The Queen`s Confession

by Виктория Холт

  It was soon after Father’s death that I began to hear talk of “The French Marriage.” Couriers were constantly going j back and forth with letters between Kaunitz and my mother and my mother’s ambassador in France. ;

  Kaunitz was the most important man in Austria. A dandy, The was nevertheless one of the shrewdest politicians in Europe and my mother thought very highly of him and trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. Before he became her j chief adviser he had been her ambassador at Versailles, where he had become a great friend of Madame de Pormpadour which had meant that he was well received by the King of France, and it was while he was in Paris that he had conceived the idea of an alliance between Austria and France which would be through a marriage between a the houses of Hapsburg and Bourbon. Living in France had given him the manners of a Frenchman, and as he also dressed like one, in Austria he was considered rather eccentric. But he was very much a German in some ways-calm, disciplined and precise. Ferdinand told us that he osed egg yolks for his complexion, smearing them over his face to keep his skin fresh; and to preserve his teeth he used to clean them with a sponge and a scraper after every meal—at the table. He was so determined that his wig should be powdered all over that he ordered his valets to form two rows between which he walked while they used their bellows. He was enveloped in a cloud of powder, but this ensured that his wig was evenly powdered.

  We used to laugh at him. I did not realise then that while we were laughing together about his odd habits, he was deciding -my future, and but for him I should not be where I am at this moment. Caroline discovered that there was a possibility that either I she or I might marry the King of France, which set us I giggling at the incongruity of this, for he was an old man nearly sixty and we thought it would be funny to have a husband who was older than our mother. But when the

  Dauphin of France—the son of that King who might have been a husband to one of us died and his son became Dauphin, there was great excitement because the new Dauphin was only a boy, about a year older than I was.

  Sometimes Caroline and I talked about “The French Marriage and then we would forget about it for weeks; but all the time we were growing farther and farther away from childhood. Ferdinand tried seriously to discuss it with us how good it would be for Austria if there was an alliance between Hapsburg and Bourbon.

  The widow of the recently dead Dauphin, who had great influence with the King, was against it and wanted a princess from her own House to marry her son; but she died suddenly of consumption, which she had probably caught when nursing her husband, and my mother was very pleased.

  My brother Joseph’s poor unhappy wife died of the small pox, and my sister Maria Josepha, who was four years older than I, caught it and died. She was on the point of going to Naples to marry the King and our mother decided that an alliance with Naples was necessary so Caroline should be the bride instead.

  This was the biggest tragedy of all so far. I had loved my father and had been sad, in my way, when he had died, but Caroline had been my constant companion and I could not imagine what it would be like without her. Caroline, who felt everything more deeply than I, was heartbroken.

  I was twelve; Caroline was fifteen; and as Caroline had been selected for Naples, my mother at this time decided to train me to be ready to go to France. She announced that I should no longer be called Antonia.

  I should be Antoinette or Marie Antoinette. That in itself made me seem like a different person. I was now brought into my mother’s salon and made to answer the questions important men put to me; I had to have the right answers and was primed beforehand, but it was so easy for me to forget.

  The comfortable life was over. I was watched; I was talked about; and I fancied that my mother and her ministers were trying to represent me as a very different person from the one I was rather the person they wanted me to be, or the French would like me to be. I was always hearing stories about my goodness, my charm and cleverness which astonished I me. When I was younger, Mozart the musician had come to the Court; be was only a child then, but brilliant, and my mother was encouraging him. When he came into the great salon to play to the company he was so overawed that he slipped. and fell and everyone laughed. But I ran out to see if he was hurt and to tell him that it did not matter, and after that we became friends and he played for me specially. He said once that he would like to marry me, and as I thought that would be pleasant, I agreed to his proposal. This was I remembered and told about me. It was supposed to be one of the ‘charming’ stories. On one occasion my mother told me that the French Ambassador would probably talk to me when I visited her salon and if he were to ask me which nation I should most I like to rule I must say “The French’; and if he were to ask why, I was to reply: “Because they had Henri Quatre the Good and Louis Quatorze the Great.” I learned it off by heart and was afraid I should get it wrong because I was not very sure who these people were; but I managed it and that was another story which was told about me. I was supposed to learn about the French; I was to practise speaking French; everything was changing.

  As for Caroline, she was always weeping and was no longer the pleasant companion she had been. She was very frightened of marriage and knew she was going to hate the King of Naples.

  Our mother came to the schoolroom and talked to her very severely.

  You are no longer a child she said, ‘and I have heard ( that you have been very bad-tempered. ” :

  I wanted to explain that Caroline was only bad-tempered because she was frightened; but it was impossible to explain to my mother.

  Then she looked at me and went on: “I am going to separate you from Antoinette. You spend your time in stupid chattering and there is to be no more of this useless gossip. It will stop at once. I warn you that you will be watched, and you, Caroline, as the elder, will be held responsible.”

  Then my mother dismissed me and kept Caroline there to lecture her further on how she should behave.

  I went away with a heavy heart. I should miss Caroline so much.

  Strangely enough I did not think of my own fate. France was too far off to be real, and I had perfected my natural inclination to forget what it was not pleasant to remember.

  Caroline left at last pale-faced, silent and not in the least like my gay little sister. Joseph accompanied her and I believe he was quite sorry for her; there was something good about Joseph although he was so haughty and pompous.

  There was trouble with another of my sisters, but this seemed more remote, for Maria Amalia was nine years older than I was. Caroline and I had known for a long time that she was in love with a young man of the Court, Prince Zweibriicken, and hoped that she would be able to marry him, which was perhaps foolish of her, for she should have known that we had to marry Heads of States for the good of Austria. But Maria Amalia was like me in that she was apt to believe what she wanted to, so she went on believing that she would be allowed to marry Prince Zweibriicken.

  Caroline’s fears were fully realised. She was very unhappy in Naples and wrote home that her husband was very ugly, but because she remembered what my mother had told her she tried to be brave, and added that she was growing quite accustomed to him. She wrote to Countess von Lerchenfeld, who helped Aja as governess:

  “One suffers martyrdom, and it is all the greater because one must pretend to be happy. How I pity Antoinette who has to face this. I would rather die than suffer it again. But for my religion I should have killed myself rather than live as I did for eight days. It was like hell and I wished to die. When my little sister has to face this I shall weep for. her.”

  The Countess had not wanted to show me this, but I begged and pleaded and she gave way as she always did; and when I read it I wished I hadn’t. Was it really so bad? My sister-in-law Isabella had talked about killing herself. I, who loved life so much, could not understand this attitude; yet it seemed strange that those two who had had so much more experience of life than I should both have talked like that.

  I thought about Carolin
e’s letter for some hours and then it slipped to the back of my mind and I forgot it perhaps because my mother was now turning her attention more and more on me.

  She came to the schoolroom to investigate my progress and was horrified when she realised how little I knew. My handwriting was untidy and laborious. As for speaking French, I was hopeless, although I could chatter in Italian; but I could not write even German really grammatically.

  My mother was not angry with me; she was merely pained. She drew me to her, held me in the crook of her arm and explained to me about the great honour which might be done to me. It would be the most wonderful thing in the world if this plan which Prince von Kaunitz here in Vienna and the Due de Choiseui in France were trying to work out could come to fruition. It was the first time I had heard the Due de Choiseul’s name mentioned and I asked my mother who he was. She told me that he was a brilliant statesman, adviser to the King of France and, most important of all, A Friend to Austria. So much depended on him and we must do nothing to offend him. What he would say if he knew what a little ignoramus I was, she could not imagine. The whole plan would prob ably founder.

  She looked at me so severely that I was momentarily down cast. It seemed such a great responsibility; then I felt my mouth turning up at the corners because I could not believe I was all that important. And as I laughed I saw that my mother was trying not to smile, so I put my arms about her neck and said I was sure Monsieur de Choiseui would not mind very much that I was not clever.

  She held me tightly against her, and then, putting me from her, looked severe again. She told me about the mighty Sun King who had built

  Versailles which, she said, was the greatest palace in the world, and die French Court was the moat cultured and elegant, and that I was the luckiest girl in the world to have a chance of going there. I listened for a while to her accounts of the wonderful gar dens and the beautiful salons which were far more splendid than anything we had in Vienna, but soon, although I was nodding and smiling, I was not really listening.

  I suddenly realised that she was saying my governesses were not suitable and I must have other teachers. She wanted me, in a few months’ time, to be talking in French, thinking in French, so that it would be as though I were French.

  “But never forget that you are a good German.”

  I nodded, smiling.

  But you must speak good French. Monsieur de Choiseui writes that the King of France has a very sensitive ear for the French language, and that you should have an accent of grace and purity which will not offend aim. You under stand? “

  Yes, Mamma. “

  “So you will have to work very very hard.”

  “Oh yes. Mamma.”

  “Antoinette, are you listening?”

  “Oh yes. Mamma.” I smiled widely to show her I was taking in every word and giving it serious consideration at least as serious as I was able to manage. She sighed. I knew she was concerned for me, but she was for less severe with me than she had been with Caroline.

  ‘now there is a theatrical company in Vienna a FmicA theatrical company, and I have commanded that two actors shall come here and teach you to speak French as they do at the French Court, and French manners and customs. “

  “Actors I’ I cried ecstatically, thinking of the fun we used to have during winters in the Hofburg when my elder brothers and sisters acted plays and danced ballets and sang in opera. Caroline, Ferdinand, Max and I were only allowed to watch, being, as our elder sisters and brothers told us, too young to take part. But how I had longed to!

  When I had a chance I would leap on to the stage and dance, until they

  turned me off with the constant cry of: “Go away, Antonia. You are too young to play in this. You must watch.” If it was a play or a ballet I could scarcely stop myself from joining in, in spite of them. I loved dancing more than anything. So when my mother told me actors were coming I was excited.

  They are not here to play with you, Antoinette,” she said severely.

  “They will be here to teach you French. You j must study hard.

  Monsieur Aufresne will advise you on your pronunciation and Monsieur Sainville will take you in French singing. “

  “Yes, Mamma.” My mind was far away on the amateur stages when Maria Christina was so angry because she was not the heroine of the play, or Maria Amalia was watching the Prince Zweibriicken all the time she was saying her lines; and Max and I were Jumping up and down in our seats with excitement.

  “And Monsieur Noverre will come to teach you to dance

  Oh . Mamma! “

  “You have never heard of Monsieur Noverre, but he is the finest dancing master in Europe.”

  “I shall love him I’ I cried.

  “You must not be so impulsive, my child. Think before you speak. One does not love a dancing master. But you should be grateful that you have the finest teacher in Europe and you must follow his instructions That was a happy time. It helped me to stop thinking of poor Caroline in Naples and that other family crisis when Maria Amalia was sent off to Parma to marry Isabella’s brother. She was twenty-three and he was only a boy not much more than fourteen and Maria Amalia had to say goodbye to the Prince Zweibriicken. She was not meek like Caroline; she stormed and raged, and I thought she was going to do what no one had dared do before defy my mother. But she went, because it was good for Austria, and we continued our alliance with Parma, so stormy Maria Amalia had this little boy for a husband while Caroline who was only fifteen had the old man from Naples.

  But so much was happening to me that I had only time to think of what was expected of me. My mother was in despair because I could not learn. My actor teachers never forced me to study; and when I spoke French—as I was obliged to all the time—they would smile tenderly and say:

  It is charming, charming, Madame Antoinette. Not French, but charming I’ Then we would all laugh together, so the lessons were not unpleasant. But what I enjoyed most were the dancing lessons. Noverre was delighted with me. I could learn the steps easily and he would applaud me almost ecstatically. Sometimes I made a false step and he would stop me and then cry: “No. We will leave it just like that. It is more charming the way you do it.” My teachers were all so kind.

  They were constantly paying compliments and never scolding and I thought the French must be the most delightful people in the world.

  My complacency did not last. I was closely watched and the Marquis de Durfort, the French Ambassador at our Court, reported everything to Versailles, so it was soon known there that I was being taught by Monsieur Aufresne and Monsieur Sainville. The Dauphine of France to be taught by strolling players! That was unthinkable. Monsieur de Choiseui would see that a suitable tutor was sent without delay. I had my lessons one day and the next my friends were gone. I felt very sad for a while; but I was growing accustomed to having people to whom I had become familiar suddenly whisked away from me.

  My mother sent for me and told me that Monsieur de Choiseui was sending me a new tutor. I must forget my old ones and never mention them. I was being greatly honoured because the Bishop of Orleans had found a French tutor for me. He was the Abbe Vermond.

  I grimaced. An Abbe was going to be very different from my gay actors.

  My mother pretended not to see the grimace and gave me one of those homilies about the importance of learning the language and customs of my new country. I was not looking forward to the arrival of the Abbe Vermond.

  I need not have worried, because from the moment I saw him I knew that I could cajole him as I had my governesses; and when I was young I had an insight into character which was astonishing in one of my superficial nature. I do not mean that I could probe deeply into the motives of those about me. If I had been blessed with that quality I might have saved myself a good deal of trouble; but I could see little quirks of behaviour which I could reproduce rather amusingly (I think I could have been a tolerably good actress) and this enabled me to get what I wanted from people. Most of my sisters and brothers wer
e cleverer than I, but they did not know how to lure my mother from a scolding mood to one of affection, as I did. It may have been because of my childishness, my innocence as they called it; and then, of course, my appearance helped. I was small and fairy-like; in fact the French Ambassador, who was constantly commenting on my appearance to his masters at Versailles, referred to me as ‘a dainty morsel. ” But I don’t think it was entirely this. I do believe that I could, in an extremely superficial way, of course, assess those little traits of character which would enable me to know how far I could go in my dealings with a person. So as soon as I saw the Abbe Vermond I was relieved.

  He was learned, naturally, so he was going to be appalled by my ignorance; and he was. What could I do? I could speak Italian and French after a fashion with a great many German expressions to help me along; my handwriting was disgraceful; I knew little of history and nothing of French literature, which Monsieur de Choiseui had said was so necessary. I could sing fairly well; I loved music; and I could dance ‘comme un ange,” as Noverre had said. I also had been an Archduchess from my birth and when I was in my mother’s salon I seemed to know instinctively which people I should speak to and to whom I should merely incline my head. This was inherent. It was true that in the privacy of my own apartments I was sometimes too familiar with my servants and if any of them had any young children I liked to play with them, for I adored children, and when Caroline had said that marriage was hateful I did remind her that marriage meant having children and it must be worth a lot of discomfort to have them.

  Although I was more friendly with the servants than the rest of my family were, because I had this inherent royal demeanour, they rarely took advantage of it. My mother was aware of it, and I believe she thought it better not to try to change it.