Élisabeth of France

Élisabeth as a child (portrait by Joseph Ducreux, 1768)

Élisabeth Philippe Marie Hélène was born on 3 May 1764 in the Palace of Versailles. She was the youngest child of Louis, Dauphin of France, and Marie-Josèphe of Saxony. Her paternal grandparents were King Louis XV of France and Queen Maria Leszczyńska. As the granddaughter of the king, she was a petite-fille de France.

At the sudden death of her father in 1765, Élisabeth's oldest surviving brother, Louis Auguste (later to be Louis XVI) became the new dauphin (the heir apparent to the French throne). Their mother Marie Josèphe died in March 1767 from tuberculosis. This left Élisabeth an orphan at just two years old, along with her four older siblings.[4]

Élisabeth Philippe Marie Helene de France (engraving by Pierre François Léonard Fontaine, c. 1775)

Élisabeth and her elder sister, Clotilde of France, were raised by Madame de Marsan, Governess to the Children of France.[5][6] The sisters were considered very dissimilar in personality. While Élisabeth was described as 'proud, inflexible, and passionate',[7] Clotilde was described as 'endowed with the most happy disposition'.[7] They were given the usual education of royal princesses in the age, focusing upon arts, religion and virtue.[8] They were tutored in botany by Louis-Guillaume Le Monnier, in history and geography by M. Leblond, and in religion by Abbé de Montigat, Canon of Chartres, and they followed the court as it moved around the royal palaces. Their days were divided between studies, walks in the park, and drives in the forest. Madame de Marsan would often take her to visit the students of Saint-Cyr, where select young ladies were introduced to the princesses.[7]

Élisabeth initially refused to study, saying that 'there were always people at hand whose duty it was to think for Princes',[7] and treated her staff with impatience. Madame de Marsan, who was unable to handle Élisabeth, preferred Clotilde, which made Élisabeth jealous and created a rift between the two sisters.[7] Their relationship improved when Élisabeth fell ill and Clotilde insisted upon nursing her, during which time she also taught Élisabeth the alphabet and made her interested in religion. This prompted a great change in the girl's personality; Clotilde soon came to be her sister's friend, tutor, and councillor.[7] After this, Élisabeth was given Marie Angélique de Mackau as her tutor, who reportedly had 'the firmness which bends resistance, and the affectionate kindness which inspires attachment', and under whose tuition Élisabeth made progress in her education and developed a softer personality, her strong will directed toward religious principles.[7]

In 1770, her eldest brother, the Dauphin, married Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria, better known as Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette found Élisabeth delightful, and reportedly demonstrated openly that she preferred her over Clotilde, which caused some offence at court.[9]

Madame Élisabeth with playing the harp.

On 10 May 1774, her grandfather, King Louis XV, died, and her elder brother Louis Auguste ascended the throne as Louis XVI. In August 1775, her sister Clotilde left France to marry the Crown Prince of Sardinia, the future Charles Emmanuel IV of Sardinia. The farewell between the sisters was described as intense, with Élisabeth hardly able to tear herself from Clotilde's arms. Queen Marie Antoinette wrote in a letter that Élisabeth 'showed the greatest feeling, and much above her age, at the departure of her sister. The poor little girl was in despair', and relayed that, as Élisabeth's health was very delicate, she had a 'very severe nervous attack.[6]

Adult life

On 17 May 1778, Madame Élisabeth formally left the children's chamber. She was given her own household, with Félicité de Sérent as her dame d'atours and Diane de Polignac as her dame d'honneur.[6] At this time, she reportedly resolved to protect herself from the potential 'moral threats' of court life by following the rules of her childhood: to devote her days to a schedule of religious devotion, study, riding and walks, and to socialise only with 'the ladies who have educated [her]', meaning her aunts, the teachers and students of Saint-Cyr and the Carmelite nuns of Saint-Denis.[7]

Several attempts were made to arrange a marriage for her. The first suggested bridegroom was José, Prince of Brazil. She made no objections, but was reportedly relieved when the negotiations were discontinued.[7] Next proposed the Duke of Aosta, the future Victor Emmanuel I of Sardinia, brother of the Crown Prince of Savoy, her sister's husband. The court of France, however, considered it improper for a French princess to be marry someone who was not a monarch or an heir apparent.[6]

Finally, a marriage was suggested between her and her sister-in-law's brother Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor, who had a good impression of her from his visit to France and was attracted to her 'vivacity of her intellect and her amiable character.'[7] However, the anti-Austrian party at court viewed an alliance between with Austria as contrary to the interests of France, and by 1783 the plans were dropped. No further suggestions of marriage were made.[6] Élisabeth herself was content not to marry, as she wanted to stay in France.

Madame Élisabeth's Opposition to Marrying

I can only marry a King's son, and a King's son must reign over his father's kingdom. I should no longer be a Frenchwoman. I do not wish to cease to be one. It is far better to stay here at the foot of my brother's throne than to ascend another.

Maxwell-Scott 1908, 41

Madame Élisabeth did not play any political role prior to the revolution. She viewed the royal court as decadent and a threat to her moral welfare, and distanced herself from it, only attending when absolutely necessary or when she was explicitly asked by the King or the Queen.[7] She often visited her aunt, Louise of France, at the Carmelite convent of Saint Denis. The King worried that she would become a nun, and once said that '[....] you should go to see your aunt, on condition that you do not follow her example: Élisabeth, I need you'.[7] A staunch believer in absolute monarchy, Élisabeth had great respect for the position of her eldest brother and regarded it her duty to stand by him. On a personal level, she was deeply devoted to her second brother, the Count of Provence, whom she considered to be 'seldom mistaken in his judgment of men and things', but also enjoyed her ability to tell a 'never ending flow of interesting anecdote'. Her youngest brother, the Count of Artois, was dissimilar to her and was sometimes given an 'affectionate lecture' by her for his scandals, though he came to admire her.[7]

Madame Élisabeth, painted in the manner of Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun

Her relationship with Queen Marie Antoinette was complicated. Marie Antoinette had found Élisabeth 'delightful' when she first entered court, 'tell[ing] everyone that there is no one more amiable, that she did not know her well before, but that now she has made her her friend and that it will be for life.'[7] Élisabeth, however, was close to her aunts, who were members of the anti-Austrian party at court opposed the Queen's informal customs.[10] Élisabeth, agreed, regarding Marie Antoinette's relaxing of etiquette as a threat to the monarchy, and once remarked in connection to it.[7] She never criticised the Queen openly, instead asking her aunt Madame Adélaïde to do it for her.

Regardless of these differences, she occasionally visited Marie Antoinette in the Petit Trianon where they fished in the artificial lake, watched the cows being milked and welcomed the King and his brothers for supper 'in white cotton dresses, straw hats and gauze fichus', On at least one occasion, she agreed to participate in one of the Queen's amateur theatre performances.[7] She was devoted to the children of the royal couple, in particular to Marie Thérèse and Louis Joseph; she acted as godmother to their short-lived youngest sibling, Sophie Hélène Beatrix. She continued to take a great interest in Saint-Cyr, participating in its centenary in 1786.

Élisabeth de France in 1787 (portrait by Adélaïde Labille-Guiard)

Élisabeth and her brother Charles-Philippe, Comte d'Artois, were the staunchest conservatives in the royal family. Unlike Artois, who, on the order of the king, left France on 17 July 1789, three days after the storming of the Bastille,[11] Élisabeth refused to emigrate when the gravity of the events became clear.

On 5 October 1789, Élisabeth saw the Women's March on Versailles from Montreuil, and immediately returned to the Palace of Versailles. She advised the king to carry out 'a vigorous and speedy repression of the riot'[7] rather than negotiate, and that the royal family should relocate further from Paris to be free from any influence of factions.[7] Her advice was opposed by Jacques Necker, and she retired to the queen's apartments. When a mob stormed the palace and demanded that the King return with them to Paris and Lafayette advised him to consent, Élisabeth said that 'it is not to Paris [the King] should go', as he still had 'devoted battalions' and 'faithful guards' to protect his retreat.[7]

Élisabeth nevertheless accompanied the royal family to Paris, where she chose to live with them in the Tuileries Palace rather than with her aunts in the Château de Bellevue. The day after their arrival, the royal family was awakened by large crowds outside, and every member of the family was obliged to show themselves to the public wearing the national cockade.[7] In the Tuileries, Élisabeth was housed in the Pavillon de Flore, initially on the ground floor[9] until fish market women climbed into her apartment through the windows; then, she moved to the first floor. Unlike the Queen, Madame Élisabeth had a good reputation and was referred to as the 'Saint Genevieve of the Tuileries' by the market women of Les Halles.[7]

The court life at the Tuileries was described as subdued. Élisabeth attended dinner with the royal family, worked on a tapestry with the queen afterwards, and ate supper with the royal family (including the count and countess of Provence) every day. She also continued to manage her property in Montreuil by letters and maintained a significant correspondence with friends inside and outside France, particularly her exiled brothers and her friend Marie-Angélique de Bombelles; these exchanges have been preserved and describe her political views.

Events of 1792

Élisabeth during the Demonstration of 20 June 1792

On 20 February 1792, Élisabeth accompanied the queen to the Italian Theatre, which was remembered as the last time the queen made such a visit and was applauded in public, and she also attended the official celebrations after the king signed the new constitution, and the Federation celebration of 14 July 1792. The new constitution prompted her exiled brothers to prepare a French exile regency, and Elisabeth informed her brother the count of Artois of the political changes in code.[7] She unsuccessfully opposed the king's sanction of the Decree against the priests who refused to take the constitutional oath.[7]

Élisabeth as well as Marie Antoinette were also visited by the delegation of slave owners from Saint Domingue, who had come to petition the king for his protection against the slave rebellion, during which the image of her was alluded to: 'in appearing before you, Madame, they can feel no other sentiment than that of veneration for your high virtues. The interest which you will deign to feel for their fate will sweeten its bitterness,' upon which she replied: 'Gentlemen, I have keenly felt the misfortunes which have visited the Colony. I very sincerely share the interest taken in it by the King and the Queen, and I beg you to assure all the Colonists of this.'[7]

During the Demonstration of 20 June 1792 at the Tuileries Palace, Élisabeth made a great impression by her courage, in particular when she was famously temporarily mistaken for the queen. She was present in the chamber of the king during the event and remained by his side during most of the incident. When the demonstrators forced the king to put on the revolutionary red cap, Élisabeth was mistaken for the queen. She was warned: 'You do not understand, they take you for the Austrian', upon which she famously replied: 'Ah, would to God it were so, do not enlighten them, save them from a greater crime.'[7] She turned aside a bayonet which was pointed against her with the words: 'Take care, monsieur. You might wound some one, and I am sure you would be sorry.'[7] When a male royalist attempting to protect the king fainted, she reached him and revived him with her smelling-salt. After the Demonstration of 20 June, some of the demonstrators actually attributed the failed assault on the royal family upon the demonstration of courage made by the behavior of Elisabeth, and a female demonstrator was reported saying: 'There was nothing to be done to-day; their good St. Genevieve was there.'[7]

Élisabeth herself described the Demonstration in a letter as follows:

'We were now at the King's window. The few persons who were with his valet came also to rejoin us. The doors were closed and a few minutes later we heard someone calling. It was Aclocque and some Grenadiers and Volunteers he had brought. He asked the King to show himself alone. The King passed into the first ante-room. ... At the moment that the King went into his ante-room some of the Queen's people obliged her to go back to her rooms. Happier than she, there was no one to force me to leave the King, and the Queen had hardly been dragged back when the door was burst open by the pikemen. At that moment the King got up on some chests which stood in the window, and the Marechal de Mouchy, MM. d'Hervelly, Aclocque, and a dozen grenadiers surrounded him. I remained near the wall encircled by Ministers, M. de Marsilly, and a few of the National Guards. The pikemen entered the room like lightning, they looked for the King, one in particular who, they say, said horrid things, but a Grenadier caught his arm, saying : ' Unhappy one, it is your King'. They at the same time cried Vive le Roy. The rest of the pikemen answered the cheer mechanically. The room was full in quicker time than I can write, all asking for the Sanction (for the decrees) and that the Ministers should be sent away. For four hours the same cry was repeated. Some members of the Assembly came soon afterwards. MM. Vergniaud and Isnard spoke very well to the people, telling them they were wrong to ask the King in this way for the Sanction, and tried to persuade them to retire, but their words were useless. ... At last Petion and other members of the municipality arrived. The first-named harangued the people, and after having praised the dignity and order with which they had come, he begged them to retire with the same calm, so that they might not be reproached with having given way to any excess during a fete Civique. . . . But to return to the Queen, whom I left being forced back, against her will, to my nephew's apartment. . . . She did everything in the world to return to the King, but MM. de Choiseul and de Hauteville and our women who were there prevented her. . . . The Grenadiers entered the Council Chamber, and put her and the children behind the Table. The Grenadiers and others who were much attached to them, surrounded them, and the crowd passed before them. A woman put a red cap on the Queen's head and on my nephew's. The King had one almost from the first. Santerre, who led the file, harangued her, and told her people had misled her in saying that the people did not love her; they did, and he could assure her she had nothing to fear. 'One never fears anything when one is with good people,' she replied, holding out her hand at the same time to the grenadiers near her, who all threw themselves upon it to kiss it. It was very touching. ... A real deputation arrived to see the King, and as I heard this and did not wish to remain in the crowd, I left an hour before he did. I rejoined the Queen, and you can guess with what pleasure I embraced her.'[7]

After the Demonstration of 20 June, Élisabeth as well as the king reportedly despaired for the future 'as an abyss from which they could only escape by a miracle of Providence,'[7] but she continued to act as the king's political adviser, and Mme de Lage de Volude described her state at this point: 'She spends her days in prayer and in devouring the best books on our situation. She is full of noble and generous sentiments: her timidity changes to firmness when it is a question of speaking to the King and of informing him as to the state of things.'[7]

The royal court was warned that there would be an attack on the palace, and royalist noblemen gathered there to defend the royal family on 9 August, sleeping everywhere they could find a place. During the following day, awaiting the attack, the queen, accompanied by the royal children, Elisabeth and the princesse de Lamballe, went about the palace to encourage the defenders, and then followed the king when he inspected the guards in the interior of the palace – they did however not accompany him when he visited the guards posted outside of the palace.[7]

On 10 August 1792, when insurgents attacked the Tuileries, the king and queen were advised by Roederer to leave the palace and seek refuge in the Legislative Assembly for their own safety, as it would be impossible to defend the palace. When she heard this, Elisabeth asked Roederer: 'Monsieur Roederer, you will answer for the lives of the King and Queen?' 'Madame,' was his reply, 'we answer for it that we will die at their side; that is all we can guarantee.'[7] The royal family, including Elisabeth, then left the palace to seek refuge in the National Assembly. M. de la Rochefoucauld described them:

'I was in the garden, near enough to offer my arm to Madame la Princesse de Lamballe, who was the most dejected and frightened of the party; she took it. The King walked erect ... the Queen was in tears; from time to time she wiped them away and strove to take a confident air, which she kept for a little while, but I felt her tremble. The Dauphin was not much frightened. Madame Elizabeth was calm and resigned, religion inspired her. . . . The little Madame wept softly. Madame la Princesse de Lamballe said to me, 'We shall never return to the Château'.'[9]

When Elisabeth saw the crowd she reportedly said: 'All those people are misled. I desire their conversion, but not their punishment.'[7]

Portrait of Madame Élisabeth in the Temple, by Alexander Kucharsky

Élisabeth was described as calm in the assembly, where she witnessed, later on in the day, her brother's dethronement. She followed the family from there to the Feuillants, where she occupied the 4th room with her nephew, Tourzel and Lamballe. During the night, there were reportedly some women outside on the street who cried for the heads of the king, queen and Elisabeth, upon which the king took offence and asked 'What have they done to them?' referencing to the threats against his spouse and sister.[7] Élisabeth reportedly spent the night awake in prayer. They were joined at the Feuillants by some of their retinue, among them Pauline de Tourzel. The whole family was transferred to the Temple Tower three days later. Before leaving the Feuillants, Elisabeth said to Pauline de Tourzel: 'Dear Pauline, we know your discretion and your attachment for us. I have a letter of the greatest importance which I wish to get rid of before leaving here. Help me to make it disappear.'[7] They tore an eight-page letter, but taking too long, Pauline swallowed the pages for her.[7]

Temple

The farewell between the former Louis XVI and his family, including Élisabeth, before his execution

After the execution of the former king on 21 January 1793 and the separation of her nephew, the young 'Louis XVII', from the rest of the family on 3 July, Élisabeth was left with Marie Antoinette and Marie-Thérèse, Madame Royale, in their apartment in the Tower. The former queen was taken to the Conciergerie on 2 August 1793. When her sister-in-law was removed, both Élisabeth and her niece unsuccessfully requested to follow her; initially, however, they kept in contact with Marie Antoinette through the servant Hüe, who was acquainted with Mme Richard in the Conciergerie.[7]

Marie Antoinette was executed on 16 October. Her last letter, written in the early hours of the day of her execution, was addressed to Élisabeth, but never reached her. During the trial against Marie Antoinette, accusations of molestation of her son were brought against her, accusations which her son seemed to confirm when he was questioned, and which were directed also against Élisabeth, and Marie Antoinette alluded to them in her letter, in which she asked Élisabeth to forgive her son: 'I must speak to you of something very painful to my heart. I know how much this child must have hurt you. Forgive him, my dear sister. Think of his age and of how easy it is to make a child say what one wants and what he does not even understand.'[7]

Élisabeth and Marie-Thérèse were kept in ignorance of Marie Antoinette's death. On 21 September, they were deprived of their privilege to have servants, which resulted in the removal of Tison and Turgy and thereby also of their ability to communicate with the outside world through secret letters.[7] Élisabeth focused on her niece, comforting her with religious statements of martyrdom, and also unsuccessfully protested against the treatment of her nephew.[7] Marie-Thérèse later wrote of her: 'I feel I have her nature . . . [she] considered me and cared for me as her daughter, and I, I honoured her as a second mother'.[12]

Élisabeth was not regarded as dangerous by Robespierre, and the original intention had been to banish her from France. In the order of 1 August 1793, which stated for the removal and trial of Marie Antoinette, it was in fact stated that Élisabeth should not be tried, but exiled: 'All the members of the Capet family shall be exiled from the territory of the Republic, with the exception of Louis Capet's children, and the members of the family who are under the jurisdiction of the Law. Elizabeth Capet cannot be exiled until after the trial of Marie Antoinette.'[7]

However, Chaumette alluded to the Temple as 'a special, exceptional, and aristocratic refuge, contrary to the spirit of equality proclaimed by the Republic [...] representing to the General Council of the Commune the absurdity of keeping three persons in the Temple Tower, who caused extra service and excessive expense',[7] and Hébert insisted on her execution. Although Robespierre himself wished to avoid such a 'useless cruelty', the political climate was such that he 'hid his thought of reprieve under words of insult. He dared not claim that innocent woman from the ferocious impatience of Hébert without insulting the victim he desired to save. He called her the 'despicable sister of Capet'.'[7][13]

On 9 May 1794, Élisabeth, referred to only as 'sister of Louis Capet', was transferred to the Conciergerie by a delegation of commissaries headed by Monet acting upon the orders of Fouquier-Tinville. Élisabeth embraced Marie-Therese and assured her that she would return. When Commissary Eudes stated that she would not return, she told Marie-Therese to show courage and trust in God.[7] Two hours later she was brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal in the Conciergerie and subjected to her first interrogation before judge Gabriel Delidge in the presence of Fouquier-Tinville.

She was accused of having participated in the secret councils of Marie Antoinette; of having entertained correspondence with internal and external enemies, among them her exiled brothers, and conspired with them against the safety and liberty of the French people; of supplying émigrés with funds financing their war against France by selling her diamonds through agents in Holland; of having known and assisted in the king's Flight to Varennes; of encouraging the resistance of the royal troops during the events of 10 August 1792 to arrange a massacre on the people storming the palace.[7]

Élisabeth stated the she knew for a fact that Marie Antoinette had not held secret councils; that she had only known and had contact with friends of France, and had no contact with her exiled brothers since she left the Tuileries; that she had not provided émigrés with funds; that she had not known of the Flight to Varennes beforehand and that its purpose had not been to leave the country but only retire to the countryside for the king's health and that she had accompanied her brother on his orders; she also denied having visited the Swiss Guard with Marie Antoinette during the night before 10 August 1792.[7]

Madame Élisabeth by François-Séraphin Delpech, c.1823

After the interrogation, she was escorted to a single cell. She refused a public defender, but seemed to have named Claude François Chauveau-Laofarde as her defensor, as he was called by someone claiming to be sent by her. He was not allowed to see her that day, as he was told by Fouquier-Tinville that she would not be tried for some time and there would be plenty of time to confer with her. However, she was in fact tried immediately the following morning, and Chauveau-Laofarde was thus forced to appear at the trial as her defender without having spoken to her beforehand. Élisabeth was tried with 24 accused accomplices (ten of whom were women), though she was placed 'at the top of the seats' during the trial and thus more visible than the rest. She was reportedly dressed in white and she attracted a great deal of attention, but was described as serene and calming on the rest.[7]

Her trial was conducted by René-François Dumas, president of the Tribunal, supported by the Judges Gabriel, Deliege, and Antoine Marie Maire. During the trial, the same questions were made to her as during the interrogation, and she answered in much the same way. Relating to the accusation that she had encouraged the Swiss Guard and the royalist defender against the attackers during 10 August, she was asked: 'Did you not, take care of and dress the wounds of the assassins who were sent to the Champs Elysees against the brave Marseillais by your brother?' upon which she replied: 'I am not aware that my brother sent assassins against any persons, whoever they may be. I gave succour to several of the wounded. Humanity alone prompted me to dress their wounds. In order to comfort them I had no need to enquire into the origin of their misfortunes. I claim no merit for this, and I cannot imagine that this can be imputed to me as a crime.'[7] When asked whether she did not refer to her nephew as king, ignoring the fact that France was a republic, her reply: 'I talked familiarly with the poor child, who was dear to me on more than one account; I therefore gave him the consolation which appeared to me capable of comforting him for the loss of those to whom he owed his being.' This was interpreted as a sign that she 'nourished the little Capet with the projects of vengeance which you and yours have not ceased to form against Liberty, and that you flattered yourself with the hope of raising again a broken throne by inundating it with the blood of patriots.'[7]

Her defender Chauveau-Laofarde later recollected his speech in her defense:

'I observed, that the Proces consisted of a list of banal accusations, without documents, without questions, without witnesses, and that, in consequence, where there existed no legal element of conviction there could be no legal conviction. I added that therefore they could only offer in opposition to the august accused, her replies to the questions they had made to her, as it was in these replies alone that the whole matter consisted; but that these answers themselves, far from condemning her, would, on the contrary, bring her honour in everyone's eyes, as they proved nothing but the goodness of her heart and the heroism of her friendship. Then, after developing these first ideas, I concluded by saying that instead of a Defence of Mme Elizabeth I had only to present her Apology, but that, In the impossibility of discovering one worthy of her, It only remained for me to make one remark, which was, that the Princess who in the Court of France had been the most perfect model of all virtues, could not be the enemy of the French.'[7]

Dumas replied to her defender's 'audacity to speak of what he called the pretended virtues of the Accused and to have thus corrupted public morality', and then held his speech to the Jury:

'Plots and conspiracies have existed formed by Capet, his wife, his family, his agents, his accomplices, in consequence of which there have been provocations to war from the allied Tyrants abroad, and civil war at home. Succours in men and arms have been furnished to the enemy; troops have been assembled; dispositions taken; chiefs named to assassinate the people, annihilate liberty, and re-establish despotism. Anne Elizabeth Capet – is she an accomplice in these plots?'[7]

The Jury declared Elisabeth and all of her 24 co-accused guilty as charged, after which the Tribunal, 'according to the fourth Article of the second part of the Penal Code',[7] condemned them to death and to be guillotined the following day.[14] One of her co-accused was reprieved from execution because of pregnancy. In the notes of the trial of Nicolas Pasquin, her valet of the chambers, she is referred to as the sister of the tyrant Capet. Pasquin, at the age of 36 years, was also sentenced to death for his own alleged part in the conspiracy of 10 August 1792, and executed on 6 February.[15]

When she left court, Fouquier-Tinville remarked to the President: 'One must allow that she has not uttered a complaint', upon which Dumas replied: 'Of what should Elizabeth of France complain? Have we not to-day given her a court of aristocrats worthy of her? There will be nothing to prevent her fancying herself still in the salons of Versailles when she sees herself, surrounded by this faithful nobility, at the foot of the holy guillotine.'[7]

After her trial, Élisabeth joined the prisoners condemned with her in the Hall of the Condemned, awaiting their execution. She asked for Marie Antoinette, upon which one of the female prisoners said to her, 'Madame, your sister has suffered the same fate that we ourselves are about to undergo.'[7]

She reportedly successfully comforted and strengthened the morale of her fellow prisoners before their impending execution with religious arguments, and by her own example of calmness: 'She spoke to them with inexpressible gentleness and calm, dominating their mental suffering by the serenity of her look, the tranquility of her appearance, and the influence of her words. [...] She encouraged them to hope in Him who rewards trials borne with courage, sacrifices accomplished,' and said: 'We are not asked to sacrifice our faith like the early martyrs, but only our miserable lives; let us offer this little sacrifice to God with resignation'.[7] She said to M. de Lomenie, who felt indignation at the way in which Fouquier had imputed his popularity among his former constituents in Brienne as a crime: 'If it is grand to merit the esteem of one's fellow-citizens, it is much finer, believe me, to merit God's mercy. You showed your countrymen how to do good. Now show them how one dies when one's conscience is at peace,' and to Madame de Montmorin, who was in despair of being executed together with her son: 'You love your son, and you do not wish him to accompany you? You are going to enjoy the joys of heaven, and you wish him to remain on this earth, where there is now only torments and sorrow!'[7]

Élisabeth was executed along with the 23 men and women who had been tried and condemned at the same time as she, and reportedly conversed with Mme de Senozan and Mme de Crussol on the way. In the cart taking them to their execution, and while waiting her turn, she helped several of them through the ordeal, encouraging them and reciting the De profundis until her time came.[16] Near the Pont Neuf, the white kerchief which covered her head was blown off, and thus being the only person with bare head, she attracted special attention by the spectators, and witnesses attested that she was calm during the whole process.[7]

At the foot of the guillotine, there was a bench for the condemned who were to depart the cart and wait on the bench before their execution. Élisabeth departed the cart first, refusing the help of the executioner, but was to be the last to be called upon, which resulted in her witnessing the death of all the others.[12] The first to be called upon was Mme de Crussol, who bowed for Élisabeth and asked to embrace her; after Élisabeth consented, all the following women prisoners were given the same farewell, while the men bowed before her, and each time, she repeated the psalm 'De Profundis'.[7] This attracted attention, and one spectator commented: 'They may make her salaams if they like, but she will share the fate of the Austrian.'[7] Reportedly, she considerably strengthened the morale of her fellow prisoners, who all behaved with courage. When the last person before her, a man, gave her his bow, she said, 'courage, and faith in the mercy of God!' and then rose to be ready for her own turn.[7] While she was being strapped to the board, her fichu (a sort of shawl) fell off, exposing her shoulders, and she cried to the executioner 'Au nom de votre mère, monsieur, couvrez-moi. (In the name of your mother, sir, cover me)'.[16]

Reportedly, her execution caused some emotion by the bystanders, who did not cry 'Vive la Republique' at this occasion, which was otherwise common. The respect in which Élisabeth had enjoyed among the public caused concern with Robespierre, who had never wished to have her executed and who 'dreaded the effect' of her death.[7] On the evening of the execution, he asked Bertrand Barère what people were saying and was given the reply: 'They murmur; they cry out against you; they ask what Mme Élisabeth did to offend you; what were her crimes; why you sent this innocent and virtuous person to the scaffold.'[7] Robespierre replied: 'Well, you understand, it is always me. I assure you, my dear Maret, that, far from being the cause of the death of Mme Élisabeth, I wished to save her. It was that wretch Collot d'Herbois who snatched her from me.'[7]

Her body was buried in a common grave at the Errancis Cemetery in Paris.[17] At the time of the Restoration, her brother Louis XVIII searched for her remains, only to discover that the bodies interred there had decomposed to a state where they could no longer be identified. Élisabeth's remains, with that of other victims of the guillotine (including Robespierre, also buried at the Errancis Cemetery) were later placed in the Catacombs of Paris.[5] A medallion represents her at the Basilica of Saint Denis.

Servant of God Élisabeth of France
Detail of the painting The Apotheosis of Louis XVI by William Hamilton, with Princess Elizabeth wearing the crown of martyrs, circa 1795-1800
Virgin and martyr

The cause of beatification of Élisabeth was introduced in 1924, but has not yet been completed. In 1953, Pope Pius XII recognized by decree the heroic nature of her virtues simply because of her martyrdom. The princess was declared a Servant of God and the cause for beatification was officially introduced on 23 December 1953 by Cardinal Maurice Feltin.[18]

In 2016, Cardinal André Vingt-Trois, Archbishop of Paris, reactivated the cause of Princess Élisabeth beatification. Xavier Snoëk, a former parish priest of the Parish of Sainte-Élisabeth de Hungary, being appointed postulator for the cause[19] (church located in the former Temple district where the princess was imprisoned), and in May 2017 recognized the association faithful promoters of her cause.[20]

On 15 November 2017, Vingt-Trois, after consulting the Conference of Bishops of France and the nihil obstat of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints in Rome, hopes that the process will lead to the canonization of Princess Elisabeth, sister of Louis XVI.[21]

Snoëk has suggested an alternate path for the beatification of Élisabeth based on the motu proprio Maiorem hac dilectionem promulgated by Pope Francis on 11 July 2017. Because her indictment made no reference to her religion, she was not killed in 'odium fidei' (hatred of the faith) and therefore might not be considered a martyr. If she is not considered a martyr, Snoëk points out that a miracle that occurred after Élisabeth's death and obtained through her intercession remains necessary.[22]

Élisabeth, who had turned thirty a week before her death, was executed essentially because she was a sister of the king;[23] however, the general consensus of the French revolutionaries was that she was a supporter of the ultra-right royalist faction. There is much evidence to suggest that she actively supported the intrigues of the Comte d'Artois to bring foreign armies into France to crush the Revolution. In monarchist circles, her exemplary private life elicited much admiration. Élisabeth was much praised for her charitable nature, familial devotion and devout Catholic faith. There can be no question that she saw the Revolution as the incarnation of evil on earth and viewed civil war as the only means to drive it from the land.[24]

Several biographies have been published of her in French, while extensive treatment of her life is given in Antonia Fraser's biography of Marie Antoinette and Deborah Cadbury's investigative biography of Louis XVII.

• Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). "Elizabeth of France" . Encyclopædia Britannica. Vol. 9 (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press.

Primary sources

• (in French) Duchess of Angoulême's Memoirs on the Captivity in the Temple (from the autograph manuscript; see in particular Part 3)
• Duchess of Angoulême's Memoirs on the Captivity in the Temple, (1823 English translation of a slightly redacted French edition; see in particular Part 3)

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Princess Élisabeth of France.