Doomed Queens (37 page)

Authors: Kris Waldherr

Marie’s activities did not go unnoticed by the people of France. While she was rhapsodizing over strawberries and goat milk at the
petit hameau
, the third estate was being taxed to starvation to pay for her luxuries. On top of this, bad weather left the poor without wheat for bread. When their complaints went unheeded by the powers that be, they used the power of the press to point fingers. Marie—aka Madame Deficit or
l’Autrichienne
(the Austrian bitch)—was their favorite object of scorn. They circulated pornographic caricatures of her servicing women and men. It mattered little when Marie tried to reform her ways or that she was sympathetic to the poor in her private life.

Guillotine

The formal history of the guillotine began in 1789 when a Dr. Joseph-Ignace Guillotin submitted a modest proposal to an assembly evaluating changes to the French penal code. Within it, Guillotin made the audacious suggestion that all men be treated equal when executed—that is, without pain and without torture. He wrote, “In all cases where the law imposes the death penalty on an accused person, the punishment shall be the same…. The criminal shall be decapitated; this will be done solely by means of a simple mechanism.”

Les sans-culottes!

After nearly two years of debate, the Assembly approved his measure in time for the Reign of Terror’s communal bloodletting. Previously, only nobility were beheaded; the hoi polloi met their maker by more painful means, such as hanging or torture.

Contrary to popular belief, Guillotin was not a fetishist fascinated by executions; he was a lapsed Jesuit who hoped that a more humane method would lead to the abolition of the death penalty. Nor did he design the “simple mechanism” that bore his name. Variations of this egalitarian death bringer were recorded from the fourteenth century.

Did the guillotine really render its victims a painless, swift death? The jury is out on that, since no one can tell us. However, one story suggests that consciousness did not immediately cease after the blade fell. Charlotte Corday, the infamous murderess of Marat, was recorded to have blushed with “unequivocal indignation” after her severed head was slapped by her jubilant executioner.

Fortunately for those who value their heads, the guillotine was retired from public service in France in 1977.

It was during this period in 1774 that Louis’s father unexpectedly died, thrusting the couple onto the throne. Louis XVI was as reluctant to govern as he was to make love, and the nation edged into bankruptcy. However, it seems that he gathered the courage to undergo the necessary surgery to impregnate Marie, for the queen was overjoyed to finally provide the people of France with an heir in 1781. Though other children followed, her oldest son died and a daughter did not survive infancy. But the private sorrows of royalty mattered little as the nation succumbed to chaos.

The storming of the Bastille, a prison housing political prisoners and a handy supply of firearms, signaled the start of the French Revolution on July 14, 1789. Two months later, a mob marched on Versailles to protest the lack of bread. The royal family was taken by force to the Tuileries in Paris, where they became prisoners in all but name. They disguised themselves as servants and attempted to escape, but were captured when the king was identified from coins bearing his profile.

This desperate act was viewed by the revolutionary forces as an act of treason—but the truth was that no matter what Marie and Louis did, the monarchy was doomed. Marie resigned herself to “remain passive and prepare to die.” The king and queen were stripped of their royal titles and moved to a more secure prison to await judgment.

Louis was the first victim to lose his head in January 1793. Marie’s hair supposedly turned white overnight from fear. Ten months later, after separation from her children and a sham trial for crimes against the state that included the molestation of her son, the queen formerly known as Madame Deficit sacrificed her life to Madame la Guillotine for the good of France. In an ideal world, wheat would have sprouted from her blood to feed the masses.
Vive la république!