The Countess De Charny - Volume II (17 page)

The second party of fugitives consisted of about thirty soldiers and gentlemen under command of Monsieur Forestier de Saint-Venant. Hemmed in on all sides at the entrance to the Champs Ely sees, their leader resolved they should sell their lives as dearly as possible. Sword in hand, he, with his thirty followers armed with bayonets, charged three successive times upon the battalion stationed at the foot of the statue. In these three assaults he lost fifteen men. With the remaining fifteen he endeavoured to fight his way through the enemy’s ranks, and so reach the Champs Elysees; but a volley of musketry killed eight men; the remaining seven scattered, but were pursued and cut down by the gendarmes. Saint-Venant was taking refuge in the Ambassadors’ Café, when a gendarme gal-lopped up and wounded the unfortunate leader in the loins with a pistol-shot.

The third division, consisting of about sixty men, reached the Champs Elysees, and tried to make its way towards Courbevoie, with the same instinct which leads pigeons back to the dovecot, or sheep back to the sheep-fold. Their regular barracks were at Courbevoie, and it was from there that they had been summoned to tlie palace; they were speedily surrounded by the mounted gendarmes and the populace, and taken to the city hall, where they hoped to find protection; but two or three thousand infuriated rioters assembled on the Place de Grève,

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tore tliem from their escort, and slaughtered them iu cold blood.

One young nobleman, the Chevalier Charles d’Autichamp, rushed from the palace, and down the Hue de l’Echelle, with a pistol in each hand. Two men tried to stop him, but he killed both of them. The mob rushed upon him, and dragged him to the Place de Grève in order to put him to death in a more deliberate and brutal manner.

Fortunately, they forgot to search him. He had a knife, and he opened it in his pocket so as to have it in readiness at any moment. Just as he and his captors reached the square in front of the city-hall, the slaughter of the sixty Swiss began; and, this diverting the attention of his guards, he slew those nearest him with two blows of his knife, and made his escape through the crowd.

The hundred Swiss who conducted the king to the Assembly, and then took refuge at the Feuillant Club, were afterwards disarmed. These, with the five hundred whose fate we have described, and a few fugitives like Charles d’Autichamp, were the only men who escaped from the palace alive.

The rest were killed in the vestibule, on the stairway, or in the various apartments, and even in the chapel.

Nine hundred dead bodies of Swiss Guards and noblemen strewed the floor of the Tuileries.

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CHAPTER XVIII.

FROM SIX TO NINE IN THE EVENING.

The mob entered the palace “with very much the same feeling that a hunter enters the den of a wild beast, as was evident from the cries of: “Death to the wolf! Death to the wolf ! Death to their cubs ! ” which resounded on every side.

Had they met the king, or the queen, or the dauphin, they would have slain all three of them, if possible, at a single blow, and honestly believed, probably, that they were only administering justice.

In the absence of those whom they were pursuing, — and for whom they vainly searched in cupboards, behind tapes-tries, and under beds , — they vented their fury upon inanimate as well as animate things, killing and destroying with the same ferocity.

It will be seen that we do not exonerate the people. On the contrary, we show them to the reader besmirched and bloody as they were. We must, however, do them the justice to say that they left the palace with hands bloody, it is true, but empty.

Peltier, who certainly cannot be accused of undue partiality towards the patriots, tells us that a wine-merchant, named Mallet, brought to the Assembly one hundred and seventy -three louis found on a priest slain in the palace ; that twenty-five of the insurgents brought in a trunk filled with tlie king’s plate; that one sans culotte threw a cross of the Order of St. Louis on the presiding officer’s desk, and another deposited a watch belonging to a Swiss in the same place. Another brought in a big roll of assignats; another, a bag of coin; while others brought in jewels and

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diamonds, and finally a casket belonging to the queen, and containing fifteen hundred louis.

This same historian adds ironically, — not in the least suspecting that he is paying these men a magnificent compliment, —

“And the Assemhhj expressed its regret at not knowing the names of the modest citizens icho thus came and intrusted to its care these valuables stolen from the king.””

We are not disposed to flatter the populace. We know-that they are the most ungrateful, capricious, and inconstant of masters; and, consequently, we relate their crimes as well as their virtuous deeds.

That day they were monsters. They slaughtered their fellowmen with delight. Persons were thrown alive out of windows; the dead and dying were disembowelled; hearts were torn out, and squeezed between both hands like sponges ; and on that day, persons who would have considered themselves disgraced by stealing a watch, abandoned themselves to the terrible delights of vengeance and cruelty.

Nevertheless, in the midst of this torture of the living and desecration of the dead, they sometimes showed compassion like the sated lion.

Madame de Tarente, Madame de la Koche-Amyon, Madame de Ginestous, and Mademoiselle Pauline de Tourzel remained at the Tuileries, abandoned by the queen. When the palace was taken , they could hear the shrieks of the dying and the threats of the victors. Soon they heard footsteps approaching. Madame de Tarente went and opened the door.

“Come in,” said she; “we are only women.”

The victors entered with smoking guns and bloody sabres. The women fell on their knees.

The murderous blades were already circling above their heads, when a man with a long beard, sent by Petion, shouted from the doorway, “Spare the women! Don’t disgrace the nation ! ” And the command was obeyed.

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The queen had said to Madame Campan, “Wait for me. I shall return or send for you to rejoin me. Heaven only knows where ! “

So Madame Campan waited. She admits herself that she completely lost her wits from fright, and that, missing her sister, — who had hidden behind a curtain or some article of furniture, — she went downstairs in the hope of finding her there, but found only two of the chambermaids and a huge Hungarian, one of the queen’s footmen.

On seeing this man, Madame Campan, excited as she was, realised that his peril was far greater than her own.

“Flee, flee, unfortunate man, flee!” she cried. “The other lackeys went long ago ! Flee before it is too late ! “

He attempted to rise, but falling back again, exclaimed plaintively, ” Alas ! alas ! I cannot ! I cannot ! I am half dead with fright ! “

Even as he spoke, a crowd of intoxicated and bloodstained men burst into the room, and, falling upon the Hungarian, tore him in pieces then and there.

Madame Campan and the two maids fled by a private stairway; but several of the men pursued, and soon over-took them.

The two maids , who had fallen upon their knees, begged for mercy, grasping the blades of the sabres all the while.

Madame Campan, overtaken at the head of the stairs, felt herself seized in a powerful grasp, and saw the blade of a sabre glittering above her head. She even calculated the brief interval which was likely to separate life from eternity, — an interval which, however short it may be, always contains a host of recollections, — when, from the foot of the stairs, a stern voice demanded, “What are you doing up there? The women are not to be killed ! Do you understand that?”

Madame Campan was on her knees, and the sabre was already circling around her head.

” Get up, you hussy ! The nation spares you ! ” cried her executioner.

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Meanwhile, what was the king doing in the Logographe box?

He became hungry, and called for his dinner. They accordingly brought him bread, wine, a chicken, some cold veal, and fruit.

Like all the Bourbons, as well as Henry IV. and Louis XIV. , this monarch was a great eater. Behind the emo-tions of the soul, the two great exigencies of the body, sleep and hunger, were continually clamouring. We have seen him sleeping in the palace; now we see him eating in the Assembly.

The king broke his bread and carved his chicken without paj-ing the slightest attention to the curious eyes riveted upon him.

Among these eyes there were two that burned intolerably; for the relief of tears was denied them. These eyes were the queen’s. She declined all food. It seemed to her that with her feet in Charny’s precious blood she could remain there forever, and live like a graveyard flower, Avith no nourishment save that she received from death.

She had suffered terribly on the return trip from Varennes, and during her captivity in the Tuileries. She had suffered much during the previous day and night; but never had she suffered as she was suffering now.

The situation was certainly desperate enough to deprive any man except the king of all desire for food. The deputies, to whom the monarch had come for protection, felt that they themselves needed protection, and did not conceal their alarm.

That morning the Assembly had endeavoured to prevent the murder of Suleau, but in vain. At two o’clock the Assembly attempted to prevent the massacre of the Swiss Guards, and failed in that attempt also.

Now they themselves were threatened with death at the hands of an infuriated mob shouting, “Abdication ! abdication!” or, “Depose him! depose him!”

A committee, of which Vergniaud was made a member,

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was appointed. He resigned the presidency to Guadet, in order not to allow the power to escape from the hands of the Girondists even for an hour. The deliberations of this committee were, however, of short duration, conducted as they were amid the roar of cannon and sharp rattle of musketry.

It was Vergniaud who indited an act for the temporary suspension of royalty.

He re-entered the Assembly visibly depressed and disheartened; for this was the last pledge of respect for royalty he could give as a subject, or of hospitality as a host.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “in behalf of the committee, I ojQîer for your consideration a very rigorous measure; but your alarm and intense regret at the present unfortunate condition of affairs will tell you how important it is to the welfare of the country that it should be promptly adopted.

“The iSTational Assembly considers the danger of the country at its height, and believes that the evils from which our land is now suffering arise mainly from a deeply rooted distrust of our chief executive by reason of the war recently undertaken in his name against the Constitution and French independence, and that said distrust has aroused a very general desire for the revocation of the authority delegated to Louis XVI.

“And, furthermore, believing that the National Assem- ])ly can reconcile its fidelity to the Constitution with its resolve to be buried under the ruins of the Temple of Liberty, rather than allow it to perish, only by appealing to the sovereignty of the people, and by taking effectual measures to prevent any possibility of further treachery, the committee recommends : —

“That, the French people be invited to elect a National Ci invention;

“That the Chief Execntive he suspended from tlie functions of his office until the National Convention has made its will known ;

“That the payment of the Kinç‘s civil list also he suspended;

” That the King and royal family remain within the precincts of the Assembly until tranquillity has been restored in the city of Paris ;

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” That the Luxembourg Palace be prepared for the occupancy of the royal family ;

“And that every public official and soldier who abandons his post in this hour of danger be declared a traitor to his country.”

The king listened to this decree with his usual immobility; then, leaning over the railing of the box and addressing Vergniaud, who had resumed his seat in the presiding othcer’s chair, he said: —

” Do you know that what you are doing is unconstitutional? “

” Very possibly, Sire ; but it is the only means left for saving your life. If we do not grant the people’s demand for your déposai, they will certainly kill you.”

The king made a movement of the head and shoulders which signified, “That is quite possible,” and sank back in his seat.

At that very instant the clock above his head struck the hour. The king counted every vibration, and when the last one died away, he remarked, “Nine o’clock! “

Several officials entered to conduct the king and queen to the temporary lodgings which had been prepared for them near by. The king made a gesture signifying that he wished to remain a while longer; for the business on hand was of considerable interest to him, it being the selection of a new ministry.

The Minister of War, the Minister of the Interior, and the Minister of Finance were soon nominated. They were the same men recently dismissed by the king, — Roland, Clavieres, and Servan.

Danton received the portfolio of Justice, Monge that of the Navy, and Lebrun that of Foreign Affairs.

When the nomination of the last minister was made, the king remarked, “Now, let us go; ” and he arose and passed out first.

The queen followed him. She had not taken any nourishment since she left the Tuileries, — not even so much as a glass of water.

The apartments which had been prepared for the royal

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family were in the upper story of the old monastery adjoining the Riding School, and occupied by the Feuillants. They had been occupied by Recorder Camus, and consisted of four rooms.

In the first, which was really oiily an ante-room, were quartered the king’s attendants who had remained faithful to him in his adversity. These were the Prince de Poix, Baron d’Aubier, Monsieur de Saint-Pardon, Monsieur de Goguelat, Monsieur de Chamillé, and Monsieur Hue.