Oct. 20.
The unfortunate Queen, after a trial of some days, during which she seems
to have behaved with great dignity and fortitude, is no longer sensible
of the regrets of her friends or the malice of her enemies. It is
singular, that I have not yet heard her death mentioned in the prison
--every one looks grave and affects silence. I believe her death has not
occasioned an effect so universal as that of the King, and whatever
people's opinions may be, they are afraid of expressing them: for it is
said, though I know not with what truth, that we are surrounded by spies,
and several who have the appearance of being prisoners like ourselves
have been pointed out to me as the objects of this suspicion.
I do not pretend to undertake the defence of the Queen's imputed faults--
yet I think there are some at least which one may be very fairly
permitted to doubt. Compassion should not make me an advocate for guilt
--but I may, without sacrificing morals to pity, venture to observe, that
the many scandalous histories circulated to her prejudice took their rise
at the birth of the Dauphin,* which formed so insurmountable a bar to the
views of the Duke of Orleans.--
* Nearly at the same time, and on the same occasion, there were
literary partizans of the Duke of Orleans, who endeavoured to
persuade the people that the man with the iron mask, who had so long
excited curiosity and eluded conjecture, was the real son of Louis
XIII.
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