The Queen's Confession Part 26

Madame de la Motte made the most extraordinary allegations about everyone, but she did not mention my name. When one of her stories was proved wrong, she would immediately produce another. In the court, where one accused was allowed to question another, she confounded the Cardinal when he asked her how she came by such sudden wealth. He should know, was her answer. He was a generous lover and she had been his mistress; she reproached Oliva for her loose conduct; Cagliostro so incensed her that she picked up one of the candlesticks and threw it at him.

Cagliostro responded with his own invective ... words, which most could not understand; they concerned his mysticism and his aloofness from ordinary men.

But when she was confronted with Oliva's and Retaux de Villette's account of the scene in the Grove of Venus, she raged and stormed, and since she could not deny this took place, fainted. When the turnkey tried to help her, she revived suddenly and bit him in the neck.

With Madame de la Motte's wild behavior and Cagliostro's weird p.r.o.nouncements, the Cardinal stood out as a man of great breeding and even honor. Each day his popularity rose and as the stories emerged and the judges and the people tried to make sense of them, they became more and more certain that the Cardinal had been the dupe of scoundrels.

Oliva, who in the Bastille had given birth to a child which her lover immediately accepted as his, made an instant appeal to the spectators' chivalry. She had done no wrong. She had impersonated me, it was true, but she had had no idea for what purpose and when she was called to give her evidence, she was feeding her newly born baby and begged the Lords of Parlement to be kind enough to wait until her little son had finished his meal. Everyone was deeply moved and the lords patiently waited and it was reported in the news sheets that "The Law was silenced in the presence of Nature." What an impression she made with her bodice loosened and her long hair, so much like my own, escaping round her shoulders. When she showed signs of faintness, the severest of the lawyers was ready to catch her in his arms. Everyone was convinced that such a charming creature had been the tool of scheming people and was herself entirely innocent - which I am sure was the case.

And then Cagliostro in green silk embroidered with gold: "Who are you and whence do you come?" he was asked.

"I am an ill.u.s.trious traveler," he cried in loud tones, which provoked laughter, but he soon silenced that with his colorful invective; and I believe that there were many who, though they laughed in the courtroom by day, were in truth afraid of what such a notorious sorcerer might do to them.

And so they stood before the judges - the handsome Cardinal, the wild, beautiful and scheming Comtesse, the charming young courtesan with her baby at her breast, the adventurer Villette, and the fantastic magician, sorcerer, or wise man. Everyone was awaiting the verdict of the judges, which was of the utmost importance to all these people on trial - and perhaps equally so to me.

The judgment was given on Wednesday, 31st May, and the court opened at six o'clock in the morning. From five o'clock the streets had been filling and crowds had gathered in front of the Palais de Justice. Guards, mounted and on foot, kept the crowds in order from the Pont Neuf to the Rue de la Barillerie.

In the entrance of the Grande Chambre members of de Rohan's family had a.s.sembled; they were all dressed in mourning and had doubtless placed themselves there as a warning to the judges who must pa.s.s them by. They wished to imply that to do anything but acquit the Cardinal would be an outrage against the n.o.bility.

It became quite clear that the de Rohans were determined to bring their relative out of that court acquitted of all guilt. For this reason, as Madame de la Motte was judged first and judged guilty - for how could it be otherwise in view of the evidence - two of the judges declared their intention to press for the death penalty. This was a ruse on the part of these men because if a case was being judged which might incur the death penalty, no cleric must sit in judgment. Of the thirteen clerics among the judges only two were favorable to Rohan; therefore, by removing them from the seat of judgment, although the Rohans lost two votes in their favor, they rid themselves of eleven against. Such was the power of the Rohans.

Madame de la Motte was not sentenced to death, but she was condemned to be whipped naked by the executioner, marked with the letter V for voleuse on her shoulder, and imprisoned in the Salpetriere for the rest of her life. Her husband, though not present to pay the penalty of his crimes, was sentenced to the galleys for life; Retaux de Villette was exiled and Oliva was acquitted but not without blame, for she had actually taken part in the scheme to impersonate me.

Cagliostro was dismissed from every charge.

There remained the chief figure in the drama - the one whose presence in it was responsible for the great interest throughout the country.

An absolute acquittal was demanded. The Cardinal had been the dupe of scoundrels - but his good faith was undeniable. He was absolutely innocent.

"It is innocence, gentlemen," declared his counsel, "that I am defending, as a man and as a judge; and I am so thoroughly penetrated with my belief that I would allow myself to be hacked to pieces in maintaining it."

The battle was over. After sixteen hours of deliberation the Cardinal was acquitted without a stain on his character.

In the streets they were shouting. The women of the fish-market had a.s.sembled outside the Bastille with roses and jasmine. The Parisian crowds - the most easily excited in the world - were roaring their approval.

"Long live the Parlement. Long live the Cardinal."

When I heard the verdict, I suddenly realized its implication.

This was the biggest defeat I had ever suffered. In giving their verdict the Parlement had implied that it was not unnatural for the Cardinal de Rohan to expect that I would make arrangements to meet him in the park at Versailles; it was not unnatural to think that I could be bought by a diamond necklace!

I was overcome with horror. I threw myself onto my bed and wept. When Madame Campan found me there, she was alarmed by my wild grief and sent for Gabrielle to come and comfort me.

When I saw them there in my bedchamber, those two dear women whom I trusted and knew to be my friends, I cried: "Come and lament for your Queen, insulted and sacrificed by cabals and injustice." Then I was angry suddenly. The French hated me. In that moment I hated them. "But rather let me pity you as Frenchwomen," I went on. "If I have not met with equitable judges in a matter which affected my reputation, what could you hope for in a suit in which your fortune and your character were at stake?"

The King came in and shook his head sadly.

He said: "You find the Queen much afflicted. She has great reason to be so. They were determined throughout the affair to see only an ecclesiastical Prince - a Prince de Rohan; while he is in fact a needy fellow. And all this was but a scheme to put money in his pockets, in endeavoring to do which he found himself the party cheated instead of the cheat. Nothing is easier to see through; and it is not necessary to be an Alexander to cut this Gordion knot."

I looked at him, this kind but most ineffectual man; and I thought then of that day when they had brought us news that we were King and Queen of France and how we had cried: "We are too young to rule."

How right we were! We were more than too young; we were unequal to this great task - he through his inability to make a decision even when he knew the right one and I ... I was the foolish featherhead my brother Joseph had said I was - the silly child my mother had known me to be and feared so much because of it.

But at least now I knew this; and it was something I had not fully realized before.

The sentence was carried out on Madame de la Motte on the steps of the Palais de Justice. As was expected, she did not submit lightly. She struggled and bit her jailers and when the V was about to be branded on her shoulder, she writhed so violently that she received it on her bare breast instead. Afterward she was carried off fainting to the Salpetriere clad in sackcloth with only sabots for her feet, to live on black bread and lentils for the rest of her life. No sooner had her punishment been carried out than the people of Paris declared her to be a heroine. The Duc and d.u.c.h.esse d'Orleans collected on her behalf; good things were sent to the Salpetriere. My foolish Lamballe was caught up in the general enthusiasm and took some delicacies to the prison, which immediately gave rise to the rumor that I had sent her because my conscience troubled me. Then came the rumor that the story told by Madame de la Motte was true; that she had indeed acted on my behalf. It seemed, although I did not know it then, that the diamond necklace would never be forgotten.

A few weeks after her incarceration in her prison Madame de la Motte was allowed to escape and it was whispered that I had arranged it.

But when the libels began to pour in from England, for Madame de la Motte took to her pen when she reached that country, people still repeated this ridiculous story. The self-styled Comtesse was received in various English houses, where she told lurid stories of life at the French Court and I was always a prominent feature in them.

Having wronged me once, it seemed she was impelled to go on doing so.

This was a turning point in our lives and we knew it, both Louis and I. He was so good to me. He believed in my virtue, and I was grateful to him. He was tender and kind; but he did not understand how the earth was opening before us.

Now I know that had he stood firm then, he might have saved us. Had he shown himself resolute in the face of the Parlement, he might have kept some of that long-standing respect for the Monarchy which was fast crumbling away.

He should have been strong with me in the first place. He should never have allowed the affair of the necklace to be publicly known. It should have been investigated in private and settled in private.

"No one is more pleased than I am that the innocence of the Cardinal has been established," he declared.

But because I was so unhappy, so upset sensing the great disaster of this affair, he sent a lettre de cachet to the Cardinal exiling him to his Abbey of Chaise-Dieu.

He exiled Cagliostro and his wife. This was his weakness.

If he disagreed with the Parlement, he should have shown that disagreement Instead of which he accepted it and then agreed to the exile.

I could not rid myself of the terrible depression which had come to me.

Mercy wrote to my brother: "The Queen's distress is greater than seems reasonably justified by the cause."

It was true. But some intuition warned me that what had happened to me was the greatest disaster I had ever faced. I did not understand fully. I merely knew that it was so.

I had lost my lightheartedness. I felt I would never be gay and carefree again.

CHAPTER 19.

"When waste and unthrift deplete the royal treasury, there arises a cry of despair and terror. Thereupon the finance minister has recourse to disastrous measures, such as, in the last resort, that of debasing the gold currency or the imposition of new taxes ... It is certain that the present government is worse than that of the late King in respect of disorderliness and extortion. Such a condition cannot possibly continue much longer without catastrophe resulting."

-Comte de Mercy-Argenteau "I am worried about the health of my eldest boy. His growth is somewhat awry, for he has one leg shorter than the other and his spine is a little twisted and unduly prominent. For some time now he has been inclined to attacks of fever and he is thin and frail."

-Marie Antoinette to Joseph II "Four wax tapers were placed on her toilette; the first went out and I relighted it; shortly afterward the second and the third went out also, upon which the Queen squeezing my hand in an emotion of terror said to me: 'Misfortune has power to make us superst.i.tious. If the fourth taper goes out like the rest, nothing can prevent my looking on it as a fatal omen.' The fourth taper went out."

-Madame Campan's Memoirs Madame Deficit NOTHING COULD EVER BE QUITE the same again. For one thing I myself had stepped across the threshold of awareness. I was no longer the frivolous child. I had become conscious of my growing unpopularity and what had once seemed the height of pleasure now seemed a waste of time.

The leader of fashion, the frivolous seeker of pleasure who threw herself so wholeheartedly into games such as descampativos and guerre panpan, seemed like a silly child. I had grown up. Moreover, at the time of the verdict which had so distressed me, I was heavily pregnant and about a month afterward I gave birth to another daughter. My little Sophie Beatrix was delicate from birth. Perhaps the grief and anger I suffered at the time of the verdict undermined my health and that of the child; but the baby took my mind completely from that affair; and I would sit nursing the whimpering child and tell myself that I did not mind what happened to me as long as she grew up strong and healthy.

I had now four children. It was what I had always wanted. To be a mother; to live with my children and for my children.

The libels about me grew wilder and they were everywhere. Pictures of me were stuck on the walls of Paris buildings and in all of them I was depicted wearing the diamond necklace. The story was that it was in my jewel box; that I had made a scapegoat of poor Madame de la Motte. If ever I rode out, I was given sullen looks and silence. I thought often of my first visit to Paris when Monsieur de Brissac had told me that two hundred thousand Frenchmen were in love with me. How different it was now! Where had I gone wrong? I had been extravagant, careless, I knew, but I had never been vicious. Before my friends the Polignacs had urged me to interfere in the giving of appointments, I had kept aloof from state affairs. But I had to admit that my desire to please them had caused me to interfere. Strangely enough, my husband, who was a shrewd man in many ways, seemed to trust my judgment. I think he was bemused because of the admiration my appearance excited in others, and yet I was not a promiscuous woman. I had been a faithful wife, which was something which could be said for few women at the Court of France. I was a romantic; the sensations I craved were for continual excitement, the daring escapade, the preliminaries of love-making, flirtations - I was a coquette by nature - but I had no deep s.e.xual desires which must be gratified at all costs. Perhaps that early initiation which had been so frustratingly humiliating had had its effect upon me. Although I had always been surrounded by an admiring group of men and women who professed pa.s.sionate friendships for me, these relationships had never been physical. I did not desire that. The very idea would have been repulsive to me. My life must be rather like a Watteau painting - charming, delicately romantic. But how could the people understand this? And my conduct was such as to give credence to the terrible stories of s.e.xual orgies which were attached to my name. The King, however, preserved a reverence for me. I had been patient with his inadequacies, I had shared those humiliating attempts over a number of years and never complained to him nor blamed him, now I shared his triumphs. His manhood had been vindicated and I had played a very large part in the vindication. Therefore he wished to please me. And when I asked favors for my friends, he was very loath to refuse them, even though his common sense might have told him it would have been wise to do so.

I often think of him now with great tenderness. I remember his love for our children. How people would smile when he spoke of "my son" and "the Dauphin," seeking opportunities to bring the children into the conversation. And our children loved us. We were never King and Queen to them, but dearest Papa and darling darling Maman. I knew they had this special feeling for me. I was happy in my nursery; and I knew now more than ever that Louis and I should have been born in a humbler station of life. We could have been good simple parents. This was our tragedy.

How did the fearful disasters come upon us? Even now, I cannot entirely say. Even now I ask myself when that moment had come, the turning point in affairs of men which can lead to greatness ... or disaster. If my dear Gabrielle had not possessed such rapacious relations, perhaps things might have been different. No, that was too small a matter.

I was accused of working against France for Austria.

Every little incident was turned to my disadvantage, as people will do when they appear to be consumed by an all-absorbing hate. I was Austrian and because of this was resented in France.

My brother Joseph was at war with Turkey and Prussia and the French alliance with Austria had laid down that in such circ.u.mstances money or men should be sent to aid their ally. I knew of course that what Joseph needed was men, not 15,000,000 livres, which Monsieur de Vergennes and his Council had decided to send. I asked Vergennes to see me that I might ask that men should be sent and give my reasons why. Monsieur de Vergennes informed me that it was not politic to send Frenchmen to fight in the service of the Emperor Joseph; therefore the money would go. I explained that there was no lack of money at Vienna and that it was men who were needed, to which Vergennes asked me to remember that I was the mother of the Dauphin and cease thinking of myself as the sister of the Emperor. It was as though he believed I wished to sacrifice France for the sake of Austria, which was quite untrue. The money was sent. I was deeply distressed. I talked of it to my dear Campan, who during these days of uneasiness seemed to grow closer to me.

"How can they be so wicked!" I cried. "They have sent all that money from the general post office, making it known publicly that the carriages which are being loaded with French money are going to my brother in Austria. I, they say, am sending money from France, where it is so badly needed, to my brother. And, in truth, I had not wished the money to be sent - and it would have been sent if I had belonged to any other house. Oh, my dear Campan, what can I do? What can I say? But does it matter - for whatever I do or say they will be against me."

I try to understand now what was happening in France during those days when we were coming nearer and nearer to the precipice. In the days of Louis XIV the Monarchy had been supreme. His power had been absolute; and he kept it intact because under his rule France had become great. In war, art, and science he led France to become premier among nations. He was an autocrat, but he was a King of whom France could be proud. The pomp and etiquette of his Court did not appear to be ridiculous because he was in fact as grand as his setting. He was not named the Roi Soleil for nothing.

And there was his great-grandson, our dear grandfather, who had been so charming to me on my arrival. It was during his long reign that the pedestal on which the Monarchy was placed had begun to crumble. Madame Campan's father was right. It had begun long before we came to the throne. The people's heritage had been squandered in careless and extravagant debauchery. It was later said that not since the days of ancient Rome was there such profligacy as was practiced at the Court of Louis XV. But when my husband became King, there should have been a change. There could never have been a King of France less given to extravagance and he had never in his life practiced debauchery. He wanted to be good; he cared pa.s.sionately for his people; he asked nothing for himself, only their confidence in the belief that he was their little father who would make France great again. Maurepas was there to advise him; he listened to Maurepas; but when I made my requests, he would listen to me; and he was never sure to which of us he should give his support. He wavered. Was that what destroyed us? He was unable to think quickly, unable ever to make up his mind. This was not stupidity - quite the reverse. He was too ready to see both sides of a dispute, which was often the true aspect of the case, but it prevented his making a decision. Hence he would go a little way in one direction, hesitate, turn ... give way and then sway again. My poor Louis, whose intentions were always so unselfish, who desperately sought to find the right course and seldom succeeded.

He had trained himself to be calm in all situations and in this he was helped by his own nature. Yet all his good qualities worked against him; for this very calmness prevented his seeing disaster when it loomed right ahead of him. He would say: "Oh, it will pa.s.s. It is only a bagatelle."

Had it not been for the state of the finances, we might have avoided tragedy. Was it our fault that the country's finances were tottering on the edge of bankruptcy? To some extent perhaps I was to blame. My dear Trianon was like a greedy monster who put his head into the treasury and drank deep. My white and gold theater, my exquisite gardens, my Hameau ... they were all very expensive. But I did not think of the cost because they were so beautiful, and they made not only me but thousands of others happy.

Turgot, and Necker, had tried to right these finances and their methods had failed. Then we called in Calonne. His policy was to borrow from the people and decrease taxation. The yearly deficit was over 100,000,000 livres.

Everyone was talking of the Deficit. They had given me a new name. My picture, with the necklace, was seen everywhere and underneath it were the words Madame Deficit.

When Calonne had first taken over, we had all felt optimistic. We did not realize then that he was thinking only of the immediate present and that the fact that things did seem to improve was due solely to the confidence he inspired. But confidence was not enough. Whenever I asked if something might be done, he would bow courteously and say: "If what Your Majesty asks is possible, the thing is done; if it is impossible, it shall be done."

This seemed a most encouraging and clever answer; but it was not the way to solve our difficulties.

Then I forgot all these tiresome financial matters because the health of two of my children began to worry me and occupy my thoughts exclusively. I had accepted the certainty that little Sophie Beatrix would be a difficult child to rear; but now my eldest son, my little Louis-Joseph, the Dauphin, was showing signs of weakness. The trouble began with rickets and in spite of all the careful attention which I and the doctors bestowed on him, his condition worsened.

It soon became apparent that his spine was affected and my darling was going to be deformed. I was desperately unhappy; and my great consolation was in the good healthy looks of my dearest Madame Royale and her younger brother, the Duke of Normandy, who was healthy and lovely with his blue eyes and fair hair.

He was a strange child, my little Dauphin; perhaps it was because he was not as strong as other boys - he was introspective and clever - a little old man, he seemed at times. I loved him fiercely, as one does a child whose health gives continual cause for anxiety; I was constantly in the nursery so that I might keep an eye on the baby Sophie Beatrix. Gabrielle was my close companion, for she was governess to the children and it was very disturbing when the Dauphin took a dislike to her. I could not understand how anyone could dislike Gabrielle - she was so lovely in appearance, so gentle in manner, and she adored children. But there had always been intrigues against the Polignac family and although Gabrielle was unlike the others, she was a Polignac and no one forgot it. The Dauphin's governor was the Duc d'Harcourt, and I believe he bred this hatred in the Dauphin for his governess. I tried to stop it and this was noticed. I soon realized that I, too, was not to be allowed complete freedom in the management of my own nurseries.

I remember one day taking marshmallows and jujube lozenges to Louis-Joseph, for he was very fond of sweetmeats. The Duc d'Harcourt respectfully pointed out that the Dauphin was only allowed to eat such sweets as the faculty prescribed for him. I was momentarily angry that I should not be allowed to give him sweets and then, when I looked at his poor little body, I thought perhaps it was the doctors who should decide.

It was only a few days later when Gabrielle told me that the Dauphin had sent her from the room.

"You are too fond of using perfumes, d.u.c.h.esse," he said, "and they make me feel ill."

"But," protested Gabrielle with tears in her eyes, "I was not using perfume."

In some ways I found greater pleasure in my younger son, who was nearly two years old. He adored me and liked to climb all over me, examining Monsieur Leonard's elaborate headdress with the greatest interest and glee. He was gay and a little self-willed and very interested in everything about him; and because he was not such an important little person as his elder brother I thought of him as entirely my own.

Little Sophie Beatrix was growing weaker. I could not leave her; it was heartbreaking to see the wan little creature fighting for her breath. I shall never forget the day she died in my arms. I looked down at the still little face and until that time I had never known such unhappiness.

I laid her gently in her cradle and tried to comfort myself with thoughts of the other children; but looking back, it seemed that perhaps that was the beginning of all my sorrows.

The financial affairs of the country were getting worse and whenever people talked of the Deficit, they mentioned my name. My extravagances were responsible for it all; I was the Austrian woman who worked against France for the sake of Austria; I had crippled the finances of France by buying the diamond necklace, by the expenses of the Trianon. I was indifferent to these slanders. I thought only of the deterioration in the health of my elder son.

He was an extremely clever boy and would talk so wisely that it seemed incredible in one so young; but as I watched his deformity become more p.r.o.nounced with the weeks, I wept for him. He could not play as his little brother did, but would sit with his dog Moufflet always beside him, for all the children had inherited from me a love of dogs.

My husband mourned with me for the loss of our little daughter and the poor state of our Dauphin's health. I'm sure he was more disturbed on that score than by Calonne's suggestions to call together certain members of the n.o.bility and clergy - the Notables - that they might give their advice as to how the country could be extricated from the alarming position into which it was falling.

Calonne's idea was to abolish privilege and levy taxes equally. It was an idea which needed the most solemn examination. "Only an a.s.sembly of Notables could fulfill it."

My husband was alarmed. He knew that the calling together of this a.s.sembly was a direct blow at the power of the Monarchy; but Calonne pointed out that the great Henri Quatre had made use of it. Vergennes was against the idea and for a time Louis wavered between his ministers, and then the alarming state of the exchequer decided him to come down in favor of Calonne's suggestion. This a.s.sembly would consist of seven Princes of the Blood, fourteen Archbishops and Bishops, thirty-six Dukes and Peers, twelve Councilors of State, thirty-eight Magistrates, twelve Deputies of State, and twenty-five Munic.i.p.al Officers of large towns, and was meant to be a cross section of the people who could be most use in advising the King and Parlement.

Once he had made the decision to call the a.s.sembly of Notables, Louis was pleased.

He told me on the morning of the 30th of December: "I have not slept a wink - but my wakefulness was due to joy." Poor Louis! What little grasp he had of the true state of affairs. How he believed that everyone was of the same disinterested outlook as himself!

He went on: "The maxim of our kings has been: 'As willeth the King so willeth the law.' Mine shall be: 'As willeth the happiness of the people, so willeth the King.'"

He was happier than he had been since the death of Sophie Beatrix, believing that this measure would solve our problems. La Fayette, recently returned from America, was firmly in favor of the summoning of the Notables and the abolition of privilege. He had come back with ideas of a new liberty and he was not the only one. The philosophers were writing of liberty, preaching liberty. And in the Palais Royale, the domain of our old enemy the Duc d'Orleans, meetings were held in the gardens at which further abolitions were talked of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity were discussed. Frenchmen had helped to fight for these across the sea, so why not in France?

It was hardly likely that the Notables should succeed. Were the n.o.bility of France going to agree to pay taxes? Were they going to take on a greater share of the country's finances? The Notables were impotent. It was said that they were not in a position to impose taxes. The only a.s.sembly which could do that was a States General.

That was the first whisper of those words.

The Notables were a failure. In the streets they were using the Anglo-French t.i.tle of Not-Ables. This a.s.sembly could only resign and was a sign for the downfall of Calonne, who had been responsible for calling them.

The people were demanding the recall of Necker.

Who to replace Calonne? The Abbe Vermond was at my elbow. His friend Lomenie de Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, was the man for the task. He was certain of it. I always wanted to please my friends and Vermond had been close to me since my arrival in France - and even before - therefore I longed to make this appointment. The King did not wish for it; everyone was against it; he wavered; but I persisted and eventually he gave way.

Now I was caught up in state affairs. Lomenie de Brienne was not the man for the job; in fact the Parlement was against him and everything he suggested was opposed. The very fact that I had helped to make his appointment set them against him; and when in a futile effort to please me he brought forward the proposal that I should have a place at the meetings of the council and so have a say in the actual government of the country, the result was naturally to make me more unpopular than ever.

In the streets the people were shouting: "Shall we be governed by Madame Deficit? Never." They paraded with placards on which were crude drawings of me - always wearing the necklace, always inscribed Madame Deficit.

In the Palais Royale opinion against me was steadily whipped up; at Bellevue, which Louis had given to the aunts, my wickedness and depravity were talked of and fresh stories - the more fantastic the better - were concocted.

"It is the Queen," was the cry. "The Queen who is responsible for the woes of our country. Who else but the chief character in the case of the Diamond Necklace, who but the Austrian Woman, Madame Deficit."

Brienne had no new ideas. I was fast realizing that I had been wrong to ask for his appointment. He could only think of borrowing and wanted to float new loans. The Parlement disagreed with his propositions and the King, in a rare moment of decision, decided to support the minister.

"I command you to carry out the orders of Monsieur de Brienne," cried Louis.

Orleans was on his feet reminding the King that what he had said was illegal.