rose, opened the window, and
appeared in the balcony; immediately all these worthy people said to her,
in an undertone: "Courage, Madame; good Frenchmen suffer for you, and with
you; they pray for you. Heaven will hear their prayers; we love you, we
respect you, we will continue to venerate our virtuous King." The Queen
burst into tears, and held her handkerchief to her eyes. "Poor Queen! she
weeps!" said the women and young girls; but the dread of exposing her
Majesty, and even the persons who showed so much affection for her, to
observation, prompted me to take her hand, and prevail upon her to retire
into her room; and, raising my eyes, I gave the excellent people to
understand that my conduct was dictated by prudence. They comprehended
me, for I heard, "That lady is right;" and afterwards, "Farewell, Madame!"
from several of them; and all this in accents of feeling so true and so
mournful, that I am affected at the recollection of them even after a
lapse of twenty years.
A few days afterwards the insurrection of Nancy took place.
[The insurrection of the troops at Nancy broke out in August 1790, and was
put down by Marechal de Bouille on the last day of that month. See
"Bouille," p. 195.]
Only the ostensible cause is known; there was another, of which I might
have been in full possession, if the great confusion I was in upon the
subject had not deprived me of the power of paying attention to it. I
will endeavour to make myself understood. In the early part of September
the Queen, as she was going to bed, desired me to let all her people go,
and to remain with her myself; when we were alone she said to me, "The
King will come here at midnight. You know that he has always shown you
marks of distinction; he now proves his confidence in you by selecting you
to write down the whole affair of Nancy from his dictation. He must have
several copies of it." At midnight the King came to the Queen's
apartments, and said to me, smiling, "You did not expect to become my
secretary, and that, too, during the night." I followed the King into the
council chamber. I found there sheets of paper, an inkstand, and pens all
ready prepared. He sat down by my side and dictated to me the report of
the Marquis de Bouille, which he himself copied at the same time. My hand
trembled; I wrote with difficulty; my reflections scarcely left me
sufficient power of attention to listen to the King. The large table, the
velvet clot
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