when neither of us allowed any cares to disturb us.
“You must go away I’ I cried. I had a horrible picture of his head on a pike as poor de Launay’s had been.
“Yes,” said the King calmly. He was the only one among us who was calm.
“You must make your preparations to leave.” ;
I wondered about myself. How high was I on the list? Surely at the top of it.
Then I thought of those dear friends of mine Gabrielle, who had been the subject of so much scandal; my dear Princesse de Lamballe.
I said: “And there will be others.”
Artois read my thoughts, as he used to in the old days.
“They are talking of the Polignacs,” he said.
I turned away. I went to my private chamber and I sent Madame Campan to bring Gabrielle to me.
She came startled; I took her into my arms and embraced her warmly.
“My dearest friend,” I said, ‘you will have to go away. “
“You are sending me away?”
I nodded, “While there is time.”
And you? “
“I must be with the King.”
“And you think …”
“I do not think, Gabrielle. I dare not.”
“I could not go. I would not leave you. There are the children.”
“Are you like these rebels, then? Do you too forget that I am still the Queen? You will go, Gabrielle, because I say you shall.”
“And leave you?”
“And leave me,” I said, turning away, ‘because that is my wish. “
“No, no!” she cried.
“You cannot ask me to go! We have shared so much we must stay together. You would be happier if I stayed than if I went.”
“Happy! I sometimes think I shall never be happy again. But I could find more comfort in thinking of you safe far from here rather than to live in fear that they would do to you what they have done to de Launay. So begin to prepare at once. Artois is going. Everyone who can must go … and perhaps in time it will be our turn.”
With that I ran out of the room, for I could bear no more.
I went back to the King. Messengers had come from Paris. The people were demanding the presence of the King there. If he did not come they would march to Versailles to fetch him. They wanted him in Paris; they wanted to take ‘good care’ of him.
If you go you may not return,” I said.
I shall come back,” he answered, as calmly as though he were about to set out for a day’s hunting.
The people demanded that his brothers accompany him. I trembled not only for my husband but for Artois. They said he was my lover; that was an old scandal, but the old scandals were resurrected now.
The coach was at the door and I accompanied Louis to it.
“God guard you,” I whispered; and he pressed my hand. His was firm. He was so sure that his people would do him no harm; but I could not share his optimism. I kept asking myself whether I should ever look on his face again.
I must occupy myself in some way. I dared not be alone to think. I kept visualising the mob breaking into the Bastille and de Launay’s head on the pike: but instead of the Bastille’s governor’s, I saw that of the King.
I would try to act normally. What should I do? My children were losing their governess. I must find a new one for them.
I thought a while and decided on Madame de Tourzel—a widow, a serious-minded woman, and she had what was becoming one of the most prized qualities, loyalty.
I told her that she would be appointed and she understood why. She would have known that in the streets they were burning effigies of Gabrielle with me, that they were circulating obscene pictures and verses about us.
Oh yes, Madame de Tourzel understood, and I wanted to tell her how I appreciated her for the calm manner in which she thanked me for the honour and swore to serve my children for as long as I should give her permission to do so.
I went to my apartments. I wanted to be alone. I was terribly afraid that I would show the anxiety I was feeling. What was happening to my husband in Paris? Had they gone so far that they would murder their King? What should I do? Should I prepare for flight with my children?
I would have clothes packed. I would order that the carriages should be equipped and ready.
I went to the children’s apartment. I must stay with them, for I was afraid of treachery.
My son brought the book of La Fontaine’s fables to me.
“Let’s have the one about the fox, Maman…. I saw a fox last night.
The soldier brought him in. “
I let my hand rest on his head.
“Not now, my darling.”
He looked puzzled.
“Where is Madame de Polignac?” he asked.
“She is in her apartments,” replied his sister.
“She is very busy.”
“Everybody is different today,” said my son. Then he brightened.
“Maman, come and I will show you my garden.”
“I think we will stay in today, my love. Yes … I will read to you after all.”
So I sat there reading, my ears strained for the sounds of a messenger with what dread tidings I dared not contemplate.
It was eleven o’clock when the King returned. I was sitting in my apartments in an agony of fear, waiting. He had walked back surrounded by the Deputies of the National Assembly and followed by a rabble of men and women who carried cudgels and shouted as they came.
I heard the cry: “Vive Ie Roil” and I felt my spirits lifted; then I ran down to greet him.
He looked very tired, but as calm as ever. His coat was stained, his cravat awry, and in his hat was the tricolour.
I was almost sobbing with relief and he was touched by emotion.
You should have been in bed,” he said.
“Why, you are worn out with waiting.”
As if we all found it as easy to sleep in face of such horror as he did!
But these people did not give us any peace. They were all crowding into the courtyards.
“The King!” they cried. And then: “The Queen! The Dauphin!”
I looked at my husband and he nodded. I turned to Madame Campan, who was constantly beside me during these terrible days.
“Go to the Duchesse de Polignac and tell her that I want my son to be brought here immediately.”
“And Your Majesty wishes Madame de Polignac to bring him?”
“No, no. Tell her not to come. These terrible people must not see her.”
Madame Campan brought my son to me.
The King took him on to the balcony and the people roared: “Vive Ie Roil Vive Ie Dauphin’.” And my little son lifted his hand and waved to them, which seemed to touch them.
“The Queen!” they shouted.
Madame Campan laid a hand on my arm. I saw the fear leap into her eyes. I knew she was wondering what they would do to me when I appeared.
But I must go out there on to the balcony. If I did not, they would storm the palace. They had cheered my husband and my son. They bore no malice at the moment towards them. But what of me?
