“Four enemies,” he said, ‘are marching upon us: taxation, bankruptcy, the army, and the winter. We could prepare to deal with these enemies by guiding them. Civil war is not certain, but it could be expedient.”
Louis was horrified.
“Civil war. I could never agree to that ” Law and order would merely be arms to fight the mob. And does Your Majesty doubt which would win?”
The King looked at me.
“The King would never agree to civil war,” I told him.
Mirabeau was exasperated.
“Oh excellent but weak King I’ he thundered.
“Oh, most unfortunate of Queens! Your vacillation, has swept you into a terrible abyss. If you renounce my advice, or if I should fail, a funeral pall will cover this realm. But should I escape the general shipwreck, I shall be able to say to myself with pride, ” I exposed myself to danger in the hope of saving them, but they did not want to be saved”.”
And with that he left us. How right he was. How foolish we were.
But the King would only say: “I would never agree to civil war.”
I, too, was afraid of it—too much afraid to attempt to persuade him, which no doubt I should have done.
Mirabeau was not the man to give up because he had rejected his first plan. He knew of Axel’s devotion to me and they talked together of the necessity of getting us out of Paris.
Mirabeau believed this to be a good plan and suggested that Axel should go at once to Metz, near the frontier, where the Marquis de Bouille was stationed with the loyal troops. Axel was to discover the position there, explain the plan to Bouille, and then return to Paris with all speed so that the arrangements could begin.
Axel came to say goodbye to me and I was terrified.
Do you realise,” I asked him, ‘what these canaille would do to you if they knew you were working for us?”
He knew, he replied. But they were not going to discover. The plan was going through. He was going to transport me to safety.
“They would not care that you were a foreigner!” I cried.
“Oh, Axel, go away from France. Stay away … until all this is over.”
He merely smiled and took me into his arms. He said that he would soon be back from Metz and then there should be no delay. He would be leaving Paris and I should be with him.
So he went to Metz and I tried to settle into the routine of the new life so monotonous, but like a smouldering fire which will at any moment burst into a wild conflagration.
It was wonderful to see Axel safely back, but the news he brought was not good. Bouille was growing anxious, for the troops were becoming restive. News of what was happening in Paris was coming to them often highly exaggerated, and he was less sure of their loyalty than he had been. Bouille believed that inactivity was responsible. K decisive action was to be taken, there should be no delay.
Axel agreed wholeheartedly; so did Mirabeau.
You should begin making plans for the escape,” Mira beau told Axel.
“As a Swede you are less suspect than a Frenchman would be.” In the meantime he still clung to his first plan. He wanted boldness on the part of the King; he wanted him to behave as though he were a King, to go into the streets, to show himself. He was not disliked, the people showed their affection for him by calling him their link papa.
“I think it would be unwise for the Queen to appear in the streets,” said Axel.
Mirabeau lifted his shoulders.
“In an affair of this nature, certain risks must be taken. The mood of the people at this moment is such that I do not think the Queen would be harmed. That mood can, of course, change suddenly.” - “I do not care for the Queen to expose herself to the rabble,” said Axel fiercely.
So even between these two there was disagreement.
But there was new hope in the Tuileries. Axel was working for us as only a fervent lover could; Mirabeau was using all the fierce determination of an ambitious man, for the same purpose. I believed that this could not fail.
Fate was against us, for ill fortune always seemed close behind, ready to catch up with us.
I could not believe it when I was told that Mirabeau was dead. The day before, he had appeared to be in perfect health, his vitality astonishing everyone. By day he was haranguing the National Assembly, formulating plans with the Ring and at the same time working with the Assembly. By night he continued to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh. I heard that the night before he died he slept with two opera singers.
We did not know exactly how he died. All we knew was that he was no longer with us.
The verdict was death from natural causes; but we shall never know what killed Mirabeau. He was a man who no doubt suffered from certain ailments. The life he had been leading for so long may have made them inevitable; but there were many who said that the Orleanists had determined to be rid of a man who was trying to run with the Monarchy and hunt with the National Assembly. It would not be difficult to find someone ready to slip a little something into his food or wine.
The fact remained that we had lost Mirabeau, and with him, our best hope of restoring the Monarchy to France.
And so we were back to the routine of the Tuileries. I spent a great deal of time in my room, writing. I was learning now where I had taken my most fatal steps and how I might have acted. If I ever had a chance, I decided, I would not make the same mistakes again.
I was embroidering my tapestry rug with Elisabeth and we spent long hours together talking of the children; sometimes I played a game of billiards with the King. For exercise we walked in the Bois de Boulogne, but we were always uneasy when out of doors. Our experiences at Versailles had taught us that walls could not protect us from the fury of the mob, but there was a certain sense of security within walls. My son remained very friendly with the soldiers, and I encouraged this because I thought that he must inspire some affection in them and if the mob ever broke in on us as they had at Versailles these soldier friends H of his would protect him.
I was longing for the summer and the comparative freedom of Saint-Cloud. It seemed far away and I suggested to the King that we slip away to Saint-Cloud for Easter. He agreed to this and I said we would make ready.
Remembering how, when the aunts had left, the mob had surrounded their carriage and had debated whether or not to let them go, I said that we must not let it be generally known that we were going. All the same, certain preparations had to be made, and the members of my intimate circle knew of them.
I trusted them absolutely, although there was a new corner named Madame Rochereuil of whom I knew very little: but she had been well recommended and it never occurred to me to doubt that she ‘was not to be relied on.
Preparations were complete; Easter was almost on us;
the carriages were in the courtyard and we were ready to leave. But as we began the drive we found ourselves surrounded by the rabble; this was the same kind of mob which had brought us from Versailles to Paris. I felt sick with horror; my son turned his face from the window of the carriage and I put my arm about him to comfort him.
The insults came—the crude obscenities.
“Lirte Papa must stay with his children!” cried the crowd.
La Fayette came up with his soldiers and ordered the mob to retire and let the royal carriage pass, but he was jeered at and mud was flung at him. I knew instinctively that this was another organised revolt.
“You are behaving as enemies of the Constitution!” cried La Fayette.
“In preventing the King from leaving, you make him a prisoner and you annul the decrees he has sanctioned.”
But they would not listen to reason. What had reason to do with them?
They had been gathered together for this purpose; they had been paid to do what they did.
They leered in at the carriage windows. When the King tried to speak, they shouted “Fat pig I’ at him.
I could not help showing my disdain for them. It was something I could never hide. My looks betrayed the contempt I felt for these people.
“Look at her I’ they cried, ” Shall we let this putain dictate to us?”
