The Queen`s Confession (21 page)

Madame de Noailles was the first to reach me. She knelt and taking my hand kissed it.

She was calling me: “Your Majesty.”

Now I understood; I felt the tears rushing to my eyes. The King was dead; my poor Louis was King of France and I was the Queen.

They pressed in on us as though it were a joyful occasion. Louis turned to me and I to him.

He took my hand and spontaneously we knelt together.

We are too young,” he whispered; and we seemed to be praying together:

“Oh God, guide us, protect us. We are too young to govern is3

marvel at the design of Pate which has chosen me, the youngest of your daughters, to be Queen of the finest Kingdom in Europe.p>

MARIE ANTOINETTE TO MARIA THERESA

You are both so young and the burden which has been placed on your shoulders is very heavy. I am distressed that this should be so.

MARIA THERESA TO MARIE ANTOINETTE

“Petite Reine de vingt ans, Vous, qui traites si mal les gens, Vous repasserez la barriere …”

SONG BEING SUNG IN PARIS A MONTH AFTER MARIE ANTOINETTE’S acces<;ton

TO THE THRONE

Flattery and Reprimands

As soon as the King was dead there was no reason why anyone should remain any longer at Versailles. Our carriage had been waiting for days so there was nothing to delay us. We were to leave at once for Choisy.

The aunts, in view of the fact that they had been in close contact with the late King and were therefore undoubtedly infectious, were to live in a house by themselves as it was considered of the greatest importance that my husband should remain in good health.

We were all very solemn as we rode away from Versailles. In our carriage were Provence and Artois with their wives, and we said very little. I kept reminding myself that I should never see my grandfather again and that now I was a Queen. We were all truly grief-stricken, and it would have needed very little to set us all sobbing. Louis was the most unhappy of us all and I remembered that remark of his about

feeling 154 that the universe was about to fall upon him. Poor Louis 1 He looked as though it were already falling.

But in truth how superficial our grief was! We were all so young.

Nineteen is very young to be a Queen and a frivolous one at that.

Perhaps I make excuses; but I could never sustain an emotion for long particularly grief. Marie Therese made some comment and her odd pronunciation set my lips twitching. I looked at Artois he was smiling too. We couldn’t help it. It seemed so funny. And then suddenly we were laughing. It may have been hysterical laughter, but it was laughter none the less; and after that the solemnity of death seemed to have receded.

They were busy days at Choisy, particularly for Louis. He had put on new stature, was more dignified and, although modest, he had the air of a King. He was so earnestly eager to do what he believed to be right, so deeply conscious of his great responsibility.

I wished that I had been cleverer so that I could have been of some use to him; but I did immediately think of the Due de Choiseui, who should be recalled. He had been a friend of mine and a friend of Austria and I was certain that my mother would wish me to use my influence with my husband to have him brought back.

It was indeed a new man I discovered at Choisy, for when I mentioned the Due de Choiseui a stubborn expression crossed his face.

I never cared for the fellow,” he said.

“He was responsible for making our marriage.”

He smiled at me tenderly.

“That would have come about without him.”

“He is very clever, I have heard.”

“My father did not like him. There was a rumour that he was involved in his death.”

“Involved in your father’s death, Louis? But how?”

“He poisoned him.”

“You can’t believe that! Not of Monsieur de Choiseui I’ ” At least he failed in his duty to my father. ” He smiled at me.

“You should not concern yourself with these matters.”

“I want to help you, Louis.” is5 But he just smiled. I heard that he had once said: “Women taught me nothing when I was young. All that I learned was from men. I have read little history but I have learned this:

mistresses and even lawful wives have often ruined states. “

He was too kind to say this directly to me, but he held firmly to this belief.

The aunts, however, had some influence with him. Although they occupied a separate establishment they were allowed to visit us, which they did. They could tell the King so much of the past, they said; and he seemed to believe them, for he listened.

There was much coming and going between Choisy and Paris. Everyone was wondering how much influence the aunts would have with the new King, how much influence I should have, and whom the King would choose for his mistress. That made me want to laugh. Had they forgotten that a wife was too much of a burden for the King, let alone a mistress? That reminded me, of course, that our distressing and perplexing problem would now be more pressing than ever.

Louis at the moment was concerned with choosing a man who could advise him in the conduct of affairs, and he believed that he needed someone of great experience to make up for his own lack. His first thought was for Jean Baptist d’Arouville Machault, who had been Comptroller General of Finances until the antagonism of Madame de Pompadour had brought him down. He was certainly experienced, and it was due to the schemes of the King’s mistress that he had fallen all of which endeared him to Louis, who wrote summoning him to Choisy, for he was very eager to begin working for his country.

While he was writing the letter the aunts arrived, and I was with my husband when they were announced. Adelaide declared that she had come at once to her dear nephew’s aid, for she was sure she could give the information he must be in need of.

“You see, dear Berry … Ha, I must not say Berry now, Your Majesty. I

have lived so long and so close to your grandfather … and I know so much that can be of use 156 to you.” She included me in her anile and I was so full of admiration for the manner in -which she nursed her father that I felt a rush of affection for her.

“You are sending for Machault. Oh no … no … no …* She put her ear close to the King’s and whispered, ” Maurepas. Maurepas is the man. “

“Is he not somewhat old?”

Ah, Your Majesty is somewhat young. ” She laughed shrilly.

“That is what makes it such an excellent arrangement. You have the vigour and vitality of youth. He has the experience of age. Maurepas,” she whispered.

“A most able man. Why, when he was twenty-four he controlled the King’s house hold as well as the Admiralty.”

“But he lost his posts.”

“Why? … why? Because he was no friend of Pompadour. That was our father’s mistake. However able a man, if one of his women did not care for him it was the end.”

She went on enumerating the merits of Maurepas, and eventually my husband decided to destroy the letter he had written to Machault and instead wrote to Maurepas. I was there when he wrote the letter which seems to convey so much of his feeling at that time.

“Amidst the natural grief which overwhelms me and which I share with the entire kingdom, I have great duties to fulfill. I am the King; the word speaks of many responsibilities. Alas, I am only twenty [my husband was not even that; he had three months to wait for his twentieth birth day] and I have not the necessary experience. I have been unable to work with the ministers, as they were with the late King during his illness. My certainty of your honesty and knowledge impels me to ask you to help me. You will please me if you come here as soon as possible.”

No King of France ever ascended the throne with a greater desire for self-abnegation than my husband.

Having secured the appointment of Maurepas the aunts were triumphant, believing they were going to be the power behind the throne. They watched me suspiciously and I knew that when I was not present they warned the King against allowing his frivolous little wife to meddle.

He was so good, he immediately had two hundred thousand francs distributed to the poor; he was greatly concerned about the licentiousness of the Court and determined to abolish it. He asked Monsieur de Maurepas how he could set about bringing a state of morality to a court where morals had been lax for so long.

“There is but one way. Sire,” was Maurepas’s answer.

“It is one Your Majesty must take to set a good example. In most countries—and in particular in France—where the Sovereign leads, the people will follow.”

My husband looked at me and smiled, very serenely, very confidently.

He would never take a mistress. He loved me;

and if he could only become a normal man, we would have children and ours would be the perfect union.

But there was so much to think of at that time that that uneasy subject was forgotten.

Louis was kind. He could not even be cruel to Madame du Barry.

“Let her be dismissed from the Court,” he said.

“That should suffice. She shall go to a convent for a while until it is decided to what place she may be banished.”

It was lenient, but Louis had no wish to punish. Nor had I. I thought of that time When I had been forced to say those silly words to her.

How angry I had been at the time, but now it was all forgotten; and I could only remember how she had stayed with the King when he was so ill and she was in danger of catching the dreaded disease. Let her be banished. That was enough.

Louis quickly grasped that the country’s finances were in disorder, and determined on household economies. I was beside him and declared that I too would econo mise I gave up my droit de ceinture, a sum of money which was given by the State for my private purse which hung on my girdles.

“I have no need of this,” I said.

“Girdles are no longer worn.”

This remark was repeated in the Court and in the streets of Paris.

Paris and the whole country were pleased with us. I was their enchanting little Queen; my husband was Louis Ie Desire, and one

morning when the traders started their early158 morning trek to Les Halles it was noticed that during the night someone had written “Resurrexit* on the statue of Henri Quatre which had been erected on the Font Neuf.

When my husband heard of this his eyes shone with pleasure and determination. In every Frenchman’s opinion Henri Quatre was the greatest King France had ever had, the King who had cared for the people as no other monarch had before or since.

Now they were saying that in Louis Ie Desire this great monarch was born again.

At Choisy it was easy to forget those last nightmare days at Versailles. I was Queen of France; in his way my husband loved me;

everyone was eager to pay me homage. Why had I been apprehensive?

I knew that any mother would be anxiously watching events. No doubt it had already been reported to her how I had conducted myself during the King’s illness and death; but I myself would write to her.

With the new flush of triumph on me I wrote—rather arrogantly (I excuse myself for I was freshly savouring the flattery which is paid to a Queen):

“Although God chose that I should be born to high rank, I marvel at the design of Fate which has chosen me, the youngest of your daughters, to be Queen of the finest Kingdom in Europe.”

My husband came in while I was writing this letter and I called to him to see what I had written. He looked over my shoulder smiling. He knew of my difficult penmanship and said that was very good.

You should add something to the letter,” I told him.

“It would please her.”

“I should not know what to say to her.”

“Then I will tell you.” I thrust the pen into his hand, and jumping up pushed him into my chair. He chuckled under his breath, half embarrassed, half delighted by my spontaneous gestures as he so often was.

“Say this: ” I am very pleased, my. dear Mother, to have the

opportunity to offer you proof of my affection and regard. is9 It would give me great satisfaction to have the benefit of your counsel at such a time which is so full of difficulties for us both. “

He wrote rapidly and looked at me expectantly.

“You are so much cleverer than I with a pen,” I retorted.

“Surely you can finish it.” He continued to laugh at me. Then as though determined to impress me with his cleverness he began to write rapidly:

. but I shall do my best to satisfy you and by so doing show you the affection and gratitude I feel towards you for giving me your daughter with whom I could not be more satisfied. “

“So,” I said, ‘you are pleased with me. Thank you. Sire. ” I dropped a deep curtsy. Then I was on my feet, snatching the pen from him. I wrote below his message:

“The King wished to add his few words before allowing this letter to go to you. Dear Mother, you will see by the compliment he pays me that he is certainly fond of me, but that he does not spoil me with high-flown phrases.” He looked puzzled and half ashamed.

What would you wish me to say? “

I laughed, snatching the letter from him and sealed it myself.

“Nothing that you have not already said,” I replied.

“Indeed, Sire, Fate has given me the King of France, with whom I could not be more satisfied.”

This was typical of our relationship at this time. He was satisfied with me, although he did not wish me to meddle in politics. He was the most faithful husband at Court; but I was not sure at this time whether this was due to his devotion to me or to his affliction.

One of the most anxious women in Europe was my mother. She was so wise. She deplored the fact that the King was dead. If he had lived another ten or even five years we should have had time to prepare ourselves. As it was, we were two children. My husband had never been taught how to rule; I would never learn. That was the position as she

saw it. And how right she was I I often marvel that while all those people dose at hand were dreaming of the ideal state 160 which they landed two inexperienced young people could miraculously turn the country into, my mother from so far away could see the picture so clearly.