The Countess De Charny - Volume II (4 page)

” But where are our enemies? Upon whom are these cannon and bayonets pointed?

” The friends of the Constitution have been driven out of the cabinet, though the firm hand of a true pati’iot is sadly needed upon the reins of government. Discord is rife and fanaticism rampant on ever}^ side. The con-nivance of our own government increases the audacity of our foreign foes, and at the same time cools the sympathy of nations who are secretly praying for the triumph of liberty. The enemy’s cohorts are becoming larger and larger, while intrigue and perfidy are busily weaving treasonable plots in the very midst of us. The Assembly passes rigorous but sorely needed edicts to circumvent these conspirators, but the king’s hand rends these edicts in twain.

“It is high time to summon the French people to the defence of their native land, and show them the terrible abyss that is opening before them.

“Imitate the Spartans at Thermopylae, or those venerable Roman senators who calmly awaited upon their own thresholds the death to which their ferocious conquerors had condemned them. A few such sacrifices only are needed to raise up countless avengers; for the day your blood reddens the soil, tyranny — with its arrogance, its palaces, and its champions — will vanish for ever before the irresistible power of the nation and the just wrath of an outraged people.”

An ever-increasing power was apparent in this impassioned discourse. Rising higher and higher, it beat the air more and more violently with its wings, like some huge bird, until it created a positive hurricane.

The effect was similar to that of a waterspout. The

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entire assemblage, Feuillants, Royalists, Constitutionalists, Republicans , members in their seats and spectators in the gallery, were enveloped, caught up, and swept away by this powerful flood of impassioned eloquence. People fairly shrieked with enthusiasm.

That same evening Barbaroux wrote to his friend Rebecqui in Marseilles: —

Send me Jive hundred men who know how to die !

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CHAPTER IV.

THE THIBD ANNIVERSARY OF THE TAKING OP THE

BASTILLE.

On the 11th of July the Assembly declared the country in danger. According to the Constitution the king’s sanction was necessary for the promulgation of this announcement, however, and the king did not give it until the evening of the 21st.

And, in fact, to admit that the country was in danger was equivalent to a confession of powerlessness on the part of the chief executive. It was an appeal to the country to save itself, inasmuch as the king either would not or could not save it.

From July 11th to July 21st the liveliest apprehensions were felt by the occupants of the palace.

The Court was confident of the development of some conspiracy against the king’s life on the 14th. A bulletin issued by the Jacobins strengthened these suspicions. It was evidently prepared by Robespierre, and it was addressed to the confederates, who were coming to Paris to attend the fête of the 14th of July, so cruelly stained with blood the year before : —

” To the French people of the eighty -three departments, greeting!” said the Incorruptible. “To Marseilles, greeting! To the powerful and invincible nation who gathers her children about her in all seasons of joy and of peril, greeting ! We open our doors wide to our brothers !

“Citizens, do you come hither for a mere idle ceremony, and for superfluous protestations? No, no! You hasten hither in response to the appeal of the nation, menaced from without, betrayed from within.

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“Treacherous leaders conduct our armies into pitfalls. Our geuerals respect the territory of the tyrannical Austrian, and burn the towns of our Belgian brothers. A monster, Lafayette, has just insulted the Assembly to its very face.

” Reviled, threatened, outraged, does the Assembly still exist ? So many dastardly attacks have at last aroused the nation; and you hasten here in answer to its appeal. Wheedlers will endeavour to cajole you. Shun their caresses; shun their banquets, where they will drink to moderation and to forgetfulness of duty! Do not allow your suspicions to be lulled to rest for a moment. The fatal hour is at hand!

“There stands the patriot altar! Will you allow false idols to come between you and Liberty , to usurp the adoration which is due to her alone? Let us swear allegiance only to our country!

” Everything on the Champ de Mars will remind you of the treachery of our enemies. There is not a single foot of ground unstained with innocent blood. Purify that soil! Avenge that blood, and do not leave this sacred spot until the salvation of the country is assured.”

It would be difficult indeed to speak more explicitly. Never was assassination recommended in plainer terms; never was a sanguinary revenge urged more clearly and forcibly.

And it was Robespierre, take notice, the crafty orator, the cautious deputy, who said, in his blandest tone’s, ” My friends, you must kill the king! “

Everybody at the Tuileries was greatly alarmed, the king particularly , for they were all positive that the sole object of the outbreak on the 20th of June had been the assassination of the king, and that the failure of the plot had been due entirely to the courageous demeanour of the king, which had awed his would-be murderers.

And there was not a little truth in all this. Now, all

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the friends of the king and queen believed that the crime which had failed on the 20th of June had merely been postponed until the 14th of July. In fact, they were so firmly convinced of this that they begged the king to put on a suit, or at least a tunic, of chain armour under his clothing, so that the first stab or shot would prove harm-less, and his friends have time to come to his assistance.

Alas ! the queen had not Andrée to aid her now, as on a former occasion, and to go with her at midnight to a lonely part of the palace to test with a trembling hand the efficacy of that light silky cuirass, as she had done once at Versailles.

Fortunately, the king’s cuirass had been preserved. He had put it on once, merely to please the queen, on the occasion of his first compulsory journey from Versailles to Paris, but had never worn it afterwards. Kow he was so closely watched that his friends could find no opportunity to put it on him a second time, and repair any defects it might have; and Madame Campan carried it about three days under her dress.

At last, one morning, while slip was in the queen’s chamber, and the queen still in bed, the king came in, hastily pulled off his coat, and tried on the armour, while Madame Campan stood guard at the door.

When the cuirass had been adjusted, the king called Madame Campan to him and said: “It is to satisfy the queen I am doing this. They won’t assassinate me. Cam-pan, you may be sure of that. They have changed their plans, and there is an entirely different kind of death in store for me. When you leave the queen come to my room, for there is something I wish to intrust to your charge.”

The king went out, and the queen, who had noticed this whispered conference, asked Madame Campan what the king had said to her.

Bursting into tears, Madame Campan fell upon her knees beside the bed and repeated his Majesty’s words.

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The queen shook her head sorrowfully, and said : ” Yes, that is the king’s opinion, and I am beginning to think as he does. He believes that what is now taking place in France will prove a mere repetition of what took place in England a century ago. He is continually reading the history of the unfortunate Charles. Yes, yes; I begin to fear the king will be tried. As for me, I am a foreigner, and they will assassinate me. Alas! what will become of my poor children ? “

Sobs choked her utterance. Madame Campan sprang up and began to prepare a soothing draught of sweetened water and ether; but the queen stopped her.

“Nervous attacks are for happy women,” she said sadly; ” but there is no remedy for a mind diseased. Since our misfortunes became so great, I am scarcely conscious of my bodily existence. I can think only of my probable fate. Say nothing about this to the king, and go to him at once.”

But Madame Campan made no movement to obey.

“What is the matter? Why don’t you go?” asked the queen.

” Oh, madame, I want to tell your Majesty that I have had a tunic of mail like the king’s made for you,” cried Madame Campan, “and I implore your Majesty on my knees to put it on,”

“Thank you, thank you, my dear Campan,” said the queen, much affected.

” Your Majesty accepts it, then ? ” exclaimed her devoted attendant, joyfully.

” I will accept it as a token of your devotion, but I shall not put it on.” Then, taking her faithful friend’s hand, she added softly : ” I shall be only too thankful if they do assassinate me. God! they will, in that case, confer a greater blessing on me than Thou did’st in giving me life, for they will deliver me from it! Go, Campan, go! “

In the corridor Madame Campan met the king. On seeing her, he stopped, and offered her his hand. Madame

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Campan took it, and bent her head to press her lips upon it ; but the king drew her to him, and kissed her upon both cheeks; then, before she had recovered from her astonishment, he bade her follow him.

The king walked on in advance of her until he reached a side passage leading from his bed-chamber to that of the dauphin. Here he paused, and passed his hand over the partition, until he found a spring which yielded to his touch, and a door flew back, revealing a small closet skilfully built in the wall of the passage. It was the iron vault the king had built and walled up, with Gamain’s assistance, two years before.

There was a large portfolio filled with papers in the closet, as well as a large quantity of gold.

“Here, Campan, take this portfolio and carry it to your own room,” said the king.

Madame Campan tried to lift it, but the portfolio was too heavy.

“I cannot lift it, Sire,” she replied.

“Wait, then,” said the king.

And after carefully closing the safe again, he picked up the portfolio and carried it to Madame Campan’s room himself.

“What am I to do with this portfolio. Sire?” asked the lady.

” The queen will inform you, and at the same time tell you what it contains.”

The king left the room, and Madame Campan, after concealing the portfolio between the two mattresses on her bed, returned to the queen.

” Madame, the king has just intrusted a portfolio to my keeping. He says your Majesty will tell me what it contains, and what I am to do with it,” she remarked.

” Campan, it contains documents and papers which would ruin the king if he should ever be brought to a trial, which God forbid! At the same time — and this is probably what the king wished me to tell you — it also contains a

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full report of the session of the Council in which the king opposed a declaration of war. He had it signed by all his ministers; and in case he is ever brought to trial, he thinks, though the others may injure him, this will be of some service to him.”

“But what am I to do with the papers, madame?”

” Whatever you think proper, Campan, provided they are in a safe place. Only you must not leave me, even when you are not on duty ; for circumstances are such that I may need you at any moment. As you are one of our most trusty friends, I want you always near me.”

The festival of July 14th took place. It was the Kevolution, not the assassination of the king, that engrossed every mind, however, — though there was undoubtedly a strong disposition to celebrate Petion’s victory over the king.

As we have previously stated, Petion had been suspended from office by the Directory of Paris after the outbreak on the 20th of June; but the king’s concurrence was needed to make this act valid. The king confirmed the action of the Directory by a royal proclamation sent to the Assembly; but on the 13th the Assembly formally reinstated Petion.

At eleven o’clock on the morning of the 14th the king descended the steps of the palace in company with the queen and the royal children. Three or four thousand troops formed an escort for the royal family ; but the queen looked in vain for any expression of friendly feeling or sympathy on the faces of these men.

As for the people, there was no mistaking their sentiments. Shouts of ” Long live Petion ! ” resounded on every side. The queen trembled and turned pale. In spite of what she had said to Madame Campan, she felt convinced that there must be a plot against the king’s life, and shuddered as she fancied she saw an outstretched hand armed with a knife or aiming a pistol.

On reaching the Champ de Mars, the king alighted from his carriage, took his place on the left of the President of

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the Assembly, and advanced with him towards the patriot altar.

The queen was obliged to leave the king, in order to take possession of the box that had been reserved for her and her children; but she paused, unwilling to ascend the stairs until she was satisfied that her husband was safe.

Just as the king reached the foot of the patriot altar, there was a sudden movement, attended with considerable commotion in the crowd, and the king disappeared from sight. The queen screamed, and started towards the spot; but in a moment the king was seen again, ascending the steps of the patriot altar.

Among the numerous allegorical figures, such as Justice, Liberty, Law, and Order, which usually figure in such processions, there was a man, heavily swathed in crape and crowned with cypress, who especially attracted the queen’s attention.

” Who is that man dressed in black and crowned with cypress?” she managed to falter, though not without a terrible effort.

“The headsman,” replied a voice that made her tremble.

“xVnd Avhat is he carrying in his hand hidden under that crape veil?”

“The axe with which Charles I. was beheaded.”

The queen turned pale and glanced nervously around, for it seemed to her she had heard that voice before.