I was staying in my rooms all day. I no longer cared to go out. I spent my time writing. My children were constantly with me. They provided my only Joy, my only reason for wanting to stay alive.
I wrote to Axel:
“They are the only happiness left to me. When I am most sad I take my little son in my arms and I hold him against my heart. That consoles me.”
The National Assembly had prepared its draft of a Constitution and had laid it before the King for his acceptance. To ask for it was a meaningless gesture. The King was their prisoner. He had no alternative but to agree.
“It is a moral death,” I said to him, ‘worse than bodily death, which frees us of our troubles. “
He agreed, knowing that his acceptance of the Constitution was a sacrifice of all he stood for.
Louis was obliged to attend the Assembly; I went to watch him make his speech and it filled me with indignation and sorrow to see that the Assembly remained seated while he made his oath.
When he returned to the Tuileries he was so dispirited that he sank into a chair and wept. I put my arms about him to comfort him and wept for him, for although I now believed that had he acted with resolve and determination we might have escaped this dire misfortune, I could not help remembering his kindness and tenderness and it occurred to me that it was his very goodness of heart which had added to our troubles. I wrote to Mercy:
“As regards the acceptance of the Constitution it is impossible that any thinking person can fail to see that whatever we may do we are not free. But it is essential that we should give these monsters who surround us no cause for suspicion. However things turn out, only the foreign powers can save us. We have lost the army; we have lost money; there exists within this realm no power to restrain the armed populace. The very chiefs of the Revolution are no longer listened to when they try to talk about order. Such is the deplorable position in which we find ourselves. Add to this that we have not a single friend, that all the world is betraying us; some because of hatred and others because of weakness and ambition. I myself am reduced to such a pitch that I have come to dread the days when we shall be given a semblance of freedom.
At least in view of the impotence to which we have been condemned, we have no reason to reproach ourselves. You will find my whole soul in this letter Later I wrote:
“Tribulation first makes one realise what one is. My blood courses through my sons veins and I hope that a day will come when he will show himself worthy to be the grandson of Maria Theresa.” The fact was, I was ashamed for having had to negotiate with Bamave. I was not clever. I had no wish to live other than in a straightforward manner. To Axel I wrote:
It would have been nobler to refuse to accept the Constitution, but refusal was impossible. Let me advise you that the scheme which has been adopted is the least undesirable of many. The follies of the emigres has forced us to this; and in accepting it it was necessary to leave no doubt that the acceptance was made in good faith. “
I was very unhappy in this. I believed that my mother would not have approved of the manner in which I had acted. But then she had never been in the position in which I now found myself. She had never ridden from Versailles to Paris, from Varennes to Paris, surrounded by a howling, bloodthirsty mob.
The result of the King’s acceptance of the Constitution was immediate.
The rigorous guard was removed from the Tuileries. I no longer had a guard outside my apartments; I was allowed to shut my bedroom door and sleep in peace.
We had accepted the revolution and were no longer reviled; when we went out I even heard people shout “Vive Ie Roi“ It was February, the height of the cold, cruel winter. I was alone in my bedroom on the ground floor when I heard a footstep. I started up in terror, for in spite of the changed attitude towards us, I could never be sure when one of those figures which played such a prominent part in my nightmares might appear in reality, bloodstained knife in hand to do to me what I had heard threatened so many times.
The door of my room was opened, and I stared, for I believed I was dreaming. It was impossible.
I recognised him at once in spite of his disguise. He could never deceive me. And for the moment I was only conscious of joy—sheer unadulterated joy—an emotion I had believed I should never feel again.
Axell’ I cried.
“It is not possible !’ He laughed and said: ” Can you not believe your own eyes? “
“But to come here …! Oh—it is dangerous. You must go at once.”
“A good welcome,” he said laughing, and embracing me in a’manner which told me he had no intention of leaving me.
I could only cling to him, for the moment not caring what had brought him, how he had come, only that he was here.
I was dazed. One cannot easily leap from the depths of despair to the heights of happiness. I told him this. I wept and I laughed and we clung together and for a time shut out the whole world of sorrow and terror. This was the power of our love.
Later I heard of his fantastic adventure. He had written: “I live only to serve you,” and he meant k.
He had procured a false passport, on which he had forged the signature of the King of Sweden, the bearer of which was supposed to be on a diplomatic visit to Lisbon. The passport was made out for his valet, who took the part of the gentleman on the mission to Lisbon while Axel was posing as his servant. The papers had not been closely examined and they had had no difficulty in reaching Paris. He was staying with a friend in Paris who was ready to take the risk of helping him.
“As soon as it was dark,” he said, “I came to the palace.
I still had the key and found the door unguarded so I came to you. “
“They know you helped us to escape. This is madness.” It was—a divine sort of madness; and I could not help but rejoice that he had come.
Axel stayed with me all that night and the next day. On the evening of that day I asked Louis to come to my apartment as an old friend wished to see him.
When Louis arrived Axel eagerly told him of plans he had made for another escape.
“We should learn by the mistakes of the last,” he said.
“This time we should succeed.”
Louis shook his head.
“It is impossible ” Perhaps we should try,” I suggested.
But I saw the stubborn look in my husband’s face.
“We can speak frankly,” he said.
“I am accused of weakness and irresolution, but as no one else has ever been in my position they cannot say how they would have acted in my place. I missed the right moment to leave, which was earlier than we did. That was the moment to act. Since then I have never found another. I have been deserted by everyone.”
“Not by the Comte de Fersen,” I reminded him.
He smiled sadly.
“That’s true. And I shall never forget what you have done for us. My friend, the National Guard is stationed round the chateau. It would be a hopeless endeavour, and just as the position was worsened by our first attempt, so would it be by yet another.”
Axel was still convinced that we could succeed; and the King at last explained his true reason for refusing the aid which was offered. He had given his word not to attempt to leave again.
I was exasperated, but as Axel said to me: “The King is an honest man.”
Honest, yes. But of what use was honesty when dealing with our enemies?
Still Axel was certain that he could persuade King Gustavus of Sweden to come to our aid. He would return at once to his native country and work for us there.
We parted and he left. I was desolate to say farewell, yet his visit had stimulated me to such an extent that I felt hope returning. Axel would never cease to work for us. When I thought of that, I could believe that one day all would be well.
How ill luck pursued us. Axel had not been long in Sweden, where he arrived without mishap, when news of the death of King Gustavus came to us.
He was thinking of us at the end, because the last words he spoke were: “My death will make the Jacobins in Paris rejoice.”
How right he was. And another avenue was closed to us.
