The Queen's Confession Part 19

"They are rejoicing," he told me, "because you have recovered. We feared ..."

But he could not go on. After a pause he said: "It shall never happen again. I swear it."

"The child ..." I said.

And the King nodded. The child was brought to me and laid in my arms; and from the moment I saw her, I loved her and I would not have had her different in any way.

My happiness was complete.

"Poor little one," I said, "you may not be what we wished for, but you are not on that account less dear to me. A son would have been rather the property of the State; you shall be mine. You shall have my undivided care, shall share all my happiness and console me in my troubles."

I named her after my mother. She was called Marie Therese Charlotte; but she was known from the beginning throughout the Court as Madame Royale.

Couriers were despatched. My husband himself wrote at once to Vienna; and throughout Paris there was general rejoicing, with processions and bonfires; the sky was so bright that all through the night it was like day; and the sounds of fireworks and gun salutes filled the palace.

Everything was going as it should after that first ordeal when I had been unable to breathe in that overpopulated room. The people crowded round the palace to demand how I was and bulletins were issued daily. I was tremendously happy. I had my baby and the people were so interested in my welfare that they demanded constant news of my health. The King was in ecstasies. He was so delighted to be a father; he kept coming into the nursery to see his daughter and marvel at her. "What a darling she is!" he kept murmuring under his breath. "Look at these fingers ... She even has nails, ten of them, and they are perfect ... perfect."

I laughed at him but I felt exactly the same. I too wanted to look at her all the time, to marvel at her; my own daughter, my very own!

We were young. We would have many children yet. The next would be a Dauphin. I was certain of it.

Meanwhile the birth of Madame Royale must be celebrated.

A strange incident occurred a few days after the birth of my baby.

The Cure of the Madeleine de la Cite called at the palace and asked to see Monsieur Campan. When alone with Monsieur Campan, the Cure produced a box which he said had been given to him in the confessional, so he could not reveal the name of the person who had given it to him. Inside the box was a ring, which, so the confession ran, had been stolen from me that it might be used in sorcery to prevent my having children.

Monsieur Campan brought the ring to me, which I recognized as one I had lost seven years ago.

"We should try to discover who has done this," said Monsieur Campan.

"Oh, let it be. I have the ring and the sorceries were not successful. I do not fear them."

"Madame, would you not wish to know one who was such an enemy?"

I shook my head. "I would prefer not to know those who hate me so much."

I could see that Monsieur Campan did not agree with this and thought we should have made some endeavor to discover our enemies, but my dislike of trouble prevailed and I gave orders that the matter should be forgotten.

Perhaps once again I was wrong. Perhaps had I pursued the inquiries Monsieur Campan thought I should make, I might have discovered some enemies who were living very close to me.

I quickly forgot all about the ring; there were so many other more amusing things to occupy me. The King and I were to go to Paris for my churching. On this day one hundred poor girls were married and I gave them all a dowry. When I arrived at the church, they were all a.s.sembled there with their hair most unnaturally curled and they were married in Notre Dame. We arrived in the King's carriage with the trumpeters going on ahead to announce us and twenty-four footmen resplendent in the royal livery and six pages on horseback. The Prevot came to the door of the carriage and made a speech, to which the King replied.

The procession pa.s.sed through Paris. On a balcony in the Rue St. Honore, Rose Bertin had lined up her a.s.sistants and stood at the head of them. They all dropped fine curtseys as we pa.s.sed. From Notre Dame we went to Sainte Genevieve's and on to La Place Louis XV; and although many people came out to watch us, there were hardly any cheers.

I was bewildered. What did they want! They had had their fireworks, buffets of cold meat and wine; certain prisoners had been liberated; the brides had had their dowries. I had given the first of the Enfants de France. What was wrong with them? Why this cold reception? Why these sullen looks?

When we returned to the chateau, I summoned Mercy and told him of our reception.

He nodded gravely. Of course he had heard of it already.

"It is incredible," I said. "What do they want?"

He answered: "They have heard much of your extravagances. There have been many scandalous stories. Hardly a day pa.s.ses when a new song and a rhyme about you is not being circulated. Your legerete, your dissipation, are the cause of this. This is a time of war, but you think only of amusing yourself. That is why the people are against you."

I was hurt and a little frightened. It had been alarming to ride through those crowded silent streets.

"I will be different," I said firmly. "I will give up these too conspicuous amus.e.m.e.nts. I am a mother now ..."

I meant it. I wanted to.

My mother wrote from Vienna, she was delighted that I had come safely through childbirth and that my daughter was healthy.

"But we must have a Dauphin," she wrote. "We need a Dauphin and heir to the throne."

CHAPTER 14.

"I must confess to Your Majesty that the Comte de Fersen has been so well received by the Queen that it has given umbrage to several persons. I must admit that I cannot help believing that she has an inclination for him; I have seen indications too obvious to leave me in doubt in the matter. The conduct of the young Comte de Fersen has, on this occasion, been admirable in its modesty and reserve and above all in the decision he has taken of going to America."

-From a letter written by the Swedish Amba.s.sador at Versailles to King Gustavus III of Sweden "My dear mother can feel rea.s.sured with regard to my conduct. I feel too much the necessity of having children to neglect anything on that score ... Besides, I owe it to the King for his tenderness to me and his confidence on which I congratulate myself."

-Marie Antoinette to Maria Theresa "Up to now I have been discreet but I shall grow importunate. It would be a crime if there were no more royal children. I am growing impatient and at my age I have not much time left to me."

-Maria Theresa to Marie Antoinette Tragic News from Vienna I WAS INDEED, AS MY BROTHER Joseph had said, a Featherhead. The incident of the ring should have warned me that I had enemies close to me who felt it important that I should remain unfertile. I should have been warned by the sullen looks of the people. There was a war in progress and wars mean increased taxation and hard living for the people; and when they hear stories of a Queen's extravagance, and actually see evidence of it with their own eyes, they become resentful. No, that is too mild a word. They become murderous with hate. I was blamed for their poverty, I, the silly little Queen, who thought of nothing but dancing and buying fine clothes and jewels. The King had given hundreds of examples of his care for the poor; he even dressed more soberly than most of the Court gallants. But he was under my spell; he gave way to me as a doting husband will to a pretty wife. My absorption with amus.e.m.e.nts and indifference to their needs were responsible for the high price of bread; and I was a foreigner.

They began to call me the Austrian Woman. What right had I - a foreigner and an Austrian at that - to come to France and presume to rule the French!

A spate of lampoons showered over Paris. Every careless little act of mine was turned into an example of extravagance, indifference to the people and, chiefly, obscenity. I only had to address a word to a man and he was my lover; I only had to smile at a woman and my relations with her were unnatural.

I knew all this. I could not help knowing it. But I shrugged it aside, as I had been shrugging aside warnings all my life.

I seemed to have a genius for making enemies and selecting friends who could only add to my troubles. I made excuses for myself by saying that I was just an ordinary woman thrust into an extraordinary role which I had not the ability to play; but perhaps I should say I lacked the concentration to play because had I been serious, had I listened to the warnings of my true friends - the King, my mother, Mercy, and Vermond, and in her small way my dear Campan - I might have turned my course even at this time. Yes, I am sure there was time then. I was on the downhill path; I had started to trip blithely down, but I had not yet begun that headlong rush from which it was impossible to stop myself.

Perhaps if my husband had been different ... But I should not blame him. His education had been neglected; he had never been taught anything of the intricacies of statecraft. I remember often how when he first knew he was King he had cried: "They have taught me nothing!" And his grandfather, Louis XV, seeing that his own end could not be far off had remarked, "I can see the working of this state machine, but I do not see what will become of it when I am gone and how Berry will extricate himself." My poor husband, so kind and yet so ineffectual except in those rare moments when he threw aside his doubts of himself, as he could do.

But at this time I saw none of this. Scurrilous verses. Lies. Scandals. There had always been plenty of them. It did not occur to me to wonder who it was who was circulating them. It did not occur to me that it might be my own brothers-in-law, my sisters-in-law, Conde, Conti, Orleans, those Princes whom I had offended.

The wild dance toward destruction had begun, but I was unaware of it.

There was so much to make me happy. There was my darling little daughter. There was Axel de Fersen, haunting me like a shadow, always at my side, or even if he were not close to me, I was aware of his glances across the room; there was the King, forever grateful because I had given proof of his virility, always kind and tender but never so much as now; there was the adored Trianon, which was gradually changing its character and losing all signs of the house in which Louis XV had entertained his mistresses. It was my house. I was changing the gardens. I was having the library painted white and had had great fun choosing my apple-green taffeta curtains. The bookshelves were lined with plays, for I intended to give plays at Trianon. I had such plans. I was building a theater there and I was already planning whom I should invite to join my little troupe of players. I never thought of the cost of this. I never thought of money at all. I would demand that the work be finished in record time. "No cost should be spared, Madame?" "No. Finish it, that's all." In a year my embellishments to the Pet.i.t Trianon had cost over three hundred and fifty thousand livres. And the country was at war; and the people of Paris were complaining of the price of bread! Perhaps I had indeed started that mad downhill rush.

But I was happy. Two months after the birth of my baby I felt a great urge to go to the opera ball. It was Shrove Sunday and I told Louis that I longed to dance there. In his uxorious mood he said he would come with me.

"And you will go masked?" I asked.

He said he would and we went together; no one recognized us and we mingled freely among the dancers, though always together. But I could see that he was bored.

"Please, Louis," I said, "let us go to the next ball which is on Shrove Tuesday. It has been such fun tonight."

Weakly, as he so often did, he agreed; but on the Monday he pleaded an excess of state business. I was so disappointed that he immediately said I should go with one of my ladies, but I should take care not to be recognized. I chose the Princesse d'Henin, an inoffensive woman, and arranged that we should drive to the house of the Duc de Coigny in Paris, where we should change into an ordinary carriage which he would have waiting for us. Everything had been arranged at such short notice that the carriage, which must necessarily have no distinguis.h.i.+ng marks on it, was old and unfit for service. It was, the Duc told us, the only one he could acquire at short notice without disclosing for whom it was intended. Consequently the thing broke down before we reached the opera. Our footman said that he would call a fiacre and the Princesse and I had to go into a shop while he did so. This was amusing to me because I had never before ridden in a public vehicle and I could not resist boasting of it to my friends. How foolish I was! It was the ideal basis on which to build a scandalous story. The Queen traveled about Paris in a fiacre. She called at the house of the Duc de Coigny! For what purpose? Could there by any doubt? This was known as L'aventure du fiacre, and there were various versions of it.

And all the time I was growing more and more dependent for my happiness on the presence of Axel de Fersen. People were beginning to notice how happy I was in his company. I loved to hear about his sisters, Fabian, Sophie, and Hedda; I loved to hear about his home in Sweden and his travels in various countries. I was less reticent than he was; he understood how we were watched. He was careful of my reputation; he knew that I was surrounded by spies and enemies; he did not tell me this, for we preserved the fable that there was nothing unusual in our relations.h.i.+p. He was merely a visiting foreigner at my Court and I was therefore naturally a little more hospitable to him than I would be to a Frenchman.

It was an idealistic relations.h.i.+p. We both knew that it could be no more; but as such it was very precious to us. He could not become my lover. My duty was to bear the Enfants de France and they could have no father but the King. But we allowed ourselves to dream wild dreams, beautiful dreams; it was like the love of a troubador for a lady whom he can only adore from afar.

It suited my mood, and I did not look beyond the present. I invited him to my card parties and when I learned that he had come to one on one of the evenings when I had decided not to attend, I wrote to him and told him how sorry I was. I had heard that he was a Captain of his King's Light Dragoons and I expressed the desire to see him in his uniform.

The very next time he appeared before me, he was wearing it. I shall never forget the sight of him in that romantic costume ... blue doublet over a white tunic, with tightly fitting chamois breeches, his cylindrical military cap decorated with two feathers, one blue and one yellow.

Several people noticed how overcome I was by emotion at the sight he presented; and I could not take my eyes from him. With his pale skin, his fair hair and those glowing dark eyes, he seemed G.o.dlike.

I thought: I have never experienced this emotion before for any other person.

After that my friends.h.i.+p for him was discussed freely and he was named as one of my lovers.

The spell was broken, and shortly afterward he said: "I can bring you only harm by remaining."

A cold fear struck me and I replied quickly that I was accustomed to calumnies. A few more could do me no harm.

"I would challenge to a duel any who spoke one word against you in my presence."

The hero of romance! He was perfect in every way. He meant it. He would willingly die for my sake and I knew it. He would even go away for my sake.

Gabrielle de Polignac sought to comfort me.

"How unlucky I am to be treated so," I said. I laughed. "But if it is malicious of people to suppose I have lovers, it is certainly odd of me to have so many attributed to me and to do without them all."

Gabrielle certainly thought it was odd of me. It was something hardly any woman in our set did without. Of course I was foolish to surround myself with these people. No wonder I was suspected of behaving as they did. Even Gabrielle was Vaudreuil's mistress. And all these women's lovers were said to be mine as well because I met them frequently in the apartments of my friends. I should have been content with the companions.h.i.+p of the Princesse de Lamballe and my dear little sister-in-law Elisabeth.

Then Axel who had always felt very strongly about the cause of American Independence made up his mind that he would go to America and help to further it.

I was heartbroken, but must keep up a pretense of mere regret at saying good-bye to someone I respected and liked to chat to. Not that I deceived anyone.

"What!" cried one d.u.c.h.esse when she heard he was going. "Are you deserting your conquest?"

I pretended not to hear this and I went on smiling blankly at Artois, who was watching me maliciously.

"If I had made one," Axel answered, "I should not abandon it. I go without leaving anyone behind to regret my going."

He would lie for me, because he knew of my feelings. It was the only thing to do. He dared not stay.

So he left. Well, I would devote myself to my child.

Rumors of my behavior had of course reached my mother, though not of Axel specifically.

I wrote to her: "My dear mother can feel rea.s.sured with regard to my conduct. I feel too much the necessity of having children to neglect anything on that score. If in the past I was in the wrong, it was due to my youth and irresponsibility, but now you can be sure I realize my duty. Besides I owe it to the King for his tenderness to me and his confidence on which I congratulate myself ..."

I meant that. I was deeply grateful to my husband for his goodness to me. It was not only fear of having another man's child which had made me agree that Axel should go away, it was the desire to be a faithful wife and worthy of my husband. I knew that he had never been unfaithful to me; he had never had a mistress. Was he the first King of France to aspire to this virtue? How many women at this Court could say they possessed a faithful husband? His kindness to me, his desire to please me, that ever-abiding tendresse, surely it demanded some reward?

Besides there was our child.

My little Madame Royale! How I adored her! I saw less of little Armand now. He was bewildered and sad and I would suddenly realize this and send for him and let him lie on my bed with me while I fed him with sweetmeats. But the position was changed. He was no longer my little boy. He was merely Armand, to be cared for by servants. What time I had was given to my own little daughter. He was well fed, he had all the material comforts that he had enjoyed before. It did not occur to me that I had acted in my usual thoughtless manner when I had taken him from his home, pampered and petted him and then cast him aside. I forgot this, but he never did. He was to remember it in the years to come; he became one of those bitterest enemies who did his share to destroy me.

So even when I had meant to be kind, I was helping to build that great force which was to come against me and envelop me and sweep me on to destruction.

My mother was writing as often as ever and the theme of her letters was: There must be a Dauphin.

I was keeping late hours, she had heard from Mercy. Was that the way to get a Dauphin? The King went early to bed and rose early. I went late and rose late. She had heard that at the Trianon where I often was I slept alone. She disapproved of the lit a part. Each month she wanted to hear that I was pregnant and there was no news of this happy situation.

"Up to now I have been discreet, but I shall grow importunate. It would be a crime if there were no more royal children. I am growing impatient and at my age I have not much time left to me."

I too longed for a Dauphin.

I did try to live more quietly. I read, as my mother would have wished, though perhaps not the books she would have chosen; I liked novels of romance; I did a little needlework and I gambled now and then, although not so heavily as before; but my greatest happiness was with Madame Royale.

The first word she said was "Papa," which pleased me as much as it did the King. I wrote to my mother: "The poor little thing is beginning to walk. She has now said 'Papa'; her teeth are not through yet, but I can feel them. I am glad she began by naming her father."

Each day there was some progress. How thrilled I was when she took her first tottering steps toward me.

I wrote and told my mother of course.

"I must confide to my dear mother a happiness I had a few days ago. There were several people in my daughter's room and I asked one of them to ask her where her mother was. The poor little thing, without a word being said to me, smiled and came to me, her arms outstretched. She knew me, the little darling. I was overjoyed and I love her even more than I did before."

Mercy was grumbling to my mother that I could be talked to of nothing, for I would interrupt and tell him that my daughter had her first tooth, had said "Maman" had walked farther than ever before; that I spent almost the whole day with her; that I listened to his conversation even less than I had before.

It seemed I could never give satisfaction.

Meanwhile my mother continued to write: "There must be a Dauphin."

To my great joy I believed I was pregnant again. I was determined to say nothing of this to anyone but the King and a few of my friends. I could not resist whispering it to Gabrielle and I told the Princesse de Lamballe and my dear Elisabeth and Madame Campan, but I did make them all swear to secrecy until I was absolutely sure.

Then a dreadful thing happened. While I was traveling in my carriage I was suddenly aware of a cold wind and without thinking I jumped up to shut the window. More effort was needed than I had believed and I strained myself, with the result that a few days after the event I had a miscarriage.

I was heartbroken. I wept bitterly and the King wept with me.

But we must not despair, he said. We should have our Dauphin in a very short time, he was sure. And in the meantime we had our adorable Madame Royale.

He comforted me and I declared how glad I was that I had not mentioned my condition to anyone except those whom I could trust. I imagined what the aunts or my sisters-in-law would have made of it. They would have blamed me, my love of pleasure, my indifference to duty ... anything to discredit me.

I told my husband how glad I was and he said that we should keep the secret and I must tell all those who knew of the affair to say nothing of it. I was quite ill for a few days, but my health was so good generally that I quickly recovered.