The Queen`s Confession

by Виктория Холт

  nor was I eager to avoid him. I kept saying to myself:

  Soon my dream will come true. I have now as much chance as any other woman of becoming a mother.

  Louis said he must write to my brother, to whom we owed all this.

  I hope that next year will not go by without my giving you a nephew or niece. It is to you we owe this happiness. “

  The news was going all round the Courts. The aunts insisted that they hear all about it. Adelaide was in a mood of great excitement and she explained everything in detail to her sisters.

  Louis had mentioned to Aunt Adelaide in a rush of confidence I find the pleasure very great and I regret that so long a time had passed without my being able to enjoy it. “

  The King was excessively cheerful; the Court looked on with interest and made bets as to when there would be proof of the newly-acquired royal virility. Provence and his wife tried to hide their annoyance, but I was aware of it. Artois mischievously tried to provoke Provence, while he made jesting references behind our backs to the King’s newly-acquired prowess.

  Our lives were certainly at the mercy of those about us.

  There was no privacy. It was noted that I looked tired in the mornings, which provoked titters and furtive observation. Everyone was watchful.

  I did not care.

  I was longing for the day when I could announce that I was about to become a mother.

  The Arrival of Madame Royale

  Madame, my dear Mother, my first impulse, which I regret not having followed some weeks -ago, was to write to you of my hopes. I stopped myself when I thought of the sadness it would cause you if my hopes proved false.

  MARIE ANTOINETTE TO MARIA THERESA

  The torrents of inquisitive people who poured into the chamber were so great and tumultuous that the rush was near destroying the Queen. During the night the King had taken the precaution to have the enormous tapestry screens which surrounded Her Majesty’s bed secured with cord. Had it not been for this foresight they would most certainly have been thrown upon her. The windows were caulked up; the King opened them with a strength which his affection for the Queen gave him at that moment.

  MADAME CAM PAN MEMOIRS

  We must have a Dauphin. We need a Dauphin and heir to the throne.

  MARIA THERESA TO MARIE ANTOINETTE

  Each day I thought of my new hopes. I longed for a sign that I was pregnant. I tried hard to follow Joseph’s instructions and considered what would please my husband. He was equally attentive. At least we both desired the same thing. I dreamed about my own little Dauphin.

  When I had him I would ask nothing more of life. My desire for a child was a burning intensity.

  That August I gave a fete at Trianon, setting up a fair in the gardens with stalls; I allowed the shopkeepers of Paris to bring their stalls in to the gardens and I myself took on the re1e of limonadiere and was

  dressed as a waitress in the most delightful muslin and lace specially created for me by my ever-accommodating Rose Benin. Everyone declared that they had never seen such a limonadiere and they hurried to be served by me. I and my ladies felt it was the greatest fun in the world to serve lemonade.

  The King was constantly at my side and everyone noticed how tenderly we behaved towards each other.

  All through that year I hoped and dreamed and nothing happened. I began to wonder whether it ever would. I would have little Armand brought to me each morning; he de lighted me for he had grown very affectionate and his great blue eyes would look so mournful when I had to leave him;

  but he always made me long more than ever for a child of my own.

  Perhaps, I thought gloomily as the year came to its close, even though our marriage has been consummated it may not be fruitful.

  I was in despair. I sought the old pleasures to console myself. Artois was always at my side, determined to bring me out of my solemn mood, he told me, and make me enjoy life again. Let us disguise ourselves; let us go to the Opera ball.

  It was carnival time and I longed to go to the ball, but when my husband asked me if I were going I said No, because I believed he would prefer I did not. He hastily replied that he would not dream of keeping me from my pleasure and that I should go to the ball as long as I was accompanied by the Comte de Provence. So I started dancing again. I began visiting the Princesse de Guemenee’s apartment and playing heavily. Joseph’s warnings were forgotten and I was back with the old bad habits.

  We played games and tricks together and on each other. Artois was always playing practical jokes and I and the Prince de Ligne decided to play one on him. We often had music in the Orangerie, and very high up in a niche on the wall there was a bust of Louis XIV. When the concert was over and we were leaving the Orangerie, Artois always bowed low to this statue and cried: “Bonsoir, Gran’pere.” I thought it would give him a shock if the statue answered, so I arranged that we should get a ladder and the Prince de Ligne should climb up to the statue; we would then remove the ladder and the Prince would answer Artois in deep serious tones.

  We were convulsed with laughter thinking how alarmed Artois would be believing that he had called the shade of his great and formidable ancestor from his grave by his frivolous raillery.

  However, the Prince refused at the last moment because he had been told by one of his friends that someone had decided to carry the joke a bit further by refusing to bring the ladder back by which he would descend, so that he would not-be able to get down.

  The Prince had no great desire to spend the night high up in the Orangerie with the bust of Louis XIV, and the joke fell through. But that was the sort of life we were leading.

  And when I was in the depth of my despair believing I should never have a child, to my great joy I guessed I might be pregnant. I was so excited I could scarcely go about my normal affairs. I was terrified that I might be wrong; and I was determined I was not going to say anything until I was sure. Everyone had watched me expectantly at first, now they ceased to do so; and I was glad of it.

  I did not want to do anything but dream about the child. I pretended to be ill one of my ‘nervous affectations’ so that I should be alone to think.

  “Monsieur Ie Dauphin,” I said to myself a hundred times a day.

  I studied my body but there was no difference as yet. I was very careful getting in and out of my bath lest I should slip. My bath was shaped like a sabot and for the sake of modesty I wore a long flannel gown buttoned to the neck when I sat in it; and when I came out I always made one of the two bathing women in attendance hold a cloth in front of me so that my attendants should not see me. Now I felt this to be doubly necessary. Not that my body had changed one little bit.

  The weeks passed and I clung to my secret and at last I felt convinced. I was certain I had felt the child move within me.

  My husband should be told first. I was so excited that I did not know how to break the news. I knew he would be overcome with emotion too.

  Did he not desire this as much as I did?

  I went to his apartments. I was half laughing, half crying.

  He rose when he saw me and came towards me in consternation.

  Laughing I cried: “Sire, I have come to lodge a complaint against one of your subjects.”

  He was startled. What has happened “He has kicked me.”

  “Kicked you I’ Indignation and horror.

  I burst out laughing.

  “In the womb,” I answered.

  “He is young yet, so I hope Your Majesty will not be too severe.

  He looked at me, wonder dawning on his face. The child had not kicked;

  he was too young yet; but perhaps I imagined that I could feel him moving, I wanted him so much.

  “Can it be?” whispered my husband.

  I nodded; then he embraced me; and we remained clinging to each other for some minutes.

  We were so happy; yet we both wept.

  I wrote to my mother:

  “Madame, my dear Mother, my first impulse, which I reg
ret not having followed some weeks ago, was to write to you of my hopes. I stopped myself when I thought of the sadness it would cause you if my hopes proved false….”

  I no longer wanted to dance. It would be bad for the child. I wanted to sit and dream. I wrote again to my mother:

  “There are still moments when I think it is only a dream, but this dream goes on and I think I need no longer doubt….”

  Had I ever been so happy? I did not think so. A child . all of my own!

  I was a little absent-minded when Armand came to sit on my bed. I did not see him. I saw another child. My own . my baby Dauphin.

  I was writing to my mother frequently of all my hopes, how I was going to care for my Dauphin, what I was preparing for him. I was taking care of myself. I took quiet walks in the gardens of Versailles and Trianon; I liked to sit and talk in the petits appartements, listening to gentle music and doing a little needlework. I was planning my baby’s clothes. I wanted to do so much for him myself. I could not wait for him to be born. I wrote to my mother:

  “The manner in which they are brought up now is much less constricting. Babies should not be swaddled. They should be in a light cradle or carried in one’s arms. I learn that they should be out of doors as soon as possible so that they can grow accustomed to fresh air by degrees, and they end by being in it almost the whole of the day. I believe it to be good and healthy for them. I have arranged for my baby to be lodged downstairs, and there shall be a little railing separating him from the rest of the terrace. This will teach him to walk early How I longed to have him with me. I was impatient of the waiting.

  The discomforts of pregnancy did not worry me in the least. I welcomed them. I was never tired of talking of babies and I gathered about me those people who had had them so that they could talk of their experiences.

  But how long the waiting seemed I I began to grow so weary of it; sometimes I was almost sick with longing for my child.

  My baby was due in December and the summer seemed endless; and then a strange event occurred which for a short while made me less aware even of my coming baby.

  It was August and I was in the crowded salon with my husband and brothers-and sisters-in-law, and I was beginning to feel a little tired. I knew I only had to catch Louis’s eye and he would dismiss the assembly. He was always so ] solicitous of my health and terrified, as

  I was, that the baby . might be jeopardised. Then it happened. He was some little distance from us and neither my husband nor his brothers knew him. But I did. I took one look at that unusual and most handsome face, at the contrast of fair hair and dark eyes, and I was trans ported back to an Opera ball at which as Dauphine I had danced disguised . until I had revealed myself.

  “Ah,” I cried, impulsively.

  “Here is an old acquaintance ” Madame. ” He was standing before me, bowing low over my hand. I felt his lips against my fingers and I was happy.

  “Comte de Fersen,” I said thoughtlessly.

  He was delighted that I should remember him. Others watching me were they not always watching me? were surprised and naturally would not let the matter pass.

  He had changed a little since we had last met; but then so had I. We had both become more mature. I asked him to tell me what had happened to him after the Opera ball.

  He had been to England, he said, and after that to Northern France and Holland, before returning to the Chateau of Lofstad, which was his home in Sweden.

  “And you were happy to be home.”

  He smiled; he had the most charming smile I had ever seen.

  “The Court of Sweden seemed a little dull after that of France.”

  I was pleased, loving compliments.

  “But it is your home,” I reminded him.

  “I had been so long away … Brussels … Berlin, Rome, London, Paris in particular Paris.”

  “I am pleased that our capital pleased you He looked steadily at me and said: ” There is something here that . enchants me. “

  I was excited. I knew what he meant.

  “You have a family, though … a large family?”

  “A younger brother and three sisters, but they were always away from home. They all held posts at Court.”

  “Naturally. But I know what it means to live in a large family and leave it….”

  I dared not talk to him much longer for we were being noticed. He was courtier enough to realise this.

  I said conspiratorially: “We will talk together again.” Being thus dismissed he bowed and I turned to my sister-in-law who was standing beside me. Marie Josephe would be beside me at such a time. I was sure she had listened to every word.

  What strange days they were. I don’t think I had ever been so happy in the whole of my life. I would wake in the night and put my hands on my body to feel the child; and I would picture my little boy lying in my arms or I would be teaching him to walk and say “Maman.”

  Then I would think of Comte Axel de Fersen, with his strangely beautiful face and his ardent eyes. Of course I was happy. I had never carried a child before; I had never before known a man with whom I felt so completely at peace. I had strange thoughts—perhaps women do during pregnancy. I wished that I lived in a little house with a husband like Axel de Fersen and babies . lots of them. I believed that if I could do that, I should ask for nothing else. What were gambling, dancing, practical jokes, glorious silks and brocades, fantastic head-dresses, diamonds . a crown . what would all these things amount to when compared with that simple life of complete contentment?

  I can be honest with myself now and say that if I could have had that I should have been happy. I see myself now as an ordinary. woman, not clever, unsubtle, sentimental, a woman who was meant most of all to be a mother.

  But I had been miscast in the role of Queen.

  It was a pleasure to discover more and more of Axel de Fersen. His love of music delighted me. I sent him invitations to concerts; sometimes I would invite him with a few intimate friends. I would play the harpsichord to them and sometimes sing. I had not a very good voice but it was pleasant enough, and everyone applauded me naturally whenever I sang. But the singing was for him, though we could never be alone together since we were watched at every turn. I remember my brother Joseph’s warning about my sister-in-law Marie Josephe. She was not a Piedmontese for nothing, he had said; and she was certainly constantly setting people to spy on me. She was a jealous woman. Provence could not get children; and his one hope and hers had been that I should die childless and leave the way to the throne clear for them. Now I was with child; there might be many more children once we had proved we could have them. And they were naturally disconsolate.

  But although Axel and I were not alone together we did enjoy many conversations. He made me see his affectionate mother; his father, for whom he had a deep respect and who, he admitted, was a little parsimonious and wondered when his son was going to give up wandering about Europe and settle down to a career. He even told me of Mademoiselle Leyel, a Swedish girl who lived in London and to whom he had been sent to pay court.

  “Her vast fortune greatly appealed to my family,” he said gravely.

  “And to you?” I asked.

  I am not averse to a large fortune “And she is beautiful?”

  “She is reckoned so.”

  “I am interested in your adventure in London. Tell me more.”

  “I was a guest in her parents’ luxurious mansion.”

  “That must have been most pleasant.”

  No,” he said.

  “No. ” But why not? “

  “Because I was an unenthusiastic wooer.”

  “You surprise me.”

  “Surely not. I was pursued by a dream. Something happened to me once years before … in Paris. In the Opera House there.”

  I was afraid to speak to him for I was very much aware of my two sisters-in-law silently watching.

  “Ah I And did you not ask for her hand?”

  “I asked her. It was my father’s wish,
and mine to please him.”

  “So you are to marry this rich and handsome woman?”

  “By no means. She refused me.”

  “Refused you?”

  “Your Majesty sounds incredulous. She was wise. She sensed my inadequacies.”

  I laughed lightheartedly.

  “We should not have cared for you to go to London … so soon. You have only just arrived in Paris.”

  And so the days passed. Great events were happening to us but I paid no heed to that. It was only later that I gave them a thought.

  Throughout the Court the conflict between England and her colonists in America, was being talked of and with great glee, because it delighted all Frenchmen to see their old enemies the English in trouble. Although in Paris English habits were followed slavishly there was an inherent hatred for our neighbours on the other side of the Channel.

  Frenchmen could not forget the defeats and humiliations of the Seven Years War and all they had lost through that to the English; and ever since 1775, at the beginning of our reign, we had been applauding the Americans; in fact there were many Frenchmen who believed that France should declare war on England. Some time before, I remember my husband’s telling me that if we declared war on England it was very likely that this might bring a reconciliation between England and her colonies; after all, they were all English and they might well stick together if a foreign power attacked. Louis never wanted war.

  “If I went to war,” he said, “I could not do my people all the good I wished.”

  Nevertheless when America declared Independence on July 4th 1776 we were delighted and wished the settlers well. I remember three American deputies coming to France at that time; Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane and Arthur Lee. How solemn they were! How Sombre with their suits of cloth and their unpowdered hair. They stood out oddly among our exquisite dandies, but they were received everywhere and were quite the fashion and when the Marquis de La Fayette left for America to support the colonists many Frenchmen followed him. They were pressing the King to declare war, but Louis continued to stand out against it although we sent help secretly to America in the form of arms, ammunition and even money. At this time, however, the battle between our Belle Poule and the British Arethusa occurred, and Louis was reluctantly obliged to declare war against England—at least at sea.