Hilaire Belloc

Hilaire Belloc

Summary

Portrait of Hilaire Belloc Hilaire Belloc Marie Antoinette (1909)

Yet that exclusion of the populace helped to kill the Monarchy.
At one o’clock a Swedish noble, chancing to be at the Queen’s door, was told the news. He was caught and electrified by it as though he had been of the French blood. He turned to the first woman he met and said: “We have an heir!” Now that woman happened to be Provence’s wife, and the scene—her red anger and her disdain, his bewilderment—were taken up at once into the laughter of the moment. All the world laughed or cried: it was like the excitement of a great victory turning the tide of a disastrous war.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Hilaire Belloc Hilaire Belloc Marie Antoinette (1909)

As the Queen drove through the night, silent as it was, there reached her those noises of a City which never cease, and which to prisoners in transition (to our gagged prison victims to-day as they cross London from one Hell to another) are a sort of gaiety or at least a whiff of other men’s living. These noises were the more alive and the more perpetual in this horrid August dark of ’93 because a last agony was now risen high upon the Revolution; the news had been of defeats, of cities fallen, of Valenciennes itself surrendered: so that the next news might be the last.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Hilaire Belloc Hilaire Belloc Marie Antoinette (1909)

They drank to the King, the Queen, the Heir; the noise of laughter and of enthusiasm grew, the toasts 219and the cheers were exchanged from the boxes to the stage; the floor of the theatre filled with new-comers—speech and the exhilaration of companionship gained on them and rose. Some there in wine felt now again, like a memory in the blood, the old and passionate French love of the kings. Some, who had come to Versailles secretly determined for the Crown, now at last gave full rein and let the soul gallop to its end.
Source: Gutenberg

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