The Countess De Charny - Volume II (39 page)

“Yet political expediency should not be allowed to over-rule justice,” pleaded Malesherbes.

“But,” exclaimed the king, after the manner of a man who could not, or would not, understand, “what injustice was there in the revocation of the Edict of ISTantes. Was not the revocation of that edict necessary for the welfare of the state? “

So, in the eyes of Louis XVI., this terrible persecution of the Protestants, instigated by a revengeful bigot, this atrocious measure which reddened the rivers of the Cevennes valleys with blood and kindled hundreds of funeral pyres at Nismes, Albi, and Beziers, was not a crime, but simply a matter of political expediency.

There is another point, too, worthy of mention. A king who is generally born of a foreign princess, from whom he derives the greater part of his blood, is almost an entire stranger to his people. He rules them, that is

THE STORY OF THE M ART YE KIXG, 319

all. And through whom does he rule them? Through his ministers.

His subjects are not only considered unworthy of being allied to him by marriage, but of even being governed directly by their king. Foreign sovereigns, on the contrary, are considered the brothers and natural allies of a king, and lie can communicate with these sovereigns without the intervention of public officials.

The Spanish Bourbons, the Neapolitan Bourbons, and the Italian Bourbons, all came from the same jDarent stem, Henry IV., and were all cousins.

The Emperor of Austria was the brother-in-law of Louis XVI. The Savoy princes, too, were his kinsfolk, for Louis was of Saxon origin on his mother’s side.

Now when the people became bold enough to insist upon imposing conditions upon their king, conditions which he did not consider just, to whom did Louis XVI. look for aid? To his cousins, to his brother-in-law, and his kinsfolk. In his eyes, the Spaniards and Austrians were not enemies of France, for were they not relatives and friends of the King of France ? and, from a royalistic point of view, the king was the state, or in other words, France.

And what were these raonarchs coming to defend? The sacred, almost divine, rights of royalty. Perhaps this is the reason why Louis XVI. felt that he need not reproach himself for the crimes laid to his charge.

Doubtless the people, too, had their reasons, — reasons which seemed to them equally cogent, considered from their point of view, — for the outbreaks and excesses of July 14th and October 5th and 6th, 1789, as well as of June 20th and August 10th, 1792.

We do not include the atrocities of September 2nd, for, as we have said before, the Commune, not the people, was responsible for those.

320 LA COMTESSE DE CHAliNY.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE TRIAL.

The 26th of December came, and found the king prepared for anything, even for death itself.

He had made his will the evening before, because he feared — it is hard to say why — that he would be assassinated on his way to the Convention, the following day.

The queen had been warned that the king was to be again taken to the Assembly ; but for that, the movements of the troops and the loud beating of drums would have alarmed her beyond measure.

At ten o’clock, the king started for the Convention guarded by Chambon and Santerre.

On his arrival, he had to wait an hour. The people were having their revenge for being obliged to await a monarch’s pleasure for five hundred years in the antechambers of the Louvre, of Versailles, and of the Tuileries.

A discussion was taking place which the king must not hear. On December 12th, a key which the king had given to Clery was found in the valet’s possession. The idea of trying this key in the lock of the iron closet occurred to some one, and the key fitted.

This key was afterwards shown to Louis XVI.

“I do not recognise it,” he replied, though it is almost certain that he had made the key himself.

It was under such circumstances as these that the king showed his littleness.

When the discussion ended, the president announced that the accused and his counsel were outside; and, in a few moments, the king was ushered in, accompanied by Malesherbes, Tronchet, and Deseze.

THE TRIAL. 321

“Louis, the Convention has decided that you shall be heard to-day,” said the president.

“My counsel will read my defence,” replied the king.

There was a profound silence. The entire assemblage felt that a few hours might well be granted this dethroned monarch, — this man whose life was so soon to be cut off.

Now that it was about to lie down in its bloody sepulchre, perchance royalty would suddenly arise, clothed in the majesty of death, and utter some of those thrilling words which history records, and future ages re-echo.

But this was not the case. The speech of Desèze was simply the ordinary plea of an ordinary advocate, yet this was a notable cause he had to defend, — this cause of the descendant of so many powerful sovereigns, now arraigned before the people, not to answer for his own crimes alone, but for the crimes of an entire race.

It seems to us, that had we been in Monsieur Desèze’s place, we should not have spoken in the name of Monsieur Desèze, but in the name of Louis the Saint, and of Henry IV. It was certainly those great heroes of that royal line who should have been called upon to clear Louis XVI. of the weakness of Louis XIII., the prodigality of Louis XIV., and the debauchery of Louis XV.

Desèze controverted with great earnestness and adroit-ness, the long series of charges against the king; but he should have been flowery and poetical rather than logical. He should have appealed to the heart, not to the understanding.

But perhaps when this rather commonplace discourse came to an end, the king himself would speak. As he had consented to defend himself, perhaps he would do it nobly, grandly, majestically.

What he did say was as follows : —

” Gentlemen : My means of défonce have been made known to you. I will not revert to them. In addressing you now, perhaps for the last time, I solemnly declare that my conscience does not

VOL. IV. — 21

322 LA COMTESSE DE CHARNY.

reproach me, aud that my defouJers have spoken nothing hut the truth.

” I have never shrunk from a jnihhc investigation of my conduct, but it pains me beyond expression to find in your indictment the charge that I have ever desired to shed the blood of my people, and that the atrocities of the 10th of August are imputed to me.

” The numerous proofs which I have given of my love for my people, from time to time, seem to me abundant proof that I have not hesitated to risk my own life to save bloodshed, and my whole career as a sovereign should, it seems to me, shield me from any charge of wanton bloodshed.”

Can you understand why the successor of sixty monarehs,the descendant of Saint Louis, Henry IV., and Louis XIV. should have nothing more to say to his accusers?

Ah, sire, the more unjust the accusation from thy point of view, the more withering should have been thy indignation ! Thou shouldest have bequeathed something to posterity, if only a sublime curse hurled at thy executioners!

Much surprised, the president of the Convention asked : —

“Have you nothing more to say in your defence?”

“No,” responded the king.

“Then you may retire.”

It was five o’clock when Louis returned to the Temple. An hour later, his three legal advisers visited him.

“You see I was riglit,” the king remarked to Malesherbes. “From the very first, I saw that my doom was sealed.”

“As I left the Convention, sire,” replied Malesherbes, ” a number of persons came to me, and assured me that you should not perish, or at least that they and their friends would perish first.”

“Do you know them? ” asked the king, quickly.

“I know only a few of them personally; but I should certainly recognise them if I saw them again.”

“Then try to see each one of them,” said the king, “and tell them I should never forgive myself if another drop of

THE TRIAL. 323

blood was shed on my account. I would not permit bloodshed even when it might have preserved my throne and my life ; and I am all the more opposed to it now, when both throne and life are hopelessly lost.”

So Monsieur de Malesherbes left almost immediately to fulfil this request.

The first day of the New Year dawned, and Louis was lying sorrowfully brooding over his misfortunes, when Cléry approached the bed, and said : ” Sire, I beg leave to offer my most sincere wishes for a speedy termination of your misfortunes.”

“I accept your kind wishes, Cléry,” said the king, offering his hand to the valet.

Cléry took the proffered hand and kissed it reverently. Then he helped his master to dress. The king’s toilet was scarcely completed when several officials entered.

Seeing an expression of sympathy on the face of one of them, the king stepped up to him, and said: —

“Will you do me a very great favour, monsieur? “

“What is it?” asked the man.

” Will you go and inquire concerning the health of my family, and give them my best wishes for the year that is just beginning? “

“I will,” replied the official, deeply touched,

“Thank you,” said the king. “I hope God will reward you for the kindness you are doing me.”

“Why does n’t the prisoner ask leave to see his family?” whispered one of the other officials to Cléry. “Now the examination is over, I am sure the request would be granted.”

“To whom should it be addressed?”

“To the Convention.”

A moment later the official who had been sent to the queen’s room returned.

” Your family thank you for your good wishes, and beg you will accept theirs.”

The king smiled sorrowfully.

324 LA COMTESSE DE CIIARNY.

*’ What a ^ew Year’s day! ” he murmured.

That night Cléry repeated to the king what the official had said in regard to the possibility of securing permission to see his family.

The king reflected a few moments, then he said: “No, I will not ask now ; but in a few days they will not refuse me this consolation. We must wait.”

Judgment was to be pronounced on January 16th, 1793.

Monsieur de Malesherbes remained with the king several hours during the morning. About noon he went away, promising to soon return again and report concerning the result of a formal appeal he had made.

The vote was to be taken upon three questions terrible in their directness.

1st. Is Louis guilty?

2nd. Shall there be an appeal from the decision of the Convention to the people ?

3rd. If guilty, what shall the penalty be?

In order that posterity might see that no compulsion was exercised, the vote was taken publicly.

A Girondist named Birotteau demanded that each mem-ber should ascend the rostrum and state his decision aloud.

One of the Mountaineers, as the Extremists were called, went even further, and insisted that each vote should be signed.

Then began that memorable session which lasted sixty-two hours.

The hall presented a singular aspect which did not at all harmonise with what was going on there. The proceedings themselves were sad and lugubrious, — the appearance of the place conveyed an entirely different impression.

The rear end of the hall had been converted into loges, in which the prettiest women in Paris sat in their rich winter toilets of velvet and fur, eating oranges and ices.

Many members went to speak to these ladies and have a chat with them, and then returned to their seats, from which they exchanged signs with their fair acquaintances

THE TRIAL. 325

now and then. One would have supposed himself at the opera.

The Mountaineers were specially remarkable for the elegance of their appearance. In fact, it was with this party that the millionnaires now sat: The Duke of Orleans, Lepelletier de Saint-Fargeau, Hérault de Séchelles, Anacharsis Clootz, and the Marquis de Châteauneuf. All these gentlemen had seats reserved in the gallery for their mistresses, who were adorned with tricoloured ribbons, and provided with special cards of admission, which they presented to the ushers.

The galleries, which were open to the populace, wer^ crowded to suffocation all three days; and the occupants were constantly eating and drinking as if they were in a restaurant.

To the first question: “Is Louis guilty?” six hundred and eighty -three members answered, “Yes.”

Upon the second question, the Gironde was divided in opinion. Two hundred and eighty-one members favoured an appeal to the people; four hundred and eighty-three persons voted against it.

Then came the third question, — the momentous question, the terrible question: What shall the penalty be?

When they reached this stage of the proceedings it was about eight o’clock on the evening of the third day, — a cold, rainy, gloomy January day. Everybody was thoroughly tired out. Human endurance, on the part of the actors as well as the spectators, had been well-nigh exhausted by a session of forty-five consecutive hours.

Each member mounted the rostrum in turn, and voted for imprisonment, exile, death with the right of appeal to the people, or death.

Every sign of apj)roval or disapproval had been strictly forbidden. Still, when the galleries heard anything except the word “Death,” they murmured.

Nevertheless the word was in one instance greeted with derisive yells and hisses. This was when Philippe Égalité

326 LA COMTESSE DE CHAKNY.

ascended the rostrum aud said, “Thinking solely of my dut}’, and convinced that all who have endeavoured to destroy the sovereignty of the people, or who are likely to do so, deserve to die, I vote for death! “

In the course of this terrible scene, a deputy named Duchatel, who was ill, had himself brought to the Convention in his dressing-gown and night-cap. He came to vote for banishment.

Vergniaud presided, as he had done on the 10th of August, and it was he who pronounced the death sentence of Louis XVI. as he had previously pronounced his déposai from office.