Okay, so I got obsessed with Marie Antoinette’s final moments after binge-watching some French Revolution docs last weekend. Wanted to dig into what she actually said before the guillotine dropped. Started googling like crazy.
Step 1: Sorting Through Messy Stories
First hit up Wikipedia – classic move. Saw “Pardon me, sir, I meant not to do it” or something. Felt weird though, ’cause everyone always paints her as this airhead queen. Would she apologize for stepping on an executioner’s foot? Searched French history forums deep into Tuesday night. Coffee #4 kicked in. Found a thread arguing about eyewitness accounts being shaky. Chaos.
Then I remembered this old English historian friend. Texted him at 2 AM like “DUDE WHAT DID SHE SAY?”. Sent back: “Most credible version? ‘Monsieur, je vous demande pardon’.” Translation: basically “Sir, I ask your pardon” after bumping the executioner. Anti-climactic? Maybe.
Step 2: Checking Primary-ish Sources
Wednesday morning hit the local uni library archives. Found a dusty biography with writings by Henri Sanson – y’know, the headsman’s great-grandson? Dude kept family notes. Flipped pages ’til my fingers went gray. Boom. Passage scribbled: “She spoke briefly to my ancestor… her words were an apology for her clumsiness.”
- No grand speech?
- No curse against revolution?
- Just… politeness?
Weirdly made her more human. Like, facing death but still apologizing for bumping someone. Went down a rabbit hole about whether Sanson’s notes were reliable. Found counterarguments claiming royals always apologized to executioners back then – tradition or something.
Step 3: Walking It Through
Last night I couldn’t sleep. Kept imagining October 16, 1793 at Place de la Révolution. Wore slippers walking around my kitchen pretending it was the scaffold. Tripped on the cat. Accidentally whispered “Pardon” to the startled furball. Felt stupid but also… weirdly got it? That instinct to say sorry even when your world’s ending.
What’s the takeaway from all this? Honestly expected some profound last words. Reality: she probably mumbled an awkward apology while terrified. Humanizes her more than any Versailles wigs-and-cake story. Revolution’s brutal machinery met… basic manners. Kinda tragic. Kinda real.
Still chewing on it. Might bake croissants tomorrow & pretend Versailles’s kitchens are my apartment. Practice records don’t always go where you think, right?
