The Countess De Charny - Volume II (18 page)

The king reserved the second room for his own use. The third was assigned to the queen. It was the only room with papered walls. On entering it, Marie Antoinette threw herself on the bed, and actually gnawed the bolster in her agony, — a prey to such anguish of mind as would make the tortures of the rack seem slight in comparison.

The two children remained with their mother.

The fourth room, though small, was allotted to Madame Elizabeth, Madame de Lamballe, and Madame de Tourzel, who established themselves in it as best they could.

The queen lacked everything, even money. Her watch had been torn from her in the mob at the door of the Assembly. She had not even a change of underclothing, — having, of course, brought nothing with her from the palace. She borrowed twenty-five louis of Madame Cam-pan’s sister, however, and sent to the British Embassy for some linen.

In the evening the Assembly caused the decree of the day to be proclaimed by torch-light throughout the city.

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CHAPTER XIX.

FROM NINE o’clock UNTIL MIDNIGHT.

As these torches were carried past the Carrousel, down the Kue Saint-Honore, and along the quays, they shone upon a lugubrious scene indeed.

History and legend enlarge upon the sufferings of the royal personages from whose brows the crown of empire was torn that day. They expatiate, too, upon the courage and devotion of the Swiss Guards and of the nobility. They have counted the drops of blood shed by those brave defenders of the monarchy, but they have not counted the corpses of the populace and the tears of the mothers, sisters, and wives among the common people; yet, in the eyes of God, the supreme Ruler of the universe, blood is blood, and tears are tears.

There were many more deaths among the common people than among the nobility and Swiss Guards. Even Peltier, ardent Royalist as he was, says in his history of the time : —

” The tenth of August cost humanity about seven hundred regular soldiers and twenty-two olBcers, twenty Royalist National Guards, five hundred Federals, three commanders of National Guards, forty gendarmes, more than a hundred persons employed in the royal liousehold, two hundred men killed for stealing, nine citizens slain on the Feuillant Terrace, Monsieur de Clermont d’Amboise, and nearly three thousand common people killed in Carrousel Square, in the Tuileries garden, and in Louis-Quinze Square, — a total of about four thousand six hundred men in all.”

Nor is this loss of life remarkable under the circumstances, for we have mentioned the precautions taken to

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fortify the Tuileries ; and the Swiss, as a general thing, tired from behind substantial walls, while their assailants had little or no protection. So about three thousand live hundred insurgents perished, to say nothing of the two hundred thieves who were shot. There was probably at least an equal number of wounded. The historian quoted above mentions only the dead.

Many, suppose we say half, of these three thousand five hundred men, were fathers of families, forced into the conflict by intolerable misery. Many of them even entered the fray unarmed, and so went straight to their deaths, leaving their wives in despair and their children starving.

Between three o’clock in the afternoon and nine in the evening every corpse clad in a uniform was picked up and hastily thrown into the Madeleine Cemetery.

As to the plebeian bodies, that was an entirely different matter. They were gathered up in waggons and carted off to their respective sections, — nearly all being from the Faubourg Saint Marceau or the Faubourg Saint Antoine.

There they were ranged side by side near the Arsenal and Pantheon, and in Maubert and Bastille squares. As one of these vehicles rolled heavily along, it left a track of blood behind; and when it entered one or the other faubourg, it was immediately surrounded by a crowd of frantic mothers and wives and children; and as the living recognised the dead, despairing sobs and moans and frightful maledictions burst forth. Curses long and deep were heaped upon the king and queen, the court, and the clique of Austrians that surrounded the queen. J lany promised themselves an even more terrible revenge, and they had it on September 2d and January 21st. Others seemed to be intoxicated by the sight of blood, and again grasping their sabres, their muskets or their pikes, rushed back to Paris to slay. To slay whom? Any Swiss or nobleman or courtier they clianced to meet, or the king and queen if they could but find them.

The bloodstained, smoky Tuileries presented a terrible

152 LA COMTESSE DE CHARNY.

appearance, deserted by all save the dead and three or four detachments of soldiers stationed there for fear noc-turnal visitors, under pretence of searching for missing friends, should pillage the palace.

The detachment in the clock tower — that is to say, by the main stairway — was commanded by a young captain in the National Guards, whose heart was filled with the most profound sympathy and compassion, judging from the expression of his face as he watched waggon-load after waggon-load of dead bodies driven away : but his appetite seemed to be as little affected by his awful surroundings as the king’s ; for about eleven o’clock in the evening he set about satisfying the demands of hunger with a big four-pound loaf of bread, which he held under his left arm, while he cut off one big slice after another with his right hand.

Leaning against one of the pillars in the vestibule, he watched the long procession of mothers, wives, and daughters, who had come to search for their fathers, husbands, and sons.

Suddenly, at the sight of a slender form clad in black, the young captain started violently.

” Madame de Charny ! ” he murmured. But the shadowy form passed on.

The young captain beckoned to one of his lieutenants.

“Desire,” said he, “there is a poor woman, a friend of Monsieur Gilbert’s, who has come to look for her husband, probably, among the dead. I must follow her, so as to be able to give her any information and help she may need. I leave you in command. Watch for both of us.”

The countess had already passed the first landing when the young captain began to follow her at a respectful distance.

Pitou was not mistaken. It was indeed for her husband that poor Andrée was searching, — not with any vestige of hope, but with a certainty of despair.

When in the midst of his joy and happiness Charny

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heard of the events that were transpiring in Paris, he said to his wife : —

“My dearest Andrée, the king’s life is in danger, and he has need of all his defenders. What ought I to do? “

“Go where duty calls thee, my own Oliver,” Andrée replied, “and die for the king, if need be.”

“But thou — “

“Do not think of me,” replied Andrée. “As I have never really lived except in thee, God will perhaps permit me to die with thee.”

These two noble hearts now understood each other perfectly, and not another word was ever interchanged between them on the subject.

Post-horses were immediately ordered; and at five o’clock on the afternoon of that same day they reached the little house in the Eue Coq-Héron.

That very evening, as we have seen, Charny went to the palace, and from that moment was in constant attendance ujDon their Majesties.

Andrée thought for a moment of following her husband’s example, and of asking for her former place near the queen, but lacked the courage, and shut herself up in her room to pray.

The ninth of August was a day of terrible anguish and suspense, but it brought no decisive news.

About nine o’clock on the morning of the tenth, she heard the first sound of cannon. It is needless to say that each reverberation carried terror to the innermost depths of her heart.

About two o’clock the firing ceased. ” Were the people conquered, or conquering? ” she asked.

The people were victorious !

What had befallen Charny in the terrible struggle. She knew him so well, she was certain he had taken a prominent part in it.

She made further inquiries, and was told that nearly all the Swiss Guards had been slain, but that nearly all the nobility had escaped.

154 LA COMTESSE DE CHARNY.

So she waited.

Cliarny might return home in disguise, but be compelled to flee without delay; so she had horses put to the travelling carriage at once.

Horses and carriage waited in vain for the master; but Andrée knew that whatever danger he might incur, the master would not go without her. She even had the gates opened, so, if Charny was obliged to flee, there would be nothing to hinder his flight; and then she waited on and on, in an agony of suspense.

” If he is hiding anywhere, he cannot venture out until night,” she said to herself; “so I will wait until dark.”

In August the night comes on slowly; and not until ten o’clock did Andrée give up all hope. Then she threw a large veil over her head, and went out into the street.

All along her route she encountered groups of women sobbing and wringing their hands, and bands of men yelling for vengeance. She passed them all unchallenged. The wrath of the men and the grief of the women protected her; besides, they were looking for men, not women, that night. There were women, weeping women, everywhere!

Andrée reached the Carrousel just in time to hear the new decrees of the Assembly proclaimed. The king and queen were under the protection of the Assembly. She understood that, and that was all.

She saw two or three waggons driven away; and on inquiring what they contained, was told that they were laden with bodies which had been gathered up in the royal courtyard and the Carrousel; for, as yet, it was only in those places that any collection of the dead had been made.

Andrée said to herself that it was not at all likely that Charny had fought in either of these places, or, indeed, anywhere except at the entrance to the king’s and queen’s apartments; so she crossed the courtyard and the grand vestibule, and ascended the main stairway.

It was there that Pitou saw and recognised Madame de Charny.

A WIDOW. 155

CHAPTER XX.

A WIDOW.

It is impossible to give any adequate description of the scene of devastation which the Tuileries presented. Blood flowed from the chambers and poured down the staircases. There were piles of dead bodies in every room.

Andrée followed the example of those slie saw around her, and, taking a torch, went from one body to another. As she continued her search, she approached nearer and nearer to the apartments occupied by the king and queen.

Pitou followed her as she pursued her futile search there, as in the other rooms ; but at last she paused, and stood for a moment undecided, as if utterly at a loss which way to go.

Pitou noted her embarrassment, and, approaching her, said: “Alas! madame, I can guess only too vell for whom you are looking. Perhaps I can be of some assistance to you.”

“Monsieur Pitou!” exclaimed Andrée.

“At your service, madame.”

“Yes, yes, I need your help sorely,” faltered Andrée. And stepping up to him, and grasping both his hands, she asked eagerly, ” Do you know what has become of Count Oliver?”

“No, madame; but I will help you look for him.”

“There is one person who can tell us whether he is dead or alive, and where he is, whether he be living or dead.”

“And who is that, madame?”

“Tlie queen.”

“Do you know where the queen is?”

15G LA COMTESSE DE CHARNY.

“At the Assembly, I believe; and I feel a faint hope that the count is with her.”

“Yes, yes ‘ said Pitou, encouragingly.

“Will you come with me to the Assembly?”

“What if they refuse us admission?”

“You need have no fear of that.”

“Come, then!”

Andrée threw away her torch, and, being familiar with the interior of the palace, led the way to the basement by a narrow stairway constructed for the servants’ use; so Pitou soon found himself again at his post in the clock tower.

“She hopes to find her husband at the Assembly,” he whispered to Maniquet, “so we are going there; but as it is more than likely that we shall only find his dead body, you had better send four good trustworthy fellows to wait for me at the Feuillant gateway.”

“All right! the men will be there!”

Andrée was waiting at the gate, where a sentinel had been stationed; and as it was Pitou who had placed him there, the sentinel very naturally allowed Pitou to pass unchallenged.

When they reached the Assembly they learned that the royal family had left the hall about an hour before to take possession of the lodgings prepared for them.

There were two obstacles that must be surmounted in order to reach these apartments : first the sentinels on guard outside, and secondly the noblemen on guard inside.

As a captain in the National Guards in command of a detachment stationed at the Tuileries, Pitou knew the password, and consequently could easily conduct Andrée as far as the antechamber where the noblemen were assembled. After that, Andrée must gain admission to the queen’s private apartment as best she could.

We have already described the suite of apartments provided for the royal family and the queen’s despair. We know how, on entering that dingy little room, she had

A WIDOW. 157

thrown herself on the bed, biting and tearing the bolster in an agony of grief. One who had lost throne and libert}’, and perhaps even life itself, had abundant cause for despair; so, out of respect for her grief, her friends withdrew for a while, leaving her alone with her sorrow.

Presently she heard the door leading into the king’s room open and shut; but she did not even glance in that direction, and though she heard footsteps approaching her bed, only buried her head still deeper in the pillow. But suddenly she started up as if a serpent’s fangs had penetrated her heart, as a well-known voice uttered the single word, “Madame.”

” Andrée, ” cried the queen, raising herself on her elbow, ” what do you desire of me?”