Marie Antoinette and Her Son Part 46

At the first notes of the trumpet the n.o.bility had hurried on the night of the 10th of August to the Tuileries, which were already filled with grenadiers, Swiss guards, and volunteers of every rank, who had hastened thither to protect the royal family. All the staircases, all the corridors and rooms, were occupied by them.

The "Chevaliers of the Dagger" marched in solemn procession by them all to the grand reception-room, where were the king, the queen, and the children. With respectful mien they approached the royal pair, imploring the king's permission to die for him, and beseeching the queen to touch their weapons, in order to make them victorious, and to allow them to kiss the royal hand, in order to sweeten death for them. There were cries of enthusiasm and loyalty on all sides, "Long live the king of our fathers!" cried the young people. "Long live the king of our children!" cried the old men, taking the dauphin in their arms and raising him above their heads, as if he were the living banner in whose defence they wished to die.

As the morning dawned, the king, at the pressing request of his wife, walked with her and the children through the halls and galleries of the palace, to reanimate the courage of their defenders who were a.s.sembled there, and to thank them for their fidelity.

Everywhere the royal family was received with enthusiasm, everywhere oaths of loyalty to death resounded through the rooms. The king then went, accompanied by a few faithful friends, down into the park, to review the battalions of the National Guard who were stationed there.

When Louis appeared, the cry, "Long live the king!" began to lose the unanimity which had characterized it in the palace. It was suppressed and overborne by a hostile murmur, and the farther the king advanced, the louder grew these mutterings; till at last, from hundreds and hundreds of throats, the thundering cry resounded, "Abdication or death! Long live Petion! Resignation or death!"

The king turned hastily around, and, with pale face and forehead covered with drops of cold sweat, he returned to the palace.

"All is lost!" cried the queen, bitterly, "Nothing more remains for us than to die worthily."

But soon she raised herself up again, and new courage animated her soul, when she saw that new defenders were constantly pressing into the hall, and that even many grenadiers of the National Guard mingled in the ranks of the n.o.bility.

But these n.o.blemen, these "Chevaliers of the Dagger," excited mistrust, and a major of the National Guard demanded their removal with a loud voice.

"No," cried the queen, eagerly, "these n.o.blemen are our best friends. Place them before the mouth of the cannon, and they will show you how death for one's king is met. Do not disturb yourselves about these brave people,"

She continued, turning to some grenadiers who were approaching her, "your interests and theirs are common.

Every thing that is dearest to you and them-wives, children, property-depends upon your courage and your common bravery."

The grenadiers extended their hands to the chevaliers, and mutual oaths were exchanged to die for the royal family, to save the throne or to perish with it. It was a grand and solemn moment, full of lofty eloquence! The hearts of these n.o.blemen and these warriors longed impatiently for death. With their hands laid upon their weapons, they awaited its coming.

The populace rolled up in great ma.s.ses to the palace. "Wild shrieks were heard, the thunder of cannon, the harsh cries of women, and the yells of men. Within the palace they listened with suspended breath.

The queen straightened herself up, grasped with a quick movement the hands of her children, drew them to herself, and, with head bent forward and with breathless expectation, gazed at the door, like a lioness awaiting her enemy, and making herself ready to defend her young with her own life.

The door was suddenly opened, and the attorney-general Roderer burst in.

"Sire," cried he, with impa.s.sioned utterance, "you must save yourself! All opposition is vain. Only the smallest part of the National Guard is still to be trusted, and even this part only waits the first pretext to fraternize with the populace. The cannoneers have already withdrawn the loading from the cannon, because they are unwilling to fire upon the people. The king has no time to lose.

Sire, there is protection for you only in the National a.s.sembly, and only the representatives of the people can now protect the royal family."

The queen uttered a cry of anger and horror. "How!" she cried. "What do you say? We seek protection with our worst enemies? Never, oh, never! Rather will I be nailed to these walls, than leave the palace to go to the National a.s.sembly!" [Footnote: The queen's own words.-- See Beauchesne, vol. i., p. 90.]

And turning to the king, who stood silent and undecided, she spoke to him with flaming words, with glowing eloquence, addressed him as the father of the dauphin, the successor of Henry IV. and Louis XIV., sought to animate his ambition and touch his heart, and tried for the last time to kindle him with her courage and her decision.

In vain, all in vain. The king remained silent and undecided. A cry, one single cry of grief, burst from the lips of the queen, and one moment her head sank upon her breast.

"Hasten, hasten, sire!" cried Roderer, "every moment increases the peril. In a quarter of an hour perhaps the queen and the children will be lost beyond remedy!"

These words awakened the king from his reverie. He looked up and nodded his head. "We can do nothing else," he said. "Let us go at once to the National a.s.sembly."

"Sir," cried the queen, turning to Roderer, "is it true that we are deserted by all?"

"Madame," answered the attorney-general, sadly, "all opposition is in vain, it will only increase the danger. Would you suffer yourself, the king, your children, and friends, to be killed?"

"G.o.d forbid it! Would that I alone could be the offering!"

"Another minute," urged Roderer, "perhaps another second, and it is impossible to guarantee your life, and perhaps that of your husband and children."

"My children!" cried the queen, throwing her arms around them, and drawing them to her breast. "No, oh no, I will not give them over to the knife!"

One sigh, one last sob, burst from her lips, and then she released herself from the children, and approached the king and his ministers.

"This is the last sacrifice," she said, heavily, "that I can offer.

I submit myself, M. Roderer," and then with louder tones, as if she wanted to call all present to be witnesses, she continued, "will you pledge yourself for the person of the king, and for that of my son?"

"Madame," answered Roderer, solemnly, "I pledge myself for this, that we are all ready to die at your side. That is all that I can promise."

And now the n.o.blemen and the grenadiers pressed up to take the king and queen in their escort.

"For G.o.d's sake," cried Roderer, "no demonstration, or the king is lost!

"Remain, my friends," said the king, stolidly, "await our return here."

"We shall soon return," said Marie Antoinette; and leading her two children, she followed the king, who walked slowly through the hall.

Princess Lamballe and Madame Tourzel brought up the rear.

It was done. The dying monarchy left the royal palace to put itself under the protection of the revolution, which was soon to give birth to the republic.

It was six o'clock in the morning when the royal family crossed the threshold of the Tuileries--in front the king, conducting Princess Elizabeth on his arm, behind him the queen with the two children.

Before leaving the palace, the king received tidings that a part of the National Guard had withdrawn, in order to protect their families and their property from an attack of the populace, and that another part had declared, itself against the king and in favor of the revolution.

Louis made his way through the seething crowd that scarcely opened to allow a free pa.s.sage for the royal family, and overwhelmed them with curses, insults, and abuse.

Some members of the National a.s.sembly went in advance, and could themselves scarcely control the raging waves of popular fury.

On the Terrace des Feuillants the people shouted, "Down with the tyrants! To death, to death with them!"

The dauphin cried aloud with fright, for the b.l.o.o.d.y hands of two yelling women were extended after him. A grenadier sprang forward, seized the boy with his strong arm, and raised him upon his shoulder.

"My son, give me back my son!" cried the queen, wildly. The grenadier bowed to her. "Do not be afraid, do you not recognize me?"

Marie Antoinette looked at him, and the hint of a smile pa.s.sed over her face. She did indeed recognize him who, like a good angel, was always present when danger and death threatened her. It was Toulan, the faithful one, by her side in the uniform of a National Guardsman.

"Courage, courage, good queen, the demons are loose, but good angels are near thee too; and where those curse and howl, these bring blessing and reconciliation."

"Down with the tyrants!" roared the savage women.

"Do not be afraid, my prince," said the grenadier, to the dauphin whom he carried upon his shoulder, in order to protect him from the thronging of the crowd. "n.o.body will hurt you."

"Not me, but my dear papa," sobbed the child, while the tears rolled over his pale cheeks.

The poor child trembled and was afraid, and how could he help it?

Even the king was terrified for a moment, and felt as if the tears were coming into his eyes. The queen too wept, dried her tears, and then wept again. The sad march consumed more than an hour, in order to traverse the bit of way to the Manege, where the National a.s.sembly met. Before the doors of this building the cries were doubled; the attorney-general harangued the mob, and sought to quiet it, and pushed the royal family into the narrow corridor, in which, hemmed in by abusive crowds, they made their way forward slowly. At last the hall doors opened, and as Marie Antoinette pa.s.sed in behind the king, Toulan gave the little dauphin to her, who flung both his arms around the neck of his mother.

A death-like silence reigned in the hall. The deputies looked with dark faces at the new-comers. No one rose to salute the king, no word of welcome was spoken.