Marie Antoinette and Her Son Part 19

Wherever I shall be, Margaret, if the call of the queen comes to me, I shall follow it, even if I know that death lurks at the door behind which the queen awaits me. We stand before a dark and tempestuous time, and our country is to be torn with fearful strife.

All pa.s.sions are unfettered, all want to fight for freedom, and against the chains with which the royal government has held them bound. An abyss has opened between the crown and the nation, and the States-General and the Third Estate will not close it, but only widen it. I tell you, Margaret, dark days are approaching; I see them coming, and I cannot, for your sake, withdraw from them, for I am the soldier of the queen. I must keep guard before her door, and, if I cannot save her, I must die in her service. Know this, Margaret, but know, too, that I love you. Let me repeat, that from you alone all fortune and happiness can come to me, and then do you decide. Will you, after all that I have told you, still accept my hand, which I offer you in tenderest affection? Will you be my wife, knowing that my life belongs not to you alone, but still more to another? Will you share with me the dangers of a stormy time, of an inevitable future with me, and devote yourself with, me to the service of the queen? Examine yourself, Margaret, before you answer.

Do not forget your great and n.o.ble heart; consider that it is a vast sacrifice to devote your life to a man who is prepared every hour to give his life for another woman--to leave the one he loves, and to go to his death in defence of his queen. Prove your heart; and, if you find that the sacrifice is too great, turn your face away from me, and I will quickly go my way--will not complain, will think that it happens rightly, will love you my whole life long, and thank you for the pleasant hours which your love has granted to me."

He had dropped from the divan upon his knee, and looked up to her with supplicating and anxious eyes. But Margaret did not turn her face away from him. A heavenly smile played over her features, her eye beamed with love and emotion. And as her glance sank deep into the heart of her lover, he caught the look as if it had been a ray of sunlight. She laid her arms upon his shoulders, and pressing his head to her bosom, she bowed over him and kissed his black, curly hair.

"Ah! I love you, Louis," she whispered. "I am ready to devote my life to you, to share your dangers with you, and in all contests to stand by your side. Soldier of the queen, in me you shall always have a comrade. With you I will fight for her, with you die for her, if it must be. We will have a common love for her, we will serve her in common, and with fidelity and love thank her for the good which she has done to you and your father."

"Blessings upon you, Margaret!" cried Toulan, as breaking into tears he rested his head upon the knee of his affianced. "Blessings on you, angel of my love and happiness!" Then he sprang up, and, drawing the young girl within his arms, he impressed a glowing kiss upon her lips.

"That is my betrothal kiss, Margaret; now you are mine; in this hour our souls are united in never-ending love and faithfulness. Nothing can separate us after this, for we journey hand in hand upon the same road; we have the same great and hallowed goal! Now come, my love, let us take our place before the altar of G.o.d, and testify with an oath to the love which we cherish toward our queen!"

He offered her his arm, and, both smiling, both with beaming faces, left the room, and joined the wedding guests who had long been waiting for them with growing impatience. They entered the carriages and drove to the church. With joyful faces the bridal pair pledged their mutual fidelity before the altar, and their hands pressed one another, and their eyes met with a secret understanding of all that was meant at that wedding. They both knew that at that moment they were pledging their fidelity to the queen, and that, while seeming to give themselves away to each other, they were really giving themselves to their sovereign.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, they left the church of St. Louis to repair to the wedding dinner, which Councillor Bugeaud had ordered to be prepared in one of the most brilliant restaurants of Versailles.

"Will you not tell me now, my dear son," he said to Toulan--"will you not tell me now why you wish so strongly to celebrate the wedding in Versailles, and not in Paris, and why in the church of St. Louis?"

"I will tell you, father," answered Toulan, pressing the arm of his bride closer to his heart. "I wanted here, where the country erects its altar, where in a few days the nation will meet face to face these poor earthly majesties; here, where in a few days the States- General will convene, to defend the right of the people against the prerogative of the sovereign, here alone to give to my life its new consecration. Versailles will from this time be doubly dear to me. I shall owe to it my life's happiness as a man, my freedom as a citizen. They have done me the honor in Rouen to elect me to a place in the Third Estate, and as, in a few days, the a.s.sembly of the Nation will meet here in Versailles, I wanted my whole future happiness to be connected with the place. And I wanted to be married in St. Louis's church, because I love the good King Louis. He is the true and sincere friend of the nation, and he would like to make his people happy, if the queen, the Austrian, would allow it."

"Yes, indeed," sighed the councillor, who, in spite of his relation to Madame de Campan, belonged to the opponents of the queen--" yes, indeed, if the Austrian woman allowed it. But she is not willing that France should be happy. Woe to the queen; all our misery comes from her!

CHAPTER IX.

THE OPENING OF THE STATES-GENERAL.

On the morning of the 5th of May, 1789, the solemn opening of the States-General of France was to occur at Versailles. This early date was appointed for the convocation of the estates, in order to be able to protract as much as possible the ceremonial proceedings. But at the same time this occasion was to be improved in preparing a sensible humiliation for the members of the Third Estate.

In the avenue of the Versailles palace a large and fine hall was fixed upon as the most appropriate place for receiving the twelve hundred representatives of France, and a numerous company of spectators besides; and, being chosen, was appropriately fitted up.

Louis XVI. himself, who was very fond of sketching and drawing architectural plans, had busied himself in the most zealous way with the arrangements and decorations of the hall.

It had long been a matter of special interest to the king to fit up the room which was to receive the representatives of the nation, in a manner which would be worthy of so significant an occasion. He had himself selected the hangings and the curtains which were to protect the audience from the too glaring light of the day.

When the members of the Third Estate arrived, they saw with the greatest astonishment that they were not to enter the hall by the same entrance which was appropriated to the representatives of the n.o.bility and the clergy, who were chosen at the same time with themselves. While for the last two the entrance was appointed through the main door of the hall, the commoners were allowed to enter by a rear door, opening into a dark and narrow corridor, where, crowded together, they were compelled to wait till the doors were opened.

Almost two hours elapsed before they were allowed to pa.s.s out of this dark place of confinement into the great hall, at a signal from the Marquis de Brize, the master of ceremonies.

A splendid scene now greeted their eyes. The Salle de Menus, which had been fitted up for the reception of the n.o.bility, displayed within two rows of Ionic pillars, which gave to the hall an unwonted air of dignity and solemnity. The hall was lighted mainly from above, through a skylight, which was covered with a screen of white sarcenet. A gentle light diffused itself throughout the room, making one object as discernible as another. In the background the throne could be seen on a richly ornamented estrade and beneath a gilded canopy, an easy-chair for the queen, tabourets for the princesses, and chairs for the other members of the royal family. Below the estrade stood the bench devoted to the ministers and the secretaries of state. At the right of the throne, seats had been placed for the clergy, on the left for the n.o.bility; while in front were the six hundred chairs devoted to the Third Estate.

The Marquis de Brize, with two a.s.sistant masters of ceremonies, now began to a.s.sign the commoners to their seats, in accordance with the situation of the districts which they represented.

As the Duke d'Orleans appeared in the midst of the other deputies of Crespy, there arose from the amphitheatre, where the spectators sat, a gentle sound of applause, which increased in volume, and was repeated by some of the commoners, when it was noticed that the duke made a clergyman, who had gone behind him in the delegation from this district, go in front of him, and did not desist till the round-bellied priest had really taken his place before him. In the mean time the bench of the ministers had begun to fill. They appeared as a body, clothed in rich uniforms, heavy with gold. Only one single man among them appeared in simple citizen's clothing, and bearing himself as naturally as if he were engaged in business of the state, or in ordinary parlor conversation, and by no means as if taking part in an extraordinary solemnity. As soon as he was seen, there arose on all sides, as much in the a.s.sembly as on the tribune, a movement as of joy which culminated in a general clapping of hands.

The man who received this salutation was the newly-appointed minister of finance, Necker, to whom the nation was looking for a reestablishment of its prosperity and of its credit.

Necker manifested only by a thoughtful smile, which mounted to his earnest, thought-furrowed face, that he was conscious to whom the garland of supreme popularity was extended at this moment.

Next, the deputation of Provence appeared, in the midst of which towered Count Mirabeau, with his proud, erect bearing, advancing to take the place appointed for him. His appearance was the sign for a few hands to commence clapping in a distant part of the hall, in honor of a man so much talked of in Prance, and of whom such strange things were said. But at this instant the king appeared, accompanied by the queen, followed by the princes and princesses of the royal family.

At the entrance of the king, the whole a.s.sembly broke into a loud, enthusiastic shout of applause and of joy. The Third Estate as well, at a signal from Count Mirabeau, had quickly risen, but continued to stand without bending the knee, as had been, at the last time when all the estate were a.s.sembled, the invariable rule. Only one of the representatives of the Third Estate, a young man with energetic, proud face, and dark, glowing eyes, bent his knee when he saw the queen entering behind the king. But the powerful hand of his neighbor was laid upon his shoulder and drew him quickly up.

"Mr. Deputy," whispered this neighbor to him, "it becomes the representatives of the nation to stand erect before the crown."

"It is true, Count Mirabeau," answered Toulan. "I did not bend my knee to the crown, but to the queen as, a beautiful woman."

Mirabeau made no reply, but turned his flaming eyes to the king.

Louis XVI. appeared that day arrayed in the great royal ermine, and wore upon his head a plumed hat, whose band glistened with great diamonds, while the largest in the royal possession, the so-called t.i.tt, formed the centre, and threw its rays far and wide. The king appeared at the outset to be deeply moved at the reception which had been given him. A smile, indicating that his feelings were touched, played upon his face. But afterward, when all was still, and the king saw the grave, manly, marked faces of the commoners opposite him, his manner became confused, and for an instant he seemed to tremble.

The queen, however, looked around her with a calm and self-possessed survey. Her fine eyes swept slowly and searchingly over the rows of grave men who sat opposite the royal couple, and dwelt a moment on Toulan, as if she recalled in him the young man who, two years before, had brought the message of Cardinal Rohan's acquittal. A painful smile shot for an instant over her fine features. Yes, she had recognized him; the young man who, at Madame de Campan's room, had sworn a vow of eternal fidelity to her. And now he sat opposite her, on the benches of the commoners, among her enemies, who gazed at her with angry looks. That was his way of fulfilling the vow which he had made of his own free will!

But Marie Antoinette wondered at nothing now; she had witnessed the falling away of so many friends, she had been forsaken by so many who were closely a.s.sociated with her, and who were indebted to her, that it caused her no surprise that the young man who hardly knew her, who had admired her in a fit of youthful rapture, had done like all the rest in joining the number of her enemies.

Marie Antoinette sadly let her eyes fall. She could look at nothing more; she had in this solemn moment received a new wound, seen a new deserter!

Toulan read her thoughts in her sad mien, on her throbbing forehead, but his own countenance remained cheerful and bright.

"She will live to see the day when she will confess that I am her friend, am true to her," he said to himself. "And on that day I shall be repaid for the dagger-thrusts which I have just received from her eyes. Courage, Toulan, courage! Hold up your head and be strong. The contest has begun; you must fight it through or die!"

But the queen did not raise her head again. She looked unspeakably sad in her simple, unadorned attire--in her modest, gentle bearing-- and it was most touching to see the pale, fair features which sought in vain to disclose nothing of the painful emotions of her soul.

The king now arose from his throne and removed his plumed hat. At once Marie Antoinette rose from her armchair, in order to listen standing to the address of the king.

"Madame," said the king, bowing to her lightly, "madame, be seated, I beg of you."

"Sire," answered Marie Antoinette, calmly, "allow me to stand, for it does not become a subject to sit while the king is standing."

A murmur ran through the rows of men, and loud, scornful laughter from one side. Marie Antoinette shrank back as if an adder had wounded her, and with a flash of wrath her eyes darted in the direction whence the laugh had come. It was from Philip d'Orleans.

He did not take the trouble to smooth down his features; he looked with searching, defiant gaze over to the queen, proclaiming to her in this glance that he was her death-foe, that he was bent on revenge for the scorn which she had poured out on the spendthrift- revenge for the joke which she had once made at his expense before the whole court. It was at the time when the Duke d'Orleans, spendthrift and miser at the same time, had rented the lower rooms of his palace to be used as stores. On his next appearance at Versailles, Marie Antoinette said: "Since you have become a shopkeeper, we shall probably see you at Versailles only on Sundays and holidays, when your stores are closed!" Philip d'Orleans thought of this at this moment, as he stared at the queen with his laughing face, while his looks were threatening vengeance and requital.

The king now began the speech with which he proposed to open the a.s.sembly of his estates. The queen listened with deep emotion; a feeling of unspeakable sorrow filled her soul, and despite all her efforts her eyes filled with tears, which leisurely coursed down her cheeks. When, at the close of his address, the king said that he was the truest and most faithful friend of the people, and that France had his whole love, the queen looked up with a gentle, beseeching expression, and her eyes seemed as if they wanted to say to the deputies, "I, too, am a friend of the people! I, too, love France!"

The king ended his address; it was followed by a prolonged and lively clapping of hands, and sitting down upon the chair of the throne, he covered his head with the jewelled chapeau.

At the same moment all the n.o.blemen who were in the hall put on their own hats. At once Count Mirabeau, the representative of the Third Estate, put on his hat; other deputies followed his example, but Toulan, whom Mirabeau had before hindered from kneeling--Toulan now wanted to prevent the proud democrats covering themselves in presence of the queen.

"Hats off!" he cried, with aloud voice, and here and there in the hall the same cry was repeated.

But from other sides there arose a different cry, "Hats on! Be covered!"

Scarcely had the ear of the king caught the discordant cry which rang up and down the hall, when he s.n.a.t.c.hed his hat from his head, and at once the whole a.s.sembly followed his example.

Toulan had gained his point, the a.s.sembly remained uncovered in presence of the queen.

At last, after four long, painful hours, the ceremony was ended; the queen followed the example of the king, rising, greeting the deputies with a gentle inclination of her head, and leaving the hall at the side of the king.