On her last morning, Marie Antoinette dressed simply in white, and fastened black mourning ribbons to her wrists. Since the execution of her husband, Louis XVI, some nine months earlier, her fate had probably been inevitable. So when, at 10 that morning, the judges of the Revolutionary Tribunal entered her cell to pronounce the sentence of death, she was not at all surprised. “This is quite useless,” she said simply. “I know the sentence only too well.”
To those who observed her final hours, Marie Antoinette seemed almost unnaturally composed. When, a little later, the executioner Henri Sanson began to cut her hair, she gave a start as the blade touched her neck, but generally she remained astonishingly calm. Even as the cart rattled towards the guillotine, wrote one Victorian…