Guillotined at the age of thirty in 1794 by the revolutionaries who hated her beloved Catholic Faith, the cause of beatification of Madame Élisabeth of France, the youngest sister of Louis XVI, has finally been introduced.
According to Zenit, a plenary assembly of the French bishops approved a motion for the beatification of the princess in Lourdes, France on November 7, 2017. It is sad that in so many novels and films, Élisabeth is either erased
or minimized, when her presence was a source of comfort to the king and
the queen in their ordeals, even if she disagreed with them. She
withstood the mob at her brother’s side and encouraged the rest of the
family in the darkness of imprisonment. She became a second mother to
her niece
Madame Royale, and comforted the condemned on the way to the scaffold.
Madame Élisabeth (1764- 1794) became an orphan at the age of three and was raised by her governesses Madame
de Marsan and Madame
de Mackau.
She was a stubborn child but eventually conquered her willfulness so
that gentleness and kindness became her most outstanding character
traits.
Mme. de Marsan asked the king to appoint Mme. de Mackau,
who was living in retirement in Alsace, as sub-governess. This choice
proved to have all the elements required to work a happy change in the
nature of a self-willed and haughty child. Mme. de Mackau
possessed a firmness to which resistance yielded, and an affectionate
kindness which enticed attachment. Armed with almost maternal power, she
brought up the Children of France as she would have trained her own
children; overlooking no fault; knowing, if need were, how to make
herself feared; all the while leading them to like virtue. To a superior
mind she added a dignity of tone and manners which inspired respect.
When her pupil gave way to the fits of haughty temper to which she was
subject, Mme. de Mackau
showed on her countenance a displeased gravity, as if to remind her
that princes, like other persons, could not be liked except for their
virtues and good qualities. (see Katherine Wormeley’s The Ruin of a Princess)
Élisabeth always remained strong-willed when it came to adhering to her
principles, however. Many princes sought her hand in marriage, including
Marie-Antoinette’s brother Emperor Joseph II, but Élisabeth wanted to
become a nun. She longed to join her Aunt Louise at the
Carmelite
monastery at Saint Denis, where she often visited and served the nuns
at table. Louis XVI would not give his permission for her to enter,
begging her to stay. “We will have need of you here,” he said.
So Élisabeth took on the challenge of living the single, consecrated life
in the world, without the support of a community, and living it amid the
splendors of Versailles. As Élisabeth grew older
she more frequently joined Marie-Antoinette at Petit Trianon, and she remained close to her brother, Louis XVI. She was devoted to her brother
Artois, the rascal of the family, and tried to encourage him to reform his life, while comforting his forlorn and forsaken wife, Marie-Thérèse
de Savoie. For her twenty-fifth birthday, Élisabeth was given a farm called
Montreuil by
the king and the queen, where she started a dairy to provide milk for
poor children. While she organized her ladies in devotions and
charitable works, Élisabeth also enjoyed music, embroidery, clothes and
especially shoes. She loved to dance and was the last to leave any ball.
In
the days of the Revolution, Madame Élisabeth disagreed with the
conciliatory policies of her brother Louis XVI and the political
maneuverings of Marie-Antoinette. She saw the Revolution as pure evil,
as an attack upon the Church and Christendom and thought that it should
be stopped with fire and sword if necessary. There were many heated
arguments at the
Tuileries and as author Simone
Bertiere points out in
L’Insoumise,
Marie-Antoinette could hardly stand her sister-in-law at times.
However, misfortune bonded the two women together as if they had been
blood sisters.
Élisabeth was deeply aware of the danger to her
own life but refused to leave her brother’s family. She stood at his
side on June 20, 1792 when the mob stormed the Tuileries and hoped that
the people would mistake her for the queen so that her sister-in-law
would be spared. “Were it not better that they shed my blood than that
of my sister?” she said. When Louis XVI was killed and the little
Dauphin taken away and brutalized, Élisabeth comforted Marie-Antoinette
and young Madame
Royale, keeping them from despair. Nesta Webster reports in
Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette during the Revolution that
when a friend wondered if Madame Élisabeth could escape on her own, it
was said, “Madame Élisabeth is inseparable from the queen; she would not
leave her for the most splendid crown in the universe.” After the
queen’s death in October 1793, the aunt and the niece remained in the
Temple prison, enduring humiliations and taunts of the jailers. Élisabeth trained Marie-Thérèse Charlotte how to survive in confinement,
knowing that soon she would be alone.
In May, 1794, Élisabeth was removed to the
Conciergerie. According to Deborah
Cadbury in
The Lost King of France, Élisabeth, knowing she was to die, offered to God the sacrifice of her
life. At her trial she was condemned for plotting against the
Revolution. While awaiting death, eyewitnesses reported how she inspired
the other prisoners: “She seemed to regard them all as friends about to
accompany her to heaven….the tranquility of her mind subdued their
anguish.” (
Cadbury, page 138) On May 10, 1794 she recited the
De Profundis
on the way to the guillotine. The princess was the last of a group of
twenty-five people to be executed; they each knelt before her, asking
her blessing. (Some say she fainted in the process; the sound of so many
decapitations was too much.) When it was Élisabeth’s turn, the
executioner pulled her bodice down very low off her shoulders, and she
begged for modesty’s sake to be covered. There were no cheers when Élisabeth’s head was thrown into a basket, the crowd was silent, and
some reported the scent of roses filling the square, a miracle from the
middle ages to disturb the dawn of modernity. Many regarded her as a
saint, including Pope Pius VII, and now at last her cause has been
introduced. According to
The Catholic Herald:
Her piety, acts of charity and defence of the monarchy against the
forces of revolution brought her attention akin to hero worship in the
early 19th century. An association to promote her Cause for
beatification was initially introduced in 1924, and followed up in 1947.
In 1953 her Cause was reopened by the cardinal-archbishop of Paris, and
she was declared a Servant of God. In 2016 Cardinal André Vingt-Trois,
Archbishop of Paris, once again reopened her cause. (Read more.)
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