The Queen's Confession Part 12

It was wonderful. Louis and I held hands, kissed each other, and I threw kisses to the people.

It was a very happy day and of course every incident was reported to my mother.

She seemed pleased at last. She wrote: "I cannot describe my joy and consolation at what I hear ... A King of twenty, a Queen of nineteen; and they act with humanity, generosity, and prudence. Remember that religion and morals are necessary to win G.o.d's blessing and thus keep your people's affections. I pray G.o.d that he will keep you in His care for the good of your people, for the good of your family, and for that of your mother, to whom you give new hope. How I love the French! What vitality there is in a nation which feels so strongly." Characteristically she added: "One only wishes they will acquire more constancy and less frivolity. By correcting their morals these happy changes might be brought about."

She was right as usual. These were surely the most inconstant people in the world.

Naturally the first thing I had done on becoming Queen of France was to rid myself of the tiresome Madame l'Etiquette, and freedom, I think, went to my head. I was determined to do all in my power to flout their stupid etiquette. Surely as Queen I could set the tone of the Court. The people adored me; I knew that all the young members of the Court were looking forward to a wonderful time. The laughter I could so easily provoke was as music in my ears. I was tired of all the old ladies. I was going to have friends ... young and gay like myself.

I said a great many foolish things.

I thought people over thirty were ancient. "I cannot understand," I said lightly, "how people of that age can come to Court."

I was encouraged by all the ladies of my acquaintance, who laughed heartily at everything I said. How I hated it when I had to receive the old ladies who had come to pay their mourning respects. How hideous they looked! I remarked behind my fan to the Princesse de Lamballe that the centenarians had come to see me. She giggled and we had to keep our faces hidden by our fans for they looked like crows in their plain dresses of raz de Saint Maur; they all wore black stockings and black gloves, coifs like nuns, and even their fans were made of black crepe.

And there was I with my ladies of honor waiting to receive them. I could hear the young Marquise de Clermont-Tonnerre t.i.ttering behind me. She was a gay little creature and I was fond of her because she laughed so readily.

I heard the giddy creature say that she was tired of looking at centenarians and would sit on the floor. No one would know because Her Majesty's dress and that of the ladies in the front row would hide her.

But she did not content herself with that. I caught her just as the blackest of the black crows was bowing before me, peeping round the panniers of my gown and I could not, much as I tried, restrain my features. I put my fan up to my lips, but the gesture was seen and I was aware of the glances of the old Princesses and d.u.c.h.esses.

When I spoke, I heard the laughter in my voice and I could not stop.

As soon as the ceremony was over, I retired to my apartments and I and my ladies were almost hysterical with laughter.

"Do you think they saw us, Your Majesty?" asked little Clermont-Tonnerre.

"What do I care if they did. Should the Queen of France care for the opinion of ... of bundles ... like that."

Everyone thought that was very funny; but oddly enough very soon the whole Court was talking of my frivolous behavior at the mourning ceremony; and the old ladies declared that they would never come to pay their respects to that pet.i.te moqueuse again.

When I heard this, I laughed aloud. I was the Queen of France, did I care for the old ladies; they were collets montes, and if they did not come again to my court, that suited me very well.

My conduct at the mourning ceremony was discussed everywhere. So was my silly remark about people of thirty being too ancient to come to Court. I had forgotten how many people over thirty there were at Court.

My enemies had produced a song which was meant to be a warning to me: Pet.i.te Reine, de vingt ans, Vous, qui traitez si mal les gens, Vous repa.s.serez la Barriere Laire, laire, laire, lanlaire, laire, lanla.

So if I were to misbehave, they would send me packing. It should have been a warning as to the fickleness of the people.

Frivolous as I was, it was generally supposed that I should have great influence with the King. He was clearly very indulgent toward me and he always tried to please me in every way. I knew that it was the wish of my mother and Mercy that I should guide him through them and I fancied myself in the part of King's adviser.

That unpleasant little rhyme, I discovered, could have been set in motion by the Duc d'Aiguillon's friends - no doubt he himself had had a part in it. He had been a great supporter of Madame du Barry, who was now safely housed in the Convent of the Pont aux Dames, but he was still at Court to plague me. I pointed this out to Louis and I prevailed upon him to see that the Duc was my enemy. My husband promised to send him into exile. I did not want that because I knew what it meant to men such as he was to be sent away from Paris, so I asked the King merely to dismiss him from his post and leave it at that.

How blind I was! He knew he had me to blame for his dismissal, and he did not thank me for softening the blow; in Paris he and his friends set about libeling me as they so well knew how to do; and that was the beginning of hundreds of damaging pamphlets and songs which in the next few years were to be circulated about me.

But at the time I was flushed with triumph. I had had Aiguillon dismissed; now I would bring back my dear friend Monsieur de Choiseul.

"Poor Monsieur de Choiseul," I said one day to my husband when we were alone in our apartment, "he is sad at Chanteloup. He longs to be back at Court."

"I never liked him," my husband replied.

"Your grandfather liked him ..."

"And in time dismissed him."

"That was due to du Barry. She brought that about. Your Majesty would not be influenced by a woman like that!"

"I shall always remember what he said to me one day. 'Monseigneur,' he said, 'I may one day have the misfortune to be your subject, but I shall never be your servant.'"

"We all say things at times which we do not mean. I am sure I do."

He smiled at me tenderly. "I am sure you do too," he said.

I put my arms about his neck. He flushed slightly. He liked these attentions, but they made him uncomfortable. I believe they brought back memories of those embarra.s.sing embraces in the bedchamber.

"Louis," I said, "I want you to allow me to invite Monsieur de Choiseul to return to Court. Can you deny me such a little thing?"

"You know that I find it difficult to deny you anything but ..."

"I knew you would not disappoint me." I released him, thinking: I've won.

I lost no time in making it clear to Monsieur de Choiseul that the King had given him permission to return to Court and Monsieur de Choiseul lost no time in coming.

He was full of hope and when I saw him, although he had grown much older since our last meeting, I still thought him a fascinating man, for with his odd pug face he had never been handsome.

I was to learn something about my husband. He was not to be led. He was fond of me; he was proud of me; but he really believed that women must be kept out of politics and he was not going to allow even me to interfere.

He looked coolly at Choiseul and said: "You have put on weight since we last met, Monsieur le Duc; and you have grown balder."

Then he turned away, leaving the Duc disconsolate. But there was nothing he could do; the King had turned away and dismissed him.

It was significant. I was not going to influence my husband. That would be a matter for his ministers.

I was sorry - but for Monsieur de Choiseul, not for myself. I was ready to give up my dreams of power; nothing as serious as politics could hold my attention for long and Mercy would have to tell my mother that the King was a man who would go his own way and that they must not expect me to meddle.

Mercy told me that my mother was not sorry Monsieur de Choiseul had not been taken back. I had asked the King to receive an ex-minister and the King had shown his respect for me by doing so. That pleased her. As for Monsieur de Choiseul, she did not think his character was such as would allow him to be of much help to the French nation at this stage of its history. At the same time I had done well to bring about the dismissal of the Duc d'Aiguillon.

It was always pleasant to have praise from my mother; but I could not enjoy her approval for long.

Marie Antoinette became Queen of France and her husband, Louis XVI, the King, when his grandfather Louis XV died in 1774. In this 1775 painting by Jean-Baptiste Gautier Dagoty, she is twenty.

CHAPTER 9.

"If the price of bread does not go down and the Ministry is not changed we will set fire to the four corners of the Chateau of Versailles."

"If the price does not go down we will exterminate the King and the entire race of Bourbons."

-Placards attached to the walls of the Chateau of Versailles during La Guerre des Farines, 1775 The Grim Rehearsal SOON AFTER WE BECAME KING and Queen, Louis gave me the gift which brought more pleasure to me than anything else I ever possessed.

He came into our bedchamber one day and said rather sheepishly that it was the custom of each King of France to present his Queen on her accession to the throne with a residence, which should be all her own to do with as she will. He had decided to present me with Le Pet.i.t Trianon.

Le Pet.i.t Trianon! That enchanting little house! Oh, it was delightful. I loved it. Nothing, I declared, could have made me happier.

He stood smiling at me while I threw my arms about his neck and hugged him.

"It is very small."

"It's a doll's house," I cried.

"Hardly grand enough for the Queen of France perhaps." "It's beautiful!" I cried. "I wouldn't exchange it for any chateau in the world."

He began to chuckle quietly, as he often did at my wild enthusiasm.

"So it is all mine!" I cried. "I may do as I like there? There I can live like a simple peasant. I'll tell you one thing, Louis, there is one guest who will not be invited there. It is Etiquette. That may remain behind in Versailles."

I summoned the Princess de Lamballe and with some of my youngest ladies went to look at Le Pet.i.t Trianon without delay. It looked different from when I had glanced casually at it en pa.s.sant. I suppose because it was entirely mine. I loved it because it was small ... a refuge, situated just far enough from the palace to be a retreat and not far enough for one to have to make a journey to reach it.

It was delightful - a villa. This was how humbler people lived; and how often during the life of a Queen, with so many tiresome ceremonies to be performed, did one long to be humble. Little Clermont-Tonnerre cried that it had been the maison de plaisir of Louis XV - the little love nest where he and Madame du Barry had taken refuge from Versailles.

"That is all over," I said firmly. "Now it will be known as the refuge of Marie Antoinette. We will change it. We will make it entirely my house so that nothing remains of that woman."

"Poor creature. Doubtless she would like to change Pont aux Dames for the Trianon now."

I frowned. I did not want to gloat over my enemies' misfortunes. I never did. I merely wanted to forget them.

There were eight rooms only, and we were all very amused by the odd contraption which was a kind of table and which could be made to rise from the bas.e.m.e.nt to the dining room. This had been constructed for the use of Louis XV, so that when he brought a mistress to the Pet.i.t Trianon who did not wish to be seen by servants, a meal could be prepared in the bas.e.m.e.nt and sent up to the dining room without any servants appearing. We shrieked with laughter as the old thing creaked up and down.

The house was tastefully furnished. My grandfather would doubtless have seen to that. I did not think the furniture with its delicately embroidered upholstery was the choice of du Barry.

"Oh, it is perfect ... perfect!" I cried running from room to room. "What fun I shall have here!"

I ran to the windows and looked out on beautiful lawns and gardens. I could do so much here. I could refurnish it if I wished, although I liked the present furniture. There must be nothing overpoweringly splendid to remind me of Versailles. Here I would entertain my dearest friends and we should cease to be Queen and subjects.

I could not see Versailles from the windows, which was an added charm. Here I could come when I wanted to forget the chateau and court life.

I was delighted that my husband had given me this little house. How much more charming than Le Grand Trianon, which Louis XIV had built for Madame de Maintenon. I could never have felt so pleased with that.

I could scarcely wait to get back to Versailles to tell my husband how enchanted I was with his gift.

In February my brother Maximilian visited me. My mother had sent him on a tour of Europe in order to complete his education, so naturally he came to see me. He was eighteen and as soon as I saw him, I realized how my years in France had changed me. This was young Max, who had sat with Caroline and me in the gardens of Schonbrunn and watched our elder brothers and sisters perform. He had always been chubby, now he had grown fat; and he seemed awkward and decidedly inelegant.

I was rather ashamed of him, particularly now, knowing the French so well, I could imagine what they were saying about him, although they received him so graciously. But graciousness was lost on Max; he didn't recognize it; he didn't see what mistakes he made, because he thought everyone who didn't agree with him must be wrong. He was like Joseph but without my eldest brother's good sense.

Louis asked him to sup with us privately and behaved as though he were a brother, and I was pleased to ask questions about home and my mother. Yet the more I listened, the more I realized how far from the old life I had grown. It was five years since I had s.h.i.+vered naked in the Salon de Remise on that sandbank in the Rhine. I felt I had become French and when I looked at Max - heavy, awkward, humorless - I was not sorry.

It was inevitable that there should be gossip about my brother; all his little gaucheries were recorded and exaggerated. Through the Court they spoke of him as the Arch-Fool instead of the Archduke and stories about him were circulated through the streets of Paris by my enemies.

Max was not only ignorant of French etiquette but determined not to bow to it; and because of this a contretemps arose. As a visiting royalty it was his duty to call on the Princes of the Blood Royal and they awaited a call from him; but Max stubbornly said that as he was a visitor to Paris it was their duty to call on him first. Both were adamant and a difficult situation was created, for none of them would give way, and consequently Max did not meet the Princes. Orleans, Conde, and Conti declared this was a deliberate insult to the Royal House of France.

When my brother-in-law Provence gave a banquet and a ball in honor of my brother, the three Princes of the Blood Royal made their excuses and left the city. It was a clear insult to my brother.

That in itself was bad enough, but when the Princes returned, very ostentatiously, to Paris, the people crowded into the streets to cheer them and murmur against Austrians.

When Orleans came to Court, I reproached him.

"The King invited my brother to supper," I said, "which you never did."

"Madame," replied Orleans haughtily, "until the Archduke called on me, I could not invite him."

"This eternal etiquette! It wearies me."

How impulsively I spoke! That would be interpreted as: "She pokes fun at French customs; she would subst.i.tute those of Austria." I must guard my tongue. I must think before I spoke.

"My brother is only in Paris for a short time," I explained. "There is so much for him to do."

Orleans coldly inclined his head; and my husband, seeing him, expressed his annoyance by banis.h.i.+ng Orleans, with Conde and Conti, from the Court for a week.

That was small consolation, for the Princes were constantly appearing in public and being cheered by the people as though they had done something very brave and commendable in refusing to be kind to my brother.

I was not sorry to see Max go. My sister Maria Amalia was causing a certain amount of scandal through her behavior in Parma. This was discussed in Paris, and it was considered that I had somewhat disreputable relations.

"But what can you expect of Austrians?" people were asking one another.

After Max's visit I don't think the people of France were ever quite so fond of me as they had been before.

While I was occupied with the Trianon - and in fact I gave little serious thought to anything else at this time - a very grave situation had arisen in France.

I did not clearly understand it, but I knew that the King was very worried. He did not wish to speak to me of these anxieties, for my attempts to get him to reinstate Choiseul had strengthened him in his desire to keep me out of politics. He liked to see me happy with the Trianon; and that kept me busy.

As I saw it, what happened was this.

In August, Louis had appointed Anne Robert Jacques Turgot as Comptroller General of Finances. He was a very handsome man, about forty-seven, with abundant brown hair, which hung to his shoulders; he had well-cut features and clear brown eyes. My husband was fond of him because there was a similarity between them. They were both awkward in company. I once heard that when he was a child, Turgot used to hide himself behind a screen when there were visitors at his home and only emerge after they had gone. He was always awkward and blushed easily; and this gaucherie rather naturally endeared him to my husband.

Louis was very pleased at the appointment and talked to me a little about Turgot, but I was too much immersed in my own affairs to listen for long; but I did gather that the finances of the country were, in my husband's opinion, such as to cause grave concern and that Turgot had what he called a three-point programme, which was: No bankruptcy.

No increase in taxation.

No loans.

"You see," said my husband, "there is only one way to make possible Turgot's programme. Complete economy to reduce expenses. We must save twenty millions a year and we must pay off our old debts."