standing the dazzling splendour of royalty, retained such tenderness of heart; who under the pressure of her own misfortunes shewed more sensibility to the woes of others. I never saw one so heroic in danger, so eloquent when occasion required, so unreservedly gay in prosperity."

And, again, "Pardon me, august shade! unhappy queen, pardon me! Thy portrait is near me while I am writing these words. My imagination, impressed with the remembrance of thy sorrows, every instant directs my eyes to those features which I wish to animate, and to read in them whether I am doing service to thy memory in writing this work. When I look at that noble head which fell by the fury of barbarians, tears fill my eyes, and suspend my narration. Yes, I will speak the truth, by which thy shade can never be injured; truth must prove favourable to her whom falsehood so cruelly wronged."

The character of the French Court at the period of the arrival of Marie Antoinette, was in the most extreme degree voluptuous and dissipated: it had sunk nearly to that degree of baseness, united with tyranny, which no people could tolerate; and Louis XVI., the most amiable of the last of its kings, was condemned to atone by his destruction for the crimes of his predecessors.

It is no piece of good fortune to be born a prince or a princess; and Marie Antoinette experienced this from her childhood; even her education was made subservient to the ambition or the caprice of those around her; and to the influence of the Abbé de Vermond, was to be attributed many of those

imprudent steps which, although trivial in themselves, must be regarded as the first causes of much of her unhappiness, and of many of the calumnies by which she was pursued.

The marriage of Marie Antoinette with the Dauphin was determined upon during the administration of the Duke de Choiseul; and the Marquis de Durfort was appointed proxy for the marriage ceremony, and ambassador to Vienna; but the subsequent disgrace of the Duke de Choiseul, six months after the Dauphin's marriage, enabled Madame de Marsan and Madame de Guéménée (for the ladies ruled every thing at the French court,) to appoint as ambassador Prince Louis de Rohan, than whom, Madame de Campan observes, a worse selection, or one more disagreeable to Marie Therese, could not have been made: immoral in character, no way respected by the Imperial court, and so much straitened for money, that he smuggled to such an extent, that Marie Therese, to put a stop to it without offending the court of France, was compelled to take away the privileges, in this respect, from all the diplomatic bodies. Madame Campan observes, she had heard the queen say, in the office of the Secretary of the Prince of Rohan at Vienna, more silk stockings were sold in one year than at Paris and Lyons together. This is the man whose existence was afterwards so injurious to the reputation of Marie Antoinette.

Madame Campan counts it her next misfortune, that the Countess de Noalles was assigned her for an adviser--an excellent woman in herself, but very improper to

be

be the counsellor of a young person of light and gay spirits: her mien was stiff and severe, nothing to win, without sweetness of manner, and totally unengaging.-Etiquette was her forte, and she wearied the young princess with her perpetual remonstrances. Yet in France this etiquette was necessary-her dignity and reputation depended upon it. The Abbé de Vermond, on the other hand, ridiculed both the etiquette and the adviser.

"The Dauphiness was then 15 years of age, beaming with freshness, and appeared to all more than beautiful. Her eyes were mild, her smile was lovely, her gait was aërial, and partook at once of the noble character of the princesses of her house, and of the graces of the French; and in this enchanting being, amid the splendour of gaiety, an indescribable but august serenity, and the somewhat proud position of the head and shoulders, marked the daughter of the Cæsars." This portrait was drawn by the hand of friendship and of love; yet doubtless the original was fascinating.

Sometimes she suffered herself to be carried away by those transports of compassionate kindness which are not to be controlled either by rank, or by the customs which it establishes. A fire happened in the Place Louis XV. at the time of the nuptial entertainments, and she and the Dauphin sent their whole income for the year to the relief of the sufferers.

A very old peasant was wounded by the stag in the forest of Fontainbleau upon a hunting occasion; the Dauphiness jumped out of her calash, placed the pea

sant and his family in it, had them taken back to their cottage, and bestowed every assistance and attention upon them.

Several persons in her service entered her room one evening, expecting no one there but the officer in waiting the young princess was sitting by the side of a man considerably in years: she had placed near him a bowl of water, and was binding up his hand (which was wounded) with her handkerchief, which she had torn up for the purpose. The old man, affected even to tears, left his august mistress to act as she thought proper. He had hurt himself in moving some heavy piece of furniture which the princess asked him for.

Had it been the good fortune of the queen to have been born in private life, she might indeed have been still a gay and thoughtless creature; but those warm, maternal, and domestic affections which existed in her bosom, would, in all probability, in time have made her such as might well be imitated: even through all the impediments of rank and of intrigue, the generous current burst forth, and bore down before it the cold barriers of etiquette and of pride. The station of a queen served only to heighten her character to that of an heroine; calm, constant, collected, yet a woman, and with a woman's weakness and imprudence. A remarkable instance of this lady-like imprudence appears in the circumstances of her preparation for flight. She could not be content to go without buying a complete set of body linen for herself and for her children; and, notwithstanding the remonstrances and assurances of

Madame

Madame Campan, who observed, that "a queen of France might find chemises any where," she exposed the whole plan by this unnecessary precaution to the utmost danger, and at last she completely ruined it, because she could not travel without a favourite travelling dressing-case, the removal of which discovered the whole.

The vivacity of her disposition could ill brook the absurdities of etiquette under the old regime; and of this etiquette she had the full enjoyment under the management of the Countess Noalles, to whom she had given the nickname of Madame Etiquette.

"The princess's toilette was a masterpiece of etiquette; every thing done on the occasion was in prescribed forms. Both the dame d'honneur, and the tirewoman, usually attended and officiated, assisted by the principal lady in waiting, and two inferior attendants. The tirewoman put on the petticoat, and handed the gown to the queen. The dame d'honneur poured out the water for her hands, and put on her body-linen. When a princess of the royal family happened to be present while the queen was dressing, the dame d'honneur yielded to her the latter act of this office; but still did not yield it directly to the princess of the blood; in such a case, the dame d'honneur was accustomed to present the linen to the lady in waiting, who in her turn handed it to the princess of the blood. Each of these ladies observed those rules scrupulously as affecting their rights. One winter's day it happened, that the queen, who was entirely undressed, was going to put on her body-linen; I held it ready un

folded for her; the dame d'honneur

came in, slipped off her gown, and took it. A rustling was heard at the door, it was opened, and in came the Duchess d'Orleans; she took her gloves off and came forward to take the garment; but as it would have been wrong in the dame d'honneur to hand it to her, she gave it to me, and I handed it to the princess; a further noise-it was the Countess de Provence; the duchess handed her the linen. All this while the queen kept her arms crossed upon her bosom, and appeared to feel cold. Madame observed her uncomfortable situation, and merely laying down her handkerchief, without taking off her gloves, we put on the linen, and in so doing knocked the queen's cap off. The queen laughed to conceal her impatience, but not till she had muttered several times, How disagreeable!—how tiresome!""

"Madame de Noalles abounded in virtues; but etiquette was to her a sort of atmosphere; at the slightest derangement of the consecrated order, one would have thought she would have been stifled, and that the principles of life would forsake her frame. One day, I unintentionally threw this poor lady into a terrible agony: the queen was receiving, I know not whom-some persons just presented, I believe; the lady of honour, the queen's tirewoman, and the ladies of the bed-chamber, were behind the queen. I was near the throne with the two women on duty. All was right; at least I thought so. Suddenly I perceived the eyes of Madame de Noalles fixed on mine. She made a sign with her head, and

then

then raised her eyebrows to the top of her forehead, lowered them again, raised them again; then began to make little signs with her hand. From all this pantomime I could easily perceive that something was not as it should be; and as I looked about on all sides to find what it was, the agitation of the countess kept increasing. The queen, who perceived all this, looked at me with a smile: I found means to approach her Majesty, who said to me in a whisper, 'Let down your lappets, or the countess will expire! All this bustle arose from two unlucky pins, which fastened up my lappets, whilst the etiquette of costume said, 'Luppets hanging down"

Can it be wondered, that as Madame Campan relates, in the midst of such perpetual wearisomeness, the queen should long for the freedom of private life, or that she should have had a wish to introduce the simpler customs of the court of Vienna? Some remarkable instances are given of her self-command, and of the fascination of her manners, by which, with a word, she could change an enemy to a friend.

"As soon as the most violent jacobins had an opportunity of seeing the queen nearer at hand, of speaking to her and of hearing her voice, they became her most zealous partisans; and even when she was in the prison of the Temple, several of those who had contributed to place her there, perished for having attempted to get her out again.

"On the morning of the 7th of October, the same women, who the day before surrounded the carriage of the august prisoners, riding on cannons, and uttering the most abusive language, assem

bled under the queen's windows upon the terrace of the castle, and desired to see her. Her majesty appeared. There are always, among mobs of this description, orators, that is to say, beings who have more assurance than the rest; a woman of this description setting up for counsellor, told her that she must now remove far from her all such courtiers as ruin kings, and that she must love the inhabitants of her good city, The queen answered, that she had loved them at Versailles, and would likewise love them at Paris. 'Yes, yes,' said another, but on the 14th of July you wanted to besiege the city and have it bombarded; and on the 6th October you wanted to fly to the frontiers.' The queen replied affably, that they had been told so and believed it, and that there lay the cause of the unhappiness of the people, and the best of kings. A third addressed a few words to her in German; the queen told her she did not understand it; and that she had become so entirely French as even to have forgotten her mother tongue. This declaration was answered by bravos, and clapping of hands; they then desired her to make a compact with them:

Ah,' said she, how can I make a compact with you, since you have no faith in that which my duty points out to me, and which I ought for my own happiness to respect?' They asked her for the ribbons and flowers out of her hat; her majesty unfastened them herself, and gave them; they were divided among the party, which for above half an hour cried out without ceasing, Marie Antoinette for ever! Our good queen for ever!" An officer of the Parisian guard dared to speak insolently

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to

to the queen in her own apartment, (when she was in custody there). M. Collot wished to make a complaint to M. de la Fayette against him, and have him broken. The queen opposed it, and condescended to say a few words of explanation and kindness to the man; he instantly became one of her most devoted partisans."

"One of the most furious jacobins, who marched with these wretches, (i. e. a mob who were parading, and carrying among other disgusting emblems a gibbet, to which a dirty doll was suspended and the words Marie Antoinette à la lanterne! written beneath it,) stopped to give vent to a thousand imprecations against the queen. Her majesty asked her, whether she had ever seen her. She replied that she had not. Whether she had done her any personal wrong. Her answer was the same; but, she added, it is you who have caused misery to the nation. You have been told so,' added the queen; you are deceived as the wife of the King of France and mother of the Dauphin, I am a Frenchwoman; I shall never see my own country again-I can be happy or unhappy only in France; I was happy when you loved me.' The fury began to weep, asked her pardon and said 'It was because I did not know you; I see that you are good.'"

How beautiful the mother and he wife appear in the following anecdote.

"As it was apprehended (after the 18th of April, 1790) that an attempt would be made to carry off the king, M. de la Fayette promised to keep a good look out, and told Louis XVI. that he

would give him notice by the discharge of a cannon from Henry the Fourth's battery upon the Pont Neuf. On the same night a few casual discharges of musquetry were heard from the terrace of the Tuileries. The king, deceived by the noise, flew to the queen's apartments; he did not find her in her room; he ran to the dauphin's room, where he found the queen holding her son in her arms. 'Madame,' said the king to her, 'I was seeking you, I have been uneasy about you.' The queen, shewing her son, said to him, I was at my station.'"

"The insurrection of the 5th and 6th of October, was directed against the queen in particular. The poissardes wore white aprons, which, they said, were intended to receive the bowels of Marie Antoinette, and that they would make cockades of them. French mob have, upon all occasions, borne the palm of sanguinary cruelty and brutality, from that of every other country.

The

"The queen at two o'clock in the morning, went to bed and to sleep, being tired with the events of such a day; she herself feared no danger, but her women, being happily more apprehensive, probably saved her life: they called their femmes-de-chambre, and all four sat against her bed-room door. At half past four, they heard yells and discharges of fire arms, and ran to awaken her and get her out of bed: at that moment the sentinel, attacked by a mob, with his face covered with blood, called out, 'Save the queen, madame; they have come to assassinate her.' The terrified queen threw herself out of bed; they put a petticoat upon her without tying