When I heard that Comte d’Esterhazy was going to Vienna I asked him to take a ring to the Comte de Fersen. It was engraved with three fleurs-delis, and inside, the inscription “Lache qui les abandon ne was engraved. I wrote to Esterhazy when I sent the ring. H you write to him,” I wrote, ‘tell him that many miles and many countries can never separate hearts. This ring is just his size. Ask him to wear it for me. I wore it for two days before wrapping it. Tell him it comes from me. I do not know where he is. It is torture to have no news and not even to know where the people one loves are living. “
No sooner had I sent that letter to Esterhazy, who I knew was my good friend and would do as I asked, than I was terrified that Axel would see it as a reproach and return to danger. I immediately wrote to him:
“I exist nothing more. How anxious I have been for you and all you must have suffered in having no news of us. Heaven grant that this reaches you…. On no account think of returning. It is known that it is you who helped us to get away, and all would be lost if you should show yourself. We are guarded and watched night and day…. Be at rest. Nothing will happen to me. Farewell. I shall not be able to write to you any more….”
But I had to write to him. I could not have gone on living during those dreary days if I had not. Soon I was writing again:
I can tell you that I love you and have only time for that. Do not be troubled about me. I am well. I long to know the same of you. Write to me in cipher by the post and address it to Monsieur de Browne and in a second envelope for Monsieur de Gougens. Tell me where I should address my letters so that I may be able to write to you, for I cannot live without that. Farewell, most loved and loving of men. I embrace you with my whole heart. “
I was deeply resentful of the manner in which we were treated. The doors of my apartments were barred at night, and the door of my room had to remain open. I felt reckless at times, resigned at others. But I continued in correspondence with Bamave.
At last there was news from Axel. He wanted to come to Paris and I was delighted at the prospect of seeing him, but at the same time terrified.
“It would endanger our happiness,” I wrote, ‘and you can truly believe I mean that, for I have the keenest desire to see you. “
I was staying in my rooms all day. I no longer cared to go out. I spent my time writing. My children were constantly with me. They provided my only Joy, my only reason for wanting to stay alive.
I wrote to Axeclass="underline"
“They are the only happiness left to me. When I am most sad I take my little son in my arms and I hold him against my heart. That consoles me.”
The National Assembly had prepared its draft of a Constitution and had laid it before the King for his acceptance. To ask for it was a meaningless gesture. The King was their prisoner. He had no alternative but to agree.
“It is a moral death,” I said to him, ‘worse than bodily death, which frees us of our troubles. “
He agreed, knowing that his acceptance of the Constitution was a sacrifice of all he stood for.
Louis was obliged to attend the Assembly; I went to watch him make his speech and it filled me with indignation and sorrow to see that the Assembly remained seated while he made his oath.
When he returned to the Tuileries he was so dispirited that he sank into a chair and wept. I put my arms about him to comfort him and wept for him, for although I now believed that had he acted with resolve and determination we might have escaped this dire misfortune, I could not help remembering his kindness and tenderness and it occurred to me that it was his very goodness of heart which had added to our troubles. I wrote to Mercy:
“As regards the acceptance of the Constitution it is impossible that any thinking person can fail to see that whatever we may do we are not free. But it is essential that we should give these monsters who surround us no cause for suspicion. However things turn out, only the foreign powers can save us. We have lost the army; we have lost money; there exists within this realm no power to restrain the armed populace. The very chiefs of the Revolution are no longer listened to when they try to talk about order. Such is the deplorable position in which we find ourselves. Add to this that we have not a single friend, that all the world is betraying us; some because of hatred and others because of weakness and ambition. I myself am reduced to such a pitch that I have come to dread the days when we shall be given a semblance of freedom.
At least in view of the impotence to which we have been condemned, we have no reason to reproach ourselves. You will find my whole soul in this letter Later I wrote:
“Tribulation first makes one realise what one is. My blood courses through my sons veins and I hope that a day will come when he will show himself worthy to be the grandson of Maria Theresa.” The fact was, I was ashamed for having had to negotiate with Bamave. I was not clever. I had no wish to live other than in a straightforward manner. To Axel I wrote:
It would have been nobler to refuse to accept the Constitution, but refusal was impossible. Let me advise you that the scheme which has been adopted is the least undesirable of many. The follies of the emigres has forced us to this; and in accepting it it was necessary to leave no doubt that the acceptance was made in good faith. “
I was very unhappy in this. I believed that my mother would not have approved of the manner in which I had acted. But then she had never been in the position in which I now found myself. She had never ridden from Versailles to Paris, from Varennes to Paris, surrounded by a howling, bloodthirsty mob.
The result of the King’s acceptance of the Constitution was immediate.
The rigorous guard was removed from the Tuileries. I no longer had a guard outside my apartments; I was allowed to shut my bedroom door and sleep in peace.
We had accepted the revolution and were no longer reviled; when we went out I even heard people shout “Vive Ie Roi“ It was February, the height of the cold, cruel winter. I was alone in my bedroom on the ground floor when I heard a footstep. I started up in terror, for in spite of the changed attitude towards us, I could never be sure when one of those figures which played such a prominent part in my nightmares might appear in reality, bloodstained knife in hand to do to me what I had heard threatened so many times.
The door of my room was opened, and I stared, for I believed I was dreaming. It was impossible.
I recognised him at once in spite of his disguise. He could never deceive me. And for the moment I was only conscious of joy—sheer unadulterated joy—an emotion I had believed I should never feel again.
Axell’ I cried.
“It is not possible !’ He laughed and said: ” Can you not believe your own eyes? “
“But to come here …! Oh—it is dangerous. You must go at once.”
“A good welcome,” he said laughing, and embracing me in a’manner which told me he had no intention of leaving me.
I could only cling to him, for the moment not caring what had brought him, how he had come, only that he was here.
I was dazed. One cannot easily leap from the depths of despair to the heights of happiness. I told him this. I wept and I laughed and we clung together and for a time shut out the whole world of sorrow and terror. This was the power of our love.
Later I heard of his fantastic adventure. He had written: “I live only to serve you,” and he meant k.
He had procured a false passport, on which he had forged the signature of the King of Sweden, the bearer of which was supposed to be on a diplomatic visit to Lisbon. The passport was made out for his valet, who took the part of the gentleman on the mission to Lisbon while Axel was posing as his servant. The papers had not been closely examined and they had had no difficulty in reaching Paris. He was staying with a friend in Paris who was ready to take the risk of helping him.