a is voyage malgré mon chagrin m'a para agreable par la pleunced un être sensible. dout bobouté J2 longterm m'étoit connue mais qui en afau les dernière prevor in ce voyage par la manière dout, ib lest comporte a mon egoed, par so manière activo de miseron quoiq a amurement. I ne Que pasjêtre au couland. es ne peut-l'attribuer qu'a sousète dy a longtems que je le crucis atte dernière preuve me m'etoit pas necessare par qu'il toute mon estime main albal'a incare createye Japrices dire davantage intage je ne pean derniers mornens pas de parole pour Whxprimer je finès cependant par le conjurer dene pass Prope Paffliger d'avoi l'avoir du courage je ne lai chsrand & point de pfuur amoi je suis sur qu'il le jeux en je lui reposed d'en faire autrat de mon cole Gomin's present. whose goodness I had long been acquainted, but who gave me proofs of it beyond measure, in this journey, by the manner in which he demeaned himself on every occasion, and by his activity in my service, though he was certainly not accustomed to it; it must therefore be attributed entirely to his zeal in my cause. I have long known him, and this last proof was not necessary for him to possess all my esteem, but yet in these last moments I feel it is increased. I cannot say more, for though my heart is deeply impressed with all it ought to feel, I have no words to express my sentiments. I will therefore conclude, by imploring him not to distress himself too much, and to take courage; I do not ask him to think of me, for I am sure he will, and I can answer on my part for doing as much for him." These last words of the daughter of Louis XVI. to Gomin form, at the same time, her last farewell to the Temple-that abode, the bare remembrance of which harrowed her soul, but which was still dear to her, since it recalled the thought of all she had suffered, and all she had lost: the harshness and inhumanity of some, the devotion and affecting interest of others. Here closes the history of the Temple prison: from captivity, the daughter of Louis XVI passed into exile. BOOK TWENTIETH. DEMOLITION OF THE TEMPLE TOWER. The Temple after the departure of Marie-Thérèse-The public admitted to the Temple-Inscriptions, blasphemies, prayers-The revolutionary government wishes to sell the Temple-Decree of the First Consul to preserve it as a property belonging to the State-Demolition of the Temple tower resolved on-Pilgrimages made to the Temple-Decree of the Emperor, appointing the Temple palace to be a residence for the minister of public worship-A convent established there at the Restoration-Conclusion. HAVING completed our account of the prisoners confined in the Temple, it remains for us, ere we close this history, to relate the end of the Temple itself, hallowed-as were some amphitheatres of the olden time-by the martyr-deaths it had witnessed. The sacrifice consummated there, had attracted universal attention to that gloomy pile; in consequence of the respect in which it was held by the public, the prison had become a sanctuary, and though its chambers were now vacant, by the death or exile of those who had inhabited them, they were filled with reminiscences of their departed guests. Great virtues are like those precious balms that leave an imperishable trace of their former presence in the vase that once contained them. Shortly after the departure of Marie-Thérèse several persons succeeded in gaining admittance to the tower, and eager Memorial of the prisoners. eyes sought out whatever traces of their sojourn there might have been left by the prisoners. In the apartment of Louis XVI, there were several inscriptions, but none in his handwriting; in that of the Princesses nothing was to be found in the Queen's hand, or in that of Madame Elizabeth. These three martyrs had some hearts yet remaining round them in whom they could confide, and therefore had not made inanimate objects the recipients of their sentiments. Marie-Thérèse and her brother, condemned to perfect solitude, had, on the contrary, sought to turn their prison walls into faithful confidants of their most private thoughts. In the Dauphin's room, the child's hand had left two mementoes of his residence there-a flower, sketched on the wainscot, near the corner where the stove had been; and further on the following words, traced with an imperfectly cut pencil, or a piece of charcoal : "Maman, je vous pr" Did the means or the power fail him to complete his idea? Was he interrupted by the brutal hand of Simon, or by the menacing summons of a municipal? With respect to his sister, more than one sentiment in. scribed by her hand, was found in this deserted spot. We are told by Rovère, a member of the National Convention, that a short time after the departure of the Princess he examined the whole of the room she had inhabited, trying to find some trace of her residence there. While thus employed he perceived a couple of lines, in pencil, written on the walls, and going nearer he read as follows, in the first line : "Oh, mon père! veillez sur moi du hant du ciel!" And the second, which had been written at a more recent "Oh, my father watch over me from heaven above !" |