The death of Louis XVI
The Observer, 27 January 1793
Paris, Tuesday, 22 January
Yesterday, between 10 and 11 o’clock in the morning, the unfortunate Louis XVI, suffered decapitation in the Square of the Revolution, formerly called Place Louis XV. The mournful procession set out from the Temple a little after eight o’clock. The royal victim sat in the mayor’s carriage, with his confessor by his side, praying very fervently, and two captains of the National Light-Horse on the front seat. The carriage was drawn by two black horses, preceded by the mayor, General Santerre, and other municipal officers. One squadron of horse, with trumpeters and kettle drums, led the van of the melancholy convoy; three heavy pieces of ordnance, with proper implements, and cannoneers with lighted matches, went before the vehicle, which was escorted on both sides by a treble row of troopers.
The train moved on with a slow pace from the Temple to the Boulevards, which were planted with cannon, and beset with National Guards, drums beating. The guillotine was erected in the middle of the square, directly facing the Gate of the Garden of the Tuileries, between the pedestal on which the equestrian statue of the grandfather of Louis was standing, before the 10 August and the avenues which lead to the groves called the Elysian Fields. The trotting and neighing of the horses, the shrill sound of the trumpet, and the continual beating of drums, pierced the ears of everybody, and heightened the terrors of the awful scene.
The scaffold was high and conspicuous, and the houses surrounding the place of execution were full of women, who looked through the windows: the very slates which covered the roofs, were raised up for the curious and interested to peep through.
At 20 minutes after 10, the king arrived before the scaffold in the Square of the Revolution, which was covered with cannon, and crowded with cavalry. His confessor, Mr Edgeworth wanted to go up to the steps of the scaffold with him, but this was rudely refused by Santerre, the sans-culotte – he pulled off his stock, coat and waistcoat, and, with his neck and breast bare, ascended the scaffold with trepidity, and undaunted fortitude; (it was only 20 minutes after 10 0’clock); he wore a clean shirt and stock, white waistcoat, black florentine silk breeches, black silk stockings, and his shoes were tied with black silk strings.
Having taken leave of his confessor, who shed 1,000 tears, he beckoned with his hand to be heard; the noise of the warlike instruments ceased for a moment; but soon after a 1,000 voices vociferated, with detestable ferocity, “No speeches! No speeches!” The unfortunate monarch wrung his hands, lifted them up towards heaven, and with agony in his eye and gesture, exclaimed distinctly enough to be heard by those persons who were next to the scaffold, “To thee, O God, I commend my soul! I forgive all my enemies – I die innocent!” His head was immediately severed from his body, and the blood-thirsty sans-culottes, and Jacobins waved their hats in the air exclaiming, “God save the nation!” The music struck up Ça Ira and the body was immediately removed in a black coffin.
The short length of time in which he appeared on the scaffold, and the interval of the fatal blow, no more than two minutes elapsed! Instantly the executioner lifted his head, and, amidst the flourish of trumpets, exclaimed, “Thus dies a traitor!” Some of the guards pushed forward to the scaffold, to see the royal corpse streaming with blood: they brandished their swords and vociferated – “God save the Republic! God save the nation!”
The body was conveyed to the Tuileries; and at the earnest request of the Jacobins and Federates, the executioner cut off the hair imbrued in blood, which was sold for assignats, in small locks. The guards, federates, and others, dipped their handkerchiefs in the gore, hoisted it on swords, pikes, and staffs, and sold it; and the Banditti mob carried it triumphantly through the streets till night, intoxicated, and hollowing – “Behold the blood of a tyrant!”
The body was interred six hours after, in the churchyard De la Madeleine, adjacent to the place of execution, in a grave 12ft deep, and filled with quicklime and mould, between the people who were stifled in the throng on the 19 April 1770 (when a brilliant illumination and firework were exhibited there in honour of his marriage) and the Swiss and other victims slain at the Tuileries on 10 August.
Thus perished, by the hands of ruthless rebels, Louis XVI, King of France and Navarre, born 23 August 1754, in the 39th year of his age, on 21 January 1793, at 22 minutes after 10 o’clock in the forenoon.