CHAPTER XV.
THE KING ON TRIAL.
As already recounted, John Lebrenn, in his capacity as municipalofficer, was charged on the night of December 10, 1793, with the task ofwatching over Louis XVI, detained, with his family, at the Temple.Occupying a room before the chamber of the ex-King, Lebrenn felt for theprisoner a sort of compassion, as he reflected that this man, notwithout his good inclinations, and endowed with certain undeniabledomestic virtues, had been pushed by his position as King to wrongfulacts which were about to bring down a terrible punishment upon his head.
Louis submitted to his confinement with mingled carelessness andresignation, rarely displaying either annoyance or anger at the rigoroussurveillance of which he was the object; he hoped that the penaltypronounced against him by the Convention would not exceed imprisonmentuntil after the peace, and then banishment. For his wife, his sister,and his son and daughter, he showed great solicitude; one proof of theinherent sin of royalty, which could transform a good husband, a goodbrother, and a good father--a man without malice in his privatelife--into an execrable tyrant, capable of every transgression.
The curtains which screened the glass door separating the ante-chamberfrom that occupied by the fallen King accidentally falling apart in themiddle, they revealed to John Lebrenn Louis XVI pacing up and down theroom, although his usual bed-time had long sounded. The King seemed tobe in a state of agitation which accorded ill with his apathetic nature.On the morrow he was to appear at the bar of the Convention; and duringthe day he had learned from Clery, his man-in-waiting, who, due to hissecret connection with the royalists, was informed of their moves, thata plan was afoot to snatch him from his escort on the way from theTemple to the Convention. Quite likely to turn his mind from thesethoughts, he opened the door leading into the room guarded by JohnLebrenn, in order to speak with him. The countenance of his watchmanseemed to inspire some confidence in the prisoner; perhaps he remarkedon the young man's features an expression of compassion, easy toconfound with the respectful interest of a subject for a prisoner King.He stepped into the room of his guard. Not out of respect for the King,but out of commiseration for the captive man, the soldier rose from thecamp cot on which he had been sitting. Louis addressed him affably, asfollows:
"My friend, I am not disposed to sleep, to-night. If you will, let ustalk together, that my sleeplessness may be rendered less irksome."
"Willingly, Sire," replied Lebrenn.
This was the first time since his captivity that Louis XVI heard one ofhis captors address him by that title 'Sire.' They called him habitually'citizen,' or 'monsieur,' or 'Louis Capet.' Seeking to read the innerthoughts of the man before him, Louis resumed, after a moment'ssilence:
"My friend, I do not think I am mistaken in believing that you pity mylot? I have been calumniated, but the light will break some day, perhapssoon: thank God, I still have friends. I know not what it is that tellsme you are one of those faithful and devoted subjects of whom I speak."
"Sire, I am too loyal to leave you a single instant in error. I do notaccept the designation of 'subject,' Sire! I am a citizen of the FrenchRepublic."
"Enough, monsieur; I was mistaken," bitterly replied Louis."Nevertheless, I thank you for your frankness."
"My words were dictated by my dignity, first of all; next, by my pityfor the misfortunes, not of the King, but of the man."
"Sir," cried Louis XVI haughtily, "I require no one's pity; thecommiseration of heaven and my conscience are enough. Let us stopthere."
"Sire, I did not seek the honor of this conversation; and, should itcontinue, it is well that you be under no illusion as to my sentimentstowards royalty. The Revolution and the Republic have no more devotedsoldier than myself. Now, Sire, I am at your service."
Louis XVI was not utterly lacking in sense; his first resentment past,he admitted to himself that the conduct of this municipal officer wasall the more praiseworthy, inasmuch as while declaring himself arevolutionist and a republican, he nevertheless treated a captive Kingwith respect.
"I was rude just now, I am sorry for it," he said at length. "Hoping fora moment to discover in you a faithful subject, I found myself face toface with an enemy. The disappointment was great. Still, let us talk alittle on this subject of your hatred for royalty. What harm have thisroyalty, this nobility, this clergy, against which you rail, done to youand your like?"
"I could, Sire, reply to you in a few words, by facts and not byrailings. But I wish not to wound your preconceived ideas, and above allto avoid giving you cause to make a sad comparison. This, Sire, is thethird time, in the course of fourteen centuries, that a descendant of myfamily encounters one of the heirs of the monarchy of Clovis; and thatunder circumstances--"
"Doubtless the circumstances were intensely interesting. What were they?You pique my curiosity."
"Sire, the circumstances are sinister. It would be painful to me to giveyou cause to draw the sad comparison between your present position andthat of the princes, your predecessors."
"Tell me that part of your legends, Monsieur Lebrenn. My curiosity ishighly excited, and my confidence in a brighter future will not bedimmed by your recital."
"To obey you, Sire, I shall. It was in the year 738 that one of myancestors, named Amael, a soldier of fortune and companion to CharlesMartel, found himself in Anjou, at the Convent of St. Saturnine. Myancestor was commissioned by Charles Martel to keep prisoner in theconvent a poor boy of nine, the only son of Thierry IV, the do-nothingKing, named Childeric. The child soon died, thus extinguishing, in thelast scion of the Merovingians, the stock of Clovis who had covered Gaulwith ruins.[11] Two centuries and a half later, in 987, at the palaceof Compiegne, another of my ancestors, the son of a forester of theroyal domain, found himself alone in the chamber of Louis the Do-nothingwith that prince; he saw him of a sudden faint, become deadly pale, andwrithe in agony. He apostrophized the dying King thus: 'Louis, last yearHugh the Capet, Count of Paris, had your father Lothaire poisoned by theQueen his wife, a concubine of the Bishop of Laon. Louis, you are aboutto die of poison which your wife, Queen Blanche, has just given you. Shehas promised Hugh the Capet, her accomplice, to wed him during thecoming year.' And so it was; the last of the Carlovingians dead, Hughthe Capet espoused his widow and had himself enthroned King ofFrance.[12] There, Sire, that is how royal dynasties are founded andended."
"These are strange chances, Monsieur Lebrenn," replied Louis XVI. "Oneof your ancestors charged to watch the last prince of the dynasty ofClovis; another ancestor sees perish the last scion of the monarchy ofCharlemagne; and this night you are to watch over me, whom you probablyconsider as the last King of the dynasty of Hugh Capet. You will soonperceive your error."
"Sire," returned John Lebrenn, "you insisted on knowing the occurrencesof which I just spoke, in connection with a question you put to me--"
"Aye, Monsieur Lebrenn; and in spite of the strangeness of thecircumstances with which you have just made me acquainted, I repeat myquestion. What harm have royalty, nobility and clergy ever done to youand yours, that you should hate them so?"
"To begin with, Sire, we know upon what crimes hang the rise and fallof dynasties; consequently we are unable to love and respect a royaltyimposed upon us by conquest. All monarchies have had a similar origin.The Count of Boulainvilliers, in this very century, established anddemonstrated that the land of the Gauls belonged of fact and of right tothe King and the nobility, by the grace of God and the right of theirgood swords: the Gauls were a vanquished race."
For several seconds Louis did not speak. Then he began brusquely,"Triumph in your hate, monsieur; you are here as the jailer of thedescendant of those Kings whom you and your fellows have abhorred forages."
"The circumstance which has placed me near you, Sire, is of too high anorder of morality to evoke in me a sentiment so miserable as that ofsated hatred."
"What, then, is the feeling which you do entertain, monsieur?"
"A religious emotion, Sire; such as is bred in ever
y honest heart by oneof these mysterious decrees of eternal justice which, sooner or later,manifests itself in its divine grandeur and seizes the guilty ones, inwhatever rank they may be stationed."
"So, monsieur, you make me a party to the evil my forefathers may haveperpetrated upon their subjects?"
"Monarchs are rightfully regarded as parties to the crimes of theirancestors, the same as they pretend to be masters of the people byvirtue of divine right and the conquests of those ancestors. Allinheritance carries with it its responsibilities as well as itsbenefits. You surely would not dispute that, Sire?"
"To-morrow rebellious subjects will arrogate to themselves the right tosummon their King before them to trial," murmured Louis, withoutnoticing Lebrenn's question. "The will of heaven be done in all things;it will punish the wicked, and protect the just."
As Louis pronounced these words, the porter of the Temple entered theroom, saying, as he handed John the letter from advocate Desmarais,"Citizen officer, here is a letter just brought for you by CitizenBillaud-Varenne, who enjoined me to take it to you at once."
"Good night, Monsieur Lebrenn," said the King; and turning to theporter: "Send me my waiting-man Clery, to help me make my toilet. I wishto retire."
Louis XVI returned to his room, while John Lebrenn, greatly surprised torecognize Desmarais's hand-writing on the envelope which Billaud-Varennehad sent him, quickly tore it open, his heart, in spite of himself,beating loud against his ribs.
The missive read, Lebrenn for a moment thought he was dreaming. Hehesitated to pin any faith to such unlooked-for good fortune, therealization of his dearest hopes. In vain did he seek to penetrate themotive for the singular condition placed by the lawyer upon hismarriage. Examined in turn from the viewpoint of duty, of honor and ofdelicacy, the condition seemed to him on the whole acceptable; he simplybound himself for the future to a discretion from which he had not, inthe past, varied a hair's breadth.
Why attempt to paint the ineffable felicity of John Lebrenn? The nightpassed for him in a flood of joy.
In the morning he was one of the municipal officers charged to conductLouis XVI to the bar of the Convention. Towards nine o'clock Chambon,Mayor of Paris, accompanied by a court clerk came to deliver to the Kingthe order to appear before the Convention.
A two-horse coach awaited Louis at the door of the great tower, withinthe precincts of the Temple. Generals Santerre and Witenkoff werestationed on horseback beside the windows. Louis climbed into thevehicle, and seated himself on the rear seat, beside the Mayor of Paris;John Lebrenn and one of his colleagues in the Municipal Council occupiedthe front. As soon as the carriage issued from the courtyard of theTemple, the King realized, by the mass of military force with which hisroute to the National Convention was hemmed in, that the Committee ofGeneral Safety had been informed of the royalist intrigue, and had takensteps to make impossible any sudden assault calculated to carry off theprisoner.
While Louis was on his way to the Convention, that sovereign assembly,already two hours in session, was calmly and with dignity transactingpublic affairs. The trial of the ex-Executive was, no doubt, of primeimportance, but to have changed its order of business, or to interruptit without cause before the appearance of the accused, would have giventhe Convention almost the appearance of intimidation before the actwhich it was about to consummate in the teeth of the allied Kings ofEurope. The countenances of the various factions presented singularcontrasts. The galleries were filled with patriots, who, in common withthe Mountain and the Jacobins, saw no safety for the Republic and theRevolution save in the condemnation of Louis XVI to the penalty ofdeath.
The dark and rainy sky of that December day sent its lightning flashesacross the windows of the vast hall. The members of the Right and theSwamp seemed weighed down by painful preoccupation; the Mountainistsalone were unmoved. One of the latter was speaking to certain articlesof a decree introducing some exceptions into the law on Emigrants, whena low rumor running through the chamber heralded Louis's approach. TheMountainist called for order and continued his discussion. The questionwas put to a vote and carried. Only then did the president, rising inhis place, say to the Assembly:
"I wish to inform the Assembly that Louis Capet is at the door. CitizenRepresentatives, you are about to exercise the right of justice; theRepublic expects of you firm and deliberate action; Europe's eyes areturned upon you; history will record your actions; posterity will judgeyou. The dignity of your session should correspond to the majesty of theFrench people; the latter is about, through your instrumentality, togive a lesson to Kings and a fruitful example for the emancipation ofnations. Citizens in the galleries, forget not that justice presidesonly over calm deliberations."
Then, addressing the ushers:
"Bring in the accused."
Generals Santerre and Witenkoff advanced to the bar, leading the deposedKing between them by the arms; they were followed by Mayor Chambon, andby John Lebrenn and his colleague. Several chairs were arranged near thebar. Louis XVI removed his overcoat, placed it across the back of hisseat, took off his hat, and sat down, with his hat on his knees. Hislarge, bulging eyes wandered here and there over the benches of themembers with childish curiosity. Then his face took on its usualexpression of apathy; his eyelids drooped, his loose lip fell down overhis fat and retreating triple chin; he settled himself as best he couldin his chair and seemed lost to his surroundings.
The bustle caused in the chamber and galleries by Louis XVI's entry,died out little by little, and Defermont, president of the Convention,took up the examination of the accused on the facts charged against him.
* * * * *
I have just attended the examination of Louis Capet. His answers,hypocritical, evasive, or spun out of the whole cloth; his denials inflat contradiction to verified facts; his obliviousness to all decency,to all dignity, if not as a King, at least as a man, aroused in allpresent, as they did in me, only pity for this prince who had neitherthe courage to confess nor the nobility to repent his crimes, but whoresorted for his defense to the weapons of the vilest criminal, denialand falsification.