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The storming of the Tuileries, 10th August 1792 – Part 1

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  • axel
    [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any
    Message 1 of 7 , Aug 9, 2010
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      [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.

      "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here – especially as I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like! Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction, especially on wet, windy days like today.
      *ahem*

      `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual – trying in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before returning to the palace for dinner.

      The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm – there had been so many after all.

      `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries and yet here we still all are.'

      Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'

      Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng – his own regiment had been recently been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.

      Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.

      `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged. `You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by the side of my Queen.'

      Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'

      Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it. This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.

      She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son again on the following day.

      She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a sudden certainty that they were doomed.

      The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew if she would ever see him again?

      TO BE CONTINUED

      * * *

      This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her kind permission.

      This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at http://madameguillotine.org.uk

      Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.

      Axel
    • axel
      In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792. We can feel
      Message 2 of 7 , Aug 13, 2010
      • 0 Attachment
        In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.

        We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.

        There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.

        Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to their homes but most stay at the Queen's side – for Marie Antoinette did inspire loyalty among her attendants.

        Axel


        --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@...> wrote:
        >
        > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
        >
        > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here – especially as I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like! Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction, especially on wet, windy days like today.
        > *ahem*
        >
        > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual – trying in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before returning to the palace for dinner.
        >
        > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm – there had been so many after all.
        >
        > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries and yet here we still all are.'
        >
        > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
        >
        > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng – his own regiment had been recently been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
        >
        > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
        >
        > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged. `You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by the side of my Queen.'
        >
        > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
        >
        > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it. This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
        >
        > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son again on the following day.
        >
        > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a sudden certainty that they were doomed.
        >
        > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew if she would ever see him again?
        >
        > TO BE CONTINUED
        >
        > * * *
        >
        > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her kind permission.
        >
        > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at http://madameguillotine.org.uk
        >
        > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
        >
        > Axel
        >
      • janet fauble
        Oh dear, I am having one of those mornings...can t recall author s names...the woman from Hawaii, Carolyn Erickson (maybe) wrote in the Diary of Marie
        Message 3 of 7 , Aug 13, 2010
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          Oh dear, I am having one of those mornings...can't recall author's names...the woman from Hawaii, Carolyn Erickson (maybe) wrote in the Diary of Marie Antoinette incidents that truly impressed me about how seriously in danger the Queen had been.  That she had suffered many attempts on her life while walking in the gardens..Because of that book, not knowing whether it is faithful to history or just made up pretend fiction, I had the impression that Antoinette had known many different attempts on her life.
           
          I liked Melanie's ability to sense the king's clammy hands, his nervousness, yet his supposed strength in protecting her.  I agree that Melanie has a great empathy for what had happened on that day.  It was so stressful that in thinking about it, I am sure that few today would be able to sympathize unless under a similar threat. 
           
          The king had also been under threat, and both had stared down the looks of the hateful mob upon their return from their flight to Varennes, so that by this time in the walls of the palace they probably had become more accustomed to this ongoing torrent of hatred and invective thrown at them.
           
          I remember seeing a car which Richard Nixon had been in being jostled and tossed about. I rather imagine that he himself had moments when he could have sympathized with the King and Queen...maybe that is why he chose to say au revoir in his statements to those who gathered round him when he left the WH.  I have identified with Nixon at times enough to understand the relationship to the King and Queen as well, believe it or not, more because he made me aware of it than anything else...if it happened to me, it happened to him...
          Jan
           
           
           


          From: axel <Rand103242@...>
          To: Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com
          Sent: Fri, August 13, 2010 9:34:37 AM
          Subject: Last coucher of Queen Marie Antoinette – Passing of an Era

           

          In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.

          We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.

          There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.

          Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to their homes but most stay at the Queen's side – for Marie Antoinette did inspire loyalty among her attendants.

          Axel

          --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@...> wrote:

          >
          > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
          >
          > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here – especially as I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like! Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction, especially on wet, windy days like today.
          > *ahem*
          >
          > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time
          before she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual – trying in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before returning to the palace for dinner.
          >
          > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm – there had been so many after all.
          >
          > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault
          on the Tuileries and yet here we still all are.'
          >
          > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
          >
          > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng – his own regiment had been recently been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
          >
          > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and now could not help but wonder if this
          time the end really was coming for them all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
          >
          > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged. `You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by the side of my Queen.'
          >
          > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
          >
          > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher,
          when she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it. This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
          >
          > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and her sister Cassandre and now
          could only pray that she would see them and her son again on the following day.
          >
          > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a sudden certainty that they were doomed.
          >
          > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring together. Lucrèce alone
          found it impossible to find the right words and instead knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew if she would ever see him again?
          >
          > TO BE CONTINUED
          >
          > * * *
          >
          > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her kind permission.
          >
          > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at http://madameguillotine.org.uk
          >
          > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
          >
          > Axel
          >


        • alecker23
          Hi Axel, Thanks for your last pics add.Threfore I want to give a remark.One of yours pics don t represented Louis XVIII.In fact the pic presnted the Louis
          Message 4 of 7 , Aug 13, 2010
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            Hi Axel,

            Thanks for your last pics add.Threfore I want to give a remark.One of yours pics don't represented Louis XVIII.In fact the pic presnted the Louis XVIII departure on Paris after Napoleon return from Elba island...

            --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@...> wrote:
            >
            > In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.
            >
            > We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.
            >
            > There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.
            >
            > Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to their homes but most stay at the Queen's side – for Marie Antoinette did inspire loyalty among her attendants.
            >
            > Axel
            >
            >
            > --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@> wrote:
            > >
            > > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
            > >
            > > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here – especially as I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like! Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction, especially on wet, windy days like today.
            > > *ahem*
            > >
            > > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual – trying in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before returning to the palace for dinner.
            > >
            > > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm – there had been so many after all.
            > >
            > > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries and yet here we still all are.'
            > >
            > > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
            > >
            > > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng – his own regiment had been recently been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
            > >
            > > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
            > >
            > > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged. `You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by the side of my Queen.'
            > >
            > > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
            > >
            > > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it. This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
            > >
            > > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son again on the following day.
            > >
            > > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a sudden certainty that they were doomed.
            > >
            > > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew if she would ever see him again?
            > >
            > > TO BE CONTINUED
            > >
            > > * * *
            > >
            > > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her kind permission.
            > >
            > > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at http://madameguillotine.org.uk
            > >
            > > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
            > >
            > > Axel
            > >
            >
          • alecker23
            Hi Jan, Do you know that Michelle Obama is nicknamed Marie-Antoinette by american columnists? Amity
            Message 5 of 7 , Aug 13, 2010
            • 0 Attachment
              Hi Jan,


              Do you know that Michelle Obama is nicknamed ''Marie-Antoinette''by american columnists?

              Amity

              --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, janet fauble <janetcfauble@...> wrote:
              >
              > Oh dear, I am having one of those mornings...can't recall author's names...the
              > woman from Hawaii, Carolyn Erickson (maybe) wrote in the Diary of Marie
              > Antoinette incidents that truly impressed me about how seriously in danger the
              > Queen had been.  That she had suffered many attempts on her life while walking
              > in the gardens..Because of that book, not knowing whether it is faithful to
              > history or just made up pretend fiction, I had the impression that Antoinette
              > had known many different attempts on her life.
              >
              > I liked Melanie's ability to sense the king's clammy hands, his nervousness, yet
              > his supposed strength in protecting her.  I agree that Melanie has a great
              > empathy for what had happened on that day.  It was so stressful that in thinking
              > about it, I am sure that few today would be able to sympathize unless under a
              > similar threat. 
              >
              >
              > The king had also been under threat, and both had stared down the looks of the
              > hateful mob upon their return from their flight to Varennes, so that by this
              > time in the walls of the palace they probably had become more accustomed to this
              > ongoing torrent of hatred and invective thrown at them.
              >
              > I remember seeing a car which Richard Nixon had been in being jostled and tossed
              > about. I rather imagine that he himself had moments when he could have
              > sympathized with the King and Queen...maybe that is why he chose to say au
              > revoir in his statements to those who gathered round him when he left the WH.  I
              > have identified with Nixon at times enough to understand the relationship to the
              > King and Queen as well, believe it or not, more because he made me aware of it
              > than anything else...if it happened to me, it happened to him...
              > Jan
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > ________________________________
              > From: axel <Rand103242@...>
              > To: Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com
              > Sent: Fri, August 13, 2010 9:34:37 AM
              > Subject: Last coucher of Queen Marie Antoinette â€" Passing of an Era
              >
              >  
              > In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a
              > sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.
              >
              >
              > We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that
              > there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.
              >
              >
              > There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be
              > ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night
              > of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.
              >
              >
              > Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to
              > their homes but most stay at the Queen's side â€" for Marie Antoinette did inspire
              > loyalty among her attendants.
              >
              > Axel
              >
              > --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@>
              > wrote:
              > >
              > > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries
              > >Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any
              > >pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
              > >
              > > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the
              > >dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th
              > >August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here â€" especially as
              > >I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like!
              > >Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction,
              > >especially on wet, windy days like today.
              > > *ahem*
              > >
              > > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with
              > >attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The
              > >prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before
              > >she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all
              > >become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying
              > >and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual â€" trying
              > >in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and
              > >taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before
              > >returning to the palace for dinner.
              > >
              > > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip
              > >that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce
              > >learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she
              > >did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm â€"
              > >there had been so many after all.
              > >
              > > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her
              > >embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries
              > >and yet here we still all are.'
              > >
              > > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly
              > >jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la
              > >Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
              > >
              > >
              > > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window
              > >which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds
              > >of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red
              > >of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if
              > >Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng â€" his own regiment had been recently
              > >been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless
              > >of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
              > >
              > > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and
              > >now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them
              > >all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
              > >
              > > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged.
              > >`You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by
              > >the side of my Queen.'
              > >
              > > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in
              > >her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew
              > >that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her
              > >Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby
              > >son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it
              > >be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a
              > >gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
              > >
              > >
              > > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when
              > >she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it.
              > >This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the
              > >great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there
              > >were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made
              > >her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies
              > >made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the
              > >sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness
              > >fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room
              > >lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
              > >
              > > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and
              > >wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had
              > >managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and
              > >her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son
              > >again on the following day.
              > >
              > >
              > > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty
              > >daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris
              > >and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and
              > >running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the
              > >gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift
              > >camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the
              > >other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several
              > >hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a
              > >sudden certainty that they were doomed.
              > >
              > > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray
              > >and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring
              > >together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead
              > >knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew
              > >if she would ever see him again?
              > >
              > > TO BE CONTINUED
              > >
              > > * * *
              > >
              > > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her
              > >kind permission.
              > >
              > >
              > > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts
              > >on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at
              > >http://madameguillotine.org.uk
              > >
              > > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on
              > >August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
              > >
              > >
              > > Axel
              > >
              >
            • janet fauble
              Thanks, Alecker, for that information about the American columnists...It says more about the lack of knowledge by the media than it does about either the Queen
              Message 6 of 7 , Aug 13, 2010
              • 0 Attachment
                Thanks, Alecker, for that information about the American columnists...It says more about the lack of knowledge by the media than it does about either the Queen or Michelle Obama.  But I also recall when they said it about Jackie Kennedy, especially after she slept in the Queen's bed at the Versailles. I remember an old editorial cartoon depicting the Kennedy's as the King and Queen of France, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.  The irony is that when in France the first lady was coiffed in a hairstyle for one of King Louis XIV's mistresses.  So it is strange that media columnists never seem to be very good at accuracy in reporting...:-)  Jan


                From: alecker23 <alecker23@...>
                To: Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com
                Sent: Fri, August 13, 2010 9:02:02 PM
                Subject: Re: Nervousness of Louis and Threats to life of Marie Antoinette

                 

                Hi Jan,

                Do you know that Michelle Obama is nicknamed ''Marie-Antoinette''by american columnists?

                Amity

                --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, janet fauble <janetcfauble@...> wrote:
                >
                > Oh dear, I am having one of those mornings...can't recall author's names...the
                > woman from Hawaii, Carolyn Erickson (maybe) wrote in the Diary of Marie
                > Antoinette incidents that truly impressed me about how seriously in danger the
                > Queen had been.  That she had suffered many attempts on her life while walking
                > in the gardens..Because of that book, not knowing whether it is faithful to
                > history or just made up pretend fiction, I had the impression that Antoinette
                > had known many different attempts on her life.
                >
                > I liked Melanie's ability to sense the king's clammy hands, his nervousness, yet
                > his supposed strength in protecting her.  I agree that Melanie has a great
                > empathy for what had happened on that day.  It was so stressful that in thinking
                > about it, I am sure that few today would be able to sympathize unless under a
                > similar threat. 
                >
                >
                > The king had also been under threat, and both had stared down the looks of the
                > hateful mob upon their return from their flight to Varennes, so that by this
                > time in the walls of the palace they probably had become more accustomed to this
                > ongoing torrent of hatred and invective thrown at them.
                >
                > I remember seeing a car which Richard Nixon had been in being jostled and tossed
                > about. I rather imagine that he himself had moments when he could have
                > sympathized with the King and Queen...maybe that is why he chose to say au
                > revoir in his statements to those who gathered round him when he left the WH.  I
                > have identified with Nixon at times enough to understand the relationship to the
                > King and Queen as well, believe it or not, more because he made me aware of it
                > than anything else...if it happened to me, it happened to him...
                > Jan
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                > ________________________________
                > From: axel <Rand103242@...>
                > To: Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com
                > Sent: Fri, August 13, 2010 9:34:37 AM
                > Subject: Last coucher of Queen Marie Antoinette â€" Passing of an Era
                >
                >  
                > In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a
                > sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.
                >
                >
                > We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that
                > there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.
                >
                >
                > There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be
                > ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night
                > of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.
                >
                >
                > Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to
                > their homes but most stay at the Queen's side â€" for Marie Antoinette did inspire
                > loyalty among her attendants.
                >
                > Axel
                >
                > --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@>
                > wrote:
                > >
                > > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries
                > >Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any
                > >pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
                > >
                > > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the
                > >dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th
                > >August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here â€" especially as
                > >I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like!
                > >Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction,
                > >especially on wet, windy days like today.
                > > *ahem*
                > >
                > > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with
                > >attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The
                > >prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before
                > >she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all
                > >become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying
                > >and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual â€" trying
                > >in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and
                > >taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before
                > >returning to the palace for dinner.
                > >
                > > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip
                > >that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce
                > >learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she
                > >did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm â€"
                > >there had been so many after all.
                > >
                > > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her
                > >embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries
                > >and yet here we still all are.'
                > >
                > > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly
                > >jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la
                > >Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
                > >
                > >
                > > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window
                > >which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds
                > >of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red
                > >of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if
                > >Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng â€" his own regiment had been recently
                > >been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless
                > >of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
                > >
                > > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and
                > >now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them
                > >all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
                > >
                > > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged.
                > >`You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by
                > >the side of my Queen.'
                > >
                > > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in
                > >her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew
                > >that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her
                > >Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby
                > >son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it
                > >be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a
                > >gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
                > >
                > >
                > > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when
                > >she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it.
                > >This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the
                > >great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there
                > >were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made
                > >her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies
                > >made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the
                > >sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness
                > >fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room
                > >lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
                > >
                > > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and
                > >wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had
                > >managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and
                > >her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son
                > >again on the following day.
                > >
                > >
                > > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty
                > >daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris
                > >and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and
                > >running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the
                > >gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift
                > >camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the
                > >other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several
                > >hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a
                > >sudden certainty that they were doomed.
                > >
                > > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray
                > >and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring
                > >together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead
                > >knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew
                > >if she would ever see him again?
                > >
                > > TO BE CONTINUED
                > >
                > > * * *
                > >
                > > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her
                > >kind permission.
                > >
                > >
                > > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts
                > >on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at
                > >http://madameguillotine.org.uk
                > >
                > > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on
                > >August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
                > >
                > >
                > > Axel
                > >
                >


              • axel
                Hi Alecker, Thanks for your comment. I looked over the last set of pictures added and you are right - no. 75 August 1792 - Louis leaving Tuileries is indeed
                Message 7 of 7 , Aug 15, 2010
                • 0 Attachment
                  Hi Alecker,

                  Thanks for your comment. I looked over the last set of pictures added and you are right - no. 75 "August 1792 - Louis leaving Tuileries" is indeed Louis XVIII leaving Paris 1814. The king looks like Louis XVIII, there is no Queen or royal family and the soldiers uniforms are clearly circa 1814 - Good catch. I will soon remove that from the set of pictures and replace with other images of August 1792. Alecker, I hope you will comment on other pictures as well :)

                  Axel

                  --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "alecker23" <alecker23@...> wrote:
                  >
                  > Hi Axel,
                  >
                  > Thanks for your last pics add.Threfore I want to give a remark.One of yours pics don't represented Louis XVIII.In fact the pic presnted the Louis XVIII departure on Paris after Napoleon return from Elba island...
                  >
                  > --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@> wrote:
                  > >
                  > > In The storming of the Tuileries - Part 1, Melanie gives the reader a great a sense of what it must have been like in the palace on August 9, 1792.
                  > >
                  > > We can feel with the royal entourage that surrounds the King and Queen that there will soon be an attack. The dread. The foreboding. The waiting.
                  > >
                  > > There is also more in this Part 1. You feel the sad sense that an era may be ending: this may be Marie Antoinette's last coucher. This may be the last night of the formal bed time ritual that ends the Queen's perfect day.
                  > >
                  > > Yet, there is resilience. The ladies in waiting are given liberty to return to their homes but most stay at the Queen's side – for Marie Antoinette did inspire loyalty among her attendants.
                  > >
                  > > Axel
                  > >
                  > >
                  > > --- In Images_of_Marie_Antoinette@yahoogroups.com, "axel" <Rand103242@> wrote:
                  > > >
                  > > > [Tomorrow - August 10th] is the anniversary of the storming of the Tuileries Palace in 1792, which effectively ended the French monarchy and terminated any pretence that the royal family were not prisoners of the state.
                  > > >
                  > > > "Several years ago I wrote a trashy two part novel (it doesn't even have the dignity of being a three part novel), which featured the events of the 10th August. I thought it might be fun to reproduce the chapter here – especially as I haven't read it for about two years and can't remember what it is like! Whatever. Sometimes there is nothing better than Really Bad Historical Fiction, especially on wet, windy days like today.
                  > > > *ahem*
                  > > >
                  > > > `The ninth of August started much like any other day for Lucrèce with attendance at the Queen's lever and then Mass in the Tuileries chapel. The prevalent mood at the palace was never very cheerful so it was some time before she realised that anyone was particularly anxious or distressed. They had all become so used to strained silences, whispering in corners and bouts of crying and she and the other ladies quietly went about their duties as usual – trying in vain to amuse the downcast Queen, playing with the two royal children and taking Marie Antoinette's spoilt little dogs for a walk in the gardens before returning to the palace for dinner.
                  > > >
                  > > > The afternoon was spent doing needlework and idly listening to the stale gossip that still floated around the bored court. It was late afternoon when Lucrèce learnt from Madame Campan that there was talk of an attack on the palace and she did not know whether to panic or dismiss the news as yet another false alarm – there had been so many after all.
                  > > >
                  > > > `Are you quite certain, Madame?' she asked incredulously, looking up from her embroidery. `Every new week brings talk of yet another assault on the Tuileries and yet here we still all are.'
                  > > >
                  > > > Madame Campan looked rather affronted to have her word doubted and roughly jerked her head in the direction of the window. `See for yourself, Madame la Duchesse,' she said. `The troops are already massing in front of the palace.'
                  > > >
                  > > > Lucrèce sighed and laid aside her embroidery, then made her way to the window which overlooked the Cour Royale, where she was astonished to see that hundreds of soldiers had gathered with both the blue of the national guards and the red of the King's famous Swiss guards being in evidence. Lucrèce wondered if Alexandre was somewhere amongst the throng – his own regiment had been recently been disbanded as a result of being considered `too aristocratic' but regardless of this, he had vowed to fight for his King.
                  > > >
                  > > > Lucrèce turned back to Madame Campan. She felt quite shaken by the sight and now could not help but wonder if this time the end really was coming for them all. `What happens now?' she asked, trying her best not to sound afraid.
                  > > >
                  > > > `Now?' MadameCampan gave a grim smile. `Now, we sit and wait.' She shrugged. `You are of course at liberty to return to your family but I prefer to remain by the side of my Queen.'
                  > > >
                  > > > Lucrèce longed to leave but the strict sense of duty that had been instilled in her by her parents, beloved grandmère and husband was too strong and she knew that whatever transpired she would remain at her post just as all of her Vautière ancestors had done at times of crisis. She pushed the image of her baby son from her mind and drew herself up proudly to her full height. `Never let it be said that a Saliex abandoned their post at such a time,' she said with a gentle smile. `I too will remain for as long as my mistress requires me.'
                  > > >
                  > > > Never before had time slipped away so slowly. The Queen's state coucher, when she prepared for bed, was more sparsely attended than Lucrèce had ever known it. This struck her quite forcibly as it used to be one of the central acts in the great drama that was Marie Antoinette's official day and the fact that there were so few people there on what could well be their last day in the palace made her feel sad and alarmed in equal measures. Afterwards, she and the other ladies made their way to one of the palace salons and threw themselves down on the sofas where they kept vigil and talked quietly amongst themselves as darkness fell upon the palace and its grounds. Silently Lucrèce walked around the room lighting candles and pulling the curtains closed.
                  > > >
                  > > > She stood for a while by one of the windows, staring out across the city and wondering where the people she loved best were at that very moment. She had managed to send a page to the Hôtel de Saliex with a note for her husband and her sister Cassandre and now could only pray that she would see them and her son again on the following day.
                  > > >
                  > > > She was dozing on one of the sofas with her head on Madame de Tourzel's pretty daughter Pauline's shoulder when the church bells began to ring out across Paris and she woke with a confused start before immediately jumping to her feet and running to the window, pulling aside the curtains and peering our into the gloom. She could see the little orange fires that marked the soldier's makeshift camps but nothing else, thank God. She turned back to the room and she and the other ladies stared at each other in horror as the discordant sound of several hundred bells all being rung together filled the air and they all knew with a sudden certainty that they were doomed.
                  > > >
                  > > > The Princesse de Lamballe immediately dropped to her knees and began to pray and one after the other the others copied her until they were all murmuring together. Lucrèce alone found it impossible to find the right words and instead knelt with her eyes closed and a vision of her baby in her mind's eye. Who knew if she would ever see him again?
                  > > >
                  > > > TO BE CONTINUED
                  > > >
                  > > > * * *
                  > > >
                  > > > This post is by Melanie a/k/a Madame Gullotine, and is reposted here with her kind permission.
                  > > >
                  > > > This post originally appeared on August 10, 2009. This is the 1st of four posts on August 10, 1792 by Madame Guillotine. You can visit her website at http://madameguillotine.org.uk
                  > > >
                  > > > Since this first post begins on August 9th, 1792, I have started this series on August 9th, 2010 on the 218th anniversary.
                  > > >
                  > > > Axel
                  > > >
                  > >
                  >
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