tody of the king and queen at first conducted them. But the
new Municipal Council, whom the recent events had made the real masters of
Paris, considered those rooms too comfortable or too honorable a lodging
for any prisoners, however royal; and the same night, before they could
retire to rest, and while Louis was still occupying himself in
distributing the different apartments among the members of his family and
the few attendants who were allowed to share his captivity, an order was
sent down to remove them all into a small dilapidated tower which had been
used as a lodging for some of the count's footmen, but whose bad walls and
broken windows rendered it unfit for even the servants of a prince.
Besides their meanness and ruinous condition, the number of the rooms it
contained was so scanty, that for the first few days the only room that
could be found for the Princess Elizabeth was an old, disused kitchen; and
even after that was remedied, she was forced to share her new chamber,
though it was both small and dark, with her niece, Madame Royale; while
the dauphin's bed was placed by the side of the queen's, in one which was
but little large.[1] And the dungeon-like appearance of the entire place
impressed the whole family with the idea that it was not intended that
they should remain there long, but that an early death was preparing for
them.

Even this distress was speedily aggravated by a fresh severity. Four days
afterward an order was sent down which commanded the removal of all their
attendants, with the exception of one or two menial servants. Madame de
Tourzel, the governess of the royal children, was driven away with the
coarsest insults. The Princess de Lamballe, that most faithful and
affectionate friend of the queen, was rudely torn from her embrace by the
municipal officers; and, though no offense was even imputed to her, was
dragged off to a prison, where she was soon to pay the forfeit of her
loyalty with her blood.

From this time forth the king and queen were completely cut off from the
outer world. They were treated with a rigor which in happier countries is
not even experienced by convicted criminals. They were forbidden to
receive letters or newspapers; and presently they were deprived of pens,
ink, and paper; though they would neither have desired to write nor
receive letters which would have been read by their jailers, and could
only have exposed their correspondents to danger. After a few days t