1The King had scarcely quitted the Convention upon the occasion of his first appearance there, than he was accorded the privilege of even the commonest prisoner on his trial—that of choosing two counsel for his defence. The King chose two—one named Trouchet; the other, Target. The former willingly accepted the office; the second dreaded to appear as the accomplice of the King; and wrote a cowardly letter, saying, to defend Louis Capet would be to outrage his own principles. But this precaution, so far from saving him, marked him out to the terrorists as a man who was a coward, and, in his turn, he was drafted to the scaffold, undefended and unlamented.

2An old man, and a great one, of a family notorious for their wisdom and their justice—one Malsherbes, aged seventy-four, and who had served twice as a Minister during Louis XVI’s reign—took the position offered to the wretched man, Target, and refused by him.

3Indeed, he asked for it. The act is well worth admiration. At seventy-four, when most men are weary of life, this good man asked for a position which he knew was one which might involve the forfeiture of his own existence. Said he, “I was twice summoned to the council of him who was my master at a time when everybody was ambitious of the post, and I owe him this service now that this office is, in the eyes of most persons, one of danger; and had I the means of acquainting him with my wishes, I should not seek another mode of striving to serve him” (he was speaking to the President of the Convention); “but I think, seeing the position you hold, that you can most safely convey to Louis XVI my desire to serve him.”

4The Convention, violent as were its members, reverenced this devotion of friendship, and honest Malsherbes was appointed to the task of defending the fallen King.

5“Malsherbes,” said a friend to him, as he was leaving the Convention, “you are the friend of Louis XVI; how can you bring him papers in which he will read the expressions of the wrath of the people against him?”

6“The King is not like other men,” returned M. de Malsherbes. “He possesses a great mind, and such faith as raises him above all things.”

7“You are an honest man,” replied the friend. “But if you were not, what is to prevent you from bringing him poison, as a weapon, or advising him to commit suicide?”

8Malsherbes hesitated for a moment, and then he replied, “If the King were of the religion of the philosophers—were he a Cato or a Brutus—he might kill himself. But he is pious—he is a Christian—he knows that religion forbids him to lay violent hands upon himself, and he will not commit suicide.”

9Malsherbes went daily after this to see the King, to commune with him upon the defence which was to be set up.

10But of what avail was any defence? The question was not whether or not the King was guilty, but whether or not his death would be of advantage to the establishment of the republic.

11During these final days of his life, the King was entirely deprived of the consolation of seeing his family. He was now kept completely isolated. However, by the mercy of Cléry, his servant, on the one hand, and that of Turgy, the Queen’s attendant, on the other, the desolate couple communicated. A few words were written on a morsel of thin paper, which, being folded, a needle was run through it, and it was in this condition concealed in a hank of sewing-thread, which was put in the Queen’s work-box by Turgy, who placed the thread, and its answering line, in Cléry’s way, who conveyed it to a place where the King would look for it.

12Louis XVI never had any doubt that he would be executed. On the other hand, he does not appear, up to the time of his trial, to have assumed for one moment that the Queen would suffer.

13Before his sentence was pronounced, he made his will. It is a long document. Here are some of the chief lines in this testament:—“I, Louis XVI of that name, and King of France, confined for four months in the Tower of the Temple, at Paris, by those who were my subjects, and deprived during eleven days of all communication with even my family, and, moreover, implicated in a trial, the outcome of which no man can with certainty foresee—for who can measure the passions of men? —having no one, save God, as a witness of my thoughts, or to whom I can address myself, do here declare, in His presence, this my last will and testament. I bequeath my soul to God, my creator, and pray that, in all his mercy he will accept it. I die in the faith of the Church, and bow to its laws. I pray the good Lord to forgive me as I have forgiven. I have striven hard to remember some of my sins, and to abominate them. I bow before God. I beg all that I have accidentally injured—for by my will I never hurt human being—to forgive me the harm they may believe I have caused them.

14“I pray all men of charity to add their prayers to mine. I pardon, from the bottom of my heart, all those who are my enemies, without that I have given them cause to be other than my friends; and I ask God to pardon them also, for they know not what they do. I also pray pardon for those whose zeal in my cause has done me so much harm. I recommend to God my wife and children, my sister, my aunts and brothers, and all those belonging to me through blood, or by any other way. I pray heaven to look pityingly upon my wife, and children, and sister, all of whom have too long suffered with me, and to strengthen them if they lose me, so long as they shall remain in this world. To my wife I recommend my children, whom she has never ceased to love; and I pray my wife to teach her children to look upon the pomps and vanities of this world—if they should be so unfortunate as to suffer them—only as dangerous and vanished possessions, and to turn their thoughts to eternity. And I pray my sister to be gentle as ever to my children, should they have the misfortune to lose her.”

15This is the first time, in sooth, the King betrays the least intimation of his fears that his blood will not suffice to appease the national rage. And even here it may be doubted whether Louis does not rather refer to natural than violent death, for the Princess Elizabeth was younger than the Queen. It will be seen that, even at this pass, and solemn moment, the King has not the least thought that the Princess herself will be despatched below the knife of the guillotine.

16The King’s will continued:—

17“I pray my wife to pardon me all she has suffered, and will suffer, on my account, and all the sorrow I may have caused her in my life, as she may be certain I forgive her if she can possibly suppose that she has ever caused me a grief.

18“I pray my children, after their love to God, which is above all, to love one another, and to live in peace; to be grateful and obedient to their mother; and in memory of me, I pray them to look upon my sister as their second mother.

19“I pray my son, should he be so luckless as to become King, to forget the troubles I shall have passed through, and to forgive the people, who know not what they do, that which they will accomplish. Let him not forget that he was born for the happiness of his subjects; that he can only reign safely by upholding the laws; and that he can only do this while his power lasts. Once let him lose power, and he becomes more injurious than ever he was useful; and, above all, let him remember the load of debt I owe to the children of the men who have already fallen in defending my cause.”

20[These words are obviously the result of Louis’s study of the history of England, of the stigma that rests upon the memory of Charles II, through persistently ignoring the just claims of the children of the men who had died in the cause of his beheaded father, Charles I.]

21The King concludes his will by recommending Cléry to the Convention, and asking that the sword, purse, jewels, and other ornaments taken from him may be given to that person after the writer shall be dead.

22He signed the will “Louis,” as though he still reigned.

23This will is sublime in its simplicity; its Christianity, pity, regret, and massive setting aside of his life as passed away, are all very beautiful points; while the belief that his death would compensate all, and that the country would not visit his faults upon the heads of his family, shows still an amount of faith in his people which is truly touching.

24Upon the defence being read, the King found it opened with an appeal to the people, and a description of the wretched condition of the royal family. The two counsel and the King, who were the only people who heard this defence read, and which had been put into form by the reader, Desèze, were all moved at the beauty of the language.

25But the King was inflexible.

26“All that must be struck out,” he said.

27And he insisted—for was he not a dying man? The wishes of the dying are obeyed.

28After the reading of the defence, the King, being left alone with Malsherbes, he was tormented by the thought that he could not compensate his counsel for their labors.

29“Desèze and Trouchet,” he said, “owe me nothing. They gave me their time, exertions, and, perhaps, their lives, and I cannot pay them. Even if I leave a legacy, it will not be paid. Again, what could pay such work as theirs?”

30“Sire, you have the power of repaying them.”

31“How?”

32“Take them, for one mere moment, to your heart.”

33So, next day, when the two gentlemen came, he held open his arms, and pressed these brave men, one after the other, to his heart.

34This was all that he had to bestow—a royal accolade, the peaceful kiss of a dying man.

35At this second examination, they gave the King a suit of clothing, in which he looked at worst passable. But another shape of indignity was put upon him: he was kept waiting in a cold waiting-room during a whole hour.

36The King was advised not to shave, that the savagery of his gaolers in even depriving him of so common a necessary as a razor should move his judges. But the King refused to avail himself of this theatrical effect. He was rather fitted to fall with dignity into the repose of death, than to war, fight, battle for life.

37Louis XVI forgave the men who were to condemn him before they tried him; but his very pardon became his most perfect revenge in the eyes of posterity.

38The King’s counsel spoke logically, but with no power of words. Having finished, Louis XVI, who had followed his advocate as though rather interested for this gentleman than for himself, rose and uttered these words:—

39“You have now heard the grounds of my defence, and I shall not repeat them. In speaking to you for the first, and perhaps the last, time, I declare that I can accuse myself of nothing; that my advocate has spoken the truth, and nothing but the truth. I never feared that all I did should be made public, but I grieve that you accuse me of spilling the blood of the people. And that the misfortunes of the 10th of August are attributed to me. I had thought that the numerous evidences of love for my people which I have shown would have placed me above such an accusation. This is not the case, and I must bear with what has happened. I declare that I exposed my life to save the shedding of one drop of the blood of my people.”

40He turned, and left the chamber.

41“Let him be judged!” cried Bazere.

42“’Tis time the nation learns if she is right in wishing to be free, and if this is a crime!”

43“I ask,” cried Languinais, “that the sentence be declared by a ballot of all France!”

44“To prison with Languinais!” cried many voices.

45“You are too openly a Royalist,” cried Thuriot.

46“Why,” cried another, “he wills to try us, and make Louis himself judge.”

47“And I say,” replied Languinais, fearlessly, “that you constitute yourselves accusers, judges, jury, and executioners. Let the people declare themselves! Let there be liberty of speech, to declare whether the King shall live or die.”

48“Down with him!” cried a voice.

49“You shall hear me,” cried Languinais.

50“Put him upon his trial! place him in the dock, and let him instantly be tried!”

51“To prison with him!”

52Silence was at last restored; but when Languinais sat down, he knew he was a condemned man—he knew nothing could save him.

53Meanwhile, in an ante-chamber, where the murmurs of his judges were audible, the King’s counsel were endeavoring to cheer him with a little hope. The people had demonstrated with somewhat of kindly feeling in favor of the King at various theatres.

54On his return to the Temple, the King having nothing of value with which he could partially repay his counsel, took off his laced cravat and gave it to Desèze.

55On the 1st of January, after the French fashion of wishing friends a happy new year, Cléry approached his master’s bed and offered him best wishes for the continuance of his life.

56The King put his hands together and prayed, for he remembered that this was the day in the year when his thousand courtiers flocked to his palace to congratulate him.

57Rising, he sent to ask if his daughter was better (for the Princess was ill), and to wish the Queen a happy new year.

58From the first to the 16th of January, he was kept immured in the great tower of the Temple, perfectly isolated. No one was allowed to see him, not even one of his family. The fallen King passed his time reading the history of England, especially the volumes of the life and execution of Charles I—history which appeared to fascinate him.

59Meanwhile, the members of the Convention were daily disputing the question of the King’s life or death.

60St. Just now rose to the surface. Unpityingly he cried, “If the King is innocent, the people are guilty. You have declared martial law against the tyrants of the whole world, and spare your own. The Revolution only begins where the tyrant ends.”

61Another cried, “If with this, my hand, I alone could strangle all tyrants, I would not hesitate to rid the world of them.”

62But the rising party in the house lived by favor of the eager revolutionists, whom they dared not oppose. With them it was necessary that the King should die.

63Another, upon another day, cried, “We have lost three hours this day talking of a thing they call a King. Are we, then, revolutionists? No; we are vile slaves.”

64Camille Desmoulins stuttered, “Let him be killed, with this word on his brow—‘Traitor!’ and this on his back—‘King!’”

65Another cried, “Henceforth, let murderers and thieves be buried in the royal vaults!”

66At length the Convention agreed to the plan of every member of the Convention voting upon these three questions:—

671. Is Louis guilty?

682. Shall the decision of the Convention be submitted to the ratification of the people.

693. What shall be the sentence?

70To the first question, nearly seven hundred as against about a dozen, voted “Yes.”

71On the second, two hundred and eighty voices voted for the appeal to the people; four hundred and twenty-three against it.

72It was now (January 16) that Danton first betrayed his insatiable thirst for blood.

73“I thought,” cried he, “we were assembled for other purposes than those of the drama.”

74“’Tis a question of liberty!” cried several voices.

75“Question of liberty?” cried Danton. “’Tis a question of a comedy—that taking off the head of a tyrant with the axe of a King! I demand that we do not separate before we have pronounced sentence upon Louis! His accomplices have fallen without delay, therefore let him fall at once!”

76Everything declared in favor of Louis’s death by this same January 16. On this day itself, a poor fellow named Louvain, who had been one at the taking of the Bastille, venturing to say that the republic ought to be established without the death of Louis XVI, a friend and companion near him plunged his sword into his breast.

77In the evening, a book-pedlar, suspected of royalism, leaving a public reading-room, was accused by the people of distributing pamphlets in favor of the King’s cause. He was assassinated with thirty dagger-thrusts.

78Upon this day the soldiery swept over Paris, brandishing their swords, singing patriotic songs, and looking eagerly for the least signs of opponents.

79In a certain church in Paris, the hearts of passed-away kings were kept in silver vases. These were seized and broken open, and the contents cast into the common sewer.

80At the Hall of the Convention a fearful scene was progressing—the voting upon the sentence. It is night-time, and the hurriedly raised black hangings suggest more an execution than a place of justice. The Convention is held in an old monastery—dark, drear, and wretched. A few scattered lanterns make the darkness visible, and throw a pale light upon the faces of passers-by. At the two principal entrances are cannon, the attendant artillerymen with the continuously lighted fuse in hand. The cannon is there rather to be turned upon the members of the Convention than to intimidate the people.

81“His death—or thine!”

82These were the words each Conventionist heard as he passed into the Hall—words uttered in whispers, but which shook the hearers as though they were thunder.

83Persons who knew the various members were present, who received them and commented upon their opinions. As Danton, Marat, Robespierre and Camille Desmoulins passed, the ranks showed all the signs of respect. Others were threatened. Languinais passed through a forest of thrusting pikes to reach the voting table.

84The Hall itself was very dark, the benches being filled with young and beautiful women of the people class. Before them were a number of butchers, reeking from their slaughter-houses.

85Fifteen hours had the deputies sat—few remained. Of those present, some were in little groups—others had fallen asleep.

86The first votes left everything in uncertainty. Death and Exile were voted alternately.

87Vergniaud, the leader of the Girondists, who had sworn to save the King’s life, whose vote would control that of all the Girondists, voted “Death!”

88The King was doomed, because the Jacobins were all certain to vote “Death” to a man.

89Robespierre started, and Danton said, in a low, scoffing voice, “These are your orators!”

90The last man but one called to vote was the King’s cousin, the Duc d’Orleans, Philip Equality. It was thought the ties of nature and of blood would compel him to vote for exile.

91He said these words:—

92“My thoughts being fixed wholly upon duty, convinced that whoever shall now or hereafter attempt to establish monarchy in this land is worthy death—I vote death!”

93This man, this monster to his own blood, had in early youth been so abject a coward, that, during a naval engagement between the French and English, he had gone down into the cock-pit, whence no one could induce him to remove until the action was over. The cowardice of his youth was well supplemented by his voting the King’s death.

94Even Robespierre condemned him. Returning to Duplay’s house in the evening, he said, “The miserable man! He was expected to listen to the pleadings of his own heart, and vote exile; but he would not, or dared not. The nation despises him henceforth!”

95The monstrous act did not save him from the Reign of Terror. He died on the scaffold—the most guilty wretch who there ended life.

96Followed the man Orleans, a deputy, lying on a hand-bed. He was dying, and he voted death!

97A herald arrived from the King of Spain, interceding for the King’s life.

98Danton rose to speak, without the Speaker’s permission.

99“Thou art not yet King, Danton!” cried a voice.

100“I am astounded at Spain’s insolence!” cried Danton. “I desire that war against Spain be immediately declared!”

101The intercession damaged, rather than benefited, the royal cause.

102The scrutiny of the votes now commenced.

103Three hundred and thirty-four voted for exile or imprisonment.

104Three hundred and eighty-seven voted for death. Thus death was in a majority of fifty-three; but, by subtracting from this number the forty-six voices which had also voted a suspension of the execution of death, the majority in favor of immediate death was seven!

105The Girondists, who did not wish for the King’s death, had voted his execution, and thereby favored their enemies, the Jacobins, whose thirst for death was unquenchable.

106On the morning of the 19th January, Louis, who had been by this time restored to his family, saw Malsherbes approaching him. The old man fell on his knees.

107“I see,” said the King; “Death!”