After Antoinette became a mother in December of 1778, her participation in Carnival was greatly mitigated, since she preferred not be too far away from her babies at night. It is sad that the enjoyment of the masquerade balls during her teenage years would later lead to many false rumors about her lifestyle.
Versailles is not usually associated with Lenten penance, but fasting and abstinence, as well as some mortification, were observed there by many during the Old Regime. For one thing, there would be no plays or operas performed; all the public theaters were closed in France during Lent. The daughters of Louis XV were known for their scrupulous observance of fasting and abstinence, although Madame Victoire found such penance especially trying. According to Madame Campan:
Without quitting Versailles, without sacrificing her easy chair, she [Madame Victoire] fulfilled the duties of religion with punctuality, gave to the poor all she possessed, and strictly observed Lent and the fasts. The table of Mesdames acquired a reputation for dishes of abstinence....Madame Victoire was not indifferent to good living, but she had the most religious scruples respecting dishes of which it was allowable to partake at penitential times....The abstinence which so much occupied the attention of Madame Victoire was so disagreeable to her, that she listened with impatience for the midnight hour of Holy Saturday; and then she was immediately supplied with a good dish of fowl and rice, and sundry other succulent viands.11
Their nephew Louis XVI was also known for his fastidious observance of Lent, as recorded once again by the faithful Madame Campan:
Austere and rigid with regard to himself alone, the King observed the laws of the Church with scrupulous exactness. He fasted and abstained throughout the whole of Lent. He thought it right that the queen should not observe these customs with the same strictness. Though sincerely pious, the spirit of the age had disposed his mind to toleration.12
Some of the King’s tolerant behavior included the permitting of certain games at court during Lent. During the Lent of 1780, the Austrian ambassador Comte de Mercy was shocked to discover Louis XVI playing blind man’s bluff with Antoinette and some members of the Court. Count Mercy described the scandalous scene to the Empress Maria Theresa:
Amusements have been introduced of such noisy
and puerile character that they are little suited to Lenten meditations, and still less to the dignity of the august personages who take part in them. They are games resembling blind man’s bluff, that first lead to the giving of forfeits, and then to their redemption by some bizarre penance; the commotion is kept up sometimes until late into the night. The number of persons who take part in these games, both of the Court and the town, makes them still more unsuitable; everyone is surprised to see that the King plays them with great zest, and that he can give himself up wholly to such frivolities in such a serious condition of State affairs as obtains at present.13
Given the long hours that Louis XVI devoted to affairs of state and the fact that people often complained that he was too serious and reserved, it seems that Mercy should have been pleased to see the King come out of his shell a little and take some recreation. But then, Mercy often tried to cast Louis in an unfavorable light. As far as the Empress was concerned, however, Lent was not the time for any games. Louis’ devotion was sincere all the same; he was constant in his routine of prayer and good works, observing the fasts of the Church for Lent and the Ember days even throughout his imprisonment.14
The King’s sister, Madame Élisabeth, also steadfastly kept the discipline of Lent in both good times and bad. In the Temple prison, the jailers mocked the princess’ attempts to keep Lent as best she could. Louis XVI and Antoinette’s daughter, Madame Royale, who shared her aunt’s imprisonment, recorded it thus:
Having no fish, she asked for eggs or other dishes on fast-days. They refused them, saying that in equality there was no difference of days; there were no weeks, only decades. They brought us a new almanac, but we did not look at it. Another time, when my aunt again asked for fast-day food they answered: ‘Why, citoyenne, don’t you know what has taken place? None but fools believe all that.’ She made no further requests.15
As for Antoinette herself, she did not fast and abstain throughout every day of Lent as Louis did; her health did not permit it. However, after baby Madame Sophie died in 1787, it was noted that the Queen became more fervent in her devotions, especially during Lent. Jean Chalon in Chère Marie-Antoinette notes that in 1788 she gave orders that her table strictly comply with all the regulations of the Church.16 Even the Swedish ambassador remarked: “The queen seems to have turned devout.”17
In France, as in other Christian nations, decorated eggs were given as gifts at Easter. The custom began in the fourth century when eating eggs were banned by the Church during the Lenten fast. On Easter Sunday, it was the tradition at Versailles from the days of Louis XIV for the King to be given the largest egg laid during Holy Week. The eggs of Versailles would be decorated with colors and gold leaf and be blessed on Easter Sunday, then distributed by the King to his courtiers and servants. There were usually many eggs that needed to be eaten, due to the long fast, and so omelettes were generally part of the feasting on Easter Sunday. During Eastertide, it was also the time for anyone who wished to be considered a practicing Catholic to make their “Easter Duty” which meant receiving Holy Communion at least once between the first Sunday of Lent and Trinity Sunday. It also meant that if the individual was conscious of grave sin they had to go to confession, because it is forbidden to receive the Eucharist if one has committed a serious or mortal sin. Those who refused to confess and receive Communion were usually a source of scandal to the faithful. Both Louis XIV and Louis XV went for many years without making their Easter duty. However, to Louis XVI and Antoinette, the Easter duty was a matter of importance and they each went to great lengths during the Revolution to perform their Easter duties.
Pentecost occurs on the fiftieth day after Easter and commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles of Jesus Christ, and thus is the birthday of the Church. In royal France it was a day kept with great festivity, with solemn high masses and sermons. Many people came to Versailles to watch the “Procession of the Blue Ribbons” which was a procession of the members of the Order of the Holy Spirit, with their blue sashes and diamond stars. Pentecost Sunday, and the following Monday, were kept as national holidays until the Revolution abolished it in 1795.
La Fête Dieu or Corpus Christi marked the transition from spring to summer. It celebrated the Catholic teaching on the Holy Eucharist with great solemnity. The King, Queen and court would process around the town of Versailles with the Blessed Sacrament under a canopy. Tapestries from the reign of Louis XIV were used to make the altars of reposition throughout the town, and the entire court would stop at each place for Benediction. On the feast of Corpus Christi, following his succession to the kingship, Louis and Antoinette and other members of the Royal family mingled with the citizens of Chaillot in a Eucharistic procession, the first of many Eucharistic processions of their reign. A year later, after his coronation, Louis and Antoinette led a Fête Dieu procession in the city of Rheims. Their last Eucharistic procession at Versailles occurred on May 4, 1789, on the occasion of the opening the Estates-General.
August 15 was the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the patronal feast day of the Kingdon of France, since France had been dedicated by Louis XIII to the Mother of Jesus in 1637. Along with the dedication went the Vow of Louis XIII for every parish to have a procession in honor of the Mother of God on Assumption Day. Louis XIII had made the vow as a prayer to God for an heir, and the future Louis XIV was born to him and his Queen, Anne of Austria, on September 5, 1638 after twenty-three years of marriage. The Assumption was also the official fête for the Queens of France, since most, if not all, bore the name “Marie” somewhere in their name. A solemn Mass would be offered in the royal chapel; the King and Queen would process with their entire households to the chapel. They processed to Mass e
veryday but the procession on the Assumption included the entire Royal Family and all their attendants. Everyone was dressed in their finest array; it was a glorious sight for which many people came from far away to watch. On August 15, 1785, as the procession was lining up to begin, Louis and Antoinette discovered the criminal charade of the Diamond Necklace, never imagining it would precipitate the greatest upheaval in the history of France.
November 1 was All Saints Day or La Toussaint, followed by All Souls Day on November 2, which happened to be Antoinette’s birthday. La Toussaint was a holiday: all businesses were closed, and French families would visit the graves of departed loved ones with large bouquets of chrysanthemums. At Versailles, La Toussaint was another traditional day for the King to touch the sick, who would be allowed into the château to kneel in the gallery as the King came in procession after receiving Holy Communion.18 It was customary in France to set a place at the table in honor of those relatives who had gone before, as well as lighting candles for them in church, and most of all, enrolling their names in Masses for the faithful departed. Because All Souls was kept in a solemn, subdued manner, Antoinette’s birthday was usually celebrated on November 1. In 1776, All Saints Day was the occasion of the three day card party in honor of Antoinette’s birthday, held in Princesse de Lamballes’s quarters. Unfortunately, it opened her up to a great deal of gossip, and made many people question her respectability. On All Souls Day, people went to church and to cemeteries and crypts to pray for the dead and gain the All Souls indulgence for those in purgatory. Thus the liturgical year ended on a serious note which looked towards the last things.
14 The Children of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette
Marlbrouk s'en va-t-en guerre,
Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,
Marlbrough s'en va-t-en guerre,
Ne sait quand reviendra.
Ne sait quand reviendra.
— “Marlbrouk s'en va-t-en guerre”
Antoinette had a great love for children. As a young girl, she asked her ladies and servants to bring their children with them when in attendance upon her; hence the scene in her apartments was a bit chaotic with all the little ones running about, not to mention all the dogs. Even as King and Queen, both Louis and Antoinette were often accompanied by a train of assorted youngsters as they went about their day at Versailles; the kindness they each showed to the children who lived at Versailles was reciprocated with love. Before her children were born, Antoinette adopted an orphaned peasant child, named François Michel Gagné, but he was called “Jacques” by his grandmother and several brothers and sisters. The Queen called him “Armand” and she reared Armand as her own son, providing for his entire family, including music lessons for one of his brothers. It was difficult for Armand when the Queen had her own children, as well as adopting others, since he was no longer the center of all her attention. As a teenager, he rebelled, joined the Revolution and was killed in the wars. Meanwhile, around 1787, Antoinette adopted the daughter of servants named Marie-Philippine Lambriquet, whom she called “Ernestine,” to be a companion for her daughter Madame Royale. She dressed her as a princess and gave her all the same toys as her own daughter. Ernestine was referred to as “the girl who is always with Madame Royale” and Antoinette said during the Revolution: “What will become of us is uncertain…but never forget that Ernestine is my daughter.” She added that she and Ernestine would “love each other for eternity.”1 Even the governess Madame de Polignac treated her as if she were another royal child.2 It gave rise to the rumor that Ernestine was really a bastard daughter of Louis XVI by a serving maid, but most biographers of Louis completely discount it. Around 1790, when they were under house arrest at the Tuileries in Paris, Antoinette adopted three orphan girls whose parents, who had been servants in the King’s household, died within months of each other. The two oldest were sent to a Visitation convent to be educated but the youngest, Jeanne Louise Victoire, called “Zoé,” who was the same age as the little Dauphin Louis-Charles, lived in the royal apartments at the Tuileries. Antoinette would have adopted many more children had she been able. Those whom she could not actually bring to live in the palace, she provided for generously.
At the time of the Royal Family’s disastrous flight to Montmédy in June 1791, Antoinette sent Ernestine and Zoé to safety. Ernestine was entrusted to her birth father. Zoé joined her blood sisters at the Visitation Monastery, where she eventually became a nun and died in 1814 at the beginning of the Restoration. During the violence of the Terror, Antoinette, in the Temple prison, was anxious for news about her adopted children and tried to discover where they were. She managed to find out that Zoé and her two sisters had been taken to their relatives in the country. Of Ernestine, she could discover nothing, except that her father had been guillotined. Ernestine had actually been whisked out of France by an emigré family and died in exile.
Most people are unaware that the Queen adopted a young African boy and had him brought up at Versailles. In 1787, the famous traveler Chevalier de Boufflers, who had recently returned from Senegal, presented Antoinette with a three year old Senegalese boy. Antoinette had him baptised and renamed Jean Amilcar, and saw to it that he was well-cared for in her household under the supervision of her page, Jean Müller.3 When the Royal Family was moved to the Tuileries Palace in Paris in October 1789, Jean Amilcar was placed in the care of a tutor, Quentin Beldon; Antoinette sent monthly payments to provide for his upkeep. When she was moved from the Tuileries to the Temple prison in August 1792, she was unable to keep up the payments. For several months, he and his tutor were destitute amid the turmoil of the Reign of Terror. When Beldon found work, he paid for Jean Amilcar’s education at the prestigious École Liancourt at Saint-Cloud, where there were other children of African descent. At school, Jean studied painting. However, he died at age fourteen in 1796, probably of malnutrition.4
On December 19, 1778, Louis and Antoinette, after eight years of marriage, were finally blessed with a child of their own. No longer awkard teenagers, they were aged twenty-four and twenty-three respectively; the Queen’s menstrual cycle, referred to by her mother as la Générale Krottendorf, had finally become regular. Antoinette certainly was better prepared psychologically and physically for motherhood than when she was first married. Nevertheless, the Queen had a long, difficult labor which she had to endure in public, with courtiers standing on chairs to see her pain, and the crowd so dense that she almost suffocated. Louis famously tore open the windows of her bedroom to give her air. Antoinette suffered some gynecological damage during the birthing process, which resulted in severe hemorrhaging. We do not know how permanent the damage was and if it caused discomfort in her marital relations and future preganancies. Empress Maria Theresa was convinced that someone had injured the Queen on purpose, to keep her from having more children.5
It was with great joy that they welcomed Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte. The baby was baptized immediately and given the title Madame la Fille du Roi which by age five had become Madame Royale. She was named after her maternal grandmother the Empress, who was also her godmother. She was called “Charlotte” after Antoinette’s favorite sister, Maria Carolina, the Queen of Naples, as well as her godfather, Charles III, the King of Spain. Louis’ brother the Comte de Provence stood in for Charles III at the baptism, and caused a stir when he loudly inquired who was the father of little Marie-Thérèse. At the time, it may have been seen as a moment of jest. However, it was around that time that the rumors began that Antoinette’s children were fathered by men other than the King. Marie-Thérèse herself soon gave lie to the rumors as she so closely resembled her Papa in more ways than one.
Louis and Antoinette had become a devoted couple, ready for their parental duties. Louis’ manners and appearance had improved. As King, no doubt due to Antoinette’s influence, he had two tubs of which he made daily use, one for washing and one for rinsing. Their relationship deepened following the birth of their Madame Royale. When the Queen came down with measles, she s
ecluded herself at Petit Trianon. Louis, missing her, came one evening to the Trianon and stood under her window as she leaned out, whispering his devotion into the night. No one else ever knew what was said, except the Queen, who sent back her own words of tenderness.6
In the meantime, Antoinette greeted her baby with the words: “Poor little one, you are not what was desired, but you will be none the less dear to me! A son would have belonged to the state—you will belong to me!”7 The baby soon became a lovely little girl, with blonde curls and blue eyes accompanied by a quiet but forceful personality. Her governess was the Princesse de Guéménée, who had brought up her aunt Madame Élisabeth, although the person who supervised her care the most was the Alsatian sub-governess, Madame de Mackau. Madame de Mackau had also taken care of Madame Élisabeth and her daughter, the Marquise de Bombelles, was Élisabeth’s closest friend. Rose Bertin described the tiny Madame Royale as being always une grande dame, bien grande dame and never a child.8 By age four, the little girl’s serious expression gained for her the nickname Mousseline la sérieuse from her Uncle Artois, who would someday be her father-in-law. Antoinette’s greatest fear for her child was that she would be spoiled, and so she was firm with her during childish tantrums.
At four years old, Marie-Thérèse went through a stage where she discovered she made a huge sensation in the adult world when she expressed dislike of her mother. The Marquis de Bombelles recorded in his journal how, when told by Abbé Vermond that the Queen had fallen from her horse and could have died, Madame Royale said that it would please her because then her mother would no longer keep her from doing whatever she liked. The outspoken toddler went on to say how she liked her papa better than her mother because her papa always held her hand whereas her mother made her walk behind. No doubt the Queen was trying to teach her daughter about precedence, which governed court life. During the course of the Madame Royale’s outrageous speech, Antoinette ran in tears to her friend Madame de Polignac, who surely explained that the little one did not know what she was saying, but merely enjoyed the attention she was receiving.9 Some authors have taken the incident to indicate a deep, lasting dislike of Madame Royale for her mother, as well as an irreparable character flaw in the little princess. Those of us who have had dealings with the realm of toddlerhood are aware of the potential for socially unacceptable conduct and know not to take certain behaviors too seriously. Madame Royale grew up accompanying her mother everywhere; her lessons were overseen by the Queen herself. The care for the poor which Antoinette showed her by example was to become one of the hallmarks of the princess’ adult life. The few occasions the child was sick, Antoinette hardly left her side. There can be no doubt, however, that Marie-Thérèse especially adored her father, as was evident to the court when Louis returned from a trip in June of 1786, and the princess dragged her two little brothers onto a balcony shouting: “Papa! Papa!” The King leaped out of his coach and ran up the stairs to them.10 There are few kings who so completely loved and enjoyed their children as much as did Louis XVI. He tried to make time for them every day, helping with their lessons and telling them stories at bedtime.
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