The Queen`s Confession

by Виктория Холт

  The King came in and shook his head sadly.

  He said: “You find the Queen much afflicted. She has great reason to be so. They were determined throughout the affair to see only an ecclesiastical Prince—a Prince de Rohan; while he is in fact a needy fellow. And all this was but a scheme to put money in his pockets, in endeavouring to do which he found himself the party cheated instead of the cheat. Nothing is easier to see through; and it is not necessary to be an Alexander to cut this Gordian knot’

  I looked at him, this kind but most ineffectual man; and I thought then of that day when they had brought us news that we were King and Queen of France and how we had cried: “We are too young to govern.”

  How right we were! We were more than too young; we were unequal to this great task—he through his inability to make a decision even when he knew the right one, and I . I was the foolish featherhead my brother Joseph had said I was—the silly child my mother had known me to be and feared so much because of it.

  But at least now I knew this; and it was something I had not fully realised before.

  The sentence was carried out on Madame de la Motte on the steps of the Palais de Justice. As was expected, she did not submit lightly. She struggled and bit her jailers, and when the V was about to be branded on her shoulder she writhed so violently that she received it on her bare breast instead. Afterwards she was carried off fainting to the Salpetriere clad in sackcloth with only sabots for her feet, to live on black bread and lentils for the rest of her life. No sooner had her punishment been carried out than the people of Paris declared her to be a heroine. The Due and Duchesse d’Orleans collected on her behalf; good things were senr to the Salpetriere. My foolish Lamballe was caught up in the general enthusiasm and took some delicacies to the prison which immediately gave rise to the rumour that I had sent her because my conscience troubled me. Then came the rumour that the story told by Madame de la Motte was true; that she had indeed acted on my behalf. It seemed, although I did not know it then, that the diamond necklace would never be forgotten.

  A few weeks after her incarceration in her prison Madame de la Motte was allowed to escape and it was whispered that I had arranged it.

  But when the libels began to pour in from England, for Madame de la Motte took to her pen when she reached that country, people still repeated this ridiculous story. The self-styled Comtesse was received in various English houses where she told lurid stories of life at the French Court, and I was always a prominent feature in them.

  Having wronged me once it seemed she was impelled to go on doing so.

  This was a turning-point in our lives and we knew it, both Louis and I. He was so good to me. He believed in my virtue, and I was grateful to him. He was tender and kind; but he did not understand how the earth was opening before us.

  Now I know that had he stood firm then he might have saved us. Had he shown himself resolute in the face of the Parlement he might have kept some of that long-standing respect for the Monarchy which was fast crumbling away.

  He should have been strong with me in the first place. He should never have allowed the affair of the necklace to be publicly known. It should have been investigated in private and settled in private.

  “No one is more pleased than I am that the innocence of the Cardinal has been established,” he declared.

  But because I was so unhappy, so upset sensing the great disaster of this affair, he sent a lettre de cachet to the Cardinal exiling him to his Abbey of Chaise-Dieu.

  He exiled Cagliostro and his wife. This was his weakness.

  If he disagreed with the Parlement he should have shown that disagreement: instead of which he accepted it, and then agreed to the exile.

  I could not rid myself of the terrible depression which had come to me.

  Mercy wrote to my brother:

  “The Queen’s distress is greater than seems reasonably justified by the cause.”

  It was true. But some intuition warned me that what had happened to me was the greatest disaster I had ever faced. I did not understand fully. I merely knew that it was so.

  I had lost my light-heanedness. I felt I would never be gay and carefree again.

  Madame Deficit

  When waste and unthrift deplete the royal treasury there arises a cry of despair and terror. Thereupon the finance minister has recourse to disastrous measures, such as, in the last resort, that of debasing the gold currency or the imposition of new taxes. It is certain that the present government is worse than that of the late King in respect of disorderliness and extortion. Such a condition cannot possibly continue much longer without catastrophe resulting.

  COMTE DE MERCY-ARGENTEAU

  I am worried about the health of my eldest boy. His growth is somewhat awry, for he has one leg shorter than the other and his spine is a little twisted and unduly prominent. For some time now he has been inclined to attacks of fever and he is thin and frail.

  MARIE ANTOINETTE TO JOSEPH II

  Four wax tapers were placed on her toilette; the first went out and I relighted it; shortly afterwards the second and the third went out also, upon which the Queen squeezing my hand in an emotion of terror said to me: “Misfortune has power to make us superstitious. If the fourth taper goes out like the rest, nothing can prevent my looking on it as a fatal omen.” The fourth taper went out.

  MADAME CAM PAN MEMOIRS

  Nothing could ever be quite the same again. For one thing, I myself had stepped across the theshold of awareness. I was no longer the frivolous child. I had become conscious of my growing unpopularity, and what had once seemed the height of pleasure now seemed a waste of time. The leader of fashion, the frivolous seeker of pleasure who threw herself so wholeheartedly into games such as descampativos and guerre pan pan seemed like a silly child. I had grown up. Moreover at the time of the verdict which had so distressed me I was heavily pregnant, and about a month afterwards I gave birth to another daughter. My little Sophie Beatrix was delicate from birth. Perhaps the grief and anger I suffered at the time of the verdict undermined my health and that of the child; but the baby took my mind completely from that affair, and I would sit nursing the whimpering child and tell myself that I did not mind what happened to me as long as she grew up strong and healthy.

  I had now four children. It was what I had always wanted. To be a mother; to live with my children and for my children.

  The libels about me grew wilder and they were everywhere, Pictures of me were stuck on the walls of Paris buildings and in all of them I was depicted wearing the diamond necklace. The story was that it was in my jewel box; that I had made a scapegoat of poor Madame de la Motte. If ever I rode out I was given sullen looks and silence. I thought often of my first visit to Paris when Monsieur de Brissac had told me that two hundred thousand Frenchmen were in love with me. How different it was now! Where had I gone wrong? I had been extravagant, careless, I knew, but I had never been vicious. Before my friends the Polignacs had urged me to interfere in the giving of appointments I had kept aloof from state affairs. But I had to admit that my desire to please them had caused me to interfere. Strangely enough, my husband, who was a shrewd man in many ways, seemed to trust my judgment. I think he was bemused because of the admiration my appearance excited in others, and yet I was not a promiscuous woman. I had been a faithful wife, which was something which could be said for few women at the Court of France. I was a romantic; the sensations I craved were for continual excitement, the daring escapade, the preliminaries of lovemaking, flirtations—I was a coquette by nature—but I had no deep sexual desires which must be gratified at all costs. Perhaps that early initiation which had been so frustratingly humiliating had had its effect upon me. Although I had always been surrounded by an admiring group of men and women who professed passionate friendships for me, these relationships had never been physical. I did not desire that. The very idea would have been repulsive to me. My life must be rather like a Watteau painting—charming, delicately romantic. But how could the people unders
tand this? And my conduct was such as to give credence to the terrible stories of sexual orgies which were attached to my name. The King, however, preserved a reverence for me. I had been patient with his inadequacies, I had shared those humiliating attempts over a number of years and never complained to him nor blamed him, now I shared his triumphs. His manhood had been vindicated and I had played a very large pan in the vindication. Therefore he wished to please me.

  And when I asked favours for my friends he was very loath to refuse them, even though his common sense might have told him it would have been wise to do so.

  I often think of him now with great tenderness. I remember his love for our children. How people would smile when he spoke of my son and ‘the Dauphin’ as he did frequently, seeking opportunities to bring the children into the conversation. And our children loved us. We were never King and Queen to them, but dearest Papa and darling darling Maman. I knew they had this special feeling for me. Children love beautiful things and my exquisite gowns would set up cries of delight when I went into the nurseries. I would hug them to me, careless of the fine stuffs which were Rose Berlin’s delight. I was happy in my nursery; and I knew now more than ever that Louis and I should have been born in a humbler station of life. We were not fit to be a King and Queen; yet we could have been good simple parents. This was our tragedy.

  How did the fearful disasters come upon us? Even now, I cannot entirely say. Even now I ask myself when that moment had come, the turning-point in affairs of men which can lead to greatness . or disaster. If my dear Gabrielle had not possessed such rapacious relations perhaps things might have been different. No, that was too small a matter.

  I was accused of working against France for Austria. Every little incident was lumed to my disadvantage, as people will do when they appear to be consumed by an all-absorbing hate. I was Austrian and because of this was resented in France.

  My brother Joseph was at war with Turkey and Prussia, and the French alliance with Austria had laid down that in such circumstances money or men should be sent to aid then-ally. I knew of course that what Joseph needed was men, not 15,000,000 livres which Monsieur de Vergennes and his Council had decided to send. I asked Vergennes to see me that I might ask that men should be sent and give my reasons why. Monsieur de Vergennes informed me that it was not politic to send Frenchmen to fight in the service of the Emperor Joseph; therefore the money would go. I explained that there was no lack of money at Vienna and that it was men who were needed, to which Vergenn’s asked me to remember that I was the mother of the Dauphin and cease thinking of myself as the sister of the Emperor. It was as though he believed I wished to sacrifice France for the sake of Austria, which was quite untrue. The money was sent. I was deeply distressed. I talked of it to my dear Campan, who during these days of uneasiness seemed to grow closer to me.

  “How can they be so wicked!” I cried.

  “They have sent all that money from the general post office making it known publicly that the carriages which are being loaded with French money are going to my brother in Austria. , they say, am sending money from France, where it is so badly needed, to my brother. And in truth I had not wished the money to be sent and it would have been sentp>

  if I had belonged to an nations. He was an autocrat but he was a Ring of whom France could be proud. The pomp and etiquette of his Court did not appear to be ridiculous because he was in fact as grand as his setting. He was not named the Roi Soleil for nothing.

  And there was his great-grandson, our dear grandfather who had been so charming to me on my arrival. It was during his long reign that the pedestal on which the Monarchy was placed had begun to crumble. Madame Campan’s father was right. It had begun long before we came to the throne. The people’s heritage had been squandered in careless and extravagant debauchery. It was later said that not since the days of ancient Rome was there such profligacy as was practised at the Court of Louis XV. But when my husband became King there should have been a change. There could never have been a King of France less given to extravagance, and he had never in his life practised debauchery He wanted to be good; he cared passionately for his people; he asked nothing for himself, only their confidence in the belief that he was their little father who would make Prance great again. Maurepas was there to advise him; he listened to Maurepas; but when I made my requests he would listen to me; and he was never sure to which of us he should give his support. He wavered. Was that what destroyed us? He was unable to think quickly, unable ever to make up his mind. This was not stupidity—quite the reverse. He was too ready to see both sides of a dispute, which was often the true aspect of the case, but it prevented his making a decision. Hence he. would go a little way in one direction hesitate, turn . give way and then sway again. My poor Louis, whose intentions were always so unselfish, who desperately sought to find the right course and seldom succeeded.

  He had trained himself to be calm in all situations, and in this he was helped by his own nature. Yet all his good qualities worked against him; for this very calmness prevented his seeing disaster when it loomed right ahead of him. He would say: “Oh, it will pass. It is only a bagatelle.”

  Had it not been for the state of the finances, we might have avoided tragedy. Was it our fault that the country’s finances were tottering on the edge of bankruptcy? To some extent perhaps I was to blame. My dear Trianon was like a greedy monster who put his head into the treasury and drank deep. My white and gold theatre, my exquisite gardens, my Hameau . they were all very expensive. But I did not think of the cost because they were so beautiful, and they made not only me but thousands of others happy.

  Turgot, and Necker, had tried to right these finances and their methods had failed. Then we called in Calonne. His policy was to borrow from the people and decrease taxation. The yearly deficit was over 100,000,000 livres.

  Everyone was talking of the Deficit. They had given me a new name. My picture, with the necklace, was seen everywhere, and underneath it were the words “Madame Deficit.”

  When Calonne had first taken over we had all felt optimistic. We did not realise then that he was thinking only of the immediate present and that the fact that things did seem to improve was due solely to the confidence he inspired. But confidence was not enough. Whenever I asked if something might be done he would bow courteously and say: “If what Your Majesty asks is possible, the thing is done; if it is impossible it shall be done.”

  This seemed a most encouraging and clever answer; but it was not the way to solve our difficulties.

  Then I forgot all these tiresome financial matters, because the health of two of my children began to worry me and occupy my thoughts exclusively. I had accepted the certainty that little Sophie Beatrix would be a difficult child to rear; but now my eldest son, my little Louis-Joseph, the Dauphin, was showing signs of weakness. The trouble began with rickets, and in spite of all the careful attention which I and the doctors bestowed on him his condition worsened.

  It soon became apparent that his spine was affected and my darling was going to be deformed. I was desperately unhappy; and my great consolation was in the good healthy looks of my dearest Madame Royale and her younger brother, the Duke of Normandy, who was healthy and lovely with his blue eyes and fair hair.

  He was a strange child, my little Dauphin; perhaps it was because he was not as strong as other boys he was introspective and clever: a little old man, he seemed at times. I loved him fiercely as one does a child whose health gives continual cause for anxiety; I was constantly in the nursery so that I might keep an eye on the baby Sophie Beatrix.

  Gabrielle was my close companion for she was governess to the children, and it was very disturbing when the Dauphin took a dislike to her. I could not understand how anyone could dislike Gabrielle she was so lovely in appearance, so gentle in manner, and she adored children. But there had always been intrigues against the Polignac family, and although Gabrielle was unlike the others she was a Polignac and no one forgot it. The Dauphin’s governor was the
Due d’Harcomt and I believe he bred this hatred in the Dauphin for his governess. I tried to stop it and this was noticed. I soon realised that I, too, was not to be allowed complete freedom in the management of my own nurseries.

  I remember one day taking marshmallows and jujube lozenges to Louis-Joseph, for he was very fond of sweetmeats. The Due dHarcourt respectfully pointed out that the Dauphin was only allowed to eat sweets as the faculty prescribed for him. I was momentarily angry that I should not be allowed to give him sweets, and then when I looked at his poor little body I thought perhaps it was the doctors who should decide.

  It was only a few days later when Gabrielle told me that the Dauphin had sent her from the room.

  “You are too fond of using perfumes, Duchesse,” he said, ‘and they make me feel ill. “

  “But,” protested Gabrielle with tears in her eyes, “I was not using perfume.”

  In some ways I found greater pleasure in my younger son, who was nearly two years old. He adored me and liked to climb all over me, examining Monsieur Leonard’s elaborate head-dress with the greatest interest and glee. He was gay and a little self-willed and very interested in everything about him; and because he was not such an important little person as his elder brother I thought of him as entirely my own.

  Little Sophie Beatrix was growing weaker. I could not leave her; it was heartbreaking to see the wan little creature fighting for her breath. I shall never forget the day she died in my arms. I looked down at the still little face and until that time I had never known such unhappiness.

  I laid her gently in her cradle and tried to comfort myself with thoughts of the other children; but looking back, it seems that perhaps that was the beginning of all my sorrows.