Marie Antoinette and the Downfall of Royalty

by Imbert de Saint-Amand

5. The King's Grand Cabinet (called later the Salon of Louis XIV.);

6. The Gallery of Diana.

There are a battalion and two companies of gendarmes in the palace, as well as the guards then on duty and those they had relieved. But as no orders are given to these troops, they either break their ranks or fraternize with the enemy. No obstacle, no resistance, is offered, and nobody defends the apartments. The assailants, who have taken a cannon as far as the first story, enter the Hall of the Hundred Swiss, whose doors are neither locked nor barricaded. They penetrate into the Hall of the Guards with the same ease. But when they try to make their way into the OEil-de-Boeuf, or King's Antechamber, the locked door of this apartment arrests their progress. This exasperates them, and one of the panels is soon broken.

Where is Louis XVI. when the invasion begins? In his bedroom with his family. It communicates with the Grand Cabinet, and has windows commanding a view of the garden. M. Acloque, chief of the second legion of the National Guard, and a faithful royalist, hastens to the King by way of the little staircase leading from the Princes' Court to the royal chamber, in order to tell him what has happened. He finds the door locked; he knocks, gives his name, urgently demands admittance, and obtains it. He advises Louis XVI. to show himself to the people. The King, whom no peril has ever frightened, does not hesitate to follow this advice. The Queen wishes to accompany her husband; but she is opposed in this and forcibly drawn into the Dauphin's chamber, which is near that of Louis XVI. Happier than the Queen,—these are her own words,—Madame Elisabeth finds nobody to tear her from the King. She takes hold of the skirts of her brother's coat. Nothing could separate them.

Louis XVI. passes into the Great Cabinet, thence into the State Bedchamber, and through it into the OEil-de-Boeuf, where he will presently receive the crowd. He is surrounded at this moment by Madame Elisabeth, three of his ministers (MM. de Beaulieu, de Lajard, and Terrier de Montciel), the old Marshal de Mouchy, Chevalier de Canolle, M. d'Hervilly, M. Guinguerlet, lieutenant-colonel of the unmounted gendarmes, and M. de Vainfrais, also an officer of gendarmes. Some grenadiers of the National Guard afterwards arrive through the Great Cabinet and the State Bedchamber. "Come here! four grenadiers of the National Guard!" cries the King. One of them says, "Sire, do not be afraid."—"I am not afraid," replies the King; "put your hand on my heart; it is pure and tranquil." And taking the grenadier's hand he presses it forcibly against his breast. The grenadier is a tailor named Jean Lalanne. Later, under the Terror, by a decree of the 12th Messidor, Year II., he will be condemned to death for having—so runs the sentence—"displayed the character of a cringing valet of the tyrant, in boasting before several citizens that Capet, taking his hand and laying it on his heart, had said to him, 'Feel, my friend, whether it palpitates.'"

"Gentlemen, save the King!" cries Madame Elisabeth. Meanwhile, the crowd is still in the next apartment, the Hall of the Guards. They are battering away with hatchets and gun-stocks at the door which opens into the King's Antechamber. Nothing but a partition separates Louis XVI. from the assailants. He orders the door to be opened. The crowd rush in. "Here I am," says Louis XVI. calmly; "I have never deviated from the Constitution."

"Citizens," says Acloque, "recognize your King and respect him; the law commands you to do so. We will all perish rather than suffer him to receive the slightest harm." M. de Canolle cries: "Long live the nation! Long live the King!" This cry is not repeated. Some one begs Madame Elisabeth to retire. "I will not leave the King," she replies, "I will not leave him." Those who surround Louis XVI. make a rampart for him of their bodies. The crowd becomes immense. It is proposed to the King that he stand on a bench in the embrasure of the central window, from which there is a view of the courtyard. Other benches and a table are placed in front of him. Madame Elisabeth takes a bench in the next window with M. de Marsilly. The hall is full. Groans, atrocious threats, and gross insults resound on every side. Some one shouts: "Down with the veto! To the devil with the veto! Recall the patriot ministers! Let him sign, or we will not go out of here!" The butcher Legendre comes forward. He asks permission to speak. Silence is obtained, and, addressing the King, he says: "Monsieur." At this unusual title, Louis XVI. make a gesture of surprise. "Yes, Monsieur," goes on Legendre, "listen to us; it is your duty to listen to us.... You are a traitor. You have always deceived us, and you deceive us still; the measure is full, and the people are tired of being made your laughing-stock." The insolent butcher, who calls himself the agent of the people, then reads a pretended petition which is a mere tissue of recriminations and threats. Louis XVI. listens with imperturbable sang-froid. He answers simply: "I will do what the Constitution and the decrees ordain that I shall do." The noise begins anew. It is a rain, a hail of insults.

Some individuals mistake Madame Elisabeth for Marie Antoinette. Her equerry, M. de Saint-Pardoux, throws himself between her and the furious wretches, who cry: "Ah! there is the Austrian woman; we must have the Austrian!" and undeceives them by naming her.—"Why did you not allow them to believe I am the Queen?" says the courageous Princess; "perhaps you might have averted a greater crime." And, putting aside a bayonet which almost touches her breast, "Take care, Monsieur," she says gently, "you might hurt somebody, and I am sure you would be sorry to do that." The shouts redouble. The confusion becomes terrible. It is with great difficulty that some grenadiers of the National Guard defend the embrasure of the window where Louis XVI. still stands immovable on his bench. Mingled with the crowd there are inoffensive persons, who have come merely out of curiosity, and even honest men who sincerely pity the King. But there are tigers and assassins as well. One of them, armed with a club ending in a sword-blade, tries to thrust it into the King's heart. The grenadiers parry the blow with their bayonets. A market porter struggles long to reach Louis XVI., against whom he brandishes a sabre. Several times the wretched monarch seeks to address the crowd. His voice is lost in the uproar. A municipal official, M. Mouchet, hoisting himself on the shoulders of two persons, demands by voice and gesture a moment's silence for the King and for himself. Vain efforts. The vociferations of the crowd only increase. Here comes a long pole on the end of which is a Phrygian cap, a bonnet rouge. The pole is inclined towards M. Mouchet. M. Mouchet takes the cap and presents it to the King, who, to please the crowd, puts it on his head.

Is it possible? That man on a bench, with the ignoble cap of a galley-slave on his head, surrounded by a drunken and tattered rabble who vomit filthy language, that man the King of France and Navarre, the most Christian King, Louis XVI.? Go back to the day of the coronation, June 11, 1775. It is just seventeen years and nine days ago! Do you remember the Cathedral of Rheims, luminous, glittering; the cardinals, ministers, and marshals of France, the red ribbons, the blue ribbons, the lay peers with their vests of cloth-of-gold, their violet ducal mantles lined with ermine; the clerical peers with cope and cross? Do you remember the King taking Charlemagne's sword in his hand, and then prostrating himself before the altar on a great kneeling-cushion of velvet sown with golden lilies? Do you see him vested by the grand-chamberlain with the tunic, the dalmatica, and the ermine-lined mantle which represent the vestments of a sub-deacon, deacon, and priest, because the King is not merely a sovereign, but a pontiff? Do you see him seizing the royal sceptre, that golden sceptre set with oriental pearls, and carvings representing the great Carlovingian Emperor on a throne adorned with lions and eagles? Do you remember the pealing of the bells, the chords of the organ, the blare of trumpets, the clouds of incense, the birds flying in the nave?