[In the course of the morning the King said to me:  “You will give this seal to my son and this ring to the Queen, and assure her that it is with pain I part with it.  This little packet contains the hair of all my family; you will give her that, too.  Tell the Queen, my dear sister, and my children, that, although I promised to see them again this morning, I have resolved to spare them the pang of so cruel a separation.  Tell them how much it costs me to go away without receiving their embraces once more!” He wiped away some tears, and then added, in the most mournful accents, “I charge you to bear them my last farewell.”—­Clery.]

He then clasped his hand and thanked him for his services.  After this he addressed himself to one of the municipal officers, requesting him to transmit his last will to the Commune.  This officer, who had formerly been a priest, and was named Jacques Roux, brutally replied that his business was to conduct him to execution, and not to perform his commissions.  Another person took charge of it, and Louis, turning towards the party, gave with firmness the signal for starting.

Officers of gendarmerie were placed on the front seat of the carriage.  The King and M. Edgeworth occupied the back.  During the ride, which was rather long, the King read in M. Edgeworth’s breviary the prayers for persons at the point of death; the two gendarmes were astonished at his piety and tranquil resignation.  The vehicle advanced slowly, and amidst universal silence.  At the Place de la Revolution an extensive space had been left vacant about the scaffold.  Around this space were planted cannon; the most violent of the Federalists were stationed about the scaffold; and the vile rabble, always ready to insult genius, virtue, and misfortune, when a signal is given it to do so, crowded behind the ranks of the Federalists, and alone manifested some outward tokens of satisfaction.

At ten minutes past ten the carriage stopped.  Louis XVI., rising briskly, stepped out into the Place.  Three executioners came up; he refused their assistance, and took off his clothes himself.  But, perceiving that they were going to bind his hands, he made a movement of indignation, and seemed ready to resist.  M. Edgeworth gave him a last look, and said, “Suffer this outrage, as a last resemblance to that God who is about to be your reward.”  At these words the King suffered himself to be bound and conducted to the scaffold.  All at once Louis hurriedly advanced to address the people.  “Frenchmen,” said he, in a firm voice, “I die innocent of the crimes which are imputed to me; I forgive the authors of my death, and I pray that my blood may not fall upon France.”  He would have continued, but the drums were instantly ordered to beat:  their rolling drowned his voice; the executioners laid hold of him, and M. Edgeworth took his leave in these memorable words:  “Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!” As soon as the blood flowed, furious wretches dipped their pikes and handkerchiefs in it, then dispersed throughout Paris, shouting “Vive la Republique!  Vive la Nation!” and even went to the gates of the Temple to display brutal and factious joy.