The Queen's Confession Part 14

"I am sorry that you could not share the satisfaction I have felt here. It is my duty to work for a people who give me so much happiness. I shall give myself up to this absolutely ..."

"We think alike," I said.

He took my hands and kissed them; then he said: "It was a splendid occasion, was it not? A deeply moving occasion. Yet nothing touched me so much as when I looked up at the gallery and saw your tears."

I threw myself into his arms.

"Oh, Louis ... Louis ... I have never felt so moved."

At Rheims, Louis performed the ritual of touching for the King's Evil - another of those old customs which dated back to Clovis. Victims of scrofula from all over France had come to Rheims for this ceremony; and two thousand four hundred sufferers lined the avenue kneeling while Louis pa.s.sed along.

It was a horrible sight, so many people so far gone in this terrible disease; the weather was warm and the stench revolting. Yet Louis did not flinch. His eyes shining with purpose, his bearing kingly as it could be at times like this, touched each one - from forehead to chin and then on either cheek, while he said: "May G.o.d heal you; the King touches you."

Two thousand four hundred times he said those words and as though he meant them; no King of France ever performed this sacred duty with more sincerity, and those poor sick people looked up at him with something like adoration.

I was proud - not only to be Queen of France but the wife of such a man.

He gave no sign of weariness when the long duty was over and Provence and Artois played their part - which was to bring first the vinegar, which was to disinfect his hands, and then the orange flower water with which to wash them.

When I was alone with him, I told him he was magnificent and he was very contented.

We would work together, he implied; and I wondered whether had I asked him at this stage to give Monsieur de Choiseul a place in his government he would have agreed. I believe he would, for he could have denied me nothing. But Monsieur de Choiseul was of the past; besides my mother did not wish him to be restored.

I wanted only one thing of Louis: children. The only thing he could not give me - but I know he longed for them as much as I did.

CHAPTER 11.

"On the most unhappy point which troubles my dear mother I am most unhappy to be unable to tell her anything new. This is certainly no fault of mine. I can only rely on patience and sweetness."

-Marie Antoinette to Maria Theresa "Here we have a spate of lampoons. No one at court is spared, including myself. They have been generous in my case. They give me many illicit lovers, both male and female."

-Marie Antoinette to Maria Theresa "I hear that you have bought bracelets which have cost two hundred and fifty thousand livres with the result that your finances are in disorder ... I know how extravagant you can be, and I cannot keep quiet about this because I love you too well to flatter you."

-Maria Theresa to Marie Antoinette "She called him [Jacques Armand] my child, and lavished tenderest caresses upon him, still maintaining a deep silence respecting the affliction which constantly occupied her heart."

-Madame Campan's Memoirs Extravagances MY LONGING FOR CHILDREN was growing more and more intense. I had increased my little family of dogs, but although I loved them dearly, they could not compensate me for my overwhelming desire to be a mother.

When my sister-in-law gave birth to a son, I longed to be in her place. When she called out in agony, I wished that agony were mine. She lay exhausted yet somehow exalted - quite unlike the unattractive little creature I had known before this. The miracle had happened to her.

I heard her voice raised half hopefully, half fearfully; and I could imagine her feelings when she received the answer.

"A little Prince, Madame ..." The words every Princess and Queen must wish to hear.

She answered: "My G.o.d! How happy I am!"

And how well I understood!

The child was well and healthy; the sound of his crying filled the apartment; it seemed the most magical sound in the world.

We left the apartment, I with my attendants, the chief of whom was the Princesse de Lamballe, my dear friend whom I had set up in place of Madame de Noailles. I grew fonder and fonder of my dear Lamballe every day and I did not know what I would do without her. I had now secured the services of Jeanne Louise Henriette Genet, the little lectrice. She was now Madame Campan, having married Monsieur Campan's son. She was devoted and good and I did not know what I would do without her either, but of course she was not of the same rank as the Princesse and had her role as one of my trusted attendants rather than a close friend who could accompany me to fetes and b.a.l.l.s.

As we came out of the lying-in chamber and through the chateau we were met by a crowd of women from the Halles of Paris. It was the custom of the public to be present at the time of royal births, although it was only the Queen who must give birth publicly; at the births of lesser members of the royal family only the family need be present. But the fact that a royal child was being born was the nation's concern and, although the people were not allowed to enter the Comtesse's bedchamber, they were in the chateau.

Thus as I walked through to my apartments the Princesse de Lamballe beside me and Madame Campan a few paces behind, I found that the women from Les Halles were all about me. They looked at me with that frank curiosity to which I had grown accustomed. I tried hard not to wrinkle my nose against the smell of fish - for these were the poissardes, who above all the Paris traders were noted for their frankness of expression - as they crowded about me, touching my clothes, my hands. My hands fascinated them particularly; my fingers were so long and slender, the skin so soft and white and of course they were aglitter with my beloved diamonds.

One woman thrust her face close to mine and, jerking her head toward the lying-in chamber, said: "You ought to be in there, Madame. You ought to be breeding heirs for France, not fondling your lady friends."

I saw the Princesse flinch; and I believe my color heightened a little, but I merely held my head high and tried to walk through the crowd.

"You should sleep with the King instead of dancing through the night and early morning."

These women may have seen me riding home from the Opera at dawn when they were making their way to the markets.

Someone laughed. "They say he can't ... Is it true?" The coa.r.s.e laughter. "You should see that he can, Madame ..."

This was becoming unbearable. The stench of these bodies, the insulting words, which were growing more and more crude every moment! Was it not enough that I had had to see my sister-in-law with her newly born son in her arms? Must I now have to listen to coa.r.s.e insults which I did not deserve?

Madame Campan was beside me! I saw her with calm dignity making a path, forcing a way through the crowd. My dearest Lamballe was not much use on such an occasion.

"The Queen is exhausted ..." said Madame Campan.

The crude jest which followed that made me shudder; but I would have no more of it. After all I was Queen of France. In my most regal manner I walked through that crowd of shouting women as though I could not see them, could not hear them, as though they did not exist. When I was in my apartment, I heard their shouting behind me; I saw the tearful face of the Princesse, the calm one of Madame Campan.

I said: "Leave me ... with Madame Campan."

And when the door shut on us, I could restrain myself no longer. I threw myself onto my bed and wept.

When I told my husband of the incident, he was saddened.

"It is so unfair ... so unfair ..." I stopped. "Is it my fault?" And seeing the stricken look on his face: "Is it our fault?"

He tried to comfort me and I whispered to him. "There is only one answer. The pet.i.te operation."

"Yes," he replied. "Yes."

I gripped his shoulders, my face alight with hope.

"You will ...?"

"I will consider."

I sighed. For so long he had been considering. It was nearly six years. What was he afraid of? The scalpel? Surely not. He was no coward. It was the indignity. The people would know; they would speculate; they would watch. Even now every time he came to my bedchamber, they knew; they doubtless calculated the number of hours he spent there. It was this continual watchfulness which was ruining our lives. If only they would have left us alone I "You will ... you will see the doctors?"

He nodded. He wanted to give me all I asked; and I had made it clear that I wanted children above all things.

When he had left me, I sat down and wrote to my mother: "I have high hopes that I shall persuade the King to undergo that little operation which is all that is necessary."

My mother wrote back that I must keep her informed, and I obeyed her. I told her everything, but I do not think she could understand the effect this continuing situation was having on me. I was twenty; I was young, extremely healthy. It was not as though I lived the life of a normal virgin. There were these constant frustrating attempts which failed. I was restless and unhappy; I turned away from my husband and then toward him. He had seen the doctors; he had asked for all details of the necessary operation; he had examined the instruments which would have to be used and had come back to me.

"I believe," he said, "that in time this will right itself of its own accord."

My heart sank. He could not face the operation. We were to go on in the old unsatisfactory way.

Every time he came to my apartments by way of the oeil de boeuf, the crowds would be there watching him. The lampoons and chansons were increasing. We were no longer the young King and Queen who were going to create a Miracle and make France a land flowing with milk and honey; we had had the Guerre des Farines; we were an impotent young man and frivolous young woman. The knowledge that while we were together those people were speculating on our actions disturbed us. We both began to dread these encounters. Yet we must do our duty. It was my idea that we should have a secret staircase built between the King's bedchamber and mine so that he could visit me without anyone's knowing when.

We did this and it comforted us but the position was unchanged and I knew it would be until he submitted to the pet.i.te operation.

I wrote to my mother: "On the most unhappy point which troubles my dear mother, I am most unhappy to be unable to tell her anything new. This is certainly no fault of mine. I can only rely on patience and sweetness."

But I was anxious for her to know that, although my husband failed me in this one thing, in all other matters I had nothing of which to complain.

Oh, yes, I was fond of Louis, but he was failing me.

There is really no excuse for the manner in which I behaved during the next phase of my life. I am sure it caused great consternation to my mother, who was watching so anxiously from afar. I can only plead the excuse of youth, my aroused senses, which were never satisfied, the unhealthy atmosphere in which I lived.

I needed children. No woman was meant to be a mother more than I. Every time I rode through the country and saw the little ones playing, I would envy those humble cottage women with little ones clinging to their skirts. My entire being yearned for children. If any of my women had children, I would ask that they be brought to me. I would romp with them and my dogs in a manner which Mercy felt was unbecoming.

In the circ.u.mstances what had I but the pursuit of perpetual amus.e.m.e.nt? I did not want time on my hands to meditate on my unsatisfactory life.

I began to suffer from violent headaches and became feverish and giddy. Mercy called them "nervous affection." He did not believe that I could be ill. In fact I looked extremely healthy; I had great vitality. But I would sometimes find myself crying for little reason. It was most disturbing.

I longed for affection - demonstrative affection - which I could not get from Louis, and I was beginning to realize the danger of my mood. I was surrounded by handsome virile young men, who delighted to pay me compliments and who showed me in a hundred ways that they desired me. Their courteous manners, their lingering glances excited me and all the time I was aware of a warning voice - that sounded like my mother's - continually ringing in my ears. This is danger. The children you bear will be Les Enfants de France. It would be criminal if they should have any father but the King.

I could not resist a little light flirtation. Perhaps Madame de Marsan was right and I was a coquette by nature; but I never allowed myself to be alone with any young man. I knew I was watched; that I was surrounded by people who hoped to see me rush to disaster; I knew that shocking things were written of me and that there many people who believed perhaps that I did lead a scandalous life.

Mercy reproached me for my restlessness. I was never in bed before the dawn; I seemed to have an endless craving for excitement. I surrounded myself with the young and giddy members of the Court and had no time for those who could help and advise me.

I tried to explain to him. I felt I could be frank with Mercy. He at least would not supply the chansonneurs with material for their libels.

"I am perplexed by my strange position," I cried in desperation. "You have seen the way in which the King leaves me alone. I am afraid of being bored. I am afraid of myself. To prevent myself brooding I must have continual action. I must have novelty."

He looked at me severely and of course went straight to his apartment and reported what I had said to my mother.

I had to have someone on whom to lavish my affections. I loved little Elisabeth and kept her with me whenever possible. Clothilde had now married and left us. My dearest friend was Marie Therese Louise, the Princesse de Lamballe. I found her enchanting, for she was so gentle and sweet, although many thought her stupid. She had a habit of swooning, which Vermond said was affectation; she would swoon with pleasure at a gift of flowers or with horror at the sight of sh.e.l.l fish. She confided in me that she had suffered so much through her marriage that it had made her afraid of her own shadow. Poor dearest Lamballe! During those days of uncertainty she was my closest companion. She was so devoted to me; she said she would be happy to be one of my dogs so that she could sit at my feet every day. We used to walk through the gardens arm in arm like two schoolgirls, which naturally shocked everyone who saw us, for it was no way for a Queen to be seen in public. But the more frustrated I became, the more determined I was to show contempt for their etiquette.

And then I met the Comtesse Jules. She was the loveliest creature I had ever seen. She had large soulful blue eyes and thick brown curling hair, which she wore hanging about her shoulders. She wore no jewels; I discovered that she had none; but on the first day I saw her there was a red rose in her corsage.

Her sister-in-law was the Comtesse Diane de Polignac, lady-in-waiting to the Comtesse d'Artois and it was Diane who had brought her to Court.

As soon as I saw her, I wanted to know who she was and commanded that she be presented to me. She was twenty-six at our first meeting but she looked as young as I. Her name was Gabrielle Yolande de Polastron and at seventeen she had been married to the Comte Jules de Polignac.

I asked why I had not seen her at Court before, for I was certain that had she been there, I should have noticed her. She answered frankly that she was too poor to live at Court; nor did she seem to care about this. My dearest Gabrielle (she was always known to others as the Comtesse Jules) was completely without ambition. Was that why I was so taken with her? She did not care for jewels; she did not care for honors; and she was a little lazy, I was to discover, and I found all this enchanting. As she talked to me she made me feel that I was not a queen but a person and that she was drawn to me as I was to her.

She was leaving Court shortly, she told me, but I said she must not do so. I would arrange that she stayed at Court I felt we were going to be friends.

She did not express surprise; in fact it was not easy to persuade her to accept. She did not really believe that she would care for Court life.

But I was determined, and as the Polignacs was perhaps the most ambitious family at Court, they soon prevailed on Gabrielle to accept the honor which I was thrusting upon her.

This was a most important encounter, for it set up a change in my affairs.

I was no longer bored. I wanted Gabrielle to be with me constantly. She enchanted me; she had a lover, the Comte de Vaudreuil; she told me about him, explaining that all ladies had lovers and their husbands had mistresses. It was the accepted state of affairs.

For ladies of the Court perhaps, but not for the Queen.

Vaudreuil I found to be a rather terrifying character. He was a Creole and, Gabrielle told me, entirely fascinating, although she was afraid of him. I would see how charming were his manners; but his jealous rages were violent. I was to discover that he was extremely ambitious, too.

The Princesse de Lamballe was naturally jealous of my new favorite, and was constantly criticizing her, which I fear made me lose patience with her. But I was still fond of her and kept her about me, although I was completely fascinated by my adorable Gabrielle.

The Polignacs had formed themselves into a coterie and their object was of course to make a nucleus about me; they would use me doubtless for their own ends, but I was too foolish to see this.

Everything I was doing was unwise, of course. My friendships for women were noticed and commented on. I guessed that reports of these would be carried to my mother and I was anxious to mention this to her before she did to me. I told her: "Here we have a spate of lampoons. No one at Court is spared, including myself. They have been generous in my case. They give me many illicit lovers, both male and female."

My shrewd mother must have been wondering how she could bring pressure on my husband to end this trying situation.

By bestowing the post of equerry on the Comte Jules de Polignac, I insured that Gabrielle could be at Court and near me. I was now caught up in the gaiety of life. There was no more boredom. The Polignac set saw to that. I was mixing with gay young people and I was the gayest of them all. Gabrielle's apartment was at the head of the marble staircase next to my own and I could see her without ceremony. Without ceremony! That was what I was always seeking.

I found these people so interesting and unusual. There was the Princesse de Guemenee, who had become governess after Madame de Marsan to the young Princesses. I had been very fond of her for some time; she was quite fascinating; she loved dogs as I did and I always enjoyed visiting her to see them - there must have been twenty adorable little creatures whom she swore had special powers which helped her to get into touch with the other world. She had left her husband, the Prince de Guemenee, and her lover was the Duc de Coigny.

Coigny was charming, seeming old to me, being about thirty-eight years old; but his manners were exquisite and I was no longer so stupid as to believe that no one over thirty should come to Court. Then there was the Prince de Ligne, a poet, and the Comte d'Esterhazy, a Hungarian whom I felt justified in seeing because my mother had recommended him. There were also the Baron de Besenval and the Comte d'Adhemar, the Duc de Lauzan, and Marquis de La Fayette, who was very young, tall, and redheaded and whom I christened Blondinet.

All these people congregated in Gabrielle's apartments and there I went to them to escape the stifling strain of etiquette in the pet.i.ts appartements.

It was the Princesse de Lamballe who brought Rose Bertin to my notice. The d.u.c.h.esse de Chartres also recommended her. She was a grande couturiere with a shop in Rue Saint-Honore and was considered extremely clever.

As soon as she was brought to me, she went into ecstasies about my figure, my coloring, my daintiness and natural elegance. All she needed to make her happy was to dress me. She brought with her some of the most exquisite materials I had ever seen in my life and draped them around me, scarcely asking permission to do so. In fact she was completely lacking in that respect which I was accustomed to receive and she behaved as though dressmaking was of more importance than the Monarchy. I was not so much a Queen as a perfect model for her creations. She made me a gown which I thought the most elegant I had ever had. I told her so and the next day she had "discovered" another material which was created for me; no one else should have it; if I did not, she would throw it aside. She would make up this material for no one but the Queen of France.

I was amused by her. She never waited in the anterooms but came straight in to my apartments. When one of my attendants referred to her as a dressmaker, she was shocked.

"I am an artist!" she retorted.

And she was. She fascinated me with her talk of silks and brocades and colors; she came to me regularly with designs and sometimes I would make a suggestion.

"If Madame had not been the Queen of France, she would have been an artist! Now she must be content to show these masterpieces to the world."

My clothes were becoming more and more elegant. There was no doubt about that. My sisters-in-law tried to copy me. Rose Bertin would laugh secretly in my apartments. "Have they the figures of Aphrodite? Do they walk as though on a cloud? Have they the grace and the charm of an angel?"

They had not, but they were rich enough to be allowed to make use of Rose Bertin's talents.

Between us she and I set the fashion of the Court. Whenever I entered a room, everyone waited breathlessly to see what I was wearing. Then they would go to Rose Bertin and beg her to copy it.