Tea at Trianon: Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette in a Eucharistic Procession

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

~from History of the Guillotine by John Wilson Croker, 1844

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette in a Eucharistic Procession

Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette in the Eucharistic procession that opened the Estates-General in the spring of 1789. (From Vive la Reine.)

On May 4, 1789, she put Louis-Joseph and his sister with Madame de Polignac on a balcony above the stables so they could watch the magnificent Eucharistic procession which marked the opening of the Estates-General. The procession wound from the Royal Chapel, across the vast courtyard of the palace, through the streets of the town of Versailles, to the Church of Saint Louis. The monstrance, in the hands of a bishop, was under a rich canopy carried by Provence, Artois, Berry, and Angoulême. Everyone held a candle, except for the standard bearers, with the fluttering silken banners, and the royal falconers, with falcons on their wrists, looking both noble and fierce. The King, with a lighted taper, walked directly behind the monstrance. He wore a cloth of gold mantle and a plumed hat with the famous Regent diamond. He was wildly applauded by the crowds that lined the route. But when Antoinette, who with her ladies followed the King’s household, passed by in her gown of gold and silver tissue, every tongue fell silent. She could almost taste the hatred. It frightened her.

When passing beneath the balcony where her sick boy was lying, she glanced up to blow him a kiss. The cry “Long live Orléans!” resounded in her ears. The extent of the malice overwhelmed her. That someone could hate her so much that they would use her child’s suffering as an opportunity to humiliate her; that they would praise her known enemy at a moment when as a mother she was most vulnerable, within the hearing of her pain-wracked Dauphin, stunned her as much as if she had been whipped or burnt. She halted, dizzily, then turned to see who had insulted her. In doing so, she staggered, but before she lost her balance, Princesse de Lamballe took her arm and steadied her.