She had been sent once before on a mission from the Queen to England; and the inherent grace of the family of Savoy—the same which made the Duchess of Burgundy so powerful over Louis XIV—enabled her to obtain from the King and Queen of England a promise never to forsake the King and Queen of France.
The moment to recall that promise to the English Court had arrived. The Queen desired the Princess de Lamballe to set out for London, and continue the negotiations already so happily commenced. She therefore left Paris, and reached England, stopping at Calais, at the famous “Hotel Dessein,” immortalized by Sterne in his “Sentimental Journey.”
It was whilst in London that the Princess learnt the flight to Varennes, the return of the royal family, and their imprisonment in the Tuileries. She sent a young English girl, in whom she had the utmost confidence, to Paris.
This messenger appeared close to the Queen. She had come in the name of the Princess, to learn the exact situation in which the family were placed.
The Queen sent her a letter, and a ring, enclosing a lock of her hair, as white as if her years numbered eighty.
On the ring was inscribed, “Whitened by sorrow.”
I give, underneath, an exact copy of the letter:—
“My Very Dear Friend,—
“The King is about to accept the Constitution. In a short time, he will be solemnly proclaimed. A few days since, I held a secret consultation in your apartment, with some of our most trusty friends, among whom were Alexandre Lameth, Duport, Barnave, Montmarni, Bertrand de Malville. These two last combated against the counsel of those of the Ministry, and others, who advised the King to accept the Constitution immediately, and without restrictions; but they formed too feeble a minority for me to decide, as they wished to pray the King to pay heed to their opinion. All the others seemed to think that the contrary measure would re-establish tranquillity, weaken the party of the Jacobins, our enemies, and enlarge greatly the number of our partizans in the nation. Your absence compelled me to call Elizabeth to our aid, to clear the Pavilion of Flora of spies. She did not acquit herself very well. Poor Elizabeth! you cannot expect much cunning or circumspection in a woman so little accustomed to the intrigues of a Court, and to the dangers which surrounded us. They try to persuade us that we are in no danger. Would that it were so, and that I could again open my arms and heart freely, to receive my best friend! Although these are the most ardent aspirations of my heart, nevertheless, my dear, my very dear Lamballe, pay heed to nothing but your own inspirations. Some people say that they see the future brilliant as the sun at mid-day. For my part, I confess, it seems covered with clouds. I cannot see future events with all the security that I could wish. The King, Elizabeth, myself,—in fact, all the family—wish much to see you; but we should be horrified at the thought of dragging you into the midst of events equally fearful as those you have already witnessed.
“Reflect, then, and act as you think best. If we cannot see you, send us the result of your conferences with the Precipice.[1] Your young English friend will bring you plenty of letters. Will you have them sent to their respective addresses as quickly as possible, either by her, or in any other way that you may consider more fitting?