HOW THEY SET OUT.
This was the third or fourth time that the date of departure had been
altered.
They had determined to depart on the 11th, but having refused to take
Madame de Rochereul, _femme-de-chambre_ to the Dauphin, and mistress
of M. de Gouvion, aide-de-camp to Lafayette, and who was now on duty
till the 12th, they thought that it was imprudent to depart on that
day.
On the 13th of June, the Austrians began to advance on the French
frontier, and to occupy posts two leagues from Montmedy.
The departure was postponed until the 15th following.
On the evening of the 15th, the King set out with the royal family,
in a plain carriage, the berlin awaiting them at Bondy.
If the King did not arrive at Bondy at two o’clock, it was arranged
that it should be taken for granted that he had been stopped at the
Tuileries or at the barrier.
In that case, it was arranged that the person in charge of the
berlin should set out alone, and not stop till he arrived at
Pont-de-Somme-Vesles; and when there, that he should inform M. de
Choiseul that the project had failed.
M. de Choiseul would then tell M. Dandouins, M. de Damas, M. de
Bouillé, and each would provide for their own safety.
M. de Bouillé received these new instructions, and arranged
accordingly.
M. de Choiseul set out at the same time for Paris.
At Paris, M. de Choiseul awaited the orders of the King, and started
twelve hours in advance.
The men and horses belonging to M. de Choiseul would stay at Varennes
from the 18th.
On the 19th, fresh and renovated, they would pass through Varennes,
and put up at a farm, half-way between Varennes and Neuvilly. One
must call to mind that there was no post at Varennes.
On the arrival of the King, they would take the place of the
post-horses from Clermont, and conduct the royal family to Dun.
On his return, M. de Choiseul, who, as we said, preceded the
King by twelve hours, would take command of the forty hussars at
Pont-de-Somme-Vesles. At Pont-de-Somme-Vesles he would await the
King, and would escort him to St. Menehould. At St. Menehould the
hussars would give place to the dragoons, and be left to block the
road.
After the King, no one would be allowed to pass.
After twenty-four hours the road would be left clear, for by that
time the King would be beyond the frontier.
M. de Choiseul had orders signed by the King, authorizing him to
demand the needful number of men. Six hundred louis d’or were
distributed by him to the soldiers.
On the 14th of June, M. de Bouillé, who was in Hungary, received a
letter from the King.
The departure is postponed for twenty-four hours. Whence came this
new delay?
We will tell you: the reason was a serious one.
The King did not receive his quarterly income until the 20th; and
being economical, he did not wish to lose it.
This reason, good as it was, made M. de Bouillé despair.
In fact it made it necessary to give fresh orders all along the line.
Instead of two days, the relays would have to wait three; the same
with the troops.
On the 20th of June, M. de Bouillé advanced to Stenay, where he found
the Royal Germans.
We have already seen that, on the same day, the hussars arrived at
St. Menehould, announcing the arrival of the dragoons.
We know, through M. Drouet, what a sensation their unexpected
appearance created.
We have seen another hussar detachment arrive at Varennes, causing
little less sensation than their brothers-in-arms did at St.
Menehould.
* * * * *
Let us now turn our attention to Paris, and see what was going on
these last few days.
We have already said that the Queen managed the diplomacy. She
diplomatised wonderfully.
Firstly, she had used the white horses which drew the funeral car of
M. Voltaire.
Secondly, on the 19th, she took a stroll with the Dauphin on the
outer boulevards.
Thirdly, on the 20th, she said to M. Montmorin, Minister of Foreign
Affairs, “Have you seen Madame Elizabeth? She causes me pain. I
wished her to accompany me in the procession of the Fête Dieu, and
she refuses me.”
On the same day, meeting a commander of the National Guard, “Well,
monsieur,” said she, laughing, “do they still speak of the flight of
the King from Paris?”
“No, Madame,” replied the commander; “they are too well convinced of
the King’s love for the Constitution and for his people.”
“They are right,” replied the Queen.
On the 17th, M. Moustier, ex-garde du corps, had been accosted by an
unknown whilst he was walking in the Tuileries.
The unknown had invited him to follow him in the name of the King.
M. Moustier had obeyed. Ten minutes afterwards he was in the presence
of the King.
Louis XVI saluted him by name.
The garde du corps, astonished, bowed.
“I know you, monsieur,” said the King, “and feel assured that I can
count upon you; that is why I am now addressing you.”
“Whatever your wishes may be, I hope I shall prove myself worthy of
your confidence, sire.”
“Think you that I can count equally well on your two friends, De
Valory and De Malden?”
“I am assured of it, sire.”
“Well, tell them to have made vests of chamois leather, trousers of
hide, jack-boots, and velvet caps.”
The choice of chamois leather was most imprudent, as it was the color
of the Prince de Condé, when he emigrated.
M. de Moustier was then asked to walk every evening on the Pont
Royal. There, a confidential servant, who knew him by sight, would
bring him the last orders of the King.
On the evening of the 19th, M. Moustier received the following order:—
“M. de Moustier and his companions are desired to be in the court of
the Château to-morrow, at nine o’clock in the evening; they will then
learn what is required of them.”
Now, about the passport. We know that the Queen travelled under
the name of the Baroness de Korff. The two children were the
Dauphin and Madame Royal; the intendant was the King; and the two
_femmes-de-chambre_ Mesdames de Neuville and Brunier.
That did not comprise, it is true, Madame Elizabeth, or M. d’Agout,
whom M. de Bouillé had recommended the King to take with him, but
they were obliged to trust something to chance.
On the morning of the 20th, M. Moustier presented his two companions
to the King.
M. Malden was to take the name of Jean, M. de Moustier the name of
Melchior, and M. Valory the name of François. As for M. de Choiseul,
he awaited the orders of the King at his house, Rue d’Artois, on the
20th. Up to three o’clock, he had heard nothing, and he ought to
start twelve hours in advance of the King. He began to despair, when
a servant entered to say that a messenger had arrived from the Queen.
He ordered the messenger to be shown up.
The fellow entered. He had a great hat thrust over his eyes, and was
wrapped in an immense cloak.
It was the Queen’s hair-dresser, the famous Léonard, who has left his
memoirs to posterity. He was a personage of the utmost importance.
“What, Léonard! It was not you whom I expected; but, since you are
come, make yourself at home.”
“It is not my fault if I have kept you waiting, M. le Comte; but it
is but ten minutes since I left the Queen to come here.”
“And she has told you nothing, given you no message?” cried the
Count, astonished.
“She told me to take all her diamonds, and bring you this letter.”
“Well, well—give it me!”
M. de Choiseul read the letter.
It was long, and full of instructions. It announced that they would
leave punctually to the moment.
As to the Comte de Choiseul, it commanded him to set out that
instant, begging him to take Léonard with him, who, continued Marie
Antoinette, had orders to obey him as he would herself.
M. de Choiseul read aloud that recommendation to Léonard, who made a
lowly obeisance.
He then burnt the letter.
At this moment one of the Comte’s servant entered.
“The carriage awaits M. le Comte,” said he.
“Come, my dear Léonard—come!” said the young gentleman.
“Why should I come?” cried the stupefied hair-dresser.
“Why should you? Are you not to obey me as you would the Queen? Come!
I command you!”
“But her Majesty’s diamonds?”
“You will bring them with you.”
“Where?”
“Where we are going.”
“But where are we going?”
“A few leagues from here, where we have to fulfil a most particular
and important mission.”
“Impossible, M. le Comte!” cried Léonard, drawing himself back with
affright.
“Léonard, you forget that her Majesty said that you were to obey me
as you would herself.”
He then assisted the despairing hair-dresser to mount into the
cabriolet, and lashed the horse into full speed in the direction of
the Petite Vilette.
At the same hour that M. de Choiseul passed the barrier the three
guards were admitted to the presence of the King, and then shut up in
an ante-chamber.
At ten o’clock M. de Lafayette was announced.
He was attended by MM. de Gouvion and De Romeuf, his aides-de-camp.
Madame de Rochereul, his mistress, had told him that the flight was
arranged for the same night.
The Queen and Madame Elizabeth had gone in the evening, without an
escort, to promenade in the Bois de Boulogne.
M. de Lafayette, with the exquisite politeness which was one of his
characteristics, asked the Queen if she had enjoyed her stroll; and
added, “Your Majesty was wrong to stay out so late.”
“Why so, sir?” asked the Queen.
“Because the evening fog might do you an injury.”
“What! a fog in the middle of June?” said she. “In truth, unless I
manufactured one on purpose to hide our flight, which people talk so
much about, I do not know where I should find one.”
“The fact is, madame,” replied the General, “people not only talk
about your flight, but I have received information that it will take
place this evening.”
“Ah!” said the Queen; “I engage that it is M. de Gouvion who has
given you that good news.”
“Why I, madame?” said the young officer, blushing.
“I do not know,” replied the Queen, “except that, perhaps, you hear
a great deal more than is true at the château. Wait! Here is M.
Romeuf, who hears no news; I am sure he will contradict the rumor.”
“There is no great credit in doing that, madame,” said the young man,
“when the King has given his word to the Assembly not to leave Paris.”
At ten o clock, General Lafayette and his aides-de-camp retired.
When they were gone, the Queen and Madame Elizabeth summoned their
domestics to perform the necessary offices of their toilettes, and at
eleven, as was their custom, they retired for the night.
The doors shut, each commenced to dress.
The Queen and Madame Elizabeth assisted each other. They had some
plain dresses, and hats, with hoods, to hide the face.
They had scarcely finished their disguise, when the King entered, in
his costume of intendant.
For the last eight days, the King’s valet, Hue, had been in the habit
of going out in the costume the King now wore, and by the same door
the King intended to depart from. This was done in order to accustom
the sentinel to a man dressed in gray.
On arriving, he released the three guards from their hiding-place.
Madame Royale was ready, but the Dauphin was not. He had been
awakened from his first sleep; and so, for the sake of disguise, it
had been arranged to dress him like a girl. He made all sorts of
objections to the humiliating costume.
He asked, “If he were intended to act in a comedy?” They replied
“Yes.” And as he liked comedies, he allowed them to finish his
toilette.
The gardes du corps received their last instructions.
They were to travel as far as Bondy on M. de Fersen’s horses; after
that they were to take post.
They had calculated that, if they went at a moderate rate, they would
be at Châlons in twelve or fourteen hours. They approached the door,
and listened. All was silent.
Let us see with what difficulties they encompassed themselves.
Firstly, against M. de Bouillé’s advice, who proposed two English
diligences, the Queen had had made two enormous berlins, in which she
might put her trunks, boxes and bags.
Then, in place of having a courier in simple livery, there were three
gardes du corps, in the livery of the Prince de Condé.
Then, in place of choosing three men who knew the route, they chose
three who had never travelled that way before.
Then, in place of hiding the King, who was supposed to be Madame de
Korff’s steward, in the other carriage, he was placed face to face
and knee to knee, with his pretended mistress, in the principal
conveyance.
Then, in place of having the carriages drawn by two, or even four,
horses, they must needs have six, not remembering that the King alone
is allowed to have that number.
Then, in place of arming the gardes du corps to the teeth, they give
them small hunting-knives for use, and locked up the pistols and
other implements of warfare in the trunk, covered with red, bordered
with gold, the same as the King used at Cherbourg.
Then, in place of taking M. d’Agout, that resolute man who knew the
route, and whom M. de Bouillé had recommended, they take Madame
Tourzel, the children’s governess, who claimed the place by etiquette
that D’Agout would have won by devotion.
Taking all in all, every precaution was taken.
_Quos vult perdere Jupiter prius dementat._