Clery was not so fortunate as to escape the frightful spectacle.  He had gone down to dine with Tison and his wife, employed as servants in the Temple, and says:  “We were hardly seated when a head, on the end of a pike, was presented at the window.  Tison’s wife gave a great cry; the assassins fancied they recognised the Queen’s voice, and responded by savage laughter.  Under the idea that his Majesty was still at table, they placed their dreadful trophy where it must be seen.  It was the head of the Princesse de Lamballe; although bleeding, it was not disfigured, and her light hair, still in curls, hung about the pike.”

At length the immense mob that surrounded the Temple gradually withdrew, “to follow the head of the Princess de Lamballe to the Palais Royal.”

[The pike that bore the head was fixed before the Duc d’Orleans’s window as he was going to dinner.  It is said that he looked at this horrid sight without horror, went into the dining-room, sat down to table, and helped his guests without saying a word.  His silence and coolness left it doubtful whether the assassins, in presenting him this bloody trophy, intended to offer him an insult or to pay him homage.—­De MOLLEVILLE’S “Annals of the French Revolution,” vol. vii., p. 398.]

Meanwhile the royal family could scarcely believe that for the time their lives were saved.  “My aunt and I heard the drums beating to arms all night,” says Madame Royale; “my unhappy mother did not even attempt to sleep.  We heard her sobs.”

In the comparative tranquillity which followed the September massacres, the royal family resumed the regular habits they had adopted on entering the Temple.  “The King usually rose at six in the morning,” says Clery.  “He shaved himself, and I dressed his hair; he then went to his reading-room, which, being very small, the municipal officer on duty remained in the bedchamber with the door open, that he might always keep the King in sight.  His Majesty continued praying on his knees for some time, and then read till nine.  During that interval, after putting his chamber to rights and preparing the breakfast, I went down to the Queen, who never opened her door till I arrived, in order to prevent the municipal officer from going into her apartment.  At nine o’clock the Queen, the children, and Madame Elisabeth went up to the King’s chamber to breakfast.  At ten the King and his family went down to the Queen’s chamber, and there passed the day.  He employed himself in educating his son, made him recite passages from Corneille and Racine, gave him lessons in geography, and exercised him in colouring the maps.  The Queen, on her part, was employed in the education of her daughter, and these different lessons lasted till eleven o’clock.  The remaining time till noon was passed in needlework, knitting, or making tapestry.  At one o’clock, when the weather was fine, the royal family were conducted to the garden