Taking the Bastile (32 page)

‘Oh 1 it is you, Monsieur le Baron,’ said she; ‘do you come to give us your good counsel?’

‘The advice is already given,’ said Bezenval, bowing.

.Be it so,’ said the queen, ‘the king will punish only as a tender father.

‘Who loves well, chastises well,’ said the baron.

Then turning towards M. de Lambesq, ‘Are you not of my opinion, prince? The people have committed several murders

‘Which they unfortunately call retaliation,’ said a sweet voice, at the sound of which the queen turned in her seat.

‘You are right, princess; butit is precisely inthatthattheir error consists, my dear Lamballe; we shall be indulgent.’

‘But,’ replied the princess, in her mild manner, ‘before asking whether we must punish, I think we ought to ask whether we can conquer.

A general cry burst forth from those who were present, a cry of protestation against the truth which had just been spoken by those noble lips.

‘Can doubts be entertained about the army and the nobility?’ exclaimed a young man, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant in the Hussars of Berchigny. ‘Have we then deserved such a reproach ? Do but consider, madame, that no later than to-morrow, if he chose, the king could assemble forty thousand men, throw these forty thousand men into Paris, and destroy the city. Remember that forty thousand faithful troops are worth half a million of revolted Parisians.’

The young man who had just spoken these words had, without doubt, a good many other similar reasons to advance, but he stopped short on seeing the eyes of the queen fixed upon him. He had spoken from the centre of a group of officers, and his zeal had carried him farther than was consistent with etiquette and his rank. He checked himself, accordingly, as we have already said, feeling quite ashamed at the impression his words had made. But it was too late; the queen had already been struck with his enthusiastic manner.

io TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘You understand the present condition of affairs, sir?’ said she kindly.

‘Yes, your majesty,’ said the young man, blushing, ‘I was at the Champs Elys6es.’

‘Then, do not fear to speak come nearer, sir.’

The young man stepped forward, blushing, from the group which opened to let him pass, and advanced towards the queen. At the same moment, the Prince de Lambesq and M. de Bezenval retired a step or two, as if they considered it beneath their dignity to attend this sort of council.

‘You say, then, sir, that the king has forty thousand men?’ asked she.

‘Yes, your majesty. At Saint Denis, at Saint Mandl, and at Crenelle.’

‘Give me some details, sir some details,’ exclaimed the queen.

‘Madame, the Prince de Lambesq and Monsieur de Bezenval can give you them with infinitely more accuracy than myself.’

‘Go on, sir. It pleases me to hear these details from your lips. Under whose orders are these forty thousand men?’

‘In the first place, under the orders of Monsieur de Bezenval and Monsieur de Lambesq; then under those of the Prince de Cond6, of Monsieur de Narbonne, Fritzlar, and Monsieur de Salkenaym.’

‘Is this true, prince?’ asked the queen, turning towards Monsieur de Lambesq.

‘Yes, your majesty,’ answered the prince, bowing.

‘On the heights of Montmartre,’ said the young man, ‘there is a complete park of artillery; in six hours the whole quarter of the town within the range of Montmartre could be laid in ashes. Let Montmartre give the signal to commence the fire; let it be answered by Vincennes; let ten thousand men debouch by the Champs Elystes, ten thousand more by the Barrier e d’Enfer, ten thousand more by the Rue Saint Martin, ten thousand more by the Bastille; make Paris hear our cannonading from the four cardinal points, and she cannot hold her ground for twenty-four hours.’

‘Ah I here is a man who, at all events, explains his views frankly; here is, at least, a clear and regular plan. What do you think of it, Monsieur de Lambesq?’

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‘I think, answered the prince disdainfully, ‘that the lieutenant of hussars is a perfect general.’

‘He is, at least,’ said the queen, who saw the young officer turn pale with anger, ‘he is, at least, a soldier who does not despair.’

‘I thank you, madame,’ said the young man, bowing. ‘I do not know what your majesty’s decision will be, but I beg of you to consider me among those who are ready to die for you; and in so doing, 1 should only do that, I beg your majesty to believe, vhich forty thousand soldiers are ready to do, as well as all our chiefs.’

And having said these words, the young man saluted the prince courteously, who had almost insulted him. This act of courtesy struck the queen still more than the protestation of fidelity which had preceded it.

‘What is your name, sir?’ asked she of the young officer.

‘I am the Baron de Charny, madame, replied he, bowing.

‘De Charny 1’ exclaimed Marie Antoinette, blushing in spite of herself; ‘are you, then, a relation of the Count de Charny?’

‘I am hi* brother, madame.’

And the young man bowed gracefully, even lower than he had done before.

4 1 ought,’ said the queen, recovering from her confusion, and casting a firm look around her, ‘I ought to have recognised you, from hearing your first words, as one of my most faithful servants. Thank you, baron. How is it that I now see you at court for the first time?’

‘Madame, my elder brother, who is taking the place of my father, has ordered me to remain with the regiment, and during the seven years that I have had the honour of serving in the army of the king, I have only twice been at Versailles.’

The queen looked for a considerable time at the young man’s face.

‘You resemble your brother,’ said she. ‘I shall repri-mand him for having so long omitted to present you, and left you to present yourself at court.’

And the queen turned in the direction of her friend the countess, who, during all this scene, had remained motionless and mute upon the sofa. But it was not thus with the remainder of those present. The officers, electrified by the reception the queen had given to the young man.

112 TAKING THE BASTILLE

were exaggerating to the utmost among themselves their enthusiasm for the royal cause, and from every group expressions burst forth, evincing a heroism capable ol subjugating the whole of France. Marie Antoinette made the most of these manifestations, which evidently flattered her secret wishes.

In the midst of this febrile excitement the king entered alone, unaccompanied by an usher, and with a smile upon his lips.

The queen, still greatly excited by the warlike emotions which she had aroused, rushed forward to meet him. At the sight of the king all conversation had ceased, and was followed by the most perfect silence; every one expected a kingly word one of those words which electrify and subjugate. The courtiers listened, and trembled, and eagerly waited to catch the first words which were to proceed from the royal lips.

‘Madame,’ said Louis Xvl., ‘amid all these events, they have forgotten to serve up my supper in my own apartment; be so kind as to have it brought here.’

‘ Here ? ‘ exclaimed the queen, with an air of stupefaction.

‘If you will permit it. You were conversing, it is true; but, while at supper, I shall converse also.’

The mere word supper had chilled the enthusiasm of every one present. But, on hearing the king’s last words ‘at supper I shall converse also,’ the young queen herself could hardly help thinking that so much calmness concealed some heroism. The king doubtless thought by his tranquillity to overcome all the terror occasioned by the events that had taken place. Marie Antoinette was mistaken; the king was hungry, that was all.

ON a word from Marie Antoinette, the king’s supper was served on a small table in the queen’s own cabinet. But the contrary of what the princess had hoped soon happened. Louis XVI. ordered every one to be silent, but it was only that he might not be disturbed while at supper. While Marie Antoinette was endeavouring to revive enthusiasm, the king was devouring a Perigord pie. The officer* did not think this gastronouiical performance

HOW THE KING SUPPED ON JULY 14TH 213

worthy of a descendant of St Louis, and formed themselves into small groups, whose observations were not perhaps as respectful as circumstances ought to have demanded. The queen blushed, and her impatience betrayed itself in all her movements. She drew nearer to the king, with a view to bring those nearer to the table who had retired to a more distant part of the room.

‘Sire,’ said she, ‘have you no orders to give?’

‘Ah 1 ah 1’ said the king, his mouth full, ‘what orders, madame? Let us see; will you be our Egeria in this difficult moment?’

And while saying these words he bravely attacked a partridge stuffed with truffles.

‘Sire,’ said the queen, ‘Numa was a pacific king. Now it is generally thought that what we need at present is a warlike king; and if your majesty is to take antiquity for his model, as you cannot become a Tarquin, you must be a Romulus.’

The king smiled with a tranquillity which almost seemed holy.

‘Are these gentlemen warlike also?’ asked he.

And he turned towards the group of officers; and his eyes being animated by the cheering influence of his meal, appeared to all present to sparkle with courage.

‘Yes, sire,’ they all cried with one voice, ‘war 1 we only ask for war I’

‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said the king, ‘you do me in truth the greatest pleasure, by proving to me that when occasion may require it I may rely upon you. But I have for the moment not only a council, but also a stomach; the former will advise me what I ought to do, the second advises me to do what I am now doing.’

And he laughed loudly, and handed his plate, full of fragments, to the officer who was in waiting, in exchange for a clean one. A murmur of stupefaction and of rage passed like a shudder through the group of gentlemen, who only required a signal from the king to shed all their blood. The queen turned round and stamped her foot. The Prince de Lambesq immediately came to her.

‘You see, madame,’ said he, ‘his majesty no doubt thinks, as I do, that it is better to wait. It is prudence and although it is not one of mine, unfortunately, prudence is a necessary virtue in the times we live in.’

M TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘Yes, sir, yes; it is a very necessary virtue,’ said the queen, biting her lips till they bled.

The singular contrast between the disposition of the king and that of the queen struck every one with astonishment. The queen could hardly restrain her tears, while the king continued his supper with the proverbial appetite of the Bourbon family. The room gradually became empty; the various groups melted away as does the snow in a garden before the rays of the sun. The queen, seeing this warlike group, upon which she relied so much, gradually disappear, imagined that all her power was vanishing.

The king was now at his dessert.

‘Madame,’ said the kin^, ‘there is somebody in your apartment; they are seeking you.’

‘But, sire,’ exclaimed the queen, throwing aside every other feeling but that of royal dignity, ‘in the first place, you have orders to give 1 Let us see; only three persons remain here; but they are those with whom you have to deal : Monsieur de Lambesq, Monsieur de Bezenval, and Monsieur de Broglie. Give your orders, sire; give your orders.’

The king raised bis heavy eyes, and appeared to hesitate.

‘What do you think of all this, Monsieur de Broglie?’ said he.

‘Sire replied the old marshal, ‘if you withdraw your army from the sight of the Parisians, it will be said that it was beaten by them. If you leave it in their presence, your army must beat them.’

‘Well said 1’ exclaimed the queen, grasping the marshal’s hand.

‘Well said 1’ cried M. de Bezenval.

The Prince de Lambesq was the only person present who shook his head.

‘Well I and after that?’ said the king.

‘Command : march !’ cried the old marshal.

‘Yes march I’ cried the queen.

4 Well, then, since you all wish it, march 1’ said the king.

At that moment a note was handed to the queen; its contents were as follows : ‘In the name of Heaven, madame, no rashness ! I await an audience of your majesty.’

‘His writing 1’ murmured the queen.

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Then, turning round, she said in a low tone to the woman who had brought the note ; ‘Is Monsieur de Charny in my room?’

‘He has just arrived, completely covered with dust, and I even think with blood,’ answered the confidante.

‘One moment, gentlemen !’ exclaimed the queen, to M. de Bezenval and M. de Broglie; ‘wait for me here, I shall return 1*

And she passed into her own apartment in great haste.

ON entering her dressing-room, the queen found the person there who had written the note brought by her waiting-woman. He was a man thirty-five years of age, of lofty stature, with a countenance which indicated strength and resolution; his grayish blue eye, sharp and piercing as that of the eagle, his straight nose, his prominent chin, gave a martial character to his physiognomy, which was enhanced by the elegance with which he wore the uniform of a lieutenant in the bodyguards. His hands were still trembling under his torn and ruffled cambric cuffs. His sword had been bent, and could hardly be replaced in the scabbard. On the arrival of the queen, he was pacing hurriedly up and down the dressing-room, absorbed by a thousand feverish and agitated thoughts. Marie Antoinette walked straight to him.

‘Monsieur de Charny 1’ she exclaimed, ‘Monsieur de Charny, you here?’

And: seeing that the person whom she was addressing bowed respectfully, according to etiquette, she made a sign to her waiting-woman, who withdrew and closed the doors.

The queen scarcely waited for the door to be closed, when, seizing the hand of M. de Charny with vehemence, ‘Count,’ cried she, ‘why are you here?’

‘Because I considered it my duty to come, madam e,’ said the count.