III. 9. Dreadful accident which occurred on this occasion. CHAP. her birth on the day of the earthquake at Lisbon, and from the storm which had succeeded her nuptials. An unfortunate assertion of ancient privilege was the cause of this catastrophe. The provost of the merchants of Paris, in conformity with former usage, claimed the right of keeping the ground, and regulating the arrangements on the occasion, which would have been more fitly intrusted to the experienced ability of M. de Sartines, the head of the police. This demand was acceded to, from a fear of offending the citizens on such a joyous occasion; and the civic functionaries, in splendid dresses, but almost entirely inexperienced, appeared to keep the ground in the Place Louis XV., where the fireworks were to be let off. They proved wholly unequal to their duty. Already the crowd of persons desirous of leaving their places, and of others striving to get in from the Boulevards Italiens, had broken through their feeble barriers, and a violent struggle was going on between the two contending streams, when the scaffolds whereon the fireworks were exhibited accidentally took fire: the rockets, lying horizontally upon them, discharged themselves in great numbers into the crowd; and the fire-engines, with their huge horses and heavy carriages, advanced with rattling din at rapid pace through the mass, to extinguish the flames.1 1 Weber, i. 27, 28. 10. A universal panic now seized the people around the General scaffolds, who rushed with frantic violence towards the melancholy entrance of the Rue Royale, where they were met by as catastrophe. dense a multitude, which, ignorant of what had occurred, panic, and and seeing so many persons leaving the square, was making the most strenuous efforts to get in to occupy their places. The terrors of the issuing, however, prevailed over the eagerness of the entering column; the latter was pushed back, after a desperate struggle, and vast numbers, thrown down, were trodden under foot by the prodigious multitude which rolled over them. Fifty-three persons were killed on the spot; two hundred and fifty more, many of them mortally wounded, were dragged with difficulty III. from beneath the feet of the throng; and the ghastly CHAP. spectacle of the dead bodies and mangled remains of the yet living, ranged in rows along the Boulevards to await the recognition of their relatives, diffused universal consternation. The Dauphin and Dauphiness won general esteem by the earnest sympathy which they evinced on the occurrence,* and the splendid liberality with which they relieved the sufferers: but the mournful catastrophe, occurring on such an occasion, told on every heart, and very generally inspired the most gloomy forebodings. It was afterwards noticed as remarkable, that the disaster was owing to the presumption and inexperience of the chiefs of the Tiers Etat of the capital, and the undue facility with which the direction of affairs had been surrendered to them by the constituted authorities; and that the bodies of the victims killed on the Place Louis XV., 1 Weber, i. were deposited in the church of the Madeleine, which 26, 28. afterwards received the headless remains of the very prince 55, 56. and princess who were now the objects of such universal adoration.1 Campan, i. 11. at court, Time, however, at length made this disaster be forgotten; but Marie Antoinette soon found that her path was Jealousies not to be for ever strewed with flowers. The thorns early which make began to show themselves. Madame du Barri, jealous of the Dauphin the beauty, and apprehensive of the influence of the young phiness live Dauphiness, spared no pains to alienate the old King from her the usual animosities of the palace at a foreign * Marie Antoinette was so afflicted with this catastrophe that her grief continued for several days, and she frequently burst into tears. She sent her whole allowance for a month to relieve the victims; and the Dauphin did the same, accompanied by a letter to the Chief of the Police, couched in the most touching terms.-WEBER, i. 29. At the banquet given at Versailles on the first reception of Marie Antoinette, Madame du Barri sat at the same table with her. Ignorant of her character, and struck with her beauty, the young Dauphiness said she was "charmante." The Dauphin, however, better instructed in the mysteries of the palace, carefully kept her at a distance from the seducing favourite, who was surrounded by the homage of the whole court. Struck with this circumstance, and the great influence which Madame du Barri evidently possessed, Marie Antoinette said to the Duchess of Noailles, "Will you tell me what are the functions of Madame du Barri?" "To please and amuse the King," replied and Dau retired. III. CHAP. intruder were not slow in displaying themslves: senseless disputes, on matters of etiquette, kept several of the most illustrious of the nobility at a distance from her; she already found that "l'Autrichienne," as she was called in the highest circles, had many difficulties to encounter, and jealousies to get over, at the court of France. The open ascendency and constant presence of Madame du Barri at all the fêtes, which seemed to be arranged only for her diversion, and to afford opportunity for a display of the homage with which she was surrounded, induced the Dauphin and Dauphiness to live in a great measure retired, during the first years which succeeded their marriage. This conduct was as much in conformity with the tastes and wishes of Louis XVI., as the course which the strictness of his principles and correctness of his judgment dictated.* The Dauphiness, though passionately fond of amusement and all the excitements of her age, acquiesced without a murmur in her husband's determination; and the Parisians, accustomed to the ceaseless round of diversions devised to amuse the court, were astonished to hear of the heir and heiress of the throne enjoying the privacy of domestic life, walking in their gardens together, mingling Biog. Univ. in select circles of chosen friends, entering the cottages of (Marie An- the poor in the neighbourhood of Versailles, and making Michaud. themselves known only by never-failing deeds of beneficence to the unfortunate. † 1 Soulavie, ii. 60, 76. Weber, i. 37, 39. Campan, ii. 42, 63. xxvii. 73, toinette, par the Duchess. "In that case," rejoined the Dauphiness, "I will try and be her rival." It may readily be conceived what amusement this ingenuous answer afforded in the court circle at Versailles.-SOULAVIE, ii. 67, 68. * In the first instance, after his marriage, Louis XVI. was, by the arts of his preceptor, the Duc de Vauguyon, who was in the interest of Madame du Barri, for a considerable time estranged from the Dauphiness, and evinced a coldness towards her which touched her to the quick. Physical causes, on his part, which deprived France for several years of an heir to the throne, increased this embarrassment. But this unhappy estrangement, the result of base intrigues, gradually yielded to the graces, amiable temper, and uniformly correct deportment of the young Queen, who never let a murmur escape her lips during its continuance; and after she became a mother, Louis loved the Queen with the most passionate attachment. See MADAME Campan, i. 60, 72, and 186. +"On one occasion, when Louis XV. was hunting in the park of Fontainbleau, a stag, wounded and furious, leaped the wall of the forest, and making at the III. 12. Mr Burke's Marie An The spirit of chivalry guiding the pencil of genius, has CHAP. left the following portrait of Marie Antoinette, at the period of her accession to the throne :-"It is now," says Mr Burke, in a passage which will live as long as the picture of English language, "sixteen or seventeen years since I saw toinette. the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles ; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in; glittering like the morning star, full of life and splendour and joy. Oh! what a revolution and what a heart must I have to contemplate, without emotion, that elevation and that fall! Little did I dream, when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom ; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her, in a nation of gallant men-in a nation of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophists, economists, and calculators, has succeeded, and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever. Never more 1 Burke's shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex-Works, v. that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that flections on subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in Revolution. servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom.1 The first person he met, plunged his horns into the entrails of a gardener, who was pruning his vines. His wife, alarmed by the noise, rushed out of the house, uttering piercing shrieks, and fell down senseless beside her bleeding husband. On reviving, she was astonished to find herself in the arms of a young and beautiful woman, who, with tears in her eyes, lavished on her all the consolations which were possible in the circumstances. It was the Dauphiness, who, happening to pass at the time in her open carriage, alarmed by the cries, stopped the horses, alighted, passed the hedge, and reached the unfortunate woman before any one of her attendants. She was immediately placed in the carriage beside the Dauphiness, who carried her, with her wounded husband, to the palace, and bestowed on her the most liberal bounty. The poor man, beyond all expectation, recovered, received a pension, and was comfortably settled in a cottage, often afterwards visited by the royal couple."-WEBER, i. 32, 36. 149. Re the French III. CHAP. unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiments, is gone. It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honour, which felt a stain like a wound; which inspired courage, while it mitigated ferocity; which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness." 13. of the Queen. These are the words of glowing genius, of reflecting observation, and prophetic foresight; and cold, indeed, must be that heart which would withdraw one touch from the picture. They paint with beauty, and to a certain extent with truth, not only an individual, but an age, which terminated with her life. Yet must the truth of history in some respects dispel the illusion, and present Marie Antoinette with all these beautiful and interesting, with many great and heroic qualities, yet not destitute of the weaknesses of humanity. Contemplated at a distance, she was in truth the resplendent vision which captivated Mr Burke; but a nearer approach revealed the woman, and displayed many of the foibles, some of the errors, of her sex. Her heart was pure, her manners captivating, her conduct upright, her spirit noble; but these very virtues, by inspiring her with the consciousness of her own innocence, led her into imprudences which, in one of her exalted station, became faults. She had little education in matters of serious import, though highly accomplished in those which are personally attractive. Her taste was refined, and she was no common proficient in music, danced elegantly, and was passionately fond of theatrical representations. But she read hardly any thing but romances or plays; and the Queen, who was called to duties so difficult that an archangel might have shrunk from encountering them, had never in her whole life had a book of history put into her hands. * Hence she was * "L'Abbé de Vermond venait chez elle tous les jours, mais évitait de prendre le ton imposant d'un instituteur: et ne voulait pas même, comme lecteur, conseiller l'utile lecture de l'histoire. Je crois qu'il n'en a pas lu un seul volume, dans toute sa vie, à son auguste élève; aussi n'a-t-il jamais existé de princesse qui eût un éloignement plus marqué pour toutes les lectures sérieuses."-MADAME CAMPAN, i. 73; see also the BARON DE BESENVAL, ii. 207, 208. |