July 17th, 1789

It seems that my worst fears are coming true. The Bastille has fallen to the revolutionaries. It seems that a crowd gathered to protest the direction of one of the guard cannons. The cannon was aimed at Antoine Street, as a sort of warning to the people of Paris. When the guards refused to move the cannon, some of the crowd took a more violent action. Two men armed with axes attacked the guardhouse and tried to lower the first drawbridge by breaking the chains. The soldiers in the fortress threatened to open fire if they did not stop. The men refused and managed to lower the first drawbridge. They then set to work on the second drawbridge when the soldiers opened fire. For four hours the crowd tried to lower the second bridge and storm the fortress and for four hours their assaults were met with musket fire.
Then the French Guard showed up with cannons, and urged the soldiers to surrender, on the condition that no harm would come to them. Seeing that their defenses could now be breached, they raised a white flag and surrendered. However, the Guard could not hold back the crowd, which stormed the fortress. The leader of the defenders, and I shudder to write this, had his throat slit on the steps of the Bastille, and his head carried around Paris.
Two days after the Bastille fell, it was ordered to be demolished. The joyous men and women who had attacked it two days before stormed it again, and ripped apart the bricks with their bare hands.

July 10th, 1789

A shadow of a doubt has crept into my mind. Our king has still done nothing to stop the uprising. It seems every day that the monarchy is in danger. And what if they come to Versailles? Will they come in peace? Or will it be anger? A have a bad premonition. I can almost see them storming the palace. They have knifes in their hands. In their dirty shoes, they run up the pristine marble staircases, leaving dirty footprints behind. I am afraid.

July 6th, 1789

Through all of this, Nicole seems almost excited. Certainly not scared, like almost every other person in the palace.

June 30th, 1789

I am worried for my King and Queen. As the days go by, I see no actions being taken to repress these revolutionaries. I know that the chance of them succeeding is slim, but what if they do? What will happen to France? Surely it will fall into ruin without the rulers that God has appointed.

June 21st, 1789

I have heard a strange thing. It seems that yesterday a large group of men have banded together because they don’t think that our King Louis XVI. They want to overthrow the government, and never have kings and queens again. Instead, they want the people of France to govern themselves. I do not know how this would happen. If they plan to attack, the King’s army is much to strong for them to defeat. If they try a political attack, they would have no standing. I do not know much about politics, but this much I do know.

June 2nd, 1789

The weather is warmer now, and the gardens have all of the flowers out. The shades of pink and gold and green are enough to warm the heart of anyone who sees them.
The sun is out now, and the King and Queen are sitting out in the garden, in a gazebo. I wonder what it would be like to sit there, in the sun, wearing a beautiful dress while attendants catered to my every need.
It would be wonderful, I suppose.

May 12th, 1789

I have spoken to Nicole again, and I have begged her not to leave. I told her of the dangers that she would face.
“I know,” she said, “But I have to. I feel like a bird who’s wings are clipped. I need to fly. I will find a way to leave. I know the reasons I cannot, but that will not stand in my way.
“Please don’t leave me. You are my only friend. If you leave, who will I talk to? Who will I look forward to seeing again?”
“I will stay a bit longer, until September at least.”
So this is it. I have only a few more months with my only friend. When August comes, I don’t know what I will do.

May 3rd, 1789

Nicole, one of my only friends in the palace, has told me very dangerous things. If anyone but her and I had heard, she could be in very enormous trouble.
She told me that she wants to leave the palace, and pursue acting. This might not sound like much, but when someone passes the Gates of Gold, and enters the palace, they are here to stay, and will not leave. It is also scandalous for a woman to want to become a player, since it is forbidden for a woman to act. When plays are preformed for the court-not that I have been allowed to see them, but I have heard others talking about them- men play all of the female parts. If she did become an actor, she could be killed for breaking the law.
Even to leave the palace would be a trial. Once one enters the palace with the intent to live there, they do not leave. The Palace of Versailles is a cage cast in gold.

May 1st, 1789

May Day! Another feast, though not as splendid as Easter. I did not get a new dress, but wore the one that I received earlier. The Royalty and Courtiers all got new finery, and even some of the Queen’s maids, but of course the seamstresses did not have enough time to make us all new clothes.

April 17th, 1789

What never ceases to amaze me about the palace is that even when there is so much etiquette, regarding even the simplest things, such as who may hand the soap to the servant washing the King during his bath, there seems to be no care or worry about where a man may relieve himself. Today, as I was walking down one of the many hallways, I saw a man facing the corner. As I got nearer, I could hear the water hitting the marble floor!
No wonder there is always an awful stench about the palace.

April 14, 1789

Although the palace is still looking marvelous after the celebration, things are settling back down. The servants must wear work clothes again. No more fancy dresses until the next holy day or feast.

April 12, 1789

As I rose, all I thought about was the rising of the King and Queen. The rising was always something to look forward to, but this day was special. This day was Easter. I found my new gown draped over the end of my bed. During these huge celebrations, even the servants get new clothes. The dress was beautiful. It had a pale blue bell skirt, with a similarly pale yellow jacket, which would cascade down my back, ending in a short train. I wouldn’t be allowed to wear it yet, not until the feast. It would be bad Etiquette to wear a fancy dress during normal work. I shall do my best not to go mad waiting for tonight.
Later: The feast was fabulous. After fasting for what seemed like an eternity, it was wonderful to eat to my heart’s content. Marie Antoinette’s dress was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Her skirts were huge, sticking out at least three feet on either side. This arrangement must have been heavy, but it made room for a whole host of flounces, ruffles, bows, and diamonds. And her hair. Her hair rose to monstrous heights above her forehead. It too was adorned with curls, diamonds, bows, fake birds, flowers, and whole strings of pearls. The Queen looked magnificent.

Well, here it comes.

I have decided to start a story blog! yay me! Posting may be irregular, but whatever. I haven't finished the story yet. Hopefully, this will give me some incentive.