and think first of all of a
dazzling and beautiful woman surrounded by the chivalry of France and
gleaming like a star in the most splendid court of Europe. And then
there comes to us the reverse of the picture. We see her despised,
insulted, and made the butt of brutal men and still more fiendish
women; until at last the hideous tumbrel conveys her to the guillotine,
where her head is severed from her body and her corpse is cast down
into a bloody pool.

In these two pictures our emotions are played upon in turn--admiration,
reverence, devotion, and then pity, indignation, and the shudderings of
horror.

Probably in our own country and in England this will remain the
historic Marie Antoinette. Whatever the impartial historian may write,
he can never induce the people at large to understand that this queen
was far from queenly, that the popular idea of her is almost wholly
false, and that both in her domestic life and as the greatest lady in
France she did much to bring on the terrors of that revolution which
swept her to the guillotine.

In the first place, it is mere fiction that represents Maria Antoinette
as having been physically beautiful. The painters and engravers have so
idealized her face as in most cases to have produced a purely imaginary
portrait.

She was born in Vienna, in 1755, the daughter of the Emperor Francis
and of that warrior-queen, Maria Theresa. She was a very German-looking
child. Lady Jackson describes her as having a long, thin face, small,
pig-like eyes, a pinched-up mouth, with the heavy Hapsburg lip, and
with a somewhat misshapen form, so that for years she had to be
bandaged tightly to give her a more natural figure.

At fourteen, when she was betrothed to the heir to the French throne,
she was a dumpy, mean-looking little creature, with no distinction
whatever, and with only her bright golden hair to make amends for her
many blemishes. At fifteen she was married and joined the Dauphin in
French territory.

We must recall for a moment the conditions which prevailed in France.
King Louis XV. was nearing his end. He was a man of the most shameless
life; yet he had concealed or gilded his infamies by an external
dignity and magnificence which, were very pleasing to his people. The
French, liked to think that their king was the most splendid monarch
and the greatest gentleman in Europe. The courtiers about him might be
vile beneath the surface, yet they were compelled to deport themse