Taking the Bastile (29 page)

KING LOUIS XVI. 189

possessed, the king returned to his apartment. He there found Gilbert.

‘What is wanted of me?’ asked the king.

The bodyguard approached him, and while he was apologising to the king for having disobeyed his orders, Gilbert, who for many years had not seen the king, was silently examining the man whom God had given to France as her pilot during the most violent tempest the country had ever experienced.

That stout, short body, in which there was neither elasticity nor majesty; that inexpressive and low-formed brow; that pallid youthfulness contending against pre-mature old age; the unequal struggle between a powerful physical organisation and a mediocre intelligence, to which the haughtiness of rank alone gave a fitting importance all these implied to Gilbert’s keen mind degeneracy, impotence, and ruin. Gilbert was therefore struck dumb, not from a feeling of respect, but from grief, while contemplating this mournful spectacle. The king advanced towards him.

‘ It is you said he, ‘who bring me a letter from Monsieur de Necker?’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘Ah 1’ cried he, ‘give it to me quickly.’

Gilbert presented the letter to the king. Louis immediately grasped it, read it hurriedly, then, with a sign which was not altogether wanting in a sort of nobleness of manner,

‘Leave us, Monsieur de Varicourt,’ said he to the bodyguard.

‘Sir,’ said he, fastening upon Gilbert a clearer and more penetrating gaze than the latter would have thought him capable of ‘Sir, is it true that you are the author of the memoirs which have so much struck me ? ‘

‘Yes, sire.’

‘What is your age?’

“Thirty-two years, sire; but study and misfortunes double age. Treat me as if I were an old man.’

‘WTiy did you omit so long to present yourself to me?’

‘Because, sire, I did not wish to tell your majesty aloud what I could write to him more freely and more easily.’

‘Had you no other reason?’ said the king suspiciously.

‘No, sire.’

190 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘But still, either I am mistaken, or there were some peculiar circumstances which ought to have convinced you of my kindly feeling towards you.’

‘Your majesty intends to apeak of that sort of rendezvous which I had the temerity to give the king, when, after my first memoir, I begged him, five years ago, to place a light near hia window, at eight o’clock in the evening, to indicate that he had read my work. On the day and at the hour appointed the light was, in fact, placed where I had asked you to place it.’

‘And afterwards?*

‘Afterwards I saw it lifted up and set down again three times.’

‘And then?’

‘After that I read the following words in the Gazette :

‘ ” He whom the light has called three times may present MmaeH to him who ha* raised it three times, when he will be compensated.” ‘

‘Those are, in fact, the very words of the advertisement,’ said the king. ‘You arrive at a moment I had quite ceased to expect yon. You are welcome; for you come, like good soldiers, at the moment of the battle.’

Then, looking once more attentively at Gilbert, ‘Do you know, sir,’ said he to him, ‘that it is not an ordinary thing for a king to await the arrival of a person to whom he has said, ” Come to receive your reward,” and that that person should abstain from coming.’

Gilbert smiled.

‘Come, now, tell me said Louis XVI., ‘why did yon not come?’

‘ Because I deserved no reward, sire. Born a Frenchman, loving my country, anxious for its prosperity, I laboured for myself while labouring for them. A man is not worthy of reward when he labours for his own interest.’

‘That is a paradox, sir : you had another reason.’

‘Perhaps, sire, you have guessed rightly.’

‘You found the position a very serious one, and you abstained.’

‘For fear of one still more serious. Yes, sire, your majesty has divined the truth.’

‘I like frankness,’ said the king, who could not conceal his agitation. ‘Then you predicted the king’s fall to (him. and yon feared to be placed too near the ruins.’

KING LOUIS XVL 191

‘No, sire, since it is just at the moment that danger is most imminent that I come to face the danger.’

‘Yes, yes; you have just left Necker, and you speak like him. The danger I the danger I Without doubt, it is dangerous at this moment to approach me. And where is Necker?’

‘Ready, I believe, to obey the orders of your majesty.’

‘So much the better; I shall want him,’ said the king, with a sigh. ‘In politics we must not be headstrong. We think to do good, and we do wrong. We even do good, and some capricious event mars our projects; and though the plans laid were in reality good, we are accused of having been mistaken,’

The king sighed again. Gilbert came to his assistance.

‘Sire,’ said he, ‘your majesty reasons admirably; but what is desirable at the present moment is. to see into the future more clearly than has been done hitherto.’

The king raised his head, and his inexpressive eyebrows slightly frowned.

‘Sire, forgive me,’ said Gilbert; ‘I am a physician. When the danger is imminent, I speak briefly.’

‘Do you, then, attach much importance to the riot of to-day?’

‘Sire, it ia not a riot it is a revolution.’

‘And you wish me to make terms with rebels and assassins) For, in fine, they have taken the Bastille by force; it is an act of rebellion; they have killed Monsieur de Launay, Monsieur de Losme, and Monsieur de Flesselles ; it is murder.’

‘I wish yon to distinguish more correctly, sire. Those who took the Bastille are heroes; those who assassinated Messieurs de Flesselles, De Losme, and De Launay, are murderers.’

‘You are right, sir. You are a physician indeed, or a surgeon rather, for you cut to the quick. But let us return to the object of our interview. You are Dr Gilbert, are you not? or. at least, it is with this name that your memoirs are signed.’

‘Sire, it does me great honour that your majesty has so good a memory.’ Six days ago I was arrested and thrown into the Bastille. Now, I nave heard it said that no arrest of any importance was ever made without the king being aware of the fact.’

‘You in the Bastille 1’ said the king, opening his eyes.

192 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘Here is the registration of my imprisonment, sire-Put in prison, as I have the honour to tell your majesty, six days ago, by order of the king, I came out of it at three o’clock to-day, by the grace of the people.’

‘Ah 1 ‘ murmured the king, ‘I would willingly say that I am pleased at this event, had not the cannon of this morning been fired at the Bastille and the monarchy at the same time.’

‘Oh 1 sire, do not make a prison the symbol of a principle : say, on the contrary, sire, that you rejoice that the Bastille is taken : for, henceforward, injustice will not be committed in the king’s name without his cognisance injustice similar to that of which I have just been the victim.’

‘But surely, sir, your arrest must have had a cause?’

‘None that I know of, sire; I was arrested on my return to France, and imprisoned, that is all.’

‘Really, sir,’ said Louis XVI. kindly, ‘is there not some egotism on your part, in speaking to me thus of yourself, when I so much need to have my own position spo’ken of?’

‘Sire, all I require is, that your majesty will answer me one single question. Was or was not your majesty concerned in my arrest ? ‘

‘I was not even aware of your return to France.’

‘I rejoice at this answer, sire; I shall then be enabled to declare openly that when your majesty is supposed to do wrong, he is nearly always calumniated; and to those who doubt it, I can ate myself as an example. Will your majesty be pleased to read that line written in the margin *f my jail-book entry.’

Gilbert presented the page to the king. The king read : ‘By request of the queen.’

The king frowned. ‘Of the queen !’ said he; ‘can you have incurred her displeasure?’

‘Sire, I am certain her majesty knows me still less than did your majesty.’

‘But still, you must have committed some fault; a man is not sent to the Bastille for nothing.’

‘It would seem so, since I have just come out of it.’

‘But Monsieur Necker has sent you to me, and the warrant of imprisonment was signed by him. Review your past life. See if you do not find some circumstance in it which you had yourself forgotten.’

‘Review my past life I Yes, sire; I shall do it, and

T.B. Pace 157.

‘ The doctor was raised above this sea of heads.’

KING LOUIS XVI. 193

aloud; do not fear, it will not occupy much time. I have laboured without intermission since I attained the age of sixteen; the pupil of Jean Jacques, the companion of Balsamo, the friend of Lafayette and of Washington, I have never had cause to reproach myself, since the day that I left France, for a single fault, nor even an error. When acquired science permitted me to attend the wounded or the sick, I always thought myself responsible to God for every one of my thoughts, and every action. Since God had given me the care of human beings as a surgeon, I have shed blood for the sake of humanity, while ready to give my own to soothe or to save my patient; as a physician, I have always been a consoler, and sometimes a benefactor. Fifteen years have thus passed away. God blessed my efforts i I saw return to life the greater part of the afflicted who all kisser] my hands. Those who died had been condemned by the will of God. No, I repeat it, sire, since the day when I left France, and that was fifteen years ago, I have done nothing with which I can reproach myself.

‘You have associated with the innovators of America, and your writings have propagated their principles.’

‘Yes, sire; and I forgot this claim to the gratitude of kings and men. Now, my life is known to you; I have neither offended nor wounded any one neither a beggar nor a queen and I come to ask your majesty why I have been punished.’

‘I shall speak to the queen, Monsieur Gilbert; but do you think the lettre-de-cachet comes directly from the queen ? ‘

‘ I do not say that, sire. I even think the queen merely recommended it; but you are aware, sire, that what a queen recommends, she commands.’

‘At whose request was the leitre-de-cachet granted?’

‘Yes, sire,’ said Gilbert. ‘Look at it.’

And he presented him the entry in the jail-book.

‘The Countess de Charny I 1 exclaimed the king. ‘How, it is she who caused your arrest ? But what can you have done to this poor Charny?’

‘I did not even know that lady by name, this morning, sire.’

Louis passed his hand over his brow.

‘Charny,’ murmured he, ‘Charny sweetness, virtue, chastity itself. Oh 1 I will clear this up at once,’ said the

194 TAKING THE BASTILLE

king. He went to the fireplace and pulled the bell, and an usher appeared.

‘See ii the Countess do Charny is with the queen,’ said Louis.

‘Sire said the usher, ‘the countess has just this instant crossed the gallery; she is about stepping into her coach.’

‘Run after her,’ said Louis eagerly, and request her to come to my cabinet on an affair of importance.’

GILBERT, on hearing the order to send for Madame de Charny, had retired into the recess of a window. Suddenly the door of the cabinet was thrown open, the usher announced the Countess de Charny; and Gilbert, through the closed curtains, could perceive a woman, whose flowing and silken robes grazed the half-opened door. This lady was dressed, according to the fashion of the times, in a deshabille of gray silk, striped with a variety of colours, with a petticoat of the same stuff, and a sort of shawl, which, after being crossed over the chest, was fastened behind hex waist, and showed to great advantage the beauties of a full and well-developed bosom. A small bonnet, coquettishly fixed on the summit of a high head-dress, higlt-heeled shoes, which showed the exquisite shape of a beautiful instep, a small cane twirled by the gloved fingers of a slender and delicate hand, with tapering and perfectly aristocratic fingers : such was the person so anxiously expected by Gilbert. The king stepped forward to meet her.

‘You were just going out, countess, I was told.’ ‘In truth, sire, replied the countess, ‘I was on the point of stepping into my carriage when I received you majesty’s order.’

On hearing this firm-toned voice, the ears of Gilbert were suddenly assailed as with a rushing sound. The blood instantly suffused his cheeks, and a thousand shudders appeared to thrill through his whole system. Despite himself, he made a step from the curtain, behind which he had secreted himself.

‘SheP stammered he; ‘she Andre ‘

‘Madame,’ continued the king, who, as well as th

THE COUNTESS DE CHARNY 195

countess, had not observed the emotion of Gilbert, ‘I requested you to visit me, for the purpose of obtaining some information from you.’

The king leaned in the direction of Gilbert, as if to warn him. The latter, perceiving that the moment to show himself had not yet arrived, gradually withdrew himself again behind the curtain.

‘Madame,’ said the king, ‘it is now eight or ten days since a warrant of imprisonment was requested of Monsieur de Necker ‘

Gilbert, through the almost imperceptible opening between the curtains, fastened his gaze upon Andre. The young woman was pale, feverish, and anxious, and appeared borne down by the weight of a secret preposses-sion, for which even she herself could not account.

‘ You hear me, do you not, countess ? ‘ asked Louis XVI., seeing that Madame de Charny hesitated before answering.

‘Yes, sire.’

‘Well, do you understand me, and can you answer my question?’

‘I am endeavouring to remember,’ said Andre.

‘Permit me to assist your memory, countess. The warrant of imprisonment was demanded by you, and the demand was countersigned by the queen.’

The countess, instead of answering, appeared to abandon herself more and more to that feverish abstraction which seemed to lead her beyond the limits of real life.