1The route from St. Menehould to Châlons is long and fatiguing—nine apparently never-ending leagues, traversing flat and arid plains under a leaden sky, with a sun darting his scorching rays with reflected lustre on the musket barrels and sword blades.

2The royal family arrived at Châlons fatigued, dispirited and worn out, at ten in the evening.

3Half the original followers of the royal escort had thrown themselves down under hedges and in ditches, unable any longer to proceed.

4But the actual escort was as strong on arriving at Châlons as when leaving St. Menehould, since it was recruited by the National Guard of every village through which it passed; and the villages were pretty thickly scattered on the right and left of that road.

5The authorities, of whom the Mayor took the lead, conducted the prisoners to the gate of the Dauphin. I use the word prisoners advisedly, as the royal family were in fact, at that time, prisoners of the nation.

6Strange coincidence! —the gate through which they passed was the triumphal arch raised by the French people in commemoration of the entry of Madame the Dauphine into France.

7It still bore the inscription, “May it stand eternal like our love.”

8The arch, in fact, still stood, but the love which prompted it had fallen away.

9At Châlons, especially, opinion changes.

10The bluffness of the national party was lessened. The old town where Attila lost himself, and which now preserved its trade only in the wines of Champagne, was inhabited by Royalists of the better class, and by poor gentlemen. These good people were sorely vexed to see their unhappy King in such doleful plight.

11They expected his arrival; consequently a great supper was prepared.

12The King and Queen partook of the meal in public, as they did at Varennes. A sort of royal drawing-room was held. The ladies bore with them immense bouquets. The Queen was positively overwhelmed with flowers.

13They determined to start on the morrow, feeling an increase of confidence on account of the reception they had met with.

14Before they set out, mass was celebrated at ten o’clock by M. Charber, perpetual-curate of Notre Dame. The King was present, accompanied by the Queen and the royal family; but hardly had the solemn service commenced, before a disturbance was made.

15It was the National Guard of Rheims, who wished the King to set out at once. The time spent in mass appeared to them wasted, as they had come solely to gloat over the downfall of monarchy, and the ruin of their King. They broke open, therefore, the doors of the chapel, despite the resistance offered to them by the National Guard.

16The King and Queen were advised to show themselves at the balcony. They did so; but the sight of their august persons exasperated, in place of calming, the turbulence of the excited populace, who shouted for the royal family to leave their city, and actually drew the carriages to the door, harnessed the horses, and did, in fact, all they could do to accelerate the departure of the King.

17The King appeared again at the balcony, and pronounced the following words:—

18“Since you oblige me to leave you, I go!”

19Although this was a reproach more than anything else, it satisfied the people.

20At eleven exactly, the royal family re-entered their carriage, and put themselves en route.

21The heat was dreadfully oppressive. Their journey was made, as it were, through a blast furnace, and their eyes were incessantly tormented by a penetrating dust.

22I happened to know the situation of a cool spring. I approached the royal carriage, and demanded respectfully of her Majesty the Queen if she desired a glass of fresh water, as we were near to some of a most excellent quality.

23“Thank you,” replied the Queen.

24“Oh, do have some, mamma—do have some! I am so thirsty!” said the Dauphin.

25“I wish it not; but give me some for my children,” said the Queen.

26Madame de Tourzel handed me a silver cup.

27“Fill this up for me, also,” said Madame Elizabeth.

28She handed me another cup.

29In fancy, after a lapse of sixty years, I can still see her angelic face—still hear that charming voice, whose entreaties were more than commands.

30I leant my gun against the trunk of a tree, rushed to the fountain, and brought back the two cups filled with the sparkling water, which, through my rapidity, had not had time to lose its freshness.

31The Dauphin and Madame Royale shared one cup between them.

32Madame Elizabeth, after offering the other cup to the Queen, who refused it, drank it herself.

33“Oh, what delicious water it is,” cried the Dauphin. “Why does the world drink aught else?”

34“Because they have drinks they like better,” replied the King.

35“My son thanks you, sir,” said the Queen.

36“I also thank you,” said Madame Elizabeth, with her sweet smile.

37I seized my gun, which had been left at the foot of a tree.

38“I saw you once run after M. de Dampierre,” said the Queen. “With what intention?”

39“With the hope of saving him, if possible, madame.”

40“You have the same opinions, then, as M. de Dampierre,” said the Queen.

41“I agree with him in the respect which he feels towards your enemies.”

42“Do you know that you give an ambiguous answer, young man?” said the King.

43“Yes, sire,” I replied.

44“Ha, ha!” said he.

45Then to the Queen: “The minds of these people are poisoned against us, from their very childhood.”

46“Oh, papa!” cried the Dauphin, “what a beautiful gun he has!”

47I was the person referred to. To the Queen and Madame Elizabeth I was “monsieur,” but to the Dauphin I was simply “he.”

48The King looked at my gun.

49“It is,” said he, “a gun manufactured at Versailles. Where did you procure it?”

50“The Duc d’Enghien gave it to me, sire.”

51“Yes,” said the King, “the Condés have all the benefits on this side,—‘the department of the Meuse,’ as they call it.”

52Then looking towards me: “Have you ever served princes?”

53“Sire,” said I, smiling, “is it necessary to have served princes in order to receive a present from them?”

54The Queen bent her regards upon the King.

55“Strange!” said she.

56I retreated a pace.

57The King beckoned me, but not knowing how to address me, he said, “My young friend, you say that the Duc d’Enghien gave you that gun?”

58“Yes, sire. I understand,” said I, “that the King wishes to know upon what occasion this gun was presented to me. I was the nephew of a park-keeper of the Forest of Argonne, whose name was Father Descharmes. The Duc de Condé and the Duc d’Enghien often hunted in this forest. The Duc d’Enghien took a fancy to me, and gave me this gun.”

59The King, for a moment, appeared buried in thought.

60“Your uncle is still alive?” he then asked.

61“Sire, he is dead?”

62“Why do you not solicit his place?”

63“Because, sire, the keepers wear livery. I am a free man.”

64“Children suck in republican ideas, even with their mothers’ milk!” murmured the King.

65He then threw himself back in his carriage.

66I know not if the King spoke again; but the carriage at the moment stopped; and, perchance, with it stopped something of importance.

67We had arrived at Port Bassion.

68Suddenly was heard a cry: “The commissaires! the commissaires!”

69At this moment, a man on horseback dashed up to the door of the King’s carriage. The King put out his head, to see what had caused the halt.

70“Sire,” said the horseman, “here are three deputies, who wish to direct the return of your Majesty.”

71“Aha!” said the King, “Can you tell me the names of these estimable gentlemen?”

72“Their names, sire, are Citizens Latour-Maubourg, Barnave, and Pétion.”

73The three deputies represented the three different parties of the Assembly. Latour-Maubourg was Royalist, Barnave was Constitutional, Pétion was Republican.

74The crowd respectfully drew back. Three men approached the royal carriage, stopped at the door, and saluted the King, who returned their inclination.

75One of them held in his hand a paper, which he read in a loud voice. It was the decree of the National Assembly.

76The man who read it was Pétion.

77This decree ordered them to proceed to the King, not only to ensure his safety, but also as a mark of respect due to royalty, as represented in the persons of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.

78The King knew that M. Latour-Maubourg was a Royalist.

79He therefore desired that, as two deputies had to sit in the carriage with him, he would name the two. The Queen expressed the same desire.

80M. Latour-Maubourg replied, in a whisper:—

81“I accepted the sad mission which introduces me to your Majesty only in the hopes of being of some service to you. Your Majesty can, then, count upon me as a faithful follower. But I have not the power of Barnave, who exercises an enormous influence over the Assembly. He is vain as an advocate, and will be flattered by having a seat in the carriage of the King. It is, therefore, needful that he should occupy a place, and that the Queen should take the opportunity of improving his acquaintance. I, therefore, beg your Majesties to excuse my surrendering my seat.”

82The Queen bowed her head. She wished to again assume her womanly properties, and to seduce Barnave, as she had Mirabeau. To be sure, it was humiliating, but, at the same time, it was a distraction.

83Strange contradiction! It was the King who had most repugnance to Barnave’s occupying a seat in the royal carriage. Barnave, a little Dauphinois advocate, pride upon his face, his nose perked up in the air, and his tout ensemble proclaiming insufferable conceit, took his place. Pétion likewise, his rosy cheeks glowing with satisfaction, disposed of himself to his perfect content.

84Barnave and Pétion, therefore, as we have said, entered the royal carriage.

85Madame de Tourzel had resigned her place, and entered, with M. Latour-Maubourg, the carriage set apart for the attendants.

86Pétion at once proclaimed his discourtesy by claiming, as representative of the National Assembly, a seat with his face to the horses. The King and Queen made a sign to Madame Elizabeth, who at once changed places with him.

87At last, all inside the royal carriage were satisfactorily arranged. On the back seat were the King, Pétion, the Queen; and on the front, Madame Elizabeth, face to face with Pétion, Madame Royale and the Dauphin face to face and knee to knee with the Queen, who was opposite, also, to Barnave.

88At the first glance the Queen fancied that Barnave was dry, cold, and wicked.

89Barnave had hoped to take the place of Mirabeau at the Assembly. He had succeeded in part; could not the Queen confer the rest?

90Why not?

91Had she not, at St. Cloud, given a secret interview to Mirabeau? Why should not he, Barnave, be accorded a similar favor.

92But then, public rumor spread abroad that one of the three gentlemen on the box of the carriage, “M. Fersen,” was the accepted lover of the Queen.

93Strange thing! As I have told you the good self-opinion of Barnave, he was yet jealous of M. de Fersen.

94With the admirable shrewdness of women, the Queen discovered this before a quarter of an hour had elapsed.

95She managed to get the three guards, named respectively MM. de Malden, de Valory, and de Moustier.

96No Fersen!

97Barnave breathed, smiled, and became positively charming.

98Barnave was young, handsome, polished, of fascinating manners, and felt great commiseration for the unfortunate royal party.

99In place of the Queen seducing Barnave, Barnave almost seduced the Queen.