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. 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 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.
Her answer to my thoughtless letter—the one to which I had made my husband add his comments was:
“I do not compliment you on your new dignity. A high price has been paid for this, and you will pay still higher unless you go on living quietly and innocently in the manner in which you have lived since your arrival in France. You have had the guidance of one who was as a father to you and it is due to his kindness that you have been able to win the approval of the people which is now yours. This is good, but you must learn how to keep that approval and use it for the good of the King your husband, and the country of which you are Queen. 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.”
She was pleased that my husband had joined with me in writing to her and hoped that we should both do all we could to maintain friendly relations between France and Austria.
She was extremely worried about me—my frivolity, my dissipation (by which she and Mercy meant my preoccupation with matters which were of small importance), my love of dancing, and gossip, my disrespect for etiquette, my impulsiveness. All qualities, my mother pointed out, to be deplored in a Dauphine but not even to be tolerated in a Queen.
“You must learn to be interested in serious matters,” she wrote.
“This will be useful if the King should wish to discuss state business with you. You should be very careful not to be extravagant; nor to lead the King to this. At the moment the people love you. You must preserve this state of affairs. You have both been fortunate beyond my hopes; you must continue in the love of your people. This will make you and them happy. “
I replied dutifully that I realised the importance of my position. I confessed my frivolity. I swore that I would be a credit to my mother.
I wrote and told her of all the homage, all the ceremonies, how eager everyone was to please me. She wrote back, sometimes tender, often scolding; but her comment was: “I fancy her good days are over.”
Four days after we arrived at Choisy a mesenger came from the aunts’ house nearby to tell us that Madame Adelaide was suffering from fever and pains in the back. It would seem too much to ask that they should all three escape the infection, and indeed it was proved that Adelaide had smallpox, and as Victoire and Sophie always followed her in what she did, very soon they too were suffering from the dreaded disease.
There was consternation at Choisy. I had already had a mild attack so I was not vulnerable, but what of the new King? I persuaded him to be inoculated, which I knew resulted in a very mild attack and made one immune; and as a result he was treated, together with Provence, Artois and Artois’s wife. Louis was always thoughtful of others and immediately gave orders that no one who had not had smallpox was to come near him.
The inoculation was considered a dangerous procedure, but I was absolutely certain that it was the right thing. Mercy, however, warned me that if all went well I should be judged wise but if things went the other way I should be blamed. He watched me severely, hoping I should see the lesson in this. But I merely laughed at him and said I knew my bus-band and the others would be grateful to me for having persuaded them to this measure.
As it happened I was right—but I could so easily have been wrong.
I wrote exultantly to my mother to tell how many spots my husband had.
I told her too about the aunts.
“I am forbidden to go to them. It is dreadful for them to pay so quickly for the great sacrifice they made.”
I should have liked to visit them and to tell them how much I admired what they had done, but I had to obey the order to keep away from them.
During those days our popularity grew. The people had so hated Louis
XV that they would have loved my husband merely for the fact that he was different. They loved his youth, his friendly manners towards them and his simplicity. He had ordered eight suits of frieze cloth, and this was discussed through Paris. Not silk, brocade, and velvets, but frieze cloth ! Being a King to him meant serving his people, not having them admire him; and he was more at ease with them, so it was said, that he was with noblemen.
Once at Choisy he went for a walk by himself, and when he returned, I, with my sisters-in-law, met him in the park and we sat on a bench eating strawberries. The people came to look at us and we smiled at them. They were delighted; I heard later that
we made a charming picture.
Sometimes we walked arm in arm in the alleys at Choisy, and the people said that it was pleasant to see such domestic felicity. How different was a King who could take pleasure in simple pastimes, from one who had neglected his wife and cared for nothing but his mistresses.
It was decided that in view of the fact that the aunts were suffering from smallpox we should leave Choisy and go to La Muette, and I was certainly glad to be nearer Paris. The people came out in thousands to see us arrive and we had to go out on the balconies and smile and bow to them. During Grandfather’s reign the gates of the Bois de Boulogne had been closed, but my husband ordered them to be opened so that the people could walk about wherever they liked. This delighted them and they would come to the chateau as early as six in the morning hoping for a glimpse of us. As there was nothing Louis liked better than to please the people and nothing I liked better than to be admired, everyone was happy.
Louis would walk among the people unguarded, unceremoniously and on foot. One day he had been out walking and I was riding; I was leaving the chateau and he was returning, and when I saw him I dismounted and gave my horse to one of the guards and ran on foot to greet my husband.
The people stood in silence watching and Louis embraced and kissed me on either cheek.
The cheers were deafening. Some of the women wiped their eyes. Their emotions were very easily aroused; Louis took my arm and we walked back to the chateau, the people following us, and when we reached the chateau we had to appear on the balcony and they kept shouting for us and would not let us go.
“Long live the King and Queen. Long live Louis Ie Desire and our beautiful Queen.”
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 God’s blessing and thus keep your people’s affections. I pray God 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 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 ras de Scant Maw, they all wore black stockings and black gloves, and coifs like nuns, and even their fans were made of black crepe.
And there was I with my ladies of honour waiting to receive them. I could hear the young Marquise de ClaremontTonnerre tittering 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 Duchesses.
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 ClaremontTonnerre.
“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 behaviour at the mourning ceremony; and the old ladies declared that they would never come to pay their respects to that petite 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 monies, 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:
“Petite Reine, de vmgt ans, Vow, qui trcdtess si mal les gens, Vous re passeres la barriere Loire, la ire la ire lanlaire, la ire lama.” 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 towards 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 morion by the Due 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 Font 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 Due 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 i 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 libelling 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 thati’ ” 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 embarrassing 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 Choiseui and said: “You have put on weight since we last met. Monsieur Ie Due; and you have grown balder.”
Then he turned away, leaving the Due 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 Choiseui, 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 Choiseui had not been taken back. I had asked the King to receive an ex-minister and the King had shown his respect for me doing so. That pleased her.
The Queen`s Confession Page 17