The Queen's Confession Part 20

Then I caught measles and as the King had not had this complaint I went to the Trianon that I might be alone. I was followed there by those who had had it or decided to risk infection; Artois and his wife, the Comtesse de Provence, the Princesse de Lamballe and Elisabeth. It was not to be expected that we should stay there without male company and the Ducs de Guines and de Coigny came with the Comte d'Esterhazy and the Baron de Besenval. These four men were constantly in my bedroom and did their best to amuse me. This caused a great deal of comment and scandal, naturally. The men were called my sick nurses; and it was whispered that the measles were nonexistent; they provided the excuse. They were asking which ladies the King would choose to nurse him if he were ill?

Mercy for once had said that he could see no harm in my having friends at the Trianon to amuse me and help me recover from my illness. The King saw nothing wrong either. Kings and Queens had received visitors in their bedrooms for as long as anyone could remember. It was a tradition to do so.

When I was better, I stayed on at the Trianon. I wanted to be there all the time. There were protests from Vienna, and Mercy told me that he had my mother's permission to remind me that a great court must be accessible to many people. If it were not, hatreds and jealousies would arise; and there would be trouble.

I listened, yawning, thinking of the play I would be putting on in my theater very soon. I should play the princ.i.p.al part myself. Surely everyone would agree that that was fitting.

The result of this interview was that I wrote to my mother and a.s.sured her that I would spend more time at Versailles. She answered me: "I am very glad that you intend to resume your State at Versailles. I know how tedious and empty it is, but if there is not State, the disadvantages which result from not holding it are greater than those of doing so. This applies particularly to your country, where the people are known to be impetuous."

I did try to do what she suggested and held State at Versailles, but so many people whom I had offended stayed away. I rarely saw the Duc de Chartres, for one. He had retired to the Palais Royale and entertained his friends there. I did not know what they discussed there; nor did it occur to me to wonder.

There seemed no point then in holding court at Versailles; why should I not spend more and more time at the Pet.i.t Trianon, where life was so much more fun, surrounded as I was by the friends I had chosen.

The blow struck me suddenly. I had not even known that she was ill.

The Abbe Vermond came to my apartments and said he must speak to me alone. His eyes were wild, his lips twitching.

I said: "What is wrong?"

He replied: "Your Majesty must prepare yourself for a great disaster."

I rose, staring at him. I saw the letter in his hand and I knew.

"The Empress ..."

He nodded.

"She is dead," I said blankly, for I knew it was true. I was conscious of a terrible loneliness such as I had never known before.

He nodded.

I could not speak. I was numbed. I felt like a child who is lost and knows it will never feel entirely safe again.

"It cannot be," I whispered.

But he a.s.sured me that it was.

I said unsteadily, "I want first to be alone ..."

He nodded and left me and I sat on the bed and thought of her as I had known her in Vienna. I saw her at her mirror while her women dressed her hair; I could feel the cold Viennese wind, sharper than anything I had known since I left Austria; I could picture her bending over my bed when I was pretending I was asleep. I could hear her voice. "You must do this. You must do that. Such legerete ... such dissipation ... You are rus.h.i.+ng on to destruction. I tremble for you."

Oh, tremble for me, Mamma, I whispered, for without you I am so alone.

The King came and wept with me. He had waited a quarter of an hour before coming. I heard him in the anteroom, where the Abbe had waited, respecting my wishes to be alone.

My husband said: "I thank you, Monsieur l'Abbe, for the service you have just done me." And I knew then that he had sent the Abbe to break the news to me.

He came in then and embraced me.

"My dear," he said, "this is so sad for us all but mostly for you."

"I cannot believe it," I said. "I had letters from her so recently."

"Ah, you will miss her letters ..."

I nodded. "Nothing will be quite the same again."

And as he sat beside me on the bed, his hand in mine, I seemed to hear her voice admonis.h.i.+ng me as it had all my life; I must not grieve. I had my husband; I had my daughter; and I must not forget that France needed a Dauphin.

I ordered Court mourning to be made and meanwhile I put on temporary mourning. I shut myself in my apartments and saw no one but members of the royal family, the d.u.c.h.esse de Polignac, and the Princesse de Lamballe. I remained thus, aloof from the Court for several days; and I thought of her continually.

When I received Mercy, he told me what he had heard of her end. She had been very ill since the middle of November and the doctors had said that she was suffering from hardening of the lungs.

On the 29th of the month she said to her women who came to her bedside, "This is my last day on earth, and my thoughts are of my children whom I leave behind." She mentioned us all by name, raising her hands to heaven as she did so.

And when she came to me, she kept murmuring, "Marie Antoinette, Queen of France"; and she burst into tears and wept long and bitterly.

All the day she lived and it was eight in the evening when she started to fight for her breath.

Joseph, who was with her, whispered: "You are very ill."

And she answered: "Ill enough to die, Joseph."

She signed to the doctors.

"I am going now," she said. "I pray you light the mortuary candle and close my eyes."

She looked at Joseph, who took her into his arms and there she died.

CHAPTER 15.

"Monsieur le Dauphin begs leave to present himself."

-Louis XVI to Marie Antoinette "I saw our little Dauphin this morning. He is very well and as lovely as an angel. The people's enthusiasm continues the same. In the streets one meets nothing but fiddles, singing, and dancing. I call that touching and in fact I know no more amiable nation than ours."

-Madame de Bombelles to Madame Elisabeth "Catherine de Medicis, Cleopatra, Agrippina, Messalina, my crimes surpa.s.s yours, and if the memory of your infamous deeds still causes people to shudder, what emotions could be aroused by an account of the cruel and lascivious Marie Antoinette of Austria."

-Quotation from a pamphlet in circulation before and after the Revolution called Essai Historique sur la Vie de Marie Antoinette "France, with the face of Austria, reduced to covering herself with a rag."

-Written under a portrait of Marie Antoinette dressed in a simple Creole blouse The Austrian Woman ONCE AGAIN I WAS BROUGHT to bed of a child. Almost a year had pa.s.sed since the death of my mother, for it was October. How I missed those letters which had arrived for ten years with such regularity. I remembered often how I used to tremble as I opened them and sometimes feel irritated by the continual complaints, but how often during the last year I had longed to receive them. How I should have enjoyed telling her that once more I was pregnant. But what was the use? She had gone forever; yet I knew that forever her memory would keep her with me.

I longed for a son, but I dared not pin my hopes on this. I could not love a child more than I loved my little daughter. I prayed: "A son ... please G.o.d, but if You see fit to send me a daughter, she will seem all that I desire."

This accouchement was different from the last. The King had said that the public were not to be admitted for I was not again going to be exposed to the sort of risk I had run before, and only members of the family and six of my ladies - including the Princesse de Lamballe, who was a member of the family - together with the accoucheur and the doctors were present.

My pains started when I woke on that morning - it was the 22nd of October - and they were so slight that I was able to take a bath; but by midday they had increased.

It was an easier labor than that of my little Madame Royale, but when the child was born, I was half-conscious and too weak to be entirely sure of what was happening.

I was aware of the people about my bed; there seemed to be a deep silence and I was afraid to ask for news of the child. The King had made a sign that no one was to speak to me; he had been very anxious during the latter weeks of my pregnancy and had commanded that when the child was born, no one was to say what its s.e.x was, for if it were a daughter, I should be disappointed and, if a Dauphin, so overjoyed that either emotion might be bad for me in the state of exhaustion I should surely experience after the delivery.

I was aware of the silence about my bed. I thought: It is a girl. Or worse still: It is still-born. No! I heard the cry of a child. I had a baby; I wanted to cry out: Give me my child. What matters if ...

Then I saw the King; there were tears in his eyes and he seemed overcome by his emotion.

I said to him: "You see how calm I am. I have asked no questions."

His voice was broken and he said: "Monsieur le Dauphin begs to present himself."

A son! My dream was fulfilled. I held out my arms and they laid him in them. A boy ... a perfect boy!

There was excitement in the bedchamber and the adjoining rooms where the ministers and members of our household waited.

I heard afterward that everyone there started kissing and embracing. I heard voices: "A Dauphin. I tell you it is true. We have a Dauphin." Even my enemies were caught up in the excitement. Madame de Guemenee, who was to take charge of him, sat in a chair with wheels and he was handed to her; she was then wheeled to her apartments close by and everyone crowded round her to see the child. They wanted to touch him, or his shawl or even the chair in which the Princesse sat.

"He must become a Christian without delay," said the King.

Our little Dauphin was baptized at three o'clock.

One hundred and one guns were fired immediately so that Paris should be aware of the s.e.x of the child. That was the signal for the city to go wild with joy. Bells were ringing; processions were formed; at night bonfires were lighted and there were the usual firework displays. I could scarcely believe that these were the people who took such joy in those disgusting lampoons which were circulated about me; now they were asking G.o.d to protect me, the mother of their Dauphin. Now they were dancing, drinking my health, crying: "Long live the King and Queen. Long live the Dauphin."

As my mother said, they were an impetuous people.

I was delighted with my new baby: I sent for Madame Royale that she might see her little brother and we stood hand in hand admiring him as he lay in his cradle. She was three years old and growing lovelier every day, besides being very intelligent.

I caught sight of Armand standing at the door scowling at us and I smiled at him, but he dropped his eyes. And as I pa.s.sed him I ruffled his hair. He was no longer as pretty as he had once been; but perhaps I was comparing him with my own little ones.

The tocsins rang for three days and nights. When I awoke, I heard them and the realization of my great joy would come flooding over me. A two-day holiday was declared throughout Paris. Wine flowed freely in the streets; buffets of meat were set up; and people wore garlands of artificial flowers about their necks and called to each other "Long live the Dauphin!" as a kind of greeting.

Festival followed festival. Each of the guilds sent representatives to Versailles; and for nine days the ceremonies continued. The whole Court a.s.sembled to receive them and there was great hilarity when the sedan-chairman's guild sent a chair with a model of a wet nurse and a Dauphin seated in it. The nurse was a copy of the one we had engaged, who had been speedily nicknamed Madame Poitrine. The chimney sweeps brought a model of a chimney on which small chimney sweeps sat and sang praises of the newborn heir to the throne; the tailors brought a miniature uniform; the blacksmiths an anvil on which they played a tune. The market women put on their black silk dresses which they kept for years and brought out only on the most auspicious occasions and sang praises of me and my little son. But the most unusual of all were the locksmiths, who felt they had a special affinity with the King because of his interest in their profession. They brought a huge lock, which they presented to the King and their leader asked if His Majesty would care to try to unlock it. To do so was the task of a true locksmith and if the King would prefer one of their band to demonstrate, he had but to command, but knowing His Majesty's skill ... and so on. The King, thus challenged, determined to have a try and amid great applause he very quickly succeeded. And as he turned the lock, from it sprang a steel figure which was seen to be a marvelously wrought tiny Dauphin.

The celebrations continued. When I rode out into the streets of Paris, the people cheered me.

I believed my indiscretions and follies of the past were forgotten because I had given this country what it wanted; an heir, a little Dauphin.

Looking back, I think I reached the peak of my contentment then. The King shared my emotions. Almost every sentence he uttered contained the words, "My son" ... or "the Dauphin." All the servants adored him; people would wait for hours for a glimpse of him. He was a wonderful baby, a beautiful contented child - the center of our lives. Louis went about giving his hand to everyone, listening avidly to their conversation - about the Dauphin of course; tears came into his eyes every time the child was referred to, so, as can be imagined, he was constantly in tears. Elisabeth told me that at the baptism - she was his G.o.dmother - the King had been unable to take his eyes from the child.

Madame Poitrine was an important person in our lives. The name fitted her; she was enormous and the doctors agreed that her milk was excellent. She was the wife of one of the gardeners and she regarded the Dauphin as her own and, as he was the most important person in the palace, she took second place. She shouted like a grenadier; she swore often; but her placidity was remarkable; neither my presence nor that of the King ruffled her in the least. She would say: "You can't touch him now. I've just got him off. I won't have him disturbed." Which amused us and made us laugh and be very content, for we knew how she cared for our baby. She accepted the clothes we gave her, the laces and fine linen, with a shrug, but absolutely refused to use rouge or powder on her hair. She just did not hold with all that, she said, and she couldn't see what good it would do her baby.

Long after Elisabeth showed me a letter which at the time she had received from a friend, Madame de Bombelles. It brought those days back so clearly and we both wept over the paper.

"I saw our little Dauphin this morning. He is very well, and lovely as an angel. The people's enthusiasm continues the same. In the streets one meets nothing but fiddles, singing, and dancing. I call that touching and in fact I know no more amiable nation than ours."

Oh, yes, they were happy then and pleased with us. Why did it not remain so?

I look back over the last years and I try to see where all the tragedies could have been prevented. There must have been a way of stopping them.

Ever since I had been Queen, I had had periodic visits from the two very clever court jewelers Boehmer and Ba.s.senge. Madame du Barry had admired their work. Perhaps it was because of this that they had made a fantastic necklace which they had hoped to sell to her. They had collected the finest stones in Europe, sinking their capital in this project. Unfortunately for them Louis XV died before it could be offered and then there was, of course, no hope of Madame du Barry's having it.

They were in despair and their first thought was of me.

When they showed it to me, I was dazzled at the sight of all those magnificent stones, but secretly I thought the necklace, which was rather like a slave collar, a little vulgar. It was not the great temptation the jewelers had thought it would be and perhaps the knowledge that it had been made with Madame du Barry in mind did not attract me either.

The jewelers were astounded and horrified. They had thought I should be enchanted and find some means to get it, knowing my pa.s.sion for diamonds.

They showed the necklace to the King, who called me to look at it. "You like it?" asked my husband.

I was in one of my penitent moods at the time, having been severely reprimanded by my mother for extravagance, and I said that I thought we had more need of a s.h.i.+p than a diamond necklace.

The King agreed with me, but like the jewelers he was surprised. They pleaded. They must sell the necklace and they had hoped that I would have it. But I was firm; I was not going to incur the expense and my mother's anger - for she would surely hear of the purchase - for something I did not very much like.

The King told me that if I wanted the necklace, he would empty his privy purse of everything he possessed to please me.

I laughed and thanked him. He was so good, I told him, but I had enough diamonds, and 1,600,000 francs for an ornament that would only be worn four or five times a year was ridiculous.

I forgot all about the necklace and then several years later, when I was with my little daughter, Boehmer called and asked if he might see me.

Thinking he had some small trinket to show me which my daughter might like to see, I said he should be admitted. As soon as he came in, I saw how distressed he was; for he flung himself on his knees and burst into tears.

"Madame," he cried, "I shall be ruined if you do not buy my necklace."

"That necklace!" I cried. "I thought we had heard the last of it."

"I am on the verge of ruin, Madame. If you do not buy my necklace, I shall throw myself into the river."

My daughter moved closer to me, gripping my skirts; she was staring in horror at the hysterical man.

"Get up, Boehmer," I said. "I do not like such behavior. Honest people do not have to beg on their knees. I shall be sorry if you kill yourself, but I shall in no way be responsible for your death. I did not order the necklace and I have always told you that I do not want it. Please do not speak to me of it again. Try to break it up and sell the stones instead of talking of drowning yourself. I am displeased that you should make such a scene in my presence and that of my daughter. Please do not let this happen again and now go."

He went and after that I avoided him. I heard, though, that he was still desperately trying to sell the necklace and I asked Madame Campan to find out how he was succeeding, for I was sorry for the man.

Madame Campan one day told me that the necklace had been sold to the Sultan of Constantinople for his favorite wife.

I sighed with relief.

"How glad I am that now we shall have heard the last of that vulgar necklace."

I was spending more and more time at the Pet.i.t Trianon. My theater was now completed and I was longing to put on some plays. I had formed my troupe, which consisted of Elisabeth, Artois and some of his friends, the Polignacs and theirs.

My sister-in-law Marie Josephe refused to join us, saying it was beneath her dignity to act on a stage.