CHAPTER 3
Louis XVI to Frederick William of Prussia: “Monsieur my brother … I have just written to the Emperor, the Empress of Russia, the Kings of Spain and Sweden, and proposed to them a congress of the major powers of Europe, supported by an armed force, as the best means of checking the factions here, of reestablishing a more desirable order of things and of preventing the evil which torments us from gaining hold on other states in Europe … . I hope that Your Majesty … will keep this step on my part in the most absolute secrecy …”
J.-P. Brissot to the Jacobin Club, December 16, 1791: “A people which has just gained its liberty after twelve centuries of slavery needs a war to consolidate itself.”
Marie-Antoinette to Axel von Fersen: “The fools. They do not see that it is in our interests.”
Gabrielle’s pains began in the night, a week earlier than they had expected. He heard her lurch from her bed, and when he opened his eyes she stood over him. “It’s begun,” she said. “Call Catherine for me, would you? I don’t think it will be many hours this time.”
He sat up, put his arms around her bulky body. Candlelight flickered wetly on her dark hair. She cradled his head against her. “Please, after this,” she whispered, “let it be all right.”
How did it come to this? He doesn’t know.
“You’re cold,” he said, “you’re very cold.” He eased her back into her bed, tucked the counterpane around her. Then he went into the drawing room, to put some wood on the embers of the fire.
This was not the place for him now; this was the place for the surgeon and the midwife, for Angelique, for Mme. Gely from upstairs. He spoke to her once more, hovering at the door of the room. Louise Gely sat on the bed, braiding his wife’s hair tightly. He asked her mother in a low voice, was it suitable for the little girl to be here? But Louise heard him and looked up. “Well, M. Danton,” she said, “it is suitable. Or even if it is not, we all have to go through it, and I am fourteen now.”
“And when you are forty,” her mother told her, “it will be time enough for you to be pert. Back to your bed.”
He leaned over Gabrielle, kissed her, squeezed her hand. He stood back to let Louise pass, but she brushed against him, and looked up for a second into his face.
The dawn was late, late and very chill, and his son cried pitifully when he came into the world, with the frost riming the windows, and the icy winds of battle scything the empty streets.
On March 9 the Emperor Leopold died. For a day or two, until the views of the new Emperor became known, peace seemed possible.
“Stock market’s up,” Fabre said.
“Are you interested in the stock market?”
“I dabble, when I have the cash.”
“In the name of God,” said the Queen. “Escape in the carriage of Necker’s daughter? Take refuge in Lafayette’s camp? One could almost laugh.”
“Madame,” said the King, “Madame, they say it is our last chance. My ministers advise me—”
“Your ministers are mad.”
“It could be worse. We are still dealing with gentlemen.”
“It could not be worse,” the Queen said, in frank disbelief.
The King looked at her sadly. “If this administration falls …”
It fell.
March 21: “So, Dumouriez,” said the King, “you think you can hold a government together?” Nagging in the back of his mind, the thought: this man was two years in the Bastille. Charles Dumouriez bowed. “Let us not …” the Kind said hurriedly. “I know you are a Jacobin. I know it.” (But who else is there, Madame? Who else?)
“Sire, I am a soldier,” Dumouriez said. “I am fifty-three years old. I have always served Your Majesty faithfully. I am Your Majesty’s truest subject and I …”
“Yes, yes,” said the King.
“ … and I will take the Foreign Office. After all, I know Europe. I have served as Your Majesty’s agent—”
“I don’t query your abilities, General.”
Dumouriez allowed himself a very small sigh. Time was when Louis heard his ministers out. Louis had less and less appetite for the business of state, no relish for the distasteful details; this was the day of the incomplete statement and the quick payoff. If the King and Queen were to be saved, it was a good thing for them not to know too much: or they would reject his help, as they had rejected Lafayette’s.
“For Finance, Claviere,” he said.
“He was a crony of Mirabeau’s.” The King’s face was expressionless; Dumouriez did not know whether it commended the man or not. “For the Interior?”
“This is difficult. The really able men are in the Assembly, and deputies may not be ministers. Give me a day’s grace, if you please.”
The King nodded curtly. Dumouriez bowed. “General …” The unregal voice trailed after him. The dapper little man turned on his heel. “You aren’t against me, are you …?”
“Against Your Majesty? Because I attend at the Jacobins?” He tried to catch Louis’s eye, but Louis had fixed it at some point to the left of his head. “Factions rise and fall. The tradition of loyalty endures.”
“Oh yes,” Louis said absently. “I don’t so much call the Jacobins a faction, more a power …as once we had the church within the state, now we have the club. This man Robespierre, where does he come from?”
“Artois, sire, or so I understand.”
