The Queen`s Confession

by Виктория Холт

  When the reception in the Galerie des Glaces was over we went for supper to the new opera house which the King had had built to celebrate my arrival in France. As we crossed to the opera house the Swiss Guards, splendid in starched ruffs and plumed caps, together with the bodyguards, equally colourful in their silver-braided coats, red breeches and stockings, made a guard for us.

  The real function of this beautiful opera house had been of disguised.

  A false floor had been set up to cover the seats, and on this was a table decorated with flowers and gleaming glass. With great ceremony we took our places: the King at the head of the table, myself on one side of him, my husband on the other, and next to me and for this I was thankful my mischievous younger brother-in-law, the Comte d’Artois, who was very attentive to me and proclaimed him-J self to be my squire, implying in his outrageous way that he would uphold the honour of France in the place of the Dauphin at any rime I wished! He was bold, but I had liked him from the moment we met.

  On the other side of Artois was Madame Adelaide, clearly revelling in an occasion like this, keeping an eye on her sisters—Sophie next to her, Victoire opposite, next to Clothilde—and trying to talk to me over Artois, her sharp eyes everywhere. She hoped that she and I would be able to talk together in her apartments, intimately. It was imperative. Artois, listening, raised his eyebrows to me when Adelaide could not see, and I felt that we were allies. At the extreme end of the table—for she was of the lowest rank of the twenty-one members of the royal family—was the young woman who had interested me so much when I had first been presented to my new relations: the Princesse de Lamballe. She smiled at me very charmingly and I felt that with her and the King and my new champion Artois as my friends I need not be apprehensive about my future.

  I was far too excited to eat, but I noticed that my husband had a good appetite. I had never known anyone who could appear so oblivious of his surroundings. While the King’s Meat (as the numerous dishes were called) was being brought in with the utmost ceremony he might have been sitting alone, for his one interest was the food, on which he fell as though he had just returned from a hard day’s hunting.

  Noticing his grandson’s voracious appetite the King said to him quite audibly: “You are eating too heartily. Berry. You should not overload your stomach tonight of all nights.”

  My husband spoke then, and everyone listened—I suppose because they heard his voice so rarely.

  “I always sleep better after a good supper,” he said.

  I was aware of Artois beside me suppressing his amusement, and many of the guests seemed suddenly intent on their plates; others had turned and were in deep conversation with then-neighbours, faces turned away from the head of the table.

  The King looked at me rather sadly; then he began to talk over the Dauphin to the Comte de Provence.

  The next part of the proceedings was so embarrassing that even now I do not care to think about it. The night had come. When I looked across the table and caught my husband’s eye he looked uneasy and turned away. I knew then that he was as disturbed as I was. I was aware of what was expected of me that night, and although I did not look for ward to it with any great pleasure, I was certain that, how ever distasteful it was, the result of what would happen would give me my dearest wish. I should have a child and any discomfort was worthwhile if I could become a mother.

  Back to the Palace we went and the ceremony of putting the bride and groom to bed began. The Duchess de dart res the married lady of highest rank, handed me my nightgown; and I was led to the bedchamber where my husband, who had been helped into his nightshirt by the King, was waiting for me. We sat up in bed side by side, and all the time my husband had not looked at me. I was not sure whether he thought the whole affair incredibly silly or was just sleepy after all the food he had eaten.

  The curtains were drawn back so that everyone could see us and the Archbishop of Rheims as he blessed the bed and sprinkled it with holy water. We must have appeared to be a strange little couple both so young, little more than children: myself flushed and apprehensive, my husband bored. In truth we were two frightened children.

  The King smiled at me wistfully as though he longed to be in the Dauphin’s place, and then turned away to leave us together. Everyone bowed and followed him out and my attendants drew the bed curtains shutting me in alone with my bridegroom.

  We lay in bed looking at the hangings. I felt lonely shut in with a stranger. He did not attempt to touch me; he did not even speak to me. There I lay listening to my heartbeats or were they his waiting . waiting.

  This was what all the fuss of preparation had been about the solemn ceremony in the chapel, the glittering banquet, the public’s peepshow. I was to be the mother of the Enfants de France; from my activities in this bed I was to produce the future King of France.

  But nothing happened . nothing. I lay awake. It must be soon, I said to myself; but still I lay and so did he . in silence, making no move to touch me, speaking no word.

  After a long while I could tell by his breathing that he was asleep.

  I was bewildered, and, in a way, disappointed. I know now that he suffered even as I did. The next day he wrote one word in his journal. It was “Rien.”

  Omens

  In consequence of the fire in the Place Louis XV which occurred at the time of the nuptial celebrations, the Dauphin and Dauphine sent the whole of their incomes for a year to the relief of the unfortunate families who lost their relatives on that disastrous day.

  MADAME CAMPAN MEMOIRS

  I am not sure now when I began to understand that nothing was as I had first believed it to be. The frivolous young girl I was, knowing little of life, formed quick conclusions from what she saw on the surface without understanding, not realising that her new countrymen, with their love of etiquette, their determination to preserve exquisite manners in all circumstances, were adepts at deception.

  I had believed that my husband and I would be lovers, that we would wander hand in hand through the splendid gardens of Versailles, that I would be gloriously happy, and before a year of marriage had passed, would have my own little son, who would give me far more pleasure than all my little dogs put together. But I had a husband who was apparently indifferent to me.

  I was bewildered; and everyone was watching us slyly, almost furtively: the King with detached resignation, the aunts with hysterical excitement, my brothers-in-law with suppressed amusement; but Mercy, Starhemburg and the Abbe Vermond were deeply concerned.

  Something was wrong. The Dauphin did not like me—and I was to blame.

  This did not occur to me during the first days. All I knew was that marriage was not what I had believed it would be. The day after that of the wedding was full of ceremonies and I had little time for thought as I was hustled from one to another. In the evening an opera was performed in the new opera house. It was Perseus, which might have been tolerable if someone had not tried to modernise it by inserting a new ballet.

  Everything went wrong. The producer broke his leg at the dress rehearsal and was on a stretcher the whole evening None of the properties on the stage worked as they should. In compliment to me it had been arranged that a great Eagle the symbol of my House should be set high above the altar of Hymen, and this, instead of remaining perched high above the altar, slumped on to it. Perseus slipped and fell at the feet of Andromeda at the very moment of rescue. The only interesting moments were those of disaster and the producer had to be prevented from killing himself.

  I was so bored by this performance that I kept yawning, and I knew that I was being closely watched, so I wondered in alarm whether my conduct would be reported to my mother. I was sure it would be.

  I went to bed with my husband and it was exactly the same as the night before only this time I did not lie awake, being too tired out from the previous wakeful night and the boredom of Perseus.

  When I awoke I was alone in the bed. I learned that my husband had risen as soon as it was light to go hunt
ing. Everyone knew this and thought it strange that he should prefer to hunt rather than be with me since we were so newly married.

  When he came home from hunting he spoke to me, and as he did so so rarely I remember his words and the tone in which he spoke them.

  It was simply and coolly: “Have you slept well I answered: Yes.”

  Then he gave me a brief half-smile and turned away.

  The Abbe Vermond, who was with me, looked very grave, so I picked up one of the two little dogs which had been given to me on my arrival in France and started to play with him; but when I heard the Abbe murmur “It wrings my heart!” I could no longer doubt that there was something very wrong. I, whom everyone had said was so pretty and dainty, had failed to attract the Dauphin. He could not love me.

  Comte Florimond Claude de Mercy-Argenteau came to see me and asked a great many embarrassing questions. Ever since I had left my mother he had been hovering about me. My mother had said I was to trust him in everything, that I was to listen to his advice, that he would be the bridge which kept us together. I was sure she was right, but he was so old and stem a small man, rather bent, and I was sure very clever; but I was uneasy to be so obviously spied on,” for one never really likes spies however worthy and for whatever cause they spy.

  He was Belgian, coming from Liege, and he seemed to have something akin to the French; but he was entirely my mother’s servant. His one thought, I am sure, was to carry out the mission she had set for him, and I was all the more uneasy because I was fully aware of his efficiency. He had worked under Kaunhz and I believed I might just as well have had the latter at my elbow continually as Mercy was to be. during the next years.

  He asked questions in a roundabout way, but I knew exactly what he was trying to discover; he wanted to know what had taken place in the bed which I shared with my husband when we had been left to ourselves.

  I told him that I believed my husband was indifferent to me. He did not touch me; he seemed to want to sleep as soon as he was in bed; and this morning he had risen long before I was awake to go hunting.

  “You will be thinking that this is strange behaviour for a bridegroom,” he said gravely.

  I agreed that I did although I was not sure what I should have expected from a husband.

  “I have studied medicine,” he went on, ‘and I believe the Dauphin’s development to be late because his constitution has been weakened by his sudden and rapid growth. “

  So that was it! I had not liked the Due de la Vauguyon, who had been my husband’s tutor and who, I had noticed, had great influence with him. Without thinking, I burst out:

  “My husband’s timidity and coldness is due to the kind of education he has received. I am sure the Dauphin has a good disposition, but I believe Monsieur de la Vauguyon has led him by habit and fear….”

  I stopped. I was trying to find a reason for my husband’s coolness towards me other than the fact that I did not appeal to him.

  Mercy looked at me coldly. He had a penetrating stare which made me uncomfortable.

  “I am sure the Empress will be most uneasy when she knows of this state of affairs. I will tell her that it is early yet and I will give her my opinion of what ails the Dauphin.”

  I pictured my mother at home in Schonbrunn, and shivered, for she had the power to overawe me even at that distance. I knew I was failing her, for she would be waiting to hear news of my pregnancy as soon as possible. Yet how could I become pregnant when my husband ignored me I Mercy changed the subject and told me that I must be more discreet in my behaviour towards the King. Did I not feel that I was being too free and easy? I replied that there was no doubt that the King liked me. He was not cold. He had said that he loved me from the moment I came, that the whole family was enchanted with me.

  Mercy replied: I will tell you that the King of France has written to your mother.

  “I find the Dauphine lively, though very cb’lth But she is young and doubtless will grow out of this” “

  I felt my face flush scarlet. I did blush easily. So . he had said that after all the charming things he had whispered to me, all the caresses, all the compliments!

  Mercy smiled at my discomfiture, and the implication was that it was good for me to feel foolish for it was the only way in which I could learn the lessons which it was so important for me to master.

  He left me depressed. My husband did not like me; nor did the King;

  the only difference was that one made a secret of his true feelings and the other did not.

  I had a great deal to learn.

  The aunts had been kind to me; they had implied they wanted to be my friends, so when I had an invitation to visit Madame Adelaide during that day I gladly accepted it.

  When I reached her apartment she embraced me warmly;

  then she held me at arms’ length and said: “Berry’s wife !’ and went off into titters of laughter. She said: ” I will summon Victoire, whose apartments adjoin these; she will send for Sophie and we will have a cosy party . the four of us, eh? “

  I noticed a young woman sitting at a small table, a book before her. I smiled at her. I thought her extremely dowdy yet I took an immediate liking to her. Seeing herself noticed she immediately rose and dropped a curtsy, flushing a little.

  “This is our lectrice Jeanne Louise Hendette Genet,” said Madame Adelaide.

  “She is a good reader and we are pleased with her.”

  I told her to sit down, and realised immediately that perhaps I was wrong either to speak to her or to give that permission. I should never straighten out this complicated etiquette. At least at the moment Adelaide was friendly enough to overlook it. Victoire arrived.

  “Did you ring for Sophie?” asked Adelaide.

  “Yes, before leaving,” her sister replied.

  Adelaide bowed her head. Then she turned haughtily to the young lectrice and told her that she had permission to retire; the young woman slipped out as quietly as a mouse in fact she reminded me of a mouse, small, grey and timid.

  But I had no time to think of her, for Sophie had arrived.

  “Berry’s wife is here,” said Adelaide, and Sophie forced herself to look at me. I smiled, and going to her, kissed her. I hated doing it, because she was so ugly; she did not return my kiss but stood with her hands hanging down at her sides and her gaze turned away from me.

  Adelaide laughed a loud braying laugh and said she thought they might sit, although in the presence of the Dauphine; at which I laughed;

  then Adelaide laughed; Vie to ire looked at her sister and joined in; and when Adelaide nudged Sophie she laughed too. It was rather horrible laughter and in view of what Mercy had told me of the King of France I felt uneasy.

  “So,” said Adelaide, ‘you arc Berry’s wife. A strange boy, Berry. ” She nodded her head and watched her sisters, who nodded with her and tried to ape her expression—poor Sophie always coming in late.

  “Not like other boys,” went on Adelaide slowly, putting her mouth close to my ear.

  I looked startled and all the sisters started to nod again.

  “He has a good appetite,” said Victoire.

  Adelaide laughed.

  “She thinks that a point in his favour. You should see her eat. She has the Bourbon appetite.”

  “But I cannot abide pastry crust,” Victoire put in conspiratorially.

  “All she thinks of is sitting in her armchair and eating.”

  “I like my comforts,” Victoire admitted.

  Sophie looked at her sisters as though marvelling at this brilliant conversation, I liked them. They were dears, I thought, though simple.

  I was looking for friends on that day.

  “Poor Berry! He never laughed and played tricks,” said Adelaide.

  “Like Artois!” added Victoire.

  “That boy !’ Adelaide was indulgent. She whispered: ” He has a mistress already. At his age! Fancy! “

  “He is very young,” I agreed.

  “Now, Berry….” Sh
e looked at Victoire and they began to laugh.

  Sophie was some time before she joined in.

  “He was never interested in the girls.”

  “He likes his food, though.” Victoire was kindly putting in a good word for him.

  Adelaide looked impatiently at her sister and Victoire was alarmed.

  Adelaide went on: “When he came to see me as a little boy I would say to him: ” Come, Berry. Here you can be at your ease. Talk. Shout. Make a noise. My poor Berry, I give you carte blanche”.”

  “And did he?” I asked.

  Adelaide shook her head and they stood there like three wise monkeys all shaking their heads.

  “He was not like other boys,” went on Adelaide mournfully; then her eyes gleamed mischievously.

  “But now he is a husband.

  Is he a husband, Madame la Dauphine? “

  She laughed shrilly and the others joined in. I said with dignity:

  “Yes, he is my husband.”

  “I hope he is a good husband,” said Adelaide.

  I think he is a good husband. “

  Victoire began to laugh, but she was silenced with a look from her sister, who decided to change the subject.

  “What did you think of the stranger who came to supper at the Chateau de la Muette?”

  “Oh … the beautiful woman with the blue eyes …”

  And the lisp. “

  I thought she was charming Victoire and Sophie were looking to Adelaide for their cue. Adelaide’s eyes flashed and she looked militant.

  “She is leading the King to perdition.”

  I was startled.

  “But how? … I heard her duty was to amuse him.”

  Adelaide burst into loud cackling laughter. I waited for the others to join in, Victoire just ahead of Sophie.