H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre Read online

  Finding the proper staircase, he ascended. As he approached the top steps he was forced to look at the ceiling. It was painted with Jean Jouvenet’s “The Descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Virgin and the Apostles”, truly a masterpiece and, another time he would have spent considerable time examining its many nuances. Now, though he was forced to look at it, he didn’t see it.

  His intended destination was behind the traditional seating area for the royal family and guests. It served as a private altar and was not visible from the nave. Two guards stood in front of the communion table.

  “Leave”, he said.

  “Mon General, we cannot leave, we are representatives of the King. It is our duty, I must ask you your business.” The Sergeant stood at attention; fear streaked across the man’s face.

  Luckner sympathized with the man. The Sergeant was in an awkward position. But he didn’t have the time. Raising the sword he had taken from the shrine to the Knights of the Holy Spirit he placed the point at the man’s throat. The Sergeant’s eyes met his. “In the name of the King remove yourselves from this place,” Luckner said. His eyes locked on those of the Sergeant; this was a good man Luckner thought, there were too few like him. Few would have questioned a General, orders or no. He could see a fire in the man’s eyes. Luckner sensed the man’s confusion. The Sergeant decided there was no doubt a sword would be driven through his neck if he objected further. He lowered his eyes, glanced at his man and acquiesced.

  “Oui, Mon General, I intended no offense,” said the Sergeant. He and the Private hurried off.

  The small altar was made of marble, with a simple gold cross standing in the middle of the communion table. Behind it, recessed into the wall was an ambry. To this storage area General Luckner proceeded. In front of, and level with the lower edge of the ambry was another communion table, this one also made of white marble. The ambry itself was made up of five wooden doors forming the shape of a U; one central door nearly four feet long and hinged at the bottom and, on each side two square doors of similar construction, one over the other. In the center of the U was a painting of King Solomon holding a sword and a baby, one woman crying, another simply watching. He did not know the artist. The structure was of a beautiful dark Lebanon cedar, with a carved scene of the Archangel Gabriel slaying a demon. The sword of Christ poised above the demon’s heart as its central motif. The four smaller doors had similar scenes of holy triumph over evil.

  He opened the small door on the bottom right. This compartment held the Patents of the extended family of the House of Bourbon. Inside was a stack of wooden cylinders, butt ends facing outward. A Patent was actually a vellum document, in this case made of calf’s leather, attesting to the family tree of a royal. Each of the individual’s ancestors and blood relatives were identified. Their portraits painted onto the leather in painstaking detail. It documented the how and why of the bearer’s claim to royalty. He closed that door and opened the one above it. Inside this door were only six cylinders; these were the Patents of the King, his Queen, and their three surviving children and one dead child. The cylinders, twenty inches long, were actually hollow elephant tusks. Each end was covered with a gold cap. Engraved into each cylinder was a name. He quickly examined one, then the next, until he finally found the one labeled “Louis-Joseph”. Withdrawing the cylinder he secured it in the small knapsack he carried.

  Luckner went to the other end of the ambry and opened the top door. Inside was a square box, of Lebanon cedar, a fleur-de-lis inlaid in ivory and the words “The House of Bourbon” inlaid in gold and mother of pearl decorating the top. He removed the box and put it on the altar. Carefully he felt for the small clasp hidden in a relief carved on the front. Finding it, he opened the box. There, cushioned in a purple pillow was a Crown. Certain he had the correct crown Luckner stood to his full height, and listened intently. All the while carefully studying the walls, nooks and shadows of his surroundings. Convinced he was alone, he removed the crown and placed it on the altar. Next, he removed the Holy Ampule from its bed below and carefully sat it next to the crown.

  Retrieving the knapsack he removed the crown and bottle of holy water he had taken from the altar below and placed them in the box. The deception complete he replaced the box in the ambry.

  Opening the lower door he removed a similar box. Inside he found a purple pillow with a crown sparkling of diamonds, rubies and jewels. He quickly estimated its worth. It was more than enough for his purposes. This was a personal crown, worn at state functions after the coronation. He removed this crown and stuffed it into his knapsack. This he could use to pay for the Dauphin’s expenses…and maybe a small reward for his services.

  Next, he examined the central door. Quickly finding the latch he released it and lowered the door. Inside, a shelf, covered with purple velvet, held a box, also of Lebanon cedar and more or less fitting the dimensions of the shelf holding it. He removed the box. Its cover also had the fleur-de-lis inlaid in ivory. The words “The House of Bourbon” were inlaid in gold and mother of pearl above the seal. Below the seal were the words “The Final Argument Of The King”.

  He lifted the box out of the compartment and also placed it on the table-altar. He then placed the sword he’d removed from the wall in its place and closed the door. Preparing to open the box he paused, knowing exactly what was inside. He sucked a breath between clenched teeth and opened the box. Held in place by simple leather straps over a purple pillow lay the sword “La Joyeuse’. Luckner was a man not easily impressed; this weapon impressed him. The blade was clearly made for its work. It shown brightly; the edge sparkled in the candlelight. The pommel was large, gold and intricately carved. The handle was wrapped in sweat and blood stained leather. The hilt had more than a few nicks, this sword had been used in battle and had done its work well. The sword had instilled fear across the entirety of Europe. It was said to possess powers that made its holder unbeatable in battle. That had certainly been the case as it had slashed its way across all of Europe and Italy. This sword had been sung about since the eleventh century. The song of Roland exclaimed that it changed colour thirty times a day. It had been forged to contain the Spear of Destiny within its pommel; and forged from the same unearthly metal as Roland’s Durendal and Ogier’s Curtana. Before him lay the sword of the King of the Franks, the King of the Lombards, and the Emperor of the Romans. This was the Sword of Charlemagne.

  Spending only a moment to honor the sword, he slung the small knapsack over his shoulder, stuffed the box containing La Joyeuse under his arm and left the chapel.

  II

  The Chateau de Versailles contains over 700 rooms and 67 staircases. Only a small portion of the palace is devoted to the living quarters of royalty. The remainder of the rooms are devoted to official functions, offices, museums, apartments for members of the court, servants’ quarters, kitchens, canning rooms, slaughter rooms, wine cellars, guards’ quarters, armories, store rooms and similar rooms devoted to the support of the king and his palace.

  Wishing to avoid this maze of hallways and rooms, Luckner again elected to walk outside. He left the chapel by the way he had entered, descending the stairs, turning to his right and rounding the corner of the building. The rain was no more than a drizzle. Unfortunately, the box was awkward and difficult to carry. He needed assistance from his men. Fortunately, they were now here. He entered the Cour Royale. There, fifty of his best men sat patiently upon their horses, the rain not bothering them in the least.

  “Colonel DeAubry” Luckner called.

  “Oui, Mon General” a voice from the dark edge of the group sang out.

  “Colonel, take this box and knapsack, secure them in a coach.” He paused then added, “A traveler’s coach, not a royal coach. Do you understand?”

  “Oui.”

  “Good, have the turn-out ready in fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you at the stables. Keep the coach out of sight as much as possible.” With that he turned and walked toward the Cour de Marbre. Stopping briefly, he pointed a
t a Sergeant and a Private then said, “You and you, come with me, hurry.”

  The men dismounted, handed the reins of their respective mounts to their comrades and hurried after the General.

  Luckner marched across the Cour de Marbre and entered the Dauphin’s guardroom. From there he moved to the anteroom. As he entered the anteroom a woman wearing a green dress with purple trim was surprised as she relaxed on a chaise, she immediately stood. Luchner examined her. Not a woman, in fact, she was a mere child. She must be one of the Dauphin’s governesses. She hadn’t said a word; fear streaked her face.

  “Where is he?” he asked. The girl began to stammer.

  “Do not delay me young lady,” Luckner said in his commanding, harsh French.

  The girl simply pointed at the bedchamber door.

  Luckner and the two men crossed the room and entered the Dauphin’s bedchamber. Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, looked up from a couch in the center of the room. A young boy sat next to her. A picture book lay across their legs. Her eye’s met Luckner’s.

  “Madame, I am sent by the King to take the boy. We must leave at once.” Luckner tried to sound warm and understanding. In his German accented French he did not succeed.

  Marie Antoinette looked at the General. She thought how unfair life had been for her. Selected to marry the future King of France at the age of 13, it had taken painful dental surgery to correct her crooked teeth before the Dauphin had agreed to the wedding. They had married the next year and she had left her home in Austria, never to see it again. Her husband, sexually inept, did not come to her bed for seven years. When he did it was rare, and his sole purpose was to ensure an heir. There was little love in the act. Now that four children had come of the union, his visits were even more rare. In fact, it had been nearly two years since he had last bedded her. Marie, feeling very lonely, had taken to a small set of cottages on the grounds, the hameau de la reine, filling her days with gardening, gambling and shopping.

  The latter two vices drew unwanted attention from the treasury and eventually her King. It fed the already not insignificant distrust of her at court. She was called “the Austrian” and, it seemed these little vices had cost her early popularity with the people of France. Eventually, she found love in the arms of another woman. Her first consort being the Princesse de Lambelle. That affair did not last long, ended amiably and the Queen moved on. Soon, a new lover entered her life, the duchesse de Polignac; Yolande de Polastron. This woman became her constant companion, at her side as she shopped, played the horses, gambled and gardened. Yolande filled the void an even half-attentive husband should have filled. She also grew to love the children as much as Marie.

  The Queen of course knew the purpose of Luckner’s visit. She knew, she understood, but she did not believe it necessary. Events would eventually prove her wrong. “Where do you intend to take my child?” she asked. Already tears were forming in her eyes.

  “I do not believe it wise to tell you Madame, just know that he will be safe.” The General saw her distress. He tried to soften his voice even more, “I am to bring a governess of your choosing.”

  The Queen held the boy tightly. She sobbed silently. This was too fast, too abrupt. Finally, she whispered, “No, no, mon General.” Marie, knowing her pleading would do no good, finally gathered herself. “Take Yolande”.

  Luckner turned to the Sergeant, “Gather up the Duchesse, no luggage.”

  “You,” he said pointing at the Private, “Assist the young girl outside, pack one small trunk for the Dauphin. You must be able to carry it yourself.”

  He took the boy from the Queen’s arms. The child began to cry, just small convulsions. Luckner could feel the shudders as he held the child. She simply stared at him, locking his eyes with an emotion he could not identify, hate, gratitude, confusion, he didn’t know. He felt a bit of pity for the woman, but only a small amount. He was a soldier; he had his orders.

  He lifted the boy to his shoulder, turned and walked out of the room. Marie Antoinette sat and sobbed. She was a mother who would never see her son again.

  Chapter 6

  Colonel DeAubry had had some difficulty finding a simple four poster carriage for the General’s use. Eventually, one of the men discovered a sadly used, shabby example in a small shed near the quarters of one of the many bureaucrats which staffed the palace. It was perfect, exactly like the many that clogged the streets of Paris day and night. They harnessed four horses from the King’s stables and were ready for the General shortly thereafter.

  They did not have long to wait. The General came hurrying into the stables holding a young boy, closely followed by the Private carrying a trunk. The child looked about the stables, did not find his mother, or for that matter anyone he knew, and began to cry again. At this the General looked exceedingly uncomfortable. His discomfort did not last long as soon thereafter the Sergeant appeared with the handsome duchesse de Polignac. She immediately went to the child and calmed him.

  The General then examined the turn out. He did not like the horses. They were much too fine for the carriage and would draw unwanted attention. A sharp word to the Colonel and soon they found a less well muscled set of horses, unmatched in any way and quickly had them reharnessed to the carriage. This detail attended to the General then directed the Sergeant and the Private to remove their uniform coats and replace them with plain cloaks from the stable tack room. He did the same. Satisfied, he returned to the courtyard. Watching the men as they completed last minute details he frowned. Their uniforms would stand out, but there was nothing for that now.

  Taking Colonel DeAubry by the arm he spoke in a low tone. “We must pass unnoticed. We shall proceed in three groups. Our advance guard must be at least a mile in front of the carriage. The distance will disassociate the carriage from the troops. They will appear as a company simply moving through the countryside on some urgent business. Our rear guard must be at least a half-mile behind. Is that understood?”

  DeAubry did not like this arrangement and shook his head. “Oui, Mon General, but our defense will be slow to react should anything threaten the carriage.”

  Luckner thought about this then said, “I know, but we cannot risk being noticed. We shall make for the castle at Sedan. It is heavily fortified and the troops are loyal to the King there. We will travel through this night and tomorrow. I believe we can make Reims before we need rest. We’ll find someplace outside of the town and spend tomorrow night there.” The Colonel nodded his agreement and soon they had settled on the route of march. In moments the advance guard was sent on their way.

  Luckner now turned his attention back to the coach. The duchesse and Dauphin were inside. The boy was peeking out of the window at the General and Colonel. Luckner went to the coach, opened the door and closed all the window curtains.

  Stepping to the previously selected Sergeant and Private he asked if either had experience driving a four-in-hand. The Private brightened and said he had driven the hearse in his village from the time he was twelve. Luckner examined the man…..no, boy. How could there be so many children in the Army? The boy couldn’t be older than fifteen. “Alright, you drive.” “You,” he said, indicating the Sergeant, “ride as the rear coachman”. He then examined two coachmen’s blunderbusses his Adjutant had removed from another four-poster and placed on the seats of the driver and coachman. They were already loaded, but Luckner reprimed them himself and handed one to the Sergeant. The other he tucked under his arm.

  Luckner then surveyed his small band, it would have to do. With a wave he sent the advance guard ahead. Then, he inspected the coach and tack one last time, a small shove sent the Private to the driver’s box. He waited a few moments to ensure the advance guard had achieved their separation and, with a quick glance at the Colonel, a shouted “Bonne chance” he took his position atop the carriage. One more glance around his small party, a nudge of the Private’s shoulder, and they were rolling out of the stables. Ten minutes later the rear guard also left the palace gro
unds.

  They did not stop that night. They did switch teams in the morning, and by the next evening they were nearing Riems. Colonel DeAubry sent word to his advance guard and soon they had discovered a small roadhouse hidden from view by trees and shrubs and considerably off the main road. The men set up camp behind the roadhouse barn. The General and duchesse took rooms above the small tavern. Colonel DeAubry had the few patrons removed and kept in a small shed behind the tavern for the night. He then posted several men inside the tavern itself. He ensured his men stayed alert by paying the keeper to place all alcohol under lock and key. He stressed the importance of this arrangement by thrusting the barrel of his pistol into the right nostril of the man as he set out his terms. Should any traveler find his way to this roadhouse during the upcoming evening he would be told there was no room.

  Colonel DeAubry had begun this march with forty-eight men on horseback and two riding the carriage. But they had moved quickly, only stopping to change the carriage horses that morning. Even the best cavalry unit could not sustain that kind of pace for that distance without men being lost or horses throwing shoes, especially when a substantial portion of that march is at night. This was not the best of times. They had lost twelve men to poor horses, a desertion or two, and other issues. He now had thirty-six men on horseback. He hoped several would regain the column by morning but, knowing the terrible lack of food throughout the countryside, he knew their chances of finding fit horses were very slim.

  At first light the advance group, now down to twenty men, decamped and rode away from the roadhouse to the woods nearly a hundred yards behind. Once hidden in the woods they turned north-northeast and paralleled the road. After thirty minutes they found a small stream, really no more than a ditch, with brush on both sides leading back to the road. Thus they were able to reenter the road and proceed on their way. At the same time two men from the rear guard departed the roadhouse via the long drive. They were sent ahead for a half-mile, then turned and rode back to the roadhouse, giving the all clear. The General’s coach left the roadhouse immediately thereafter with the rear guard taking up their normal half-mile position en train.