I saw Breteuil’s eyes gleam. He hated the Cardinal as much as I did, because be had followed the Cardinal as ambassador to Vienna and since then the Cardinal had made him a butt of his malicious wit.
Breteuil said: “It is clear what has happened. Rohan is the most extravagant man in France. Not only has he rebuilt the episcopal palace in Strasbourg think how much that must have cost him but he has a retinue of women on whom he lavishes a fortune. He has taken up with the sorcerer Cagliostro, who lives at his palace in luxury and who, although he is reputed to make gold and jewels for his patron, costs the Cardinal a great deal to maintain. He has been embarrassed for money for years in spite of his great revenues. He is undoubtedly in debt and this is his means of satisfying his creditors.”
“He has disgraced his cloth and his name,” I said hastily.
“He does not deserve any consideration because of them.”
I could see my husband wavering between what he considered right and what would please me, and I threw him my most appealing glance;
Monsieur de Breteuil, unable to hide his satisfaction in an enemy’s imminent downfall, came in decisively on my side.
The King decided that Rohan should be arrested.
The Feast of the Assumption happened to be my name day and there was to be a special levee at Versailles that I might receive congratulations. Thus the galleries and the Oeil de Boeuf were crowded. As Grand Almoner of France it was the Cardinal’s duty to celebrate Mass in the royal chapel. Unaware of what lay before him he came in his lace rochet and scarlet soutane. He was told that the Ring wished to see him in his cabinet at midday. He must have been surprised that neither the King nor I had appeared in State as was expected on such an occasion; but he came in blithely enough, completely unaware of what was about to break over his head.
He bowed low to the King and me; I deliberately turned my head and behaved as though I did not see him. I was aware of the effect my conduct had on him.
Louis came straight to the point.
“My dear cousin,” he said, ‘did you buy diamonds from Boehmer? “
The Cardinal turned pale, but he answered: “Yes, Sire.”
“Where are they?”
“I believe they have been given to the Queen.”
I gave an exclamation of anger, but the King went on as though he had not noticed: “Who gave you the commission to buy these diamonds?”
“A lady called the Comtesse de la Motte-Valois. She gave me a letter from Her Majesty the Queen. I thought that I should please Her Majesty by carrying out this com mission.”
I could no longer contain myself.
“Do you think. Monsieur, that I should entrust such a commission to you, to whom I have not spoken for eight years? And could you really believe that I would choose to carry through the negotiations by means of this woman?”
The Cardinal was trembling.
“I can see that I have been cruelly deceived. I will pay for the necklace.” He turned to me and his expression was one of humility as though he were begging me for a little sympathy. He would certainly not get it.
“My desire to please Your Majesty blinded me. I did not suspect fraud until now. I am deeply sorry. May I show Your Majesty how I became involved in this matter?”
The King gave his permission, and with shaking hands the Cardinal took a paper from his pocket which he handed to the King. I went swiftly to my husband’s side. There was an undoubted order to buy the necklace; it appeared to have been written by me and addressed to a Comtesse de la Motte Valois
“That is not my writing,” I cried triumphantly.
And see,” said the King, ‘it is signed ” Marie Antoinette de France”.”
He turned sternly to Rohan, who looked as though he would faint, “How could a Prince of the House of Rohan and the King’s Chaplain believe that this is how a Queen of France would sign herself? Surely you know that Queens only sign their Christian names, and that even Kings’ daughters have no other signature, and that if the Royal Family added any other name it would not be ” de France. ” I have a letter here. It is signed by you and addressed to Boehmer. Pray look at me and tell me if this is a forgery.”
The Cardinal swayed slightly. Louis thrust the letter into his hand.
“I … I have no recollection of writing this,” he said.
“It bears your signature. Is that your signature?”
“Yes, Sire. It must be authentic if it bears my signature.”
“I must have an immediate explanation of these matters,” said the King. I could see that he was feeling sorry for Rohan. Such a proud arrogant man, accustomed to making fun of others: now he was about to be brought low. That would seem pathetic to Louis, no matter how villainous the fellow was.
He said gently: “My cousin, I do not want to find you guilty. I should like you to justify your behaviour. Now explain to me the meaning of all this.”
“Sire,” stammered the Cardinal, “I am too distressed to reply to Your Majesty at present…. I am not in the condition …”
The King said kindly: “Try to calm yourself. Monsieur Ie Cardinal, and go into my study. There you will find paper, pens and ink. Write what you have to tell me He left us.
“He is a very guilty man,” said Breteuil; but the King was silent. An affair like this distressed him greatly.
We waited for a quarter of an hour. Outside in the Oeil de Boeuf the crowds must be becoming restive. They would know there was something wrong. The King sat at his table frowning now and then glancing at the dock. Miromesnil looked very uneasy.
It was fifteen minutes later when the Cardinal appeared with a paper on which he appeared to have written very little.
I stood beside the King and read it with him. It was only about fifteen lines and seemed very confused. All I could gather was that a woman calling herself the Comtesse de la Motte-Valois had persuaded him that the necklace was to be bought for me, and that he knew now that this woman had deceived him.
The King sighed and laid down the paper. I would not look in Rohan’s direction but I was aware how his eyes kept turning towards me. I had never hated him so much.
Where is this woman? ” asked the King.
I do not know. Sire. “
Where is the necklace? “
In the hands of this woman. Sire. “
“Where are the documents purporting to be signed by the Queen?”
“I have them. Sire. They are forged.”
We well know they are forged !’ I will bring them to Your Majesty.”
I want to warn you. Cousin,” said the King, ‘that you are about to be arrested.”
He looked stricken.
“Your Majesty knows I shall always obey your orders, but I beg you spare me the pain of being arrested in these pontifical robes.”
I saw my husband waver. He wanted to spare the man this disgrace. I clenched my hands. Louis glanced at me almost apologetically and my lips tightened. He was going to allow his pity for my enemy to overcome his desire to please me.
I showed him by my expression how I should regard such an action, and he said: “I fear it must be so.”
“Your Majesty will remember the close ties of our families,” went on Rohan.
I could see that my husband was visibly moved, and the tears of rage filled my eyes. He saw those tears and he said:
“Monsieur, I shall console your family as best I can. I should be extremely pleased if you can prove yourself innocent. But I must do my duty as a King and a husband.”
Monsieur de Breteuil was on my side. He signed to the Cardinal to make his way to the door which opened on to the Salon de la Pendule. On such an occasion this was naturally crowded; all members of the Court were present, some in the Oeil de Boeuf, others in the long gallery, in the council and state rooms.
Breteuil shouted to the captain of the bodyguard the extraordinary command, it echoed through the Galerie des Glaces:
“Arrest the Cardinal de Rohan.
I was
triumphant—triumphantly blind.
“There,” I said, ‘that matter is settled. This wicked man will be proved to be a cheat and be punished for all his sins. “
I sat down to write to my brother Joseph:
“As far as I am concerned I am delighted at the thought of not having to hear this miserable business talked of again.”
I do not understand now how I could have deceived myself and whether I actually believed that, or, deep in my heart, realising the enormity of this affair, refused to see it. I have come to believe I was adept at deceiving myself.
I expected congratulations from my friends. I expected them to say how pleased they were to see that wicked man brought to an account of his sins at last. But there was an odd brooding silence in my apartments.
Gabrielle did not visit me; it did not occur to me that her family might be advising her to keep away. Madame de Campan was quiet and restrained as though she were involved in the affair. I should have been warned. She really cared for me, and when I was in danger her love for me would make her anxious while her intelligence would not allow her to deceive herself. The Princesse de Lamballe agreed with me that it was a good thing, but then as Vermond had once pointed out, she had a reputation for stupidity; and Elisabeth was sad, but then she was so pious that she always deplored trouble of any sort even for those who she knew deserved it. My sisters-in-law seemed smugly pleased. But there was so much to think of. What of The Barber of Seville! Nothing must interfere with that production.
I decided to leave Versailles at once for the Petit Trianon. We must continue with the rehearsals this ridiculous affair of the necklace has interrupted,” I declared.
So I went to the Trianon and thought of nothing else but my part.
When Campan told me that Rohan’s family were furious because he had been arrested and sent to the Bastille I merely laughed.
“It is where he should have been long ago,” I retorted. ‘now hear me in the first act. “
How strange that the dialogue in this very play was like a grim warning. I remember now Basile’s speech on calumny, but strangely enough I took no heed of it then. Now it comes back to me:
“Calumny! You don’t know what you are disdaining when you disdain that. I have seen people of the utmost probity laid low by it. Believe me, there is no false report however crude, no abomination, no ridiculous falsehood, which the idlers in a great city cannot, if they take the trouble, make universally believed—and here we have little-tattlers who are past-masters of the art….”
How true that was to prove, and how foolish I was to believe that I had heard the last of the affair of the diamond necklace. But I thought of nothing then but my performance. At the end I stood triumphantly on the stage to receive the applause; I had played as rarely before.
Such a play in my own theatre, myself playing the principal role! I was happy and excited with my success, and I had no notion then that this was the last time I should play there.
Events leading to the Trial
Madame de Boulainvilliers once saw from her terrace two pretty little peasant girls, each labouring under a heavy bundle of sticks; the priest of the village who was walking with her told her that the children possessed some curious papers, and that he had no doubt they were descendants of a Valois, an illegitimate son of one of the Princes of that Name.
MADAM CAMPAN MEMOIRS
The face of this woman (Baronne d’Oliva) had from the first thrown me into that sort of restlessness which one experiences in the presence of a face one feels certain of having well before without being able to say where. What had puzzled me so much in her face was its perfect resemlance to that of the Queen.
BEUGNOT
After this fatal moment (the meeting in the Grove of Venus) the Cardinal is no longer merely confiding and credulous, he is blind and makes of his blindness an absolute duty. His submission to the orders received through Madame de la Motte is linked to the feelings of profound respect and gratitude which are to affect his whole life. He wilt await with resignation the moment when her reassuring kindness will fully manifest itself, and meanwhile will be absolutely obedient.
Such is the state of his soul.
MONSIEUR DE TARGET, ADVOCATE FOR THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN AT THE TIME OF THE TRIAL
Looking back, I see the affair of the necklace as the beginning, as the first rumble of thunder in the mighty storm which was to break about my head. I was determined that Rohan should be judged and found guilty; he must be exposed as the swindler I believed um to be. Should he be excused because he was a prince of a noble family? I owed it to my mother as well as my own dignity as Queen of Prance to have him proved guilty of all the sins which I was certain he had committed.
I laughed when I considered what I was sure his family expected. They would imagine that the King would exercise his right to inflict a mild punishment on the Cardinal, perhaps send him a lettre de cachet which would mean a brief exile; then he could return to Court and the incident be for gotten.
I was determined that this should not be.
Louis, as usual, wavered. His good sense told him that he should listen to wise counsellors and obey his own instincts in the matter, which were that the less universally known about the matter the better for us all; but his sentiments towards me and he loved me truly insisted that he listen to my outbursts of fury against a man who had dared presume that I would enter into an underhand negotiation with him. Whenever Rohan’s name was mentioned, I would burst into an angry tirade which often ended in tears.
“The Cardinal must be punished.”
Louis pointed out that the Cardinal belonged to one of the oldest families in France; he was related to the Condes, the Soubises and the Marsans; they believed that they had been personally insulted since a member of their family had been arrested publicly like a common felon.
“Which be isl’ I declared.
“And the whole world should know it.”
“Yes, yes,” replied my husband, ‘you are right, of course. Yet not only his family but Rome itself is displeased that a Cardinal of Holy Church should have been submitted to insult. “
“And why not,” I demanded, ‘when he deserves his fate more than some man who steals bread because he is hungry. “
“You are right,” said my husband.
I embraced him warmly.
“You will never allow a man who has insulted me to go free, I know.”
“He shall have his just rewards.”
All the same Louis allowed the Cardinal to decide whether he would be judged by the King or the Pariement.
He quickly made his choice and wrote to the King, and it struck me at the time that the man who had written that letter to my husband had changed a great deal from the frightened creature who had been summoned to the King’s cabinet on the day he was arrested. He had written:
“Sire, I had hoped through confrontation to obtain proofs that would have convinced Your Majesty beyond doubt of the fraud of which I have been the plaything and I should then have desired no judges except your justice and your kindness. Refused confrontation and deprived of this hope, I accept with most respectful gratitude the permission which Your Majesty gives me to prove my innocence through judicial forms; and consequently I beg Your Majesty to give the necessary orders for my affair to be sent and assigned to the Pariement of Paris, to the assembled chambers.
“Nevertheless if I could hope that the inquiries which have been made, and which are unknown to me, could have led Your Majesty to decide that I am only guilty of having been deceived, I should then beg you.
Sire, to decide according to your justice and your kindness. My relations, penetrated with the same sentiments as myself, have signed.
“I am, with the deepest respect, Cardinal de Rohan De Rohan, Prince de Montbazon Prince de Rohan, Archbishop of Cambrai L.M. Prince de Soubise’ When my husband read this letter he was disturbed. He too was struck by the change in Rohan. His imprisonment in the Bastille had changed him from a ve
ry frightened man to an arrogant one.
I could see the speculation in his eyes. He said to me: “If I admitted that the Cardinal is merely a man who has been deceived into taking part in this fraud, he would not wish to be tried by the Parlement.”
I laughed aloud.
“I dare say not. He would rather have your leniency than a judicial sentence when he is proved guilty.”
“What if he is not proved guilty?”
‘you are joking. Of course he will be proved guilty. He is guilty.”
My husband looked at the letter; he was staring at those names at the foot of it—some of the most influential in the country.
I knew that he was hoping that the matter might be hushed up in some way, which I told myself was just what Rohan’s noble family wanted.
But I was determined to bring this affair into the open.
My folly makes me shudder even now.
The most important affair in France was the trial. Information was leaking out daily. The Comtesse de la Motte Valois had been arrested; so had Cagliostro, the notorious magician, and his wife; and so had another creature, a girl of light morals who was known as the Baroness d’Oliva and who was said to have impersonated me. The story was growing more and more fantastic every day. There had been nothing compared with this since the ascent of the balloon which had amazed everyone. But this was even more exciting; this was a trial of a great Cardinal; it was the story of a great fraud, a fabulous diamond necklace which had disappeared from the scene; it was a story of scandal and intrigue, and at the very heart of it was the Queen of France.
I was unaware then of all the twists and turns of this incredible story; but I have since heard many versions of it. In fact I have never ceased to hear of it. It was not really so much the Cardinal de Rohan who stood on trial; it was the Queen of France.
How could I have prevented what was to happen? By being a different woman. By never having entered on a life of selfish pleasure. I was not guilty of all of which I was accused in this nightmare story of a diamond necklace. My tragedy was that my reputation was such that I could have been.
The Queen`s Confession Page 31
