Revolution - Jennifer Donnelly [60]
The Duchesse de Polignac, the boy’s beloved governess, blinked back tears as she hugged him. It’s only for a little while, my darling, she told him. I’ll be back again soon. In the spring when the cherry trees bloom. I promise you.
We climbed a tree and watched their carriages roll away until only a cloud of dust remained.
The fifth of October, 1789, dawned rainy. No dust rose that day. Had it, the king might’ve been warned. He might’ve had time to think. To decide. To pile his family into a fast carriage and go. But there was only mud. Churned up by the feet of women and soldiers from Paris. They came armed with pikes and knives, with hunger and rage. They came for the king and queen.
A rider came ahead of them. I saw him. I was in the queen’s apartments, amusing Louis-Charles. Suddenly, there came the sound of shouting from outside. A man stumbled through the Marble Courtyard and up the queen’s stairs, trailing mud and courtiers. He scraped a bow, and in a ragged voice said, I come from Paris, Majesty. There was a riot this morning at city hall. The market women marched there to demand bread. When the mayor said he had none, they ransacked the building. Took arms and powder. The Paris guard was called out but refused to fire on them. One woman shouted that they must go to Versailles to ask the king for bread. The cry went up and they set off. Lafayette estimates them at six thousand.
We have the Flanders regiment here, and our own bodyguard, the queen said. They will easily fend off a crowd of women.
The man shook his head. The Paris guard marches with them, he said.
But Lafayette is their general! the queen said. Why did he not stop them?
He tried, but the guard is some fifteen thousand strong. Had he refused to go with them, they would’ve deserted him. Or murdered him. He leads them still. Barely.
The queen turned white. The king, she said. Where is the king?
Hunting, madam, came the reply.
Find him quickly! Before the mob does! she cried.
The king’s bodyguard was dispatched. They found him and rushed him back inside the palace. The gates were locked. His counsel was assembled. He must accept the the Rights of Man, his ministers said, and the decrees of August. No, he must flee immediately. No, he must do neither and stand his ground.
The king himself wished only to send the queen to safety with their children, but she would not leave him. And so he stayed and doomed them all.
The market women arrived in the evening, tired, cold, and wet, only to find the palace gates locked against them. The king spoke with some of them. He told them how sorry he was for their troubles and promised that grain would be got to Paris immediately. He ordered that food and wine be brought for them, which gentled them some.
But at midnight, the Paris guard arrived, and they were not so easily mollified. Clashes broke out in the courtyard between them and the king’s bodyguard. I was not abed, for I was too worried to sleep, but was up talking with Barère, captain of the dauphin’s guard, and I saw the skirmishing from a window. One of the king’s footmen, a man who was friends with the captain, came just before daybreak to tell us that Lafayette, on behalf of his soldiers and the market women, had read the king a list of demands.
One—he must dismiss his royal bodyguard and allow the Paris guard to protect him, Two—he must ensure food supplies for the city, and Three—he must leave Versailles and live in Paris. The king agreed to the first two, but said he must think about the third. Then he retired to his chambers while Lafayette rode to an inn in town, hopeful of finding a bed there.
I was told by Barère to return to my bed, but I did not. Out beyond the palace gates, torches burned brightly. I could not see the marchers in the darkness but I could hear them. The sound of oaths and curses, of shouts and drunken laughter, carried up to our windows. They were tired from their long march. Why did they not sleep?
I was much disquieted by them, so I left the palace,