The Execution of Louis XVI, 1793
Louis XVI, king of France, arrived in the wrong historical place at the wrong time and soon found
himself overwhelmed by events beyond his control. Ascending the throne in 1774, Louis inherited a
realm driven nearly bankrupt through the opulence of his predecessors Louis XIV and XV. After
donning the crown, things only got worse. The economy spiraled downward (unemployment in Paris
in 1788 is estimated at 50%), crops failed, the price of bread and other food soared. The people
were not happy. To top it off, Louis had the misfortune to marry a foreigner, the Austrian Marie
Antoinette.
On January 20, 1793, the National Convention condemned Louis XVI to death, his execution
scheduled for the next day. Louis spent that evening saying goodbye to his wife and children. The
following day dawned cold and wet. Louis arose at five. At eight o'clock a guard of 1,200 horsemen
arrived to escort the former king on a two-hour carriage ride to his place of execution. Accompanying
Louis, at his invitation, was a priest, Henry Essex Edgeworth, an Englishman living in France.
Edgeworth recorded the event and we join his narrative as he and the fated King enter the carriage
to begin their journey:
"The King, finding himself seated in the carriage, where he could neither speak to me nor be spoken
to without witness, kept a profound silence. I presented him with my Bible, and he seemed to accept
it with pleasure: I pointed out to him the psalms that were most suited to his situation, and he recited
them attentively with me.
The procession lasted almost two hours; the streets were lined with citizens, all armed, some with
pikes and some with guns, and the carriage was surrounded by a body of troops, formed of the most
desperate people of Paris. As another precaution, they had placed before the horses a number of
drums, intended to drown any noise or murmur in favour of the King; but how could they be heard?
Nobody appeared either at the doors or windows, and in the street nothing was to be seen, but armed
citizens - citizens, all rushing towards the commission of a crime.
The carriage proceeded thus in silence to the Place de Louis XV, and stopped in the middle of a large
space that had been left round the scaffold: this space was surrounded with an armed multitude
extended as far as the eye could reach. As soon as the King perceived that the carriage stopped, he
turned and whispered to me, 'We are arrived, if I mistake not.' My silence answered that we were.
As soon as the King had left the carriage, three guards surrounded him, and would have taken off
his clothes, but he repulsed them with haughtiness - he undressed himself, untied his neckcloth,
opened his shirt, and arranged it himself. The guards surrounded him again, and would have seized
his hands. 'What are you attempting?' said the King, drawing back his hands. 'To bind you,' answered
the guards. 'To bind me,' said the King, with an indignant air. 'No! I shall never consent to that: do
what you have been ordered, but you shall never bind me. . .'
The path leading to the scaffold was extremely rough and difficult to pass; the King was obliged to
lean on my arm, and from the slowness with which he proceeded, I feared for a moment that his
courage might fail; but what was my astonishment, when arrived at the last step, I felt that he
suddenly let go my arm, and I saw him cross with a firm foot the distance of the whole scaffold; and
in a voice so loud, that it must have been heard at the Pont Tournant, I heard him pronounce distinctly
these memorable words: 'I die innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge; I Pardon those who have
occasioned my death; and I pray to God that the blood you are going to shed may never be visited
on France.'
Many voices were heard encouraging the executioners. They dragged him under the axe of the
guillotine, which with one stroke severed his head from his body. All this passed in a moment. The
youngest of the guards, who seemed about eighteen, immediately seized the head, and showed it
to the people as he walked round the scaffold. At first an awful silence prevailed; at length some
cries of 'Vive la Republique!' were heard. By degrees the voices multiplied and in less than ten
minutes this cry, a thousand times repeated became the universal shout of the multitude, and
every hat was in the air."
