Henceforth, for the next six months, the Dauphin is to be immured in his prison, and no one is to penetrate within; the door of his cell is to be bolted and barred, and food is to be ministered to him through a grille. The four Commissioners of the Commune entrusted with his care will take it turn about to spy at him through the peep-hole in the door, but none of them will set foot inside.
What are we to think of this confinement? What was the meaning of it? We feel that it is out of the question at this time of day to formulate any clear-cut explanation of it. So great an air of mystery hangs over all that happened in the Temple during this year of 1794 and down to June 8, 1795, that it would be vain to attempt to elucidate this imbroglio of deeds plotted in the dark, and performed by actors each of whom played his part independently of the others. The various personages mixed up in them were so situated that they could not see the goal towards which they were called upon to work. What we desire to do, with the help of the correspondence at our disposal, is to show that Lady Atkyns was the leading spirit of a Royalist Committee, formed for the purpose of securing the Dauphin’s escape, and that not only his escape was practicable, thanks to the intervention of people high in authority—probably of Barras—but that it was, in fact, carried out.
A sort of bureau had been instituted at Paris for turning to account the sources of information contrived within the Temple, and for keeping au courant with the prison regulations and the methods adopted for watching over the Royal captive. There was a house in Rue Basse-du-Rempart in which M. Cormier lived formerly, and which, on setting out for La Vendée, he left to the care of his wife.[67] In this house they had a pied à terre ready to their hands, and in Mme. Cormier, née de Butler, a person on whom they could absolutely rely, active-minded, enterprising, the very person of all others to help the projects of the Royalists in London. It is she who, during these first weeks of the year 1794, will be keeping her husband and his friends au courant with all she can find out about the Dauphin and his gaolers, and the way in which he and his now numerous partisans in Paris are kept under watch. It is impossible for her, we may be sure, to correspond direct with London, and we are in the dark as to her methods of communication; but in these days there are any number of couriers carrying news and despatches from the Continent to England. Soon, to avoid suspicion and work in greater safety, Mme. Cormier, henceforth referred to always by her maiden name, will secure a decree of divorce from her husband on the ground that he is émigré, thus apparently breaking up all connection with the former president of the Club Massiac.[68] Had she not had her name removed already, a year earlier, from the ill-fated list of émigrés?
It is time for us now to make fuller acquaintance with the members of this circle of intimate friends surrounding Lady Atkyns, and concentrating all their efforts upon the furthering of her plans.
Two figures stand out conspicuously: M. de Cormier and the Chevalier de Frotté. These alone have been let into the secret of the first operations; these alone can claim to have full knowledge of the desires and hopes of the Queens friend. Cormier, “our big friend,” as he is designated in their correspondence, is a strong support. His experience, his good sense, his relations with the English Government, inspire confidence at first sight in all who are brought into contact with the corpulent Breton, and all are quickly won over by the charm of his fluent and persuasive speech. Despite authentic certificates of residence, according to which his son has not quitted Holstein, where he is by way of pursuing his studies during this and the following year, the ex-magistrate has not been willing to forego his son’s companionship, and there are constant allusions to him in his letters. A prey to frequent attacks of gout, Cormier requires to have some one at hand to look after him affectionately.
Frotté, a man of some intellect, with a fine presence and a martial air about him, and with the advantage of being acquainted with the recent happenings in Normandy and La Vendée, is well fitted for helping Lady Atkyns in her plans. He also has been able to get into intimate relations with the Government, to secure a hearing for his views, and thus to acquire real influence. In these two men Lady Atkyns possesses powerful lieutenants, who henceforth will be indispensable to her, and to whom she will have to unfold her ideas impartially and equally. For while each of them is eager to devote himself entirely to her enterprise, little by little, imperceptibly almost, and according as difficulties crop up in their path, feelings of jealousy and envy will make themselves evident between the two.
By length of service, and by reason of so many tender remembrances therewith connected, Frotté considers himself entitled to the premier place in the confidence and regard of his fair friend. His letters are full of burning affection and admiration for her, to whom he is ready to sacrifice everything.
“It is only in your society,” he writes, “that I am my real self. You are in possession of all my secrets, and you share all those feelings which cause me to have any joy in life and for which none the less I should be ready to die. Adieu! Do you understand me? What am I to think of the heroine to whom I devote my entire future and who may make all my life’s happiness? Do you understand me? Adieu! If I speak to ears and to a heart that refuse to listen to me ... then I am not at the end of my troubles. Oh, most charming of women, whatever may be the outcome of this Revolution of ours—even though you should have no share in it—you will ever be in my eyes the tender and devoted friend of Antoinette, the woman who would have sacrificed everything for the Queen’s son, the woman to whom I would fain owe all my happiness.”[69]
Side by side with these two men we find a third individual, whose name recurs very often in the conversation, and who will also play his part. The Baron d’Auerweck, the “little baron,” comes to offer his services to Lady Atkyns, and to profit by her generosity, which he knows to be inexhaustible. He is not to be admitted into all the secrets of the committee—he is to be spoken to in general terms. D’Auerweck, with his philosophical whims and unceasing chatter, bombards his benefactress with his letters, in which he retails to her all the rumours current in London regarding the child in the Temple. On intimate terms with the journalist Peltier, d’Auerweck acts as his collaborator, so to speak, keeping him au courant with the progress of the enterprise as far as he is in a position to do so.
Finally, there is the Bishop of Saint-Pol-de-Léon. The bishop has not broken off his relations with the indefatigable lady, for whom he professes an immense admiration. His assistance is by no means to be despised, for among the ever-increasing crowds of émigrés now pressing to London there are quite a number of persons who are under obligations to him. When Lady Atkyns leaves Ketteringham and comes to stay for a time among her friends, we find the venerable prelate visiting her on several occasions.[70]