“You cannot obtain water!” I cried.
“But that is ridiculous.” And water had to be piped and brought from Marley. Some comments were that it was gold not water that filled the charming little stream at the Trianon. Rustic bridges were built over the stream; there was a pond and an island; and all these had to be created as though nature had put them there.
The price of all this was staggering, only I never considered it. I would yawn as I looked at the amounts; I was never quite sure of the number of noughts; but I was constantly thinking of how I could improve my little world, and it occurred to me that I should create a village, for no rustic scene was complete without people. There should be cottages, I decided, eight of them: little farms with real people and real animals. I summoned Monsieur Mique, one of the most famous of our architects, and told him what I planned. He was enchanted with the idea. Then I asked the artist
Monsieur Hubert Robert to work with Mique. They must build for me eight little farmhouses, with thatched roofs and even dung-heaps. They must be charming but natural.
The two artists threw themselves into the project with enthusiasm, sparing no expense. They were constantly suggesting improvements and I enjoyed my conferences with them. The farmhouses must be made to look like real farmhouses. The plaster would have to be chipped in places; the chimneys must look as if smoke had poured through them.
Natural was the order of the day and no artifice or expense should be spared to achieve it.
When the farmhouses were ready I peopled them with families, selecting them myself. Naturally I had no difficulty in finding peasants who were happy to make their home there. So I had real cows, pigs and sheep. Real butter was made; my peasants washed their linen and spread it out on the hedges to dry.
Everything, I said, must be real.
Thus was created my Hameau. My theatre had cost 141,000 livres; I did not stop to calculate the cost of the Hameau at the time . and later I dared not.
But I was happy there. I even dressed simply there, although Rose Berlin assured me that simplicity was a great deal more difficult to achieve than vulgarity—and naturally more costly.
In a simple muslin gown I wandered along by the brook or sat on a grassy bank so cleverly built that none would have guessed it had not always been there. Sometimes I caught fish and these were cooked; for I had had my stream well stocked with fish as it naturally would be in the country. Sometimes I milked cows, but the floor of the cow house was always cleaned before I came and the cows brushed and cleaned. The milk would fall into a porcelain vase marked with my monogram. It was all very delightful and charming. The cows had little bells attached to them and my ladies and I would lead them by blue and silver ribbons.
It was enchanting. Sometimes I would pick flowers and take them into the house and arrange them myself. Then I would take a walk past the farmhouses to see how my dear peasants were getting on and making sine that they woe behaving naturally.
At least,” I said with satisfaction, ” the people in my Hameau are content. “
And that seemed a very good thing and made worthwhile the great sums of money which continued to go into making the place, for I was constantly adding to its beauties and discovering new ways of improving it.
Letters were arriving from Joseph, but they did not have the same effect as those of my mother. Moreover, that intense devotion which she had felt for me was lacking. Joseph thought me foolish—and he was certainly right in this; he lectured me, but then he lectured everyone.
He was writing to Mercy, of course, and Mercy remained my watchdog as he had during my mother’s lifetime.
Mercy, who was no respecter of persons and never minced his words, showed me what he had written to Joseph. I suppose in the hope that I would profit from it.
“Madame Royale is never apart from her mother and serious business is constantly interrupted by the child’s games, and mis inconvenience so fits in with the Queen’s natural disposition to be inattentive that she scarcely listens to what is said and makes no attempt to understand. I find myself more out of touch with her than ever.” He sighed as I read,-for my attention was straying even as he put the paper into my hands and I was wondering whether a pale pink sash would be more becoming for my darling child rather than the blue one she was wearing.
Poor Mercy! The heart had gone out of him since my mother’s death. Or was he realising at last that the task of rescuing me from my follies was hopeless?
Money I It seemed the constant topic of conversation—and such a boring one! There was apparently a deficit in the country’s finances which it was imperative to rectify: so said Monsieur Necker, who had been appointed as Comptroller-General of Finances. Turgot’s policy had failed and he had been followed by Clugny de Nuis, who had not given satisfaction. This man had not been successful although he had the support of the Parlement (largely because he had tried to undo all the work Turgot had done). He had established a state lottery, which had not worked out as he had planned it should, and his methods were leading to financial disaster. When he died there was a sigh of relief and my husband turned to Jacques Necker.
Necker was a Swiss, a self-made man who owned the London and Paris bank of Thellusson and Necker. He had proved his ability to juggle successfully with finances and was at the same time beloved of the philosophers, having won a prize for a literary work from the Academic Francaise; he had written several attacks on property-owners and deplored the contrast between rich and poor. He was a man of great contrasts perhaps more so than most. He was an idealist, yet he yearned for power. He refused to accept payment for his work; but then he was an extremely rich man and did not need money. He wanted to improve the conditions of the poor; he wanted to bring the country to prosperity; but he wanted all to know that he, Necker, and he alone was responsible for the good which was being done.
He was a Protestant, and since the reign of Henri IV no Protestant had been allowed to hold office. It indicates the impression Necker made on the King for this rule to be waived. Louis, who since he had been King had made a great effort to understand public affairs, was certain that the country needed Necker at this time.
Necker was a big man with thick eyebrows below a high forehead above which was a high tuft of hair. His complexion was yellow and his lips tight, as though he were calculating the cost of everything. He looked incongruous in fine velvets; I said to Rose Benin that he would look better in a Swiss bourgeois costume and that she had better make him one.
“Madame,” she replied, “I choose my clients with the utmost care.
Since I serve the Queen of France, it is my duty to do so. “
Necker, looking round for a means of cutting expenses, examined the royal household. We had too many servants. Madame Royale herself had eighty people in her household. None of us ever moved without being accompanied by a retinue of servants. Four hundred and six people lost their posts on the first day the resolution had been put into action; others followed.
But there seemed no perfect solution, for although we economised in our household, those who were dismissed were without employment.
Necker and his wife felt strongly about the state of our hospitals, and the King, always ready to further such good causes, was entirely in accord with them. The conditions at the Hfitel-Dieu in Paris were truly shocking. My husband went, incognito, and wandered through the wards, and when he came back he was in tears and very melancholy. But France did not want tears; it needed action. He knew this, and planned to pull down the old building and replace it by four new hospitals.
But where was the money to be found? He had to abandon that grand scheme and satisfy himself with enlarging the old building and adding three hundred beds.
And while this was happening my bills at the Hameau were steadily mounting.
Why was my folly not brought home to me? Why did everyone wish to indulge me? And was it indulging me? Was it not giving me -a helping hand towards my doom? Before our daughter had been born my husband had in
dulged me because he was so apologetic for the embarrassing situation in which he had placed me; afterwards, he could not thank me enough for proving to the world that he could be a father.
But why should I blame others? I was told of these things, but I did not listen. I would weep when I heard of conditions at the hospital.
After the birth of Madame Royale I had asked if I could found a lying-in hospital. This I had done. It salved my conscience. I could stop thinking about unpleasant things like dying people lying on the floor of the Hfitel-Dieu tormented by vermin while the rats leapt over them and there was no one to attend them or feed them.
Necker was constantly trying to bring in reforms—hospitals. prisons, the state of the poor. He instituted a new rule of loans not taxes, which made the people cheer him but did nothing to alleviate the situation.
Necker wanted popularity; he never criticised me. I know now that it was because the King doted on me and wished me to have my diversions; although Necker wanted to do good to France, he wanted most of all to bring power to Necker. Without the King’s support he could not do this, and therefore he must continue to please the Queen.
The lack of money seemed to affect everyone. There was a great scandal when the Prince de Guemenee became bankrupt This ruined several traders who had been supplying him for years. His enormous retinue of servants were in despair. The affair reverberated throughout Versailles and Paris; and naturally his wife could not hold her post as governess to the Enfants de France.
In her place I chose my dearest Gabrielle. She was not ‘eager. Perhaps what I loved most about the dear creature was her indifference to power. I think Gabrielle would have been happiest if she could have lived quietly in the country away from Courts. She had no desire for jewels, not even fine clothes. Perhaps she knew she was beautiful enough to do without them. She was lazy and liked nothing better than to lie on the lawns at the Trianon just with myself and perhaps a few of our very in ornate friends and idly chatter. She declared that she was not suited to the post. The Dauphin needed a nurse who was constantly watching over him.
“But shall watch over him,” I declared, ‘and so will his father and many others. We shall be together more than ever. You must accept, Gabrielle. “p>
Still she hesitated. But when her lover Vaudreuil heard, he insisted that she take the post. I often wondered what happened between them.
She declared she was terrified of him terrified but fascinated. So Gabrielle became the children’s governess. I now know that this friendship between myself and Gabrielle was one of the main causes of com plaint against me. How strange! It was so beautiful really a loving friendship: the desire of two people who had much in common to be together. Where was the harm in it? Yet it was misconstrued. I do not refer to the evil construction which was put on that friendship. There must always be libels about me and my friends.
I ignored them; they were so ridiculous. But her family were ambitious. I persuaded Louis to make Gabrielle’s husband a Duke, which meant that she had the droit au tabouret; then her family were constantly producing some member who needed a post at Court. Large sums were constantly being paid to that family from the ever-diminishing treasury. Money !
One lovely June day I was seated in my gilded apartment playing the harpsichord and my thoughts were wandering from the music. I was contemplating that I was growing old. I was nearly twenty-eight! My little daughter would be five years old in December and my little Dauphin two in October.
Ah, I sighed inwardly, I am no longer young; and a sadness took possession of me. I could not imagine myself old. What should I do when I could no longer dance, play and act? Arrange marriages for my children! Lose my sweet daughter to some monarch of a far-off country!
I shuddered. Never let me be old, I prayed.
There was a scratching at the door.
I looked up from the harpsichord and signed to the Princesse de Lamballe to see who wished to enter.
It was ‘an usher to announce a visitor.
I started as I saw him in the doorway. He had aged a good deal, but he was none the less attractive for that.
He is more distinguished than ever, I thought.
Comte Axel de Fersen was approaching. I rose. I held out my hand; he took it and kissed it.
I felt suddenly alive, glad of these moments. AU my gloomy thoughts of encroaching age had disappeared.
He had come back.
What glorious days followed. He came constantly to my drawing-room, and although we were never alone we could talk together and we did not need words to convey our feelings for each other.
When he talked to me of America he glowed with enthusiasm He had been awarded the Cross of Cincinnatus for bravery, but he did not wear it. It was forbidden by His Majesty King Gustave of Sweden, but the latter had been impressed by its bestowal, for he had made Axel a colonel in his army.
‘now,” I said, ‘you will stay in France for a while I shall have to have a pretext for doing so.”
“And you have none?”
My heart has a reason; but I cannot declare that to the world. There must be two reasons. “
I understood. His family were pressing him to return to Sweden and settle down. He should marry . a fortune. He should consider his future. How could that be furthered in France?
He told me of these matters and we smiled at each other in a kind of enchanted hopelessness. Never from the beginning did we believe we could be lovers in truth. How could we? I was a very different woman from the woman portrayed in the pamphlets. I was fastidious; I was essentially roman tic. A sordid bedchamber interlude had no charms for me. I believed in love love that is service, devotion, unselfishness . idealised love. It seemed to me that Axel gave me that. In his Swedish Army uniform he looked magnificent apart from all other men.
I saw him like that, and that was how he would always be to me. I was not looking for transient sensations, the gratification of a momentary desire. I dreamed that I was a simple noblewoman, that we were married, that we lived our idealised lives in a little house somewhere like the Hameau, where the cows were all dean and the butter was made in Sevres bowls and the sheep were decorated with silver bells and ribbons. I wanted nothing sordid to enter my paradise.
Moreover I had my babies. To me they were perfect. And jAey were Louis’s children. I would not have them different in any way, and my little Madame Royale already had a look of her father.
There was no logic in my dreams; there was no practical reasoning. I wanted romance and romance is not built on the realities of life.
Nevertheless I wished to keep Axel in France. I was delighted when Louis showed me a letter he had received from Gustave of Sweden. It ran:
“Monsieur my brother and cousin, the Comte de Fersen having served with approbation in Your Majesty’s armies in America and having thereby made himself worthy of your benevolence, I do not believe I am being indiscreet in asking for a proprietary regiment for him. His birth, his fortune, the position he occupies about my person … lead me to believe he can be agreeable to Your Majesty, and as he will remain equally attached to my own, his time will be divided between his duties in France and in Sweden….”
It did not take long to persuade Louis that this was an excellent idea.
Axel now had the opportunity to be more often at Versailles without arousing comment. He could come in the uniform of a French soldier.
“My father is not pleased,” he told me.
“He feels I fritter away my time.”
“Alas,” I replied, “I fear it too.” I never frittered more happily. ”
“There is a concert tonight. I shall look for you.” And so it went on.
Fersen pere was an energetic man. If his son determined to waste his time in France he must marry. There was a very eligible young woman who would suit him admirably. She had a fortune, her father was a power in France, but what she needed was a husband with birth and title. Germaine Necker, daughter of the Comptroller, was the chosen bride.
“It must not be,” I said.
Fersen agreed, but he was gloomy. The Neckers had already been informed of the proposition and they thought it an excellent one.
Mademoiselle Necker would be mortally offended if he failed to propose marriage to her.
We must find another suitor for her,” I declared.
“One whom she will like better.”
I was horror-stricken. How could any woman like any one better than Axell Germaine Necker was a very determined woman. She would marry whom she pleased, she announced; and oddly, it seemed to me, she did not propose to marry Axel. For some time she had been in love with the Baron de Stael;
she made up her mind to marry him, and being the forceful young woman she was, in a very short time Germaine Necker had become Madame de Stael.
Axel showed me a letter he had written to his sister Sophie, of whom he was very fond and with whom he was always outspoken. She would understand his true feelings, he assured me.
I will never assume the bond of matrimony. It is against my nature. Unable to give myself to the person to whom I wish to belong and who really loves me, I will give myself to nobody. ” Romance had been preserved.
Even so, he could not stay indefinitely in France. Family affairs called him back to Sweden. But I knew that he was mine for ever. He would never marry; he had said so.
A few months later he was back in Paris, whither he had come with his master Gustave. I remember well the day the news was brought. Louis was on a hunting expedition and staying at Rambouillet, and when the news was brought that Gustave had arrived, my husband dressed so hastily to receive him that the King of France greeted his guest wearing one gold-buckled shoe with a red heel and one with a black heel
The Queen`s Confession Page 28
