5. Procédure Criminelle, Suite, 60.

k. Nicolas la Roque de Saint-Virieu, twenty-one years of age, king’s body guard, Scotch company, living at Port-Audemer, Rue aux Juifs, parish Saint-Ouen, deposes that, the sixth of the same month of October, at six o’clock in the morning, he relieved the sentinel of the queen’s hall. At a quarter after six he learned that the court of the château was filled with people armed with pikes, sabers, and guns, and he soon heard them moving with frightful cries toward the grand staircase. Five or six of his comrades, who were with him in the hall of the queen, went quickly to the head of the staircase to attempt to appease the people mentioned, and to ask them to descend. As soon as these last saw them they cried: "Down with your arms!" and fell at once upon his comrades, which caused them to re-enter the hall as quickly as possible and close the door promptly. At the same moment he and his comrades decided to go to the queen, persuaded that it was her majesty they were after and that they had no time to lose in saving her. They had, in fact, hardly entered the first apartment when the door opening on the staircase was broken in, but a screen which was before them gave them time to close the door of the apartment after they had entered, and prevented them from being seen by anybody. They penetrated to the antechamber of the queen, but could not enter, the door being barred on the inside. One of the queen’s women, who did not take them for body guards, refused to open the door of the antechamber, or, at least, she did not at first reply to the urgent requests that it be opened for them. This woman made a great lament. He spoke to her through the keyhole, and having made her understand that they were really body guards, and that the queen was in the greatest danger if they were not permitted to enter the antechamber, this woman decided at last to open the door. He called attention to the fact that in speaking to this woman he made no more noise than was necessary for her to hear him. The door of the antechamber being opened, the woman of whom he had just spoken cast herself at their feet and conjured them not to abandon the queen. They replied they would save her majesty even at the peril of their lives and that there were enough of them to resist as long as it would be necessary to enable her majesty to arise and withdraw. He and two or three of his comrades were at once introduced into the very chamber of the queen. One of her majesty’s women came to say to them that the queen was about to rise. They retired at once and drew up at the door outside the apartment. When the queen had risen, she went to the room of the king, who shortly after entered the queen’s chamber from the opposite side. The king asked eagerly and with a look of concern where the queen was. They assured the king that the queen had gone to his room. The king left them promptly to go to join the queen. He and his comrades wished to follow to protect his royal person, but his majesty prevented them from doing so, telling them to remain and that he would not delay to send them orders. They received, in fact, shortly afterward, instructions to betake themselves to tile Oeil-de-Boeuf, where they found many of their comrades. They remained about an hour in this last apartment, on the door of which blows were rained, as if the intention was to break it in. This door had been barricaded inside with benches, stools, and everything he and his comrades could find. It was not entirely broken in, only splintered. The moment came when he and his comrades were about to be taken; but they were delivered by the former French guards, at that time national guards. [June 26, 1790.]