“My heart is too full of it for me to speak to you of anything but the arrival of my friend, the Baron d’Auerweck. He left France two days ago, and is now here, after having run every imaginable risk, and lost everything that could be lost.... We have the Paris news from him up to the 23rd; the Queen was still safe then. The Baron does not think she will be sacrificed. Danton and the Cordeliers are for her, Robespierre and the Jacobins against. Her fate will depend upon which of the two parties triumphs. The Queen is being closely guarded—the King, hardly at all. The Queen maintains a supernatural strength and dignity.”[50]
It was in London itself, at the Royal Hotel, that Lady Atkyns received these lines. She had hastened there so as to be better able to make inquiries.
But the Decree issued by the Convention, on October 3, ordering the indictment of the “Widow Capet,” give a curious contradiction to the assurances given by d’Auerweck. After all, though, who could dare to forecast the future, and the intentions of those who were now in power? The ultra-jacobin politicians knew less than any one else whither Destiny was to lead them. Had there not been some talk, a few weeks earlier, of getting the Queen to enter into the plan of a negotiation with Austria? So it was not surprising that illusions with regard to her reigned in Paris as well as among the émigrés in London.
Eleven days later Marie-Antoinette underwent a preliminary examination at the bar of the Revolutionary Tribunal. The suit was heard quickly, and there were no delays. Of the seven witnesses called, the last, Hébert, dared to bring the most infamous accusations against her, to which the accused replied only by a disdainful silence. Then came the official speeches of Chaveau-Lagarde and of Tronson-Ducoudray—a mere matter of form, for the “Austrian woman” was irrevocably doomed.
On the third day, October 16, at 4.30 a.m., in the smoky hall of the Tribunal, by the vague light of dawn, the jury gave their verdict, “Guilty”; and sentence of death was immediately pronounced. Just on eleven o’clock the cart entered the courtyard of the Conciergerie Prison, the Queen ascended, and, after the oft-described journey, reached the Place de la Revolution. At a quarter past twelve the knife fell upon her neck.
All was over this time—all the wondrous hopes, the last, long-cherished illusions of Lady Atkyns. The poor lady heard of the terrible ending from Peltier. Her friend’s letter was one cry of rage and despair, more piercing even than that of January 21.
“It has killed me. I can see your anguish from here, and it doubles my own. My anger consumes me. I have not even the relief of tears; I cannot shed one. I abjure for ever the name of Frenchman. I wish I could forget their language. I am in despair; I know not what I do, or say, or write. O God! What barbarity, what horror, what evils are with us, and what miseries are still to come! I dare not go to you. Adieu, brave, unhappy lady!”[51]
Many tears must have fallen on that treasured sheet. And still, to this day, traced by Lady Atkyns’ hand, one can read on it these words: “Written after the murder of the Queen of France.”
Were all her efforts, then, irremediably wasted? She refused to believe it. And at that moment two fresh actors appeared on the scene, whose help she could utilize. From the friendship of one, the Chevalier de Frotté (who came to London just then), she could confidently hope for devoted aid. The other, a stranger to her until then, and only recently landed from the Continent, was destined to become one of the principal actors in the game that was now to be played.
FOOTNOTES:
[29] Albert Sorel, L’Europe et la Revolution Française, vol. ii. p. 382.
[30] Forneron, Histoire Générale des Émigrés, Paris, 1884, vol. ii. p. 50.
[31] Abbé de Lubersac, Journal historique et réligieux, de l’émigration et déportation du clergé de France en Angleterre, dedicated to His Majesty the King of England, London, 1802, 8vo, p. 12. (The author styles himself: Vicar-General of Narbonne, Abbé of Noirlac and Royal Prior of St.-Martin de Brivé, French émigré.)
[32] Count d’Haussonville, Souvenirs et Mélanges, Paris, 1878, 8vo.
[33] Gauthier de Brecy, Mémoires véridiques et ingenus de la vie privée, morale et politique d’un homme de bien, written by himself in the eighty-first year of his age, Paris, 1834, 8vo, p. 286.
[34] Sorel, L’Europe et la Révolution Française, vol. iii. pp. 288, 289.
[35] On October 21, 1765, at Gonnord, Maine-et-Loire, Canton of Touarcé, arrondissement of Angers.
[36] Letter from Peltier to Lady Atkyns, dated from London, November 15, 1792.—Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.
[37] “In case of our not being able to find M. Goguelat, I have my eye upon a very useful man whom I have known for many years, and who was, indeed, a collaborator in some of my political works—he is the Baron d’Auerweck, a Transylvanian nobleman, a Royalist like ourselves, of firm character, and very clever.”—Letter from Peltier, Dec. 3, 1792.
[38] In two autobiographical memoirs, one written at Hamburg, June, 1796, and annexed to a despatch from the French Minister there, Reinhard (Archives of the Foreign Office, Hamburg, v. 109, folio 367). The other was written at Paris, July 25, 1807 (National Archives, F. 6445). Both naturally aim at presenting the author in the most favourable light.
[39] Letter from Baron d’Auerweck, December 17, 1792. It is addressed to Peltier under the name of Jonathan Williams.—Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.
[40] Letter from d’Auerweck to Peltier, Paris, Hotel Coq-Héron, No. 16 December 25, 1792.—Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.
[41] Letter from Peltier to Lady Atkyns, London, December 7, 1792.—Ibid.
[42] Narrative of the Municipal, Charles Goret, in G. Lenôtre’s book, La Captivité et la Mort de Marie-Antoinette, Paris, 1902, 8vo, p. 147.
[43] February 1, 1793.
[44] On this plot, see Paul Gaulot, Un Complot sous la Terreur, Paris, 1902, duodecimo.
[45] These are the Chevalier de Frotté and the Countess MacNamara.
[46] In the narrative of the Chevalier de Frotté, who mentions the Temple Prison (published by L. de la Sicotière, Louis de Frotté et les Insurrections Normandes, vol. i. p. 429), we consider that a somewhat natural confusion has arisen. It is, in fact, very difficult to assign any date earlier than August 6 for an attempt at the Temple; for on that date there is a letter from Peltier addressed to Lady Atkyns at Ketteringham, and there can be no doubt that if the lady had already left England, Peltier would have been aware of it. On the other hand, the letter published by V. Delaporte (p. 256), and given as written at the end of July, 1793, must be subsequent to August 2. These phrases: “They will not promise for more than the King and the two female prisoners of the Temple; they will do what is possible for the Queen; but everything is changed, and they cannot answer for anything, and, as to the Queen, they can say nothing as yet, for they have tried the Temple Prison only”—these phrases plainly show that the Queen was no longer at the Temple then. Finally, since in his letter at the beginning of August Peltier once more tried to dissuade Lady Atkyns from coming to Paris, it seems rational to conclude that the lady had not yet carried out her plan.
[47] The testimony of the Countess MacNamara was obtained by Le Normant des Varannes, Histoire de Louis XVII., Orleans, 1890, 8vo, pp. 10-14, and he had it from the Viscount d’Orcet, who had known the Countess. Although we cannot associate ourselves with the writer’s conclusions, we must acknowledge that whenever we have been able to examine comparatively the statements of Viscount d’Orcet relating to Lady Atkyns we have always found them verified by our documents.
[48] It has been sought to establish a connection between this story and the conspiracy of the Municipal, Michouis (the “Affair of the Carnation”), aided by the Chevalier de Pougevide, which failed by the fault of one of the two gendarmes who guarded the Queen. There may be some connection between the principal actors in these simultaneous attempts, but we admit that we have been unable to get any proof of it. It was necessary to take so many precautions, to avoid as far as possible any written allusions, and to veil so impenetrably the machinery of the plots, that it is not surprising that the documents, curt and dry as they are, reveal to us so few details.
[49] Note in Peltier’s handwriting.—Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.
[50] Undated letter from Peltier to Lady Atkyns.—Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.
[51] Unpublished Papers of Lady Atkyns.