
An almost vain attempt was made to save the lives of that remaining
detachment of Swiss which had formed the King's escort to the Assembly,
and to whom several of the scattered Royalists had again united
themselves. Their officers proposed, as a last effort of despair, to
make themselves masters of the Assembly, and declare the deputies
hostages for the King's safety. Considering the smallness of their
numbers, such an attempt could only have produced additional bloodshed,
which would have been ascribed doubtless to the King's treachery. The
King commanded them to resign their arms, being the last order which he
issued to any military force. He was obeyed; but, as they were instantly
attacked by the insurgents, few escaped slaughter, and submission
preserved but a handful. About seven hundred and fifty fell in the
defence, and after the storm of the Tuileries. Some few were saved by
the generous exertions of individual deputies--others were sent to
prison, where a bloody end awaited them--the greater part were butchered
by the rabble, so soon as they saw them without arms. The mob sought for
them the whole night, and massacred many porters of private families,
who, at Paris, are generally termed Swiss, though often natives of other
countries.
The royal family were at length permitted to spend the night, which, it
may be presumed, was sleepless, in the cells of the neighbouring convent
of the Feuillans.[264]
Thus ended, for the period of twenty years and upwards, the reign of
the Bourbons over their ancient realm of France.
FOOTNOTES:
[234] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 172.
[235] "The question of abdication was discussed with a degree of frenzy.
Such of the deputies as opposed the motion were abused, ill-treated, and
surrounded by assassins. They had a battle to fight at every step they
took; and at length they did not dare to sleep in their
houses."--MONTJOIE.
[236] Thus imitated by the dramatist Lee, from the historian Davila:--
"Have you not heard--the King, preventing day,
Received the guards within the city gates;
The jolly Swisses marching to their pipes,
The crowd stood gaping heedless and amazed,
Shrunk to their shops, and left the passage free."--S.
[237] M. de Staël, tom. ii., p. 59.
[238] When they were, in similar circumstances, maltreated by the
national guard.--See _ante_, p. 119.--S.
[239] "M. de St. Souplet, one of the King's equerries, and a page,
instead of muskets, carried upon their shoulders the tongs belonging to
the King's ante-chamber, which they had broken and divided between
them."--MAD. CAMPAN. vol. ii., p. 246.
[240] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 201.
[241] Dernier Tableau de Paris, tom. i., p. 176.
[242] "The King ought then to have put himself at the head of his
troops, and opposed his enemies. The Queen was of this opinion, and the
courageous counsel she gave on this occasion does honour to her
memory."--M. DE STAËL, tom. ii., p. 60.
"This invasion of the 10th of August, was another of those striking
occasions on which the King, by suddenly changing his character, and
assuming firmness, might have recovered his throne. The mass of the
French people were weary of the excesses of the Jacobins, and the
outrage of the 20th of June roused the general indignation. Had he
ordered the clubs of the Jacobins and Cordeliers, to be shut up,
dissolved the Assembly, and seized upon the factions, that day had
restored his authority: but this weak prince, unmindful that the safety
of his kingdom depended upon the preservation of his own authority,
chose rather to expose himself to certain death, than give orders for
his defence."--DUMONT, p. 362.
[243] Mignet, tom. i., p. 190; Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 208.
[244] "The muscular expansion of his tall person, the sonorous
hoarseness of his voice, his rough manners, and his easy and vulgar
eloquence, made him, of course, a hero among the rabble. In truth, he
had gained a despotic empire over the dregs of the Fauxbourgs. He could
excite them at will; but that was the extent of his skill and
capacity."--MONTJOIE, _Hist. de Marie Antoinette_, p. 295.
[245] "I was at a window looking on the garden. I saw some of the
gunners quit their posts, go up to the King, and thrust their fists in
his face, insulting him by the most brutal language. He was as pale as a
corpse. When the royal family came in again, the Queen told me that all
was lost; that the King had shown no energy, and that this sort of
review had done more harm than good."--MAD. CAMPAN, vol. ii., p. 245.
[246] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 214.
[247] Mémoires de Barbaroux, p. 69.
[248] "And I," exclaimed the King, "I, too, say '_Vive la Nation_!'--its
happiness has ever been the dearest object of my heart."--LACRETELLE,
tom. ix., p. 214.
[249] Prudhomme, tom. iii., p. 198; Mad. Campan, vol. ii., p. 247.
[250] "'Oui,' disait-elle à MM. de Briges et de Saint Priest,
'j'aimerais mieux me faire clouer aux murs du château que de choisir cet
indigne refuge.'"--LACRETELLE, tom. ix., p. 216.
[251] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 219; Mad. Campan, vol. ii., p. 247.
[252] Mad. Campan, vol. ii., p. 429; Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 220.
[253] "The Queen told me, that the King had just refused to put on the
under-waistcoat of mail which she had prepared for him; that he had
consented to wear it on the 14th of July, because it was merely going to
a ceremony, where the blade of an assassin was to be apprehended; but
that, on a day in which his party might have to fight against the
revolutionists, he thought there was something cowardly in preserving
his life by such means."--MAD. CAMPAN, vol. ii., p. 243.
[254] Chabot.
[255] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 223.
[256] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 227.
[257] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 231; Mignet, tom. i., p. 195; Thiers,
tom. ii., p. 263.
[258] "S'il y avait eu trois cents cavaliers fidèles pour marcher à la
poursuite des rebelles, Paris était soumis au roi, et l'Assemblée
tombait aux pieds de son captif."--LACRETELLE, tom. ix., p. 230.
[259] Lacretelle, tom. ix., p. 233; Toulongeon, tom. ii., p. 253.
[260] "L'histoire ne peut dire les obscènes et atroces mutilations que
d'impudiques furies firent subir aux cadavres des Suisses."--LACRETELLE,
tom. ix., p. 240.
[261] Prudhomme, tom. iii., p. 202; but see Lacretelle, tom. ix., p.
241.
[262] Mémoires de Barbaroux. "L'anecdote," says Lacretelle, "est fausse;
mais quelle fiction atroce!" tom. ix., p. 243.
[263] Mignet, tom. i., p. 195; Thiers, tom. i., p. 263; Lacretelle, tom.
ix., p. 244.
[264] "For fifteen hours the royal family were shut up in the short-hand
writer's box. At length, at one in the morning, they were transferred to
the Feuillans. When left alone, Louis prostrated himself in prayer. 'Thy
trials, O God! are dreadful; give us courage to bear them. We bless thee
in our afflictions, as we did in the day of prosperity: receive into thy
mercy all those who have died fighting in our defence.'"--LACRETELLE,
tom. ix., p. 250.
"The royal family remained three days at the Feuillans. They occupied a
small suite of apartments, consisting of four cells. In the first were
the gentlemen who had accompanied the King. In the second we found the
King: he was having his hair dressed; he took two locks of it, and gave
one to my sister and one to me. In the third was the Queen, in bed, and
in an indescribable state of affliction. We found her attended only by a
bulky woman, who appeared tolerably civil; she waited upon the Queen,
who, as yet, had none of her own people about her. I asked her Majesty
what the ambassadors from foreign powers had done under existing
circumstances? She told me that they could do nothing, but that the lady
of the English ambassador had just given her a proof of the private
interest she took in her welfare by sending her linen for her
son."--MAD. CAMPAN, vol. ii., p. 259.
"At this frightful period, Lady Sutherland," [the present Duchess and
Countess of Sutherland,] "then English ambassadress at Paris, showed the
most devoted attentions to the royal family."--MAD. DE STAËL, tom. ii.,
p. 69.