‘You were wise. They might have killed us. This confirms what has been in my mind for some time.’
‘What is that?’
He looked at me quickly. ‘Don’t tell your mother. It would alarm her. But for some time I have believed that there were subversive forces at work. There are men in the world whose intentions are to overthrow monarchies everywhere and the Church with them. In other words they plan revolution. Where would such men seek to begin their campaign? In the weakest place, of course. France is weak. She has suffered years of inept rule; there has been little justice in the country; the monarchy has been selfishly indulgent; the people have become poorer; some of them are indeed close to starvation. You see, France is offering these men the very ground in which to sow their seeds of revolution.’
‘And you think that man … ’
‘He is one of many. Very soon … perhaps at this moment, those men who were listening to him will be roused to fury. God knows what they will do. They will raid the shops … steal the goods … and they will kill any who try to prevent them.’
‘How glad I am we escaped.’
‘Oh, Lottie, I see evil times ahead for France unless we stop this rot. We have a new King; a good minister in Turgot; there will be others. We have a chance if only the people will let us take it.’
We rode thoughtfully back to the château.
Before the day was out we knew that what we had seen in the town square was the beginning of trouble. Armand came in the late afternoon to tell us that a mob had attacked the boats which were laden with sacks of corn; they had ripped open the sacks and thrown the corn into the river.
My father was furious. ‘This is surely not the work of hungry men,’ he said. ‘I am becoming more and more convinced that this is an attempt at organized revolution.’
Armand wanted to go out and attack the rioters but his father restrained him.
‘There’ll be bloodshed if these people have their way,’ said the Comte. ‘The King and his ministers must deal with the matter.’
It was easier said than done, for that conflict which was to become La Guerre des Farines had started.
Riots broke out in several places simultaneously, which confirmed the fact that they were organized. Shop windows were broken, food stolen, and several people lost their lives.
My mother said I must stay with them until the country was quiet again but I was very worried as to what might be happening at Tourville and the thought of Charlot in danger terrified me. I wanted to leave at once but my father would not hear of it.
‘The trouble will not be so much in the country as in Paris or Versailles,’ he said. ‘I don’t think it is going to last long. Turgot and Maurepas will know how to deal with these agitators.’
I pictured the young King and Queen so newly come to the throne confronted by a mob of screaming people. Mobs were terrifying, mindless usually, beyond reasoning, bent on destruction and spurred on by an all-consuming envy … surely the most deadly of the seven deadly sins, for from it were born most of the others.
My father thought he should go to Versailles; my mother begged him not to; and when I heard that the people were marching on the palace waving pieces of mouldy bread, ferociously demanding that the price of food be drastically cut and threatening to burn down the palace if it were not, I was glad that he had listened to her.
There was nothing we could do. My father was in a state of gloom. He had seen this coming. He said: ‘What we must do is better the condition of the poor, that is true, but this is not the way. We have to seek out these people who are inciting honest workmen to revolt against their King and Parliament, against law and order. We have to stop them. We are late. We should have done it earlier. The King understands this, I believe, and is genuinely concerned with the plight of his people. But he has to reap the harvest sown by his grandfather. He is the one to blame. My God grant our young King the wit and strength and the courage to carry us through.’
I was not very well versed in politics. It had never occurred to me that we were so close to disaster, but that became clear enough during those days of the little war.
The King was courageous; he faced the mob. Some said that his action at Versailles, when the infuriated mob was at his gate, in sending out the Prince de Beauvais into the courtyard to promise to lower the price of bread saved the palace and ended the war. Had they burned the palace, as they had threatened to do, that would have been the signal for the peasants all over the country to rise against those of their countrymen who were better off than they were—starting with the nobility.
It was a miracle, and discoveries were made which proved my father’s theory. Many in the mob were not peasants; they were far from starving; and the bread which they carried with them when examined proved to have been treated with ashes and other substances to make it appear mouldy. One so-called starving peasant was wounded and taken to a hospital and found to be a servant in the royal household. Some of the people masquerading as women turned out to be men. As more and more evidence came to light it became obvious that there was organization behind the riots.
When this became startlingly clear the leaders, not wishing to be exposed, slipped away into obscurity and the rioters, with no one to urge them on, grew tired; and afraid that they might be caught and brought to trial, they dispersed. And quiet reigned throughout the land.
But it was a somewhat uneasy quiet.
The country settled down so quickly that it was decided that the King’s coronation should go ahead as planned. This was to take place on the eleventh of June and as both my father and mother were travelling to Rheims for the ceremony, I decided that I would return to Tourville and this I did.
It was about a month after I returned to Tourville when I suspected I might be pregnant. I was delighted and so was Charles when this proved to be the case, and although I resented the early discomforts of my state I was happy at the prospect of another child.
It took my mind off recent events. Charles was inclined to ignore them; he certainly did not take the same serious view that my father had done.
‘They should have brought out the military and dispersed them,’ was his comment. ‘If they did that it would soon put a stop to their nonsense.’
I thought of the man whom I had seen preaching in the market square and I did not believe that the military would deter him and his kind. I should have liked to hear more about the people who were trying to bring revolution into France but of course none knew who they were, for the success of their plans depended on their remaining anonymous. My father had said that he suspected people in high places. He even mentioned the name of the Prince de Conti. Why should they want to overthrow a regime into which they were so comfortably settled? My father believed that certain men had grievances against others and the prime factor in this discontent would be envy; and in a country like France where there were so many injustices and which had groaned for years under heavy taxation while hearing of the excesses of its rulers—that was enough to set the spark to light the fire.
However, as the weeks passed and everything seemed to have returned to normal, I forgot about La Guerre des Farines although now and then the memory of that man in the square would come back to me.
I was in my apartment one day. I remember it well—a hot August day when I was feeling listless and wishing the next few months would pass quickly, when there was a tap on my door.
I called for whoever was there to enter and a maid came in to say that there was a lady downstairs who was asking for me.
‘She has come a long way,’ said the girl. ‘And she has a child with her. She says she knows that you will see her.’