James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
January 21Execution of Louis XVI
By William Makepeace Thackeray (1811–1863)From “The Chronicle of the Drum”
“Y
’Tis hard by the Tuileries wall.
’Mid terraces, fountains, and statues,
There rises an obelisk tall.
There rises an obelisk tall,
All garnish’d and gilded the base is:
’Tis surely the gayest of all
Our beautiful city’s gay places.
And the cities of France on their thrones
Each crown’d with his circlet of flowers,
Sits watching this biggest of stones!
I love to go sit in the sun there,
The flowers and fountains to see,
And to think of the deeds that were done there
In the glorious year ninety-three.
And though neither marble nor gilding
Was used in those days to adorn
Our simple republican building,
Corbleu! but the Mère Guillotine
Cared little for splendour or show,
So you gave her an axe and a beam,
And a plank and a basket or so.
Here sat our republican goddess.
Each morning her table we deck’d
With dainty aristocrats’ bodies.
The people each day flocked around
As she sat at her meat and her wine:
’Twas always the use of our nation
To witness the sovereign dine.
Old silver-hair’d prelates and priests,
Dukes, marquises, barons, princesses,
Were splendidly served at her feasts.
Ventrebleu! but we pampered our ogress
With the best that our nation could bring,
And dainty she grew in her progress,
And called for the head of a King!
And straight from his prison we drew him;
And to her with shouting we led him,
And took him, and bound him, and slew him
‘The monarchs of Europe against me
Have plotted a godless alliance;
I’ll fling them the head of King Louis,’
She said, ‘as my gage of defiance.’
Away from his gaolers he broke;
And stood at the foot of the scaffold,
And linger’d and fain would have spoke.
‘Ho, drummer! quick, silence yon Capet,’
Says Santerre, ‘with a beat of your drum.’
Lustily then did I tap it,
And the son of Saint Louis was dumb.”