An account of Louis XVI’s final meeting with his family on the night of January 20th, 1793, as recorded by Cléry, the king’s valet.
At half-past eight the door opened; the queen appeared first, holding her son by the hand; then Madame Royale and Madame Élisabeth; they ran to the arms of the king. A gloomy silence reigned for several minutes, interrupted only by sobs. The queen made a movement to draw the king into his room. “No,” he said “let us go into the dining-room, I can see you only there.” They went there, and I closed the door, which was of glass, behind them. The king sat down, the queen on his left, Madame Élisabeth on his right, Madame Royale nearly opposite to him, and the little prince between his knees. All were bending towards him and held him half embraced. This scene of sorrow lasted seven quarters of an hour, during which it was impossible to hear anything; we could see only that after each sentence of the king the sobs of the princesses redoubled, lasting some minutes; then the king would resume what he was saying. It was easy to judge from their motions that the king himself was the first to tell them of his condemnation.
At a quarter past ten the king rose first; they all followed him; I opened the door; the queen held the king by the right arm; Their Majesties each gave a hand to the dauphin; Madame Royale on the left clasped the king’s body; Madame Élisabeth, on the same side but a little behind the rest, had caught the left arm of her brother. They made a few steps towards the entrance, uttering the most sorrowful moans. “I assure you,” said the king, “that I will see you to-morrow at eight o'clock.” “You promise us?” they all cried. “Yes, I promise it.” “Why not at seven o'clock?” said the queen. “Well, then, yes, at seven o'clock,” replied the king. “Adieu–” He uttered that “adieu” in so expressive a manner that the sobs redoubled. Madame Royale fell fainting at the king’s feet, which she clasped; I raised her and helped Madame Élisabeth to hold her. The king, wishing to put an end to this heart-rending scene, gave them all a most tender embrace, and then had the strength to tear himself from their arms. “Adieu–adieu,” he said, and re-entered his chamber.
Photo: Detail of a 1795 engraving depicing the final interview of Louis XVI and his family
