CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library DC 137.1.T88 Marie Antoinette. 3 1924 024 293 825 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024293825 MARIE ANTOINETTE MARIE ANTOINETTE. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE JONES COLLECTION IN THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. Marie Antoinette CLARA TSCHUDI autbotiaea translation from tbe morwegian BY E. M. COPE WITH A COLOURED PORTRAIT LONDON SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., Lim. PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1898 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE The translation of this "Life of Marie Antoinette" has been a work of love and deep interest, and I cannot send it forth into the world without a few words of comment on the gifted authoress, Clara Tschudi, whose writings deserve to be known and appreciated in England. She is a strong, but genuinely womanly character — a distinct personality — with great charm of manner and power of language ; of Swiss descent, but born in Tons- berg, the oldest town in Norway, in the neighbourhood of which, Vallo, she is living with her father, and preparing a fresh work of historical interest, for which the details were collected in France and Italy during the winter of '96-97. The present monograph, and that of the Empress Eugenie, have been translated into German and Italian, and have met with marked success among readers of all classes. In addition to a diploma of merit, "Litteris et Artibus," with which Clara Tschudi alone, among Swedish and Norwegian authoresses, has been honoured, she has just vi Marie Antoinette. received a gold medal from Oscar II., in recognition of her valuable historical researches. Professor Kirkpatrick, of Edinburgh University, a lover of Norway and its literature, writes me as follows: "I am glad to hear that you have translated Froken Clara Tschudi's Marie Antoinette. Her Eugenie, which I read with great interest and reviewed favourably some years ago, seemed to me at the time well worthy of being translated into English; but her Marie Antoinette, which I have only dipped into as yet, is evidently a much more important work, and one of more enduring historical value. Her easy and pleasant style ought of itself to ensure her works a wide circulation. " Permit me to express my hearty wishes for the success of your translation. — J. K." E. M. COPE. AUTHOR'S PREFACE Few women have excited greater interest than the unfortunate daughter of the imperial house of Austria, who, when only a child of fifteen, was taken from her native land to occupy such an important post in the corrupt court of France. Her life has therefore been already frequently described in different ways, and under many aspects. Although it is apparently a subject which is soon exhausted, Marie Antoinette ever remains of fascinating interest ; she is one of those historical women who again and again attract our attention. Her life falls into two sharply defined portions : twenty years of triumph, which cost her five years of martyrdom. In the first we see her thoughtless and careless— in the last we find her in adversity and distress, when Providence is teaching her cruel lessons as a punish- ment for her former frivolity. If she is far from blameless in her youth, she develops on the other hand, in the days of her misfortune, a greatness of soul becoming in her as a queen, and as the child of Maria Theresa. I do not in any way presume to offer my work as a portion of the history of France; I touch on political ■ ■■H-fa'&to&p, .., ■ viii Marie Antoinette. events only when it is necessary in order to explain the course of my narrative. I have wished to depict in broad outlines a portion of a human life full of vicissitudes, smiles, and tears. The scattered accounts which I have endeavoured to collect into one picture will, I hope, cast, if not a perfectly new, yet a richer light on the queen about whom there are still so many conflicting opinions. All biography is full of instruction, and I believe that my readers will find subject for reflection in my description of her life. The most important of the works I have consulted during my studies are : — Mimoires de Madame de Campari. Mimoires de la Baronne d'Oberkirch. Mimoires du Baron de Besenval. Mimoires de Lauzun. Me'moires de Soulavie. Mimoires de Weber. Mimoires inidits de Madame la Duehesse de Tourzel. Maria Theresa et Marie Antoinette. Histoire de Madame du Barry. Portefeuille d'un talon rouge. Mimoires du Prince de Ligne. Mimoires sur la vie de la Duehesse de Polignac. Madame de Lamballe, d'apres des documents inidits, par Georges Bertin. Souvenirs et portraits, par le Due de LeVis. Le Gomte de Fersen et la Cour de France. Souvenirs d'un page. Mesdames de France, par Barthel^my. Souvenirs d 'emigration, par la Marquise de L3ge. Mimoires du Marquis de Ferrieres. Belations inidites de la Prise de la Bastille. Mimoires sur la vie et le caractere de Madame la Duehesse de Polignac, par la Comtesse Diane de Polignac. Author's Preface. ix Correspondance littiraire de Grimm. Memorial de gouverneur Morris. Mimoires du Comte Valentin Esterhazy. Louis XVI., par le Comte de Falloux. Marie Antoinette, Joseph II, und Leopold II. Correspondance entre le Comte de Mirabeau et le Comte de la March Mimoires et correspondance de Mallet du Pau. Correspondance diplomatique du Baron de Stael-Holstein. Revolutions de Paris. E. Quinet : La Rivolution. Dauban : Etude sur Madame Roland et sur son temps. Madame Elisabeth, par la Comtesse d'Armaille\ Correspondance de Madame Elisabeth. Lescure : Marie Antoinette et sa famille. Lescure : La vraie Marie Antoinette. Viel Castel : Marie Antoinette et la Revolution. Feuillet de Conches : Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, et Madame Elisabeth. Pitaval : Marie Antoinette; la Reine de France dicapitie. Mimoires de Dumouriez. Mimoires de Bertrand de Molleville. Souvenirs de Madame Vigie Lebrun. Journal d'un pritre parisien. Bemieres Annies du regne de Louis XVI, par Hue. Journal de CUry. Souvenirs et notes Jideles, par Lepltre. Six journies passees au Temple, par Mobile. Fragments historigues sur le Temple, par Turgy. Emile Campardon : Marie Antoinette a la Conciergerie. Notes sur le prods de Marie Antoinette, par Chauveau-Lagarde. Madame Simon- Viennot : Marie Antoinette devant le XIX. U ™ sikcle. Chantelauze : Louis XVII, son enfance, sa prison et sa mart au Temple, d'apres des documents inidits des "Archives Rationales." Beauchesne : Louis XVII, sa vie, son agonie, sa mart, etc., etc. x Marie Antoinette. Side by side with these I have, of course, studied the different histories of Marie Antoinette and her time, which are published in France ; and I especially name the brothers Goncourt, whose beautiful and sympathetic sketches have more than once provided me with counsel and guidance in my work. The correspondence of the period has also been a considerable source of information for me. From the private letters, which for a series of years were exchanged between Maria Theresa and Comte Mercy- Argenteau, a correspondence which was carried on so cautiously that the knowledge of it was not openly known till a hundred years afterwards, many of the events connected with the youth of Marie Antoinette have been extracted which give the key to more than one of her actions, and help us to find the suffering woman beneath the Queen of France. CLARA TSCHUDI. CONTENTS Part I. $ttarie JUtohttite's |j aatlj. CHAPTER I. PAGE Birth of the Archduchess Maria Antonia — Her Education — The future Queen of France leaves her home . . ... 1 CHAPTER II. Marie Antoinette's Journey — Her Reception in Prance — Wedding Festivities . . . . ... 10 CHAPTER III. Court Life in Versailles — The Due de Vauguyon — The Daughters of Louis XV. — The Dauphin and his Diary . . 15 CHAPTER IV. Marie Antoinette's First Introduction into the great World — How the Dauphiness Spent her Day — The Comte and Comtesse de Provence — The Comte and Comtesse d'Artois — Theatricals and Dancing . 27 CHAPTER V. The Dauphiness and Madame du Barry — Maria Theresa's Correspond- ence with her Daughter . . ... 33 CHAPTER VI. Entrance of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette into Paris — Louis XV. dies . . . . ... 41 CHAPTER VII. Accession to the Throne — Court Ceremonials — The Comtesse de Noailles — Abbe 1 Vermond . . . ... 46 xii Marie Antoinette. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE Domestic Discord— Removal to Paris— Basis d'opfra — Marie Antoinette's Love of Ridicule . . • • °° CHAPTER IX. Marie Antoinette's Beauty— The Queen's Apartments in Versailles- Mademoiselle Bertin, the Milliner— The Absurdities of Fashion . 61 CHAPTER X. Marie Antoinette's Friendships— La Prinfcesse de Lamballe — La Prin- cesse de Guemen^e — La Comtesse de Polignac . 68 CHAPTER XI. Trianon . . . . ... 79 CHAPTER XII. The Queen's Extravagance — Gambling Scandals at Court — Marie Antoinette's Connection with Art and Literature — Royal Actors at Trianon . . . . ... 85 CHAPTER XIII. Marie Antoinette's Secret Troubles — Visit of her Brother Joseph — The Queen becomes a Mother for the First Time — Death of Maria Theresa — Birth of the Dauphin . . ... 94 CHAPTER XIV. Baptism of the Dauphin — Marie Antoinette's Reputed Lovers — The Comte d'Artois — Baron Besenval — Lauzun — Count Fersen — Castelnaux . . . . ... 105 CHAPTER XV. Marie Antoinette and Politics . . . . 116 CHAPTER XVI. Marie Antoinette as Mother — Madame de Polignac as Gouvernante to the Royal Children — Beaumarchais and his Comedies . . 123 CHAPTER XVII. The Necklace . . . . ... 130 CHAPTER XVIII. Threatening Clouds — Increasing Hatred of the People . . . 148 Contents. xiii Part II. Utarfe Antoinette attir tire fUfrohutmt. CHAPTER XIX. PAGE Meeting of the States-General . . . . 153 CHAPTER XX. Slander against the Queen — The Due d'Orleans . . .159 CHAPTER XXI. Political Disputes — Louis and Marie Antoinette lose their Eldest Son — Fall of the Bastille— The King visits Paris . . . 165 CHAPTER XXII. The Comte d'Artois and the Polignac Pamily leave Prance — Emigration begins — Officers' Festivities — The Women's March to Versailles . 175 CHAPTER XXIII. The 5th and 6th of October, 1789— The Royal Family leave Versailles 186 CHAPTER XXIV. In the Tuileries — The Princesse de Lamballe returns to Court — Marie Antoinette's Letters to the Princesse de Lamballe and to the Duchesse de Polignac — Hatred to the Queen continues . .195 CHAPTER XXV. Emigration — The King attends the National Assembly — Favras' Execu- tion — Death of the Emperor Joseph . ... 208 CHAPTER XXVI. Marie Antoinette as Mother — Traits in the Character of Louis XVII. . 215 CHAPTER XXVII. The Summer of 1790— Fete on the Champs de Mars— The Queen and Mirabeau . . . . ... 223 CHAPTER XXVIII. The Elder Princesses leave for Rome— The Princess Elisabeth— The King and the Clergy— Permission to go to St. Cloud • . 232 CHAPTER XXIX. Preparations for Flight— Count Fersen— Departure from Paris . . 242 xiv Marie Antoinette. CHAPTER XXX. PAGE Arrival in Varennes — Eecognition and Capture of the Royal Family . 251 CHAPTER XXXI. Opinions in the Capital — The Return Journey . . . 265 CHAPTER XXXII. Libels against the King and Queen — Madame Roland — Gustavus III. of Sweden — The Emperor Leopold — Feeling in Cohlentz — Experi- ences of Count Fersen . . ... 276 CHAPTER XXXIII. The Princesse de Lamballe and her Diplomatic Mission — Letters from the Queen and the Princesses . . ... 286 CHAPTER XXXIV. The King ratines the New Constitution — Festivities — The Queen's Last Visit to the Theatre — The Last Possibility of a Reconciliation between the Royal Pair and the Due d'Orleans . . . 292 CHAPTER XXXV. Intercourse between the Tuileries and Coblentz — Marie Antoinette plays a Double Game . . . ... 301 CHAPTER XXXVI. Foreign Powers — The New National Assembly — The Deputation from San Domingo — Family Life in the Tuileries — The Political Situation — MaVie Antoinette's Letters to the Emperor Leopold and to Catherine II. of Russia . . ... 305 CHAPTER XXXVII. Fersen's Last Visit to Paris — Death of the Emperor Leopold and of Gustavus III. — France Declares War — The Comtesse de la Motte's Libel — The Girondists in Power — Dumouriez . . . 316 CHAPTER XXXVIII. June 20th, 1792 . . . ... 326 CHAPTER XXXIX. Public Feeling in France after the 20th June, 1792 — Federation Festival — Lafayette — Conversation of the Queen with Madame Campan . . . . ... 331 Contents. xv CHAPTEK XL. PAOB The Morning of August 10th, 1792— The Last Review . . 342 CHAPTER XLI. The Royal Family leaves the Tuileries — In the Journalists' Gallery — Death of the Swiss Guards — Fall of the Monarchy . . . 349 CHAPTEK XLII. Three Days in the Feuillants' Convent . ... 358 CHAPTER XLIII. Life in the Temple . . . ... 363 CHAPTER XLIV. The Princesse de Lamballe murdered . ... 369 CHAPTER XLV. The Royal Family removed to the Tower of the Temple— Louis XVI. arraigned before the Bar of the Convention . . . 374 CHAPTER XLVI. The King is condemned to Death . . ... 379 CHAPTER XLVII. Louis XVI. takes leave of his Family — His Execution . . . 386 CHAPTER XLVIII. Marie Antoinette as a Widow — Feeling Abroad on the King's Death — Fresh Plans for Escape — Toulan and Jarjayes . . . 395 CHAPTER XLIX. Dumouriez wishes to restore the Monarchy — The Temple Searched — Illness of Charles Louis — Madame Tison becomes Insane — Baron Batz, Cortey, and Michonis . . ... 403 CHAPTER L. Charles Louis taken from his Mother — The Cobbler Simon . .411 CHAPTER LI. In the Conciergerie . . . ... 417 xvi Marie Antoinette. CHAPTER LII. PAGE Last Attempts to rescue the Queen — The Jailer Bault . . . 424 CHAPTER LIII. Marie Antoinette before the Tribunal . ... 428 CHAPTER LIV. The Queen's Will— Her Last Days . . ... 439 CHAPTER LV. Count Fersen and the Due de Polignae— Death of the Princesse Elisabeth — Last Sufferings of Louis XVII. — Is the King's Son Dead in the Temple? — Fate of the Princesse Marie Th&ese — "Chapelle Expiatoire" — Conclusion . ... 447 MARIE ANTOINETTE Part I. Jltaro JUtoituife's fjottilr. " ViriU, rien que v&rit4, toute la viriti." CHAPTER I. Birth of the Archduchess Maria Antonia — Her Education — The future Queen of France leaves her home. Six months before the beginning of the Seven Years' War, on November 2nd, 1755, the south of Europe was shaken by a terrible earthquake, and Lisbon was destroyed. Thirty thousand persons perished, and the King and Queen of Portugal had to flee from their palace, which became a heap of ruins. This was All Souls' Day, the birthday of Marie Antoinette. Her parents were Francis Stephan of Tuscany and Maria Theresa of Austria, and she was christened Maria Antonia Josephine Johanna. Even before her birth a wager had been laid on the little one. The Empress, who had already five daughters, but at that time only two sons, wished for a third. "Will it be a son or a daughter?" she asked at an evening reception in Schonbrunn during the summer of 1755. "A son, certainly," said one of the courtiers present. " You think so," replied Maria Theresa, " but I bet you two ducats it will be a girl." The courtier lost the bet, brought the ducats wrapped in paper, and presented them kneeling to his sovereign. 2 Marie Antoinette. On the paper were written the following lines, composed for the occasion by Metastasio: — " Ho perduto : '1 augusta figlia, , A pagar m' ha condamnato ; Ma s' e vero ch' a voi simiglia, Tutto 1' mundo ha guadagnato." (" I 've lost : the baby proves a maid, And so the money must be paid ; But as she 's said to be like thee, The world has gained instead of me.") Life in the court of Maria Theresa was very simple, almost homely. Not that etiquette was entirely banished from Burg and Schonbrunn, but it played no great part in either home. On the other hand, although the etiquette at court was so slight, family life also held no prominent place in Marie Antoinette's home. The Queen of France often spoke with delight of her child- hood; but it always strikes one that her father, the Emperor, stood far nearer to the heart of the girl than her mother. Accustomed as she was to command, the Empress understood the art of inspiring respect in her own family, and fear restrained the affection of her children, who never forgot, in their intercourse with her, that they were in the presence of a sovereign. Politics and the cares of government allowed Maria Theresa but little time to devote to her children. It was the duty of the court physician to visit them every morning, and then to go at once from their apartments to the Empress, who enquired most ' precisely about the well-being of her little flock ; but she herself rarely saw them more than once a week. Their education was entrusted to tutors and governesses, whom the mother selected with great care, and for whom she in a great measure traced the course of instruction to be followed, though she did not watch very closely that her plans were carried out. Those teachers who felt safe from motherly supervision were often far too indulgent towards the imperial children, and Marie Antoinette's governess was dismissed because Maria Theresa accidentally discovered that some specimens of writing, Her Education. 3 said to have been done by her daughter, were the work of her teacher. Countess Brandeisen, who came in her place, loved her pupil and gained her affection, but she also spoilt her ; and if she tried to be severe and to reprove her favourite, a loving reply or a caress was sufficient to make the Countess as gentle and lenient as ever. Marie Antoinette remained in her charge until her twelfth year, and she considered it quite a misfortune that she had come into her hands so late, and so soon had had to lose her. Countess Lerchenfeld, who succeeded, was a stronger character, and much more severe. But she suffered from both bad health and bad temper, and was in no way suited to guide the lively, joyous little girl. Metastasio gave her lessons in Italian, and taught her to speak the language with grace and fluency ; she also , translated difficult Italian books without effort. Gluck was her music master, and she retained her liking for his style through life. In other branches too she had the best instructors, but she made no progress in anything, except Italian and music ; and her mother complains in her letters that her youngest daughter does not profit from the instruction of her teachers. The Archduchess Antonia, as she was called in Vienna, always spelt incorrectly, and her handwriting was almost illegible. Her drawings had to be improved before they could be shown to her mother, and in geography she was more ignorant than many a peasant child. Not only general history, but that of her own family was almost unknown to her. She was not wanting in ability, but she had no wish to learn ; and her ignorance, which could not remain unnoticed, caused many persons in France to have a very poor opinion of her under- standing. But though she was so very deficient in knowledge, she had, on the contrary, great facility for adapting herself to the manners of society, and even as a child she astonished people by her pretty self-assurance, while she gained all hearts by her grace and friendliness. Both the Emperor and the Empress were fond of music, and as often as they could they spent their evenings in the large 4 Marie Antoinette. music room at Schonbrunn. Pianos and harps were ranged along the walls, and Gluck or Haydn played, or Metastasio read aloud, when the imperial children were frequently allowed to be present. It was on such an evening that Mozart made his entrance into the great world. Unaccustomed to the highly-polished floor, and dazzled by the lights, he fell, as he was advancing to bow before the Empress. The courtiers thought him clumsy, and smiled at his misfortune ; but no one went to his assistance, until the Archduchess Antonia hastened forward to raise and comfort the little man. As we have said, the cares of state prevented Maria Theresa from occupying herself in detail about her children; but she nevertheless liked to be looked upon as an anxious mother in the eyes of the world. If travellers of distinction came to Vienna the Empress invited them to the Castle, and on these occasions she showed herself in the bosom of her family. Then, from time to time, she liked the newspapers to insert notices about the abilities of the princes and princesses, and to know that people spoke of their goodness or cleverness. Her loyal subjects repeated with delight any pleasing stories told of the archduchesses. For instance, when Antonia, one winter's day, gave all her savings to the poor, the news spread from mouth to mouth, and all Austria could tell of the remark- able speeches which she and her sisters had made. It is true that they occasionally read speeches in Latin aloud, but the populace did not know that the girls understood not a word of what they were reading. For hundreds of years the reigning house of France had been obliged to defend her rights against the house of Habsburg, which, in possession of Austria, Spain, and Holland, surrounded her on three sides, and it had been the constant aim of all her kings to destroy this triple power. The people too were accustomed to consider Austria as their hereditary enemy. But by degrees the situation changed, for the conquests of Eichelieu and Mazarin, the victories, as well as the defeats, of Louis XV., Her Engagement. 5 had altered the map of Europe. The house of Habsburg had been driven from Spain for ever, and at the same time a new power, the house of Hohenzollern, had arisen in Germany. Signs too were not wanting that France and Austria wished to forget their hereditary feud. Maria Theresa's father, Charles VI., had made the first advance, and Cardinal Fleury, Prime Minister during the minority of Louis XV., did not appear unwilling to accept the proffered friendship. As for the young Empress, her hostility towards the King of Prussia made her eagerly desire the alliance; and during the war against France and Prussia she offered a separate peace to the former country, and upon this being accepted, she still continued her friendly advances. History relates that the highly moral Maria Theresa went so far in her zeal as to write a letter to the King's mistress, Madame de Pompadour, in which she called her " dear friend." The Empress has denied this assertion in a private letter. But that which she could not personally bring about was arranged by Count Kaunitz, her trusted counsellor. Although for a time nothing came of these preliminary courtesies, France showed herself by no means insensible to Austria's expressions of regard ; and in 1756 Louis XV. entered into the alliance with Maria Theresa, which gave rise to the Seven Years' "War. The Empress wished to retain in the future the ally she had now gained, and after peace was declared her ambitious and enterprising mind laid plans for a matrimonial union between the two royal houses. Louis XV. and his minister Choiseul were aware of her design, and Maria Theresa selected her youngest daughter as the future Queen of France, hoping that Maria Antonia's beauty would gain more power in France than her soldiers had hitherto been able to achieve. The union between the Austrian Archduchess and the Dauphin of France was arranged long before the engagement was announced. When Antonia was eleven years old the brilliant Madame Geoffrin visited Vienna and was most graciously received by 6 Marie Antoinette. the Empress, who introduced all her daughters to her, but Madame was especially struck with the beauty of the youngest. "What a charming child," she exclaimed. "I should like to take her away." "Take her with you," said Maria Theresa, delighted; "take her by all means." She let Madame Geoffrin clearly understand that it would please her if she would speak of the little one in the literary salons of Paris, and say how pretty she thought her. Madame Geoffrin fulfilled the wishes of the Empress with zeal, and in consequence the future Dauphiness and her charm- ing manners were discussed in the capital during the following winter. Louis XV. obtained information as to her progress through his ambassador, and a renowned artist was sent to Vienna to paint her portrait. As soon as it was finished the King was so intensely anxious to see it that the artist had to send his son with it to Versailles, in order that it might be delivered as rapidly as possible. Maria Theresa surrounded her daughter with everything that could contribute to prepare her for her new position. She had to wear her hair in the French fashion, and to study the language. A French actor was appointed to read to her, but as he was a man of bad character the choice greatly displeased the French court. The ambassador at Vienna was therefore requested to call the attention of the Empress to the reader, who was dismissed; and Maria Theresa begged that a priest might be sent to her court from France. On the recommendation of the Bishop of Toulouse, Abbe" Vermond was selected ; and immediately on his arrival in Vienna he made a plan for his lessons, which was sanctioned by the Empress. He wished to instruct the Archduchess in religion, and to give her an insight into the history and literature of France, in addition to paying especial attention to the language and orthography. But, in spite of his good intentions, the Abbe" was unable to awaken in her any desire to learn, and he writes in his Memoirs : — " It was quite impossible to induce the Archduchess to interest The Future Queen leaves her Home. J herself in any subject, although I feel convinced that she could have done so if only she had had the will to apply herself." Maria Antonia had not completed her tenth year when she lost her father. The Emperor was going to Innsbruck to be present at the marriage of his second son, and before he left home he desired that his daughter Antonia should come to him. " I felt a longing to embrace that child," he said with emotion, as he held her in his arms for the last time. A few days later he fell down dead at his son's wedding banquet. His sudden removal was a hard trial for his children, though still worse for his wife, whose previous troubles were quite cast into the shade by this unexpected blow. But even sorrow could not long depress the energetic Empress, who seems from this time to have had Maria Antonia frequently with her. She talked to her of the instability of thrones, and made her own shroud in the presence of the child. Then she took her down into the vault where former rulers were laid to rest. " The same honours are now paid to me that these enjoyed in their day," she said. "They are forgotten, and I shall share their fate." Maria Theresa was too clear-sighted and two accurately in- formed about the life of the French court to allow herself to be dazzled by the high position which awaited her child, and could not shut her eyes to the fact that the throne which the young Princess was to occupy was undermined and tottering already. She told her daughter about her own troubled youth, the thorny path by which she had approached the throne, and all the illusions that lay buried in her memory. This strong ruler wept over her persecutions and misfortunes, but especially over the loss of Silesia. Then, quite suddenly, she would take the child into her arms and exclaim : — "Think of me when misfortunes overtake you." At other times she would take her to visit hospitals and asylums to see the sick and orphans, and while she showed her all this misery she impressed upon her daughter that work faithfully done is the only thing that can give lasting peace and satisfaction. 8 Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette could not understand her mother's serious- ness, nor could she grasp the joy that inspired the Empress after the accomplishment of her duty. And the mother recalled that there had been a time when she too had longed for amusement and sought it, and that it was only through adversity that work had become dearer to her than anything else. Her daughter's thoughtless levity caused her no anger, possibly she did not even notice it till it was too late. She could not help being drawn towards this bright, lively child, whose faults were concealed by so much grace. Her departure from home drew near. The wedding was to take place in Versailles, but brilliant farewell banquets were given by both the Empress and the French ambassador in Vienna. In the midst of all these, in the apparently glowing prospect for the future which was opening out for the Archduchess as Queen of France in due course, there was a feeling of depression, both in herself and in all around her. Dr. Gassner, formerly a priest, who pretended he could see far into futurity, was at this time in Vienna. Maria Theresa patronised him and laughed at his prophecies, but at the same time she listened to them with interest. " Tell me," she asked one day, " will my daughter Antonia be happy?" Gassner looked earnestly at the young Princess, became pale, and would not reply. When the Empress pressed him, he said at length : — " Every shoulder has to bear a cross." During the interval before the wedding Maria Theresa could hardly look at her daughter without her eyes filling with tears. She had her bed brought into her own room, she took her on to her lap, kissed her fair hair and her eyes, talked to her of her future, and begged her not to forget Austria, because France was to become her home. "How glad I should be if I could keep you with me," said she, " but I sacrifice my own feelings for the good of Austria and for your happiness, which I trust is secured. "Write to me frequently. I shall weep over your letters. I cannot write like Madame de Sevignd, but I love you quite as dearly as she loved her daughter." The Future Queen leaves her Home. 9 The ceremonious offer of marriage had been made April 16th, 1770, through the French ambassador, le Marquis de Durfort, and the following day the Archduchess renounced all pretensions to the Austrian throne. The imperial document was signed at the Hofburg in Vienna, when the family, the court, the nobility, and the deputies filled the state-room and surrounded the throne. When all were assembled, the Empress entered with the young Princess. They were received in deep silence, and Maria Theresa was so overcome with emotion, and her hand shook so painfully, that she could hardly guide her pen to affix her signature. Then Marie Antoinette signed her name, deeply touched too at the thought of leaving her beloved home. She left Vienna April 21st. Her mother could hardly release her from her embrace, and sobs choked her voice, so that at last Antonia had to tear herself from her arms and hasten from the Castle, through crowds of friends and servants, to throw herself into the carriage, which had difficulty in forcing a way through the crowded streets. An eye-witness relates that "Austria's capital looked a perfect picture of sorrow." Sobs were heard everywhere, and all were inconsolable at the departure of the Princess. In one account of the period we have, "The whole city had come forth, at first in silent sorrow. Then she appeared lying back in the carriage, her face bathed in tears ; now covering her eyes with her handkerchief, now with her hands. Several times she put her head out of the carriage window and looked at her father's castle to which she was never to return, while expressing her sorrow and gratitude to the masses of people who crowded round her to say ' good-bye.' Then the populace broke forth, not into tears, but into a piercing shriek." Marie Antoinette was only fourteen, and she wept at the thought of what she was leaving, as well as the uncertainty of the future in this new phase of her life. CHAPTER II. Marie Antoinette's Journey — Her Reception in France- Wedding Festivities. Marie Antoinette's journey through Munich, Augsburg, and several other cities lasted a fortnight. Everywhere there were crowds curious to see the Austrian Archduchess who was to become Dauphiness of France, and all were charmed with her graciousness. As she crossed the frontier of the lands under her mother's rule she lost all self-control, exclaiming as she wept bitterly,' "I shall never see you again." At the French frontier, on a small island in the Ehine, a tent had been erected for the occasion, with one large partition and two smaller rooms, of which one was for the suite of the Archduchess from Vienna, the other for the French ladies who had come to meet her. Here the Princess had to allow herself to be entirely undressed. As she was entering her new country she had to put on the clothes which her future attendants had brought with them, and change even linen, shoes, and stockings. Her first lady-in-waiting, the Comtesse de Noailles, approached her and made three formal curtseys; but, lively and natural as she was, Marie Antoinette did not notice the stern appearance of the lady, but threw her arms round her neck, while she begged her to comfort her and to be her guide and friend. In the same moment the ladies who had accompanied her from Germany drew near to kiss her hand for the last time. She embraced them all, wept, and sent loving messages to her mother, her brothers and sisters, and her friends. Then she turned to the French ladies and said, "Forgive me; Her Reception in France. 1 1 these tears are for my family and the country I am leaving ; but from this moment I will not forget that I am French." The reception which she met with in Prance surpasses all description. As she had been loved in Germany, so on the other side of the Ehine all hearts turned towards her as she passed along. Fourteen years old, fair and refined, with the stamp of innocence on her brow, she conquered all hearts in spite of French prejudice against the house of Habsburg. Her grace and amiability called forth a perfect delirium of enthusiasm. Peasants came from every direction, and the roads were strewn with flowers, while girls in their smartest clothes offered her bouquets. Her carriage was surrounded, and when her face could be seen there was a cry as from one mouth : — " How lovely our Princess is ! " In Strasburg — the city which Louis XIV. had conquered — she was received by Louis XV.'s envoy-extraordinary, as she entered the fine old town, amid the thunder of cannon and the pealing of bells. Triumphal arches were erected in the streets through which she passed. The ladies of the city strewed flowers, or, dressed as shepherdesses, offered her fruit. Amusements were provided for the people, fountains flowed with wine, and gifts were distributed among the poor. A few miles from Chalons a village priest and his parishioners came to welcome the Archduchess. He had taken the Canticles of Solomon as a text for the speech he meant to make, but as soon as he saw her he was so overwhelmed with emotion and surprise that he never got beyond the first word. He taxed his memory again and again, looked up to the skies and down to, the tips of his boots, but could not recall an idea. Marie Antoinette noticed it and hid the laughter she could hardly control, while, to put an end to the poor man's confusion, she took his hand, and, with the sweetest and most graceful of smiles, accepted the bouquet which he was offering to her. Upon this the priest recovered, not his speech, but his presence of mind. "Madame," said he, gazing at her with admiration, "do not be surprised that my memory has failed me, for at the sight of so 12 Marie Antoinette. much grace even Solomon would have forgotten his 'Song of Songs/ and would have ceased to think of his lovely Egyptian." While she was thus nearing her journey's end amid rejoicings, but inward anxiety, the royal family had assembled in Compiegne in order to welcome her, and Louis XV. was especially excited at the thought of the meeting. No sooner did Marie Antoinette perceive him than she rushed from the carriage and threw herself at his feet. Louis looked at her with more curiosity than fatherly interest. He found her much more beautiful than he had expected, far lovelier than the picture which had been sent to him from Vienna He raised her and kissed her, while Marie Antoinette blushed under this mark of affection and the King's questioning looks. During all this time the Dauphin stood by his grandfather's side, much more embarrassed than his fiancie, uneasily moving his body backwards and forwards without finding a word to say to her. At last he allowed himself to follow the custom of the French court, and silently and coldly kissed her on the right cheek. Surrounded by shouting masses the royal procession drove from Compiegne to St. Denis. Here the Archduchess was in- troduced to the King's second daughter, who had retired into a Carmelite nunnery in that city, and from there they drove to " La Muette," where she was received by Clotilde and Elisabeth, the Dauphin's two young sisters, so that it was not till late in the evening that she reached Versailles. The following day, May 16th, the marriage was to take place. At ten o'clock in the morning the Princess entered the marble hall of the Castle, where she was met by both the King and the Dauphin; then, accompanied by their suite, they entered the chapel. Here, kneeling and much overcome, the young couple swore fidelity to each other at the foot of the altar. The marriage certificate had been previously signed, and the superstitious remarked and remembered that the bride had made a blot which effaced half of her name. The ceremony was hardly over when a fearful storm broke forth. Versailles was to have been illuminated, and the people of Wedding Festivities. 13 Paris had hastened thither to see the bridal procession, but the Bengal fire could not be lighted, and the illuminations were drowned in rain. The curious spectators, who were wandering through the Castle gardens and the streets, fled in the greatest disorder, pursued by perfect streams of water, lightning, and crashing thunder. In the interior of the Castle the royal festivities were pro- gressing, but even in these splendid halls there were signs that here also all was not bright. In order to do honour to Maria Theresa, Louis XV. had decided that the Princess of Lorraine, cousin to the Empress, and the only relation of the Dauphiness in France, should take precedence immediately after the royal princes and princesses, which greatly incensed the dukes and high nobility of Prance. Several duchesses were absent from the ball, while others obstinately refused to let the Princess of Lorraine dance before them, until a royal command forced them to obey; even then immediately after the dance they ordered their carriages and returned to Paris. A series of brilliant court festivities followed the wedding-day, and the elegant dresses, glittering ornaments, handsome carriages, richly furnished tables, and Bengal illuminations formed a sad contrast to the condition of the capital and the country, where the people were in want of bread. Nevertheless, they hastened every evening to Versailles in order to admire the four million lamps that were hung in the garden and park, and shone like stars in the clear spring night. The fetes lasted continuously for a fortnight, and it was not till the music was silent and the lights were extinguished that the nation realized that all these ceremonies had cost twenty million francs. The sum was to come out of the State coffers, and of course it was not yet paid. "What did you think of my entertainments ? " the King asked of his finance minister. It is asserted that the minister replied : — " I found them invaluable, Your Majesty." When Versailles had finished Paris wished to celebrate the marriage with a popular fete and a magnificent display of fire- works on the Place Louis XV. 14 Marie Antoinette. Unfortunately the necessary precautions were not taken, the Bengal fire was a failure, and the mob became uncontrollable. The police were absent, or inefficient, and the city guard, who were at hand, tried to maintain order, but could not restrain the crowd. Pickpockets, reaping a good harvest, added to the confusion, while a fire broke out, and the scaffolding round the statue of Louis XV. was burnt down. Many were trodden to death in the struggle, others were pushed into the river, numbers were wounded, and thirty-two dead bodies were found. The Dauphiness was driving to Paris to see the illuminations, and heard of the misfortune on the road. She at once gave all the money she possessed for distribution among the survivors, and the Dauphin was equally distressed with his wife at the accident which accompanied the last of their wedding festivities. He sent his income for a month to the prefect of police in Paris, and begged him to alleviate the distress. His example was followed by the other princes and many of the nobility. But a general depression reigned in the capital which simple beneficence could but slightly touch, and there were many who saw in this painful circumstance omens of the awful future in store. CHAPTER III. Court Life in Versailles — The Due de Vauguyon — The Daughters of Louis XV. — The Dauphin and his Diary. No court was ever more beset with conspiracies than the one into which Marie Antoinette had entered, where bitter party strife, low and foul intrigues, hatred, spite, and inordinate striving after power prevailed on all sides. Two parties were struggling for the upper 'hand at the French court in 1770. One, at this time the stronger, was that of the chief minister, Choiseul. The other was led by the chancellor, Maupeou, and the Comtesse de Marsan, gouvernante to the Dauphiness. To this same party belonged, moreover, the Due de Vauguyon, the Dauphin's incompetent tutor, and, finally, the King's mistress, Madame du Barry, whom Maupeou had induced to come over to his side, mainly because she could not forgive the proud, independent behaviour of Choiseul towards her. In addition to these principal parties were a number of smaller ones, of which the members were all, more or less, intriguing, false, and immoral. This life in Versailles, where men put their wives on one side for their mistresses, where wives thought it only natural to deceive their husbands, where the King himself set the very worst example, was indeed but a sad one into which to intro- duce a child of fifteen, who had never seen anything but what was good at home. Opinions, rules, life itself, all was different to what she had been accustomed to. People did not seem to worship the same God; she did not understand their conduct, and she was certainly not understood by them, so that it was indeed difficult for her to carry herself 15 1 6 Marie Antoinette. aright in this slippery path, where the least false step meant danger. Much as she may have wished to hold herself aloof from parties, it became impossible for her to - do so, and she was obliged to place herself on one side or the other. Her mother had advised her to attach herself to Choiseul's party, for, as it was he who had brought about her marriage, a feeling of gratitude alone required her to give him her, confidence. But this would have exposed her to the hatred and persecution of the opposite side, some of whom spoke ill of her and tried to destroy her popularity. Others — wiser in their generation — did their utmost to gain an influence over her, and she had not been a month in Versailles before she was surrounded by countless intrigues. The first step was to dismiss Abbe - Vermond, who had accom- panied her to France; afterwards the Comtesse de Noailles. A maidservant of very doubtful character was then put in close attendance, and even an untrustworthy father confessor was forced upon her. Not only was every effort made to turn Louis XV. against her, but also to keep her husband away from her. The Dauphin should have been her natural guide and pro- tector, but his own indecision of character kept him continually in leading strings. As a child his health was weak, and he was sent, under the charge of the Comtesse de Marsan, to Bellevue, where an entirely country life for many years restored him to health. His father, the only son of Louis XV., had died in 1769, so that young Louis was only fourteen when he became Dauphin, and about sixteen when he married. When Marie Antoinette came to Prance the credulous youth was still entirely ruled by his tutor, the Due de Vauguyon, who by no means meant to lose his influence, in spite of this change of circumstances. The teacher would not understand that his power ceased the day on which his pupil was married, and he did not shrink from even the most despicable means to plot against the Dauphiness. He maintained he had a right to enter their The Daughters of Louis XV. 17 presence at all hours, and placed Marie Antoinette's apartments as far away as possible from those of her husband. He questioned the servants, listened at her door, and accused her to the King. This continual spying went so far that Marie Antoinette became angry and impatient, and one day she said to Vauguyon : — " The Dauphin no longer requires a tutor, and I do not need a spy. I request, therefore, that you will not enter my presence again." With Louis XV. lived his three unmarried daughters — Adelaide, Victoria, and Sophia. As we have already said, a fourth daughter, Louisa, had left the court to retire to a poor nunnery, after naming her intention to the King alone. The veil which separated her from the world did not, however, completely shut it out from her knowledge. Cardinal Fleury, who had improved the financial system in the early part of the reign, had carried his economy so far as to persuade the King to allow his daughters to be brought up in a nunnery as ordinary boarders. In consequence the princesses did not know their alphabet at twelve years old, and they could not read fluently until after their return to Versailles, when the Dauphin interested himself in his sisters; and partly under his guidance, partly alone, they tried to make up for the defects of their cloister education. Princess Adelaide, the eldest, had the best abilities. In her youth she had been pretty, but all traces of beauty had com- pletely disappeared. She had awkward manners, a hard voice, and something masculine in her whole being which was not attractive. She had an insatiable desire to learn, and played all kinds of instruments, from a bugle to a Jew's harp. She studied the Italian and English languages, mathematics, clock-making, and carpentering. Although it was not quite usual at this period,' it is worthy of note that she wrote her own language well and correctly, and was, besides, well versed in the history of her country. She was the favourite child of Louis XV. Her active mind c 1 8 Marie Antoinette. made her long for a more prominent position, but hitherto she had had no scope for her powers. Ambitious and conscious of her rank, she suffered acutely at being treated as a cipher; but she would allow no contradiction, and avenged herself for the neglect which tortured her, by "pin-pricks," which she dealt right and left whenever she had the chance. Princess Victoria was prettier than her elder sister, and was naturally mild and good ; if she had had the courage to follow the dictates of her own heart she would probably have made the court much more comfortable than it was. But she was phlegmatic, not to say apathetic, and all the four princesses had but one will, that of Adelaide. Sophia, the youngest, had an unusually unprepossessing appear- ance, and she was painfully timid. In order not to see people, and yet to be able to recognize them, she had acquired a nervous side glance, which made her look like a hare, and she was so shy that one might pass years in her company without hearing her utter a word. And yet there were occasions when this peculiar princess could * become courteous and communicative, and that was during a thunderstorm! So great was her terror then that she went up to any person near, and if it lightened she pressed their hands, and when the thunder rolled she kissed the court ladies in her fright. But as soon as the weather changed her usual stiff demeanour returned, and again she would pass by her companions apparently without seeing them. It was not until a fresh storm roused her fears that her friendliness was again shown. After the death of their mother, Marie Leczinska, the princesses had for a time fulfilled the duties of hostess at the court. Enslaved in the toils of his mistress, the King saw comparatively little of his family. He went every morning by a secret staircase down to Princess Adelaide, sometimes carrying a cup of coffee, which he drank in her apartment. Then she rang a bell to let Victoria know that the King had come, and while the latter was hastening to her sister another bell summoned the Princess Sophia. The apartments of all three were large, and numbers of rooms had to be traversed before the daily meeting-place could be The Daughters of Louis XV. 19 reached. Although Sophia ran quickly, arriving tired and breathless, she had barely time to greet her father, who went hunting immediately on leaving Princess Adelaide's room. Every afternoon at six o'clock, both princes and princesses went to the King, accompanied by chamberlains, ladies-in-waiting, pages and lacqueys, carrying wax candles. This visit was strictly one of ceremony, and seldom lasted more than a quarter of an hour. The three princesses were devout but extremely narrow-minded in their religious views, and we are led to believe that they were not particularly amiable. They kept themselves in the back- ground, were awkward when they had to see people, and stood in great awe of their father. They did not know what they ought to do or to say; in short, they never understood the art of inspiring the respect to which, by their high birth, they were entitled. But in secret they were involved in all kinds of intrigues, and were all the more eager to make a show of possessing influence, as they had really none. They were not elderly, — Adelaide was thirty-eight when Marie Antoinette came to Versailles, — but they were old maids, and had all the weaknesses of the class: they were exacting, jealous, narrow, sensitive, and fond of scandal. But, in spite of their faults, it was natural that Marie Antoinette should try to be friendly with them, and before she left home her mother said to her : — " Keep close to your aunts, they are virtuous and accomplished, and you are fortunate in having them. I hope you will make yourself worthy of their friendship." Since the death of the late Dauphiness they had taken pre- cedence at court, but the arrival of Marie Antoinette gave them the second place, and it is undoubted that Adelaide, at least, looked with displeasure on this child, who was usurping her position. But, although full of secret hate, the aunts received the young Austrian with apparent friendship. We cannot believe that they acknowledged any duty towards this young niece, cast without guide or rudder on the stormy waves of court life at Versailles ; 20 Marie Antoinette. still less is it probable that they felt themselves under the influ- ence of her bewitching charm. It is far more likely that they attached themselves to her for their own ends. Jealous of the new star that had appeared on the court horizon, they watched their rival only to be able to injure her the more easily. A certain intimacy sprang up between Marie Antoinette and the elder ladies, the result of which was soon apparent. The princesses did not like public life, they lived in a little circle of their own, the very air of which was filled with ill- natured gossip ; and, although a stranger, Marie Antoinette was easily persuaded to take part in their disgraceful calumnies. Naturally bright, and ready to be amused at the ludicrous side of her companions, she did not weigh her words, but thought she was safe in this inner circle. Her fun was told to others and maliciously interpreted. It was said that she imitated persons in high positions behind their backs, and laughed in the face of others. The cheerfulness of the Dauphiness did not last long ; she was soon as embarrassed as her aunts, and did not dare to address a word to persons in a high position. She withdrew as much as possible from public duties, and when compelled to fulfil them she was painfully nervous. "The princesses are not content with influencing the Dauphiness in things which concern her personally," the Austrian Ambassador once wrote to Maria Theresa, "they extend their control over those in her service. They treat her prerogatives with contempt,, and ignore the marked difference of rank that ought to exist between their household and that of the Dauphiness." The mother became alarmed at this undue influence, and wrote to her daughter : — " I hear in all my letters that you only do what your aunts tell you. I esteem them, but they have never been able to command respect, either in their own family or in the nation, and you seem, to be following in their footsteps." Maria Theresa proudly drew a comparison between the con- sideration she had had in her life and the insignificance of the French princesses. "Does my affection, my counsel, deserve less respect than theirs ? I confess this thought distresses me greatly. Think of: The Daughters of Louis XV. 21 the reception they have met with in the world, and — it costs me an effort to say it — what a part I have played ! You must trust me all the more if I advise you to act differently from them. I do not compare myself with these worthy princesses, whom I esteem for their sterling qualities ; but, I must repeat it again and again, they have not understood how to make themselves respected by their people, or beloved by a single person. By their ultra good nature and submission to others they have become unpleasant, uncomfortable, and wearisome to themselves and others, as well as a centre for intrigue and gossip. Am I to be silent if I see you treading the same path ? I love you too much to be able, or willing, to do so. Your obvious silence on the subject grieves me very much, and gives but little hope that you will alter your conduct." But a change did come. By degrees Marie Antoinette began to see that her mother was right. She could not all at once burst the bonds which her youth and isolated position had helped to form, and which daily life had strengthened, but her confidence was shaken. Eespect and habit made her attentive to the advice of the princesses, though in the course of a year or two their influence became weakened, and when she yielded to them it was from politeness or fear. The elder ladies did not bear with complacency their loss of power over their niece, and began to criticise her in public, instead of only in private as formerly. So great was their zeal to find causes of complaint that they appealed to the King because she had one day come to them without ceremony and in shabby clothes. Louis XV. made her understand that such neglect of court ceremony was injurious to the respect due to the princesses, adding that her parsimony would render her unpopular among the French tradesmen. ■ "My court dresses," replied Marie Antoinette, "shall be as elegant as those of any previous dauphiness or queen of France, if such is the wish of Your Majesty ; but I beg my dear grand- father to be indulgent about my morning gowns." Then the aunts tried to excite the whole court against her, 22 Marie Antoinette. turning the tiniest detail into a slander. They brought about a quarrel between Abb^ Vermond and the governess of the royal princesses, Madame Marsan, which caused a great sensation. Princess Adelaide maintained that her nieces had received a much better education than the Austrian archduchesses. Thanks to their convent bringing up, she said, the French princesses were bodily strong, while the Austrian archduchesses, who were accus- tomed to idleness, and had none but worldly interests, were thin and shrivelled, poor both in mind and body. Adelaide was right in so far as both her sisters, and one of her nieces, were much fatter than Marie Antoinette. Princess Clotilde's stout figure had gained her the nicknames of " the fat princess " and " the little pig." The Princess Elisabeth, renowned in later years for her piety and devotion, was only six when her brother married, and as a child she was noted for her impetuosity, disobedience, and idleness. But Marie Antoinette had still other faults : she was too lively and fond of fun ! Child as she was she refused to wear stays, sometimes she omitted to clean her teeth; she liked to laugh and whisper in the ears of the young ladies at court; she would not listen to the requests of her waiting -women, ruined her clothes, and irritated all about her by her want of order. The malicious conduct of her aunts was a continual hindrance to the daughter of Maria Theresa; for, when they found it impossible to rule her as Dauphiness, they determined to injure her as Queen of Prance, and unfortunately gained their end only too well. Their influence had been pernicious, their hatred was fatal, and at the Castle of Bellevue, where the princesses lived during the reign of Louis XVI., there was always a warm welcome for anyone who could tell a compromising story about Marie Antoinette, whom Adelaide pursued through life with bitter hatred. The Queen's enemies knew they had a friend in the Princess, whose house was a centre for all intrigues against Her Majesty. It was Adelaide who gave her the nickname of " the Austrian," The Daughters of Louis XV. 23 and a large number of libels which had been sent broadcast over the land to injure her character could be traced to Bellevue. When the court attendants were leaving to meet the Arch- duchess at the frontier, one of the ladies had sought Adelaide in order to enquire if she had any orders to give. The Princess replied shortly : — " Even if it were in my power to give orders, I should certainly not send a message to an Austrian." One day later on, when Marie Antoinette had shown a firmness her aunts had not suspected in her, the Princess observed ill- naturedly : — " It is easy to see that you are not a member of our family." Years before his marriage Aunt Adelaide had exercised great influence over young Louis, whom she had solaced in his lonely childhood and loved almost like a mother, and when he became King, Louis retained a very high respect for her opinion and judgment. She represented to him the dangers that might arise from a union with Austria, and revived half-dormant family recollections, telling him about his father, who had been put down and treated as a child by the minister Choiseul. She hinted to her nephew an old report that his father's death was caused by poison, and prompted the suspicion that Choiseul had had something to do with it. The influence of the tutor Vauguyon had originally separated Louis from his bride, but it was the work of his aunt that Marie Antoinette remained his wife in name only for seven years. Long after, when Louis had changed from the indifferent husband to the submissive and devoted lover, the Queen said to him : — " Your aunts are still trying to set you against me ; it is they who would dictate your very words." The lonely country life which Louis had led in his childhood and early youth had made him timid, awkward, and diffident. He would have preferred to remain Due de Berry all his life, and replied with sobs to the first congratulations upon becoming Dauphin. He had no intercourse with the outer world, and people took no notice of him, except to contrast his life with that of the 24 Marie Antoinette. courtiers of Versailles, where he was completely ignored by his grandfather. His great physical strength called for bodily exercise, which made him take to manual labour. He had a tower built and fitted up as a smithy, so that the odour of the workshop, not that of the court, pervaded his whole person and his grimy hands. Madame du Barry called him "that fat, ill- mannered boy." Count Mercy-Argenteau, the Austrian Am- bassador, relates that he was nearly always busy at the forge, doing mason's work, or carting materials, and that he left his occupation bathed in perspiration, and looking as exhausted as if he had just come from a battlefield. Courtiers overlooked the stingy, silent prince, who had no thought for beauty; but the people called him "their darling," and during his country walks he liked to visit the peasants, chat with them, and shake hands. Having two brothers who possessed more shining qualities than himself, he was not slow to notice that they were treated with far more deference than he was, and this depressed him, making him more shy and irresolute than he was by nature. Pained by these continual slights he soon became bitter, and as a child he was often found crying, while his brothers and sisters were playing around him. " I want somebody to love," he would exclaim with his eyes full of tears ; " there is nobody here that cares for me." And once, when a man from some country district made him a speech and praised him, he answered hastily : — " You are mistaken, it is not I who have these talents but my brother, the Comte de Provence." It was in such moments as these that his aunt Adelaide had come forward, taken him to her heart, and laid the foundation for the intimate, confidential intercourse between them. Louis was upright ; he loved the people, but he was wanting in the firmness which inspires respect. His goodness often became weakness, his candour made him violent in speech, and his jokes were generally coarse. This scion of kings was never anything but a boor. He was short and clumsy. His head was well formed, and he carried it well ; but his large puffy cheeks, and his dull, protrud- The Dauphin. 25 ing, near-sighted eyes made him look irresolute and stupid, while his uncertain gait and general shy appearance tended to deepen the impression. His voice was hard when it was not shrill ; his hair stuck out on all sides, as he had a habit of incessantly running his fingers through it ; he was generally seen with dirty clothes and black hands ; and, moreover, he was entirely wanting in those personal advantages one expects to find in the descendant of an old and noble race. He avoided women, their society was a worry to him, and when his feelings were at last roused towards her who was chosen to share his destiny, his love was barely strong enough to master his shyness. " He is not like others," Louis XV. said of him, and a courtier called him, not without cause, "the best, but not the most attractive man in the kingdom." At the wedding banquet he was eating with his usual inor- dinate appetite, when his grandfather could not refrain from saying, " Do not overload your stomach." "Why not?" asked the Dauphin, "I always sleep best after a good supper." The bridal pair retired, and he accompanied his young wife to the door of her room, where he remained standing, bowed, and politely wished her " Good-night." Then he hastened away, as if she had inspired him with disgust. They met at breakfast the next morning, when he said, " I hope you have slept well." "Very well," answered the Dauphiness, "not a soul came to disturb me." This somewhat singular beginning of their married life was discussed with additions and much laughter at the court of Louis XV, and the tinge of ridicule which the circumstance cast over the Dauphin never left him as Louis XVI. His faulty education, combined with the Princess Adelaide's unwholesome influence, were the real causes of his reserve towards Marie Antoinette; but in Versailles it was entirely attributed to his dislike to a marriage with a princess of the house of Austria. His wife, who had no other advantage from her title than that of seeing her husband eat and drink voraciously, even to excess, 26 Marie Antoinette. felt herself hurt at coldness, the cause of which she could not understand. It was but scant consolation for her to be told that the Dauphin had declared himself quite satisfied with her, and had said that he thought her pretty. How little Marie Antoinette occupied his thoughts can be seen in Louis' diary for the week in which his marriage took place : — Sunday, May 13th [1770]: " Left Versailles. Supped and slept at Monsieur de Saint Florentin's, in Compiegne." Monday, May 14th : "Met the Archduchess." Tuesday, May 15th : " Supped at La Muette, slept at Versailles;" Wednesday, May 16th: "My wedding. A party in the gallery. Royal banquet in the theatre." Thursday, May 17th: "Opera — Perseus." Friday, May 18th : " Stag-hunting. Big field at Belle-Image. Shot one." Saturday, May 19th: "Ball in the theatre. Illuminations." The first month after his wedding winds up with the following observation in his diary : " I have had the stomach-ache." CHAPTER IV. Marie Antoinette's First Introduction into the great World — How the Dau- phiness Spent her Day — The Comte and Comtesse de Provence — The Comte and Comtesse d'Artois — Theatricals and Dancing. In spite of the plots and intrigues which so many persons were weaving round Marie Antoinette, her early days in France were far from unhappy. The King felt his youth renewed for a moment at the sight of this pretty, innocent child, whose presence brought a breath of purity into the vitiated air of the court. He noticed that she was too lively and too childish, but still he thought it natural at her age. He loaded her with presents and gave her a set of diamonds on her arrival, besides a casket full of ornaments on her wedding-day. Later on he gave her the pearls and diamonds which had belonged to the late Dauphiness, together with a necklace which Anne of Austria used to wear. The people were infatuated by her friendliness and gracious manners, and the members of her household felt themselves flattered by the consideration which she showed them. Old courtiers were charmed with her, and Choiseul left her, after long interviews, completely enraptured. But the Austrian Ambassador, Count Mercy-Argenteau, who knew the manner of life at Versailles and understood the Trench character, was not blind, and he knew that even this warm reception might be the precursor of danger. A few months after her arrival he wrote to the Empress: "We must not let ourselves be dazzled by this welcome, which she deserves, but remember that with this frivolous, lively people, and at a court so full of intrigue, it is far easier to gain popularity at first than to maintain it afterwards." 27 28 Marie Antoinette. She had far too many persons about her whose interest it was to injure her, and her own personal charms were too striking not to be dangerous. From the first, without reflection and without reticence, she did not hide her feelings nor weigh her words. The spontaneous frankness which was one of her charms was also a source of trouble to her. Her easily- won confidence exposed her to gossip and slander, while her good heart made her the dupe of all who sought her favour. The following letter which Marie Antoinette wrote to her mother, June 12th, 1770, gives a description of how she passed her day : — "Your Majesty is kind enough to be interested in me, and writes to know how I spend my time. I will therefore say that I get up at half-past nine or ten o'clock, and after I am dressed I say my first morning prayer. Then I breakfast before going to my aunts, where I generally meet the King — this visit lasts till half-past ten. At eleven o'clock my hair is dressed, and at twelve the courtiers are called in and anybody is admitted, except common people. I rouge myself and wash my hands in their presence ; then the gentlemen leave, and the ladies remain while I finish my dressing. In the middle of the day there is divine service, and when the King is at Versailles I go with him, my husband, and my aunts to hear mass. If he is not there I go with the Dauphin alone, but always at the same hour. Then we two dine in public. This only lasts about half an hour, as we both eat very fast. Then I go to the Dauphin's rooms, or, if he is busy, I return to my own apartments, where I read, write, or work. I am making a waistcoat for the King, which does not get on very fast ; but I hope, with God's grace, it will be finished in the course of a few years. At three o'clock I go again to my aunts, and often find the King with them. At four o'clock the Abbe" comes to me, and every day at five a music or singing master, who stays till six. At half-past six I nearly always return to my aunts, unless I go for a walk, when, you must know, my husband generally accompanies me. From seven to nine we play cards, unless the weather is fine, when I am out, and they play without me, at my aunts', instead of in my apart- How she Spent her Day. 29 ments. We have supper at nine o'clock, and, if the King is present, my aunts come to us ; hut if he is away, we go to them — we generally wait for the King till a quarter to eleven. "While we are waiting I lie on a large sofa and sleep till the King comes ; but, if he does not appear, we go to bed at eleven. This is our whole day." It was a life filled with petty social duties, but empty, void of any serious occupation. She had barely time to write to her , mother, and was often obliged to do so while being dressed. If a few minutes to fulfil this filial duty were not to be had, it is clear that she found still less time for her own education, which was far from complete, as we know, and which she had certainly not the least wish to improve, to the great grief of Maria Theresa. The mother felt too late that she had not sufficiently watched over her daughter's education, and she wished Marie Antoinette to make up for all deficiencies now. She begged for precise information about the daily employment of her time, and desired that an account might be sent to her at regular intervals. This request caused much embarrassment to Marie Antoinette, whose dislike to reading, and easy yielding to pleasure, had continually led her to neglect the lessons which were appointed in the crowded programme of her daily life. Not that she was literally idle, but it might happen that while she was reading she had a sudden desire to go out if she saw the sun was shining ; or she preferred to listen to what one or another was saying, and which had nothing to do with the study on hand; or she would begin to run about and play with her lap-dog. She therefore did not know how to reply to her mother. Too frank and honourable to tell a lie, it was none the less a great effort to her to say what was true. Maria Theresa repeated her request again and again, sometimes writing with a severity which was not always justifiable. One day she wrote to her : — " Try and fill your mind with good reading ; do not neglect to turn this sort of learning to good account; it is more useful to you than anything else, doubly so because you are not accom- plished in any way. You are no musician, you cannot draw nor 30 Marie Antoinette. paint, nor dance, nor are you possessed of any special talent, which makes me revert again and again to your reading, and I desire you to order Abbe Vermond to send me each month a report of what you have done, and a plan of your future work." This letter was too severe, and missed its mark. Marie Antoinette felt deeply hurt. " The Empress will make people think I am a goose," she said, as she showed her teacher the letter her mother had written; though, after she had become calmer, she added: — " I will write to the Empress and say that it is not possible for me to study regularly during the carnival, but that I will begin to be more industrious in Lent. That is true, is it not ? " " Yes," answered the Abbe\ " provided you really mean it." In the meantime Maria Theresa was not to be appeased with promises, and in her next letter she returned to the charge : — "I am expecting with impatience, and by return of post, the report of your reading and industry. It is allowable to amuse one's self, especially at your age. But to make pleasure an occupation, to do nothing serious or useful, to kill time with walks and visits, alas ! my child, in the long run you will learn how empty such a life is, and you will bitterly regret that you did not employ your time more profitably. I must call your attention to the fact that your letters become more and more incorrect and badly written. You ought to have improved in the course of ten months. I felt quite humiliated when I saw the letters you had written to some ladies at court pass from one to another. You must write copies, so that your handwriting may become better and more regular." The neglect of fixed occupation was far from being the only reproach which Maria Theresa addressed to her daughter. The very air wafted towards her from home was full of reprimands, and motherly care was watching over her in everything. Between the lines of her mother's letters the Dauphiness seemed to see the anxious furrowed brow of the Empress, and, in spite of all severity, she was thirsting to see her again, and wept each time she saw the familiar handwriting. Maliciously persecuted, surrounded by spies, married without being a wife, The Comte and Comtesse d'Ariois. 31 alone in the midst of a scandalous court, without support, without a soul in whom she could confide, her thoughts reverted to her mother a thousand times with love and tenderness. The year after Marie Antoinette's arrival in France the Dauphin's brother, the Comte de Provence, married the elder daughter of the King of Piedmont, and the following year the Comte d'Artois married her younger sister. These three couples thus formed a little circle of their own, apart from the disgraceful pleasures of the King and his mistress. They led a quiet life without exciting much attention. The Comte de Provence, who was the intellectual head of the family, was not on the best of terms with the Dauphin, and never forgave him for being the firstborn, and thus heir to the throne. The Comtesse, too, would have had the precedence if her husband had been Dauphin, and she could never conceive how it was that an Austrian archduchess had been chosen for Louis before a princess of the house of Savoy. So Marie Antoinette was quite justified in feeling but little confidence towards her and her husband, although she was apparently on good terms with them. The Comtesse d'Artois was more good-natured than her sister, simple in her habits, and modest of character.. She has, moreover, been described as a little goose, whose only merit consisted in providing the house of Bourbon with heirs. So insignificant was she that once, when she was dangerously ill, the remark was made : — " The day of her funeral will be the first on which she attracts any attention." Chivalrous and gay, but thoughtless, given to gambling, and too fond of pretty women, the Comte d'Artois was the leading spirit in every amusement. He enjoyed life in Paris and Versailles, on horseback, at the card table, and at court and theatrical balls, imitating at every point the vicious life of his grandfather. But the Dauphin preferred his thoughtlessness to his other brother's calculating reserve. In these early days Marie Antoinette received a great deal of attention from her younger brother-in-law, whose lively taste and disposition were in accordance with her own. In order to bring 32 Marie Antoinette. a little variety into their monotonous life, Marie Antoinette, the two brothers-in-law and their wives, took to acting plays, while the Dauphin, lolling in an easy chair, represented the audience. He yawned from sheer weariness if all went well, but if the actors did not know their parts he became attentive, and began to laugh and enjoy himself. His loud snoring during the performance one day warned the young players of the effect their efforts had upon him, and this want of interest did not fail to rouse the wrath of Marie Antoinette. "If you do not like our acting," she exclaimed angrily, "go away, and your money shall be returned to you." But the actors took their revenge on him for his lack of artistic perception. The Dauphin, who looked upon dancing as hard work, had one evening summoned up courage to dance a quadrille, and emerged from this sort of bath steaming with perspiration, besides having made so many mistakes that he was requested not to think of dancing again until he had had some practice. He began, therefore, to study the art with closed doors, and ordered that on no account was anybody to be allowed an entrance. So His Eoyal Highness hopped about and around, while the perspiration streamed down his flabby cheeks. But in the midst of his exertions he was disturbed by a sudden sharp sound, and, looking up, he saw his younger brother in a gallery whistling and laughing to his heart's content. The Dauphin was very angry and shook his fist at the dis- respectful observer, but he continued his exercise. A few hours later he met the Comte d'Artois in another part of the Castle, and, presuming on his privilege as the eldest, boxed his ears. His brother returned the blow, and Marie Antoinette, who had hastened forwards, tried to separate the combatants, getting scratched for her pains in the heat of the dispute. But the two brothers were soon reconciled. The Dauphin continued his efforts to learn dancing, but the theatricals had to be abandoned, as the aunts, the ladies-in-waiting, and Abbd Vermond had found out what was going on. CHAPTER V. The Dauphiness and Madame du Barry — Maria Theresa's Correspondence with her Daughter. Princess Adelaide was not the only one to whom the union with the house of Austria had proved distasteful. It had been discussed with great coolness in France, and the arrival of Marie Antoinette, was looked forward to without joy ; and it was only when people saw how frank, childlike, pretty, and bright she was that they took to her, and considered Madame de Pompadour less culpable than they thought for yielding to the temptation of this alliance with Maria Theresa. Choiseul, too, was less loudly blamed for his zeal in promoting the marriage. But it was not so easy to pacify the different court parties, and those usually holding opposite views — the French princesses and the King's mistress — joined in disapproving of the union,, because it had been brought about by Choiseul. Louis XV., who, as we know, allowed himself to be ruled by his mistresses, had, after the death of Madame de Pompadour, fallen under the influence of a woman of notoriously bad character, known in history as Madame du Barry. "With health shattered by evil living he had crowned his long list of scandals by raising a woman from the very lowest dregs of society — Jeanne B&u, nicknamed "The Angel" — to the rank of countess, and a residence in the royal castle. When Marie Antoinette came to the court the King was almost a helpless tool in the hands of his mistress, who formed one of the first obstacles in the path of the Dauphiness in her new home. The very first evening she spent with the royal family she had to sup before the eyes of the public at the same table with this ill-famed woman. n 33 34 Marie Antoinette. The young Princess felt deeply hurt, and her purity revolted against the indecencies to which the King's weakness was ex- posing her, though she did not openly express her displeasure on this occasion. After supper one of the courtiers tried to entrap her hy asking her how she liked Madame du Barry. "I think she is good-looking," answered Marie Antoinette straightforwardly. That was the first and one of the last times that she was cautious in her expressions. The Countess was not malicious, rather good-natured, and by no means vindictive; but she was intensely vain, and longed for respect and deference, perhaps all the more because she knew she was not entitled to them. This woman of bad character had longed to be introduced into society, and her wish was gratified when she saw princes, dukes, ambassadors, and ministers in her rooms. Then, on the arrival of the Austrian Archduchess, she had expressed the desire to sup with the descendant of so many emperors, and her royal lover had had the cowardly grace to comply with her request. From her very first entrance into France Marie Antoinette had found herself side by side with this "stupid, impudent creature," as she called her. She had met her the first evening at La Muette, then at Compiegne, and at Versailles on every conceivable occasion. She could not bring herself to show the least favour to the Countess, nor condescend to speak a word to such a vicious woman. The Dauphin had the same repulsion against his grand- father's mistress, and hid it no better than his wife. Madame du Barry became alarmed at this hostile attitude, and her friends, who had nothing in the world to hope for from the Dauphiness, did all that lay in their power to injure her. They saw she had a strong will in spite of her youth, and they feared, when aided by her personal advantages, her mother's counsel, and the support of Choiseul, she would gain influence over the King, which might prove dangerous to the other side. The question of Austrian influence was mooted, and it was resolved to prevent it by the downfall of the minister. Madame du Barry. 35 The King was incited by his mistress, who, after many vain attempts, was able to procure the dismissal of Choiseul. His successor, the Due d'Aiguillon, obeyed her to the letter; and the two plotted together against the Dauphiness, whose position had indeed become a difficult one. With hii-j minister on one side and his mistress on the other the King listened incessantly to complaints and accusations against Marie An- toinette, whom he treated with coldness and indifference, in spite of his show of friendship at first. Louis XV. was fond of his children and grandchildren, but his love was a very selfish one, and provided they allowed him free scope with reference to his pleasures and debaucheries he granted them perfect liberty. He detested family scenes, and when he had listened to the accusations of Madame du Barry against the Dauphiness he did not seek an explanation from her herself, but sent for one of her ladies. He began the conversation by praising the character and grace of Marie Antoinette, but complained of her freedom of speech with reference to what she believed to have noticed at court. The lady returned to her royal mistress, and she hastened to the King, who could not resist her child-like charm. He em- braced her and kissed her hands, agreeing with her, too, when she complained of her detractors ; so that for this time they were foiled. < After this visit to the King she felt strong to combat with fresh weapons against any new insinuations of her enemies. But she was still ruled by the elder princesses, who did their utmost to keep her away from the King, and even her modest behaviour towards a man so susceptible to youth and beauty only gave rise to fresh intrigues. New accusations and complaints were continually being made to shake the confidence of Louis XV. in her. One day — it was July 28th, 1771 — the Austrian Ambassador was summoned to the apartments of Madame du Barry, where the King wished to speak to him. Although surprised at such a request, which seemed to him an excuse to entice him into the mistress's apartments, the Ambassador took good care to obey. 36 Marie Antoinette. He was received by Madame du Barry, who first of all assured him of her friendship, and then confided to him what was sorely troubling her. "People are making use of the most abominable slander to alienate from me the esteem of the Dauphiness," she said ; " she does not let a day pass without treating me with contempt." The Ambassador replied that he knew nothing about it. In the midst of the conversation the door opened and Louis XV. entered. " Hitherto," said the King, " you have been Ambassador to the Empress of Austria. I now beg you to become mine, at least for a while." Then he began to complain of the Dauphiness. He thought her attractive ; but, young and lively as she was, and married to a man who was unable to guide her, it was impossible for her to escape pitfalls. She exposed herself to prejudice and uncalled-for hatred. It was striking how badly she treated some persons whom the King had made his intimates \ and such behaviour produced a party spirit at court. " Visit the Dauphiness frequently," he continued ; " I authorise you to repeat to her what you like from me. Somebody is giving her bad advice, which she certainly must not follow." Count Mercy was too devoted to Marie Antoinette, and saw too clearly through the net of intrigues that was woven around her to delay acquainting her with the words of the King. He advised her to adopt a decided course. If she wished it to be understood that she was aware of the position of Madame du Barry at court, her dignity required that she should request the King to forbid this woman to enter her drawing-room. If,, on the contrary, she allowed it to appear that she did not understand the footing on which the mistress stood, she must treat her as she would any other lady who was introduced at court, and address a few words to her when an opportunity arose. The advice caused some excitement among those in attendance on the Dauphiness, who, in spite of her mother's warnings, was still led by the Princess Adelaide. Besides, as she had such an intense aversion to Madame du Barry, she felt she could not The Dauphiness and Madame du Barry. 37 bring herself to speak to her. "My aunts do not wish it," she explained. But, persuaded by Count Mercy, and in a measure by her husband, she was at last induced to yield a little, and it was arranged that at one of the court receptions the Ambassador should enter into a conversation with the mistress, when the Dauphiness should join in with a few words. The evening came, and all was going smoothly. Mercy went up to Madame du Barry as Marie Antoinette began her tmrnie, round the room. She had already reached the spot where the Countess was standing when her aunt Adelaide, who had not lost sight of her for a moment, suddenly raised her voice and said — " It is high time for us to go. Come ! " The Dauphiness lost her self-possession when she heard this harsh voice, and in her confusion hurried away, so that nothing came of the advance that had been planned. The King was much displeased, and his mistress felt affronted. "Your advice has no effect," Louis said to the Austrian Ambassador; "I shall be obliged to help you." Mercy became anxious ; he was afraid the King's wrath would lead him to some unfortunate step, and, to prevent this, he appealed to Maria Theresa, and forcibly entreated her to interfere. The Empress at this juncture was negotiating with Prussia and Eussia about the first partition of Poland. Her magnani- mous character revolted against taking part in a political scheme which, as she expressed it, " was a stain upon her whole reign " ; and while Count Kaunitz and her son Joseph were trying to persuade her, she persistently wished to defer the deed. A fresh alliance between Prance and Austria seemed to her the only means of bringing this about, and made it necessary for her to encourage Marie Antoinette to be very conciliatory towards the party now in the majority. Hitherto she had not named Madame du Barry to her daughter, but now she suddenly overwhelmed her with reproaches, and expressed opinions contradictory to her character, for she was generally most zealous in inculcating high principles of morality. " Overcome this reluctance, this fear of saying good-day," she 38 Marie Antoinette. wrote to her daughter. " A simple word about a gown, or some other unimportant thing, seems to cause you to shrink with disgust. You have allowed yourself to be cowed to such an extent that neither reason nor duty has the power of convincing you. I can no longer keep silence. After all that my Ambassa- dor has said to you about the King's wishes in this respect you dare to refuse obedience. What reason can you allege as your excuse? None! You must not see Madame du Barry with other eyes than as a lady who is received at court, and is on intimate terms with the King. You are the first among his subjects, and owe him obedience. It is your duty to set a good example to all at court, and to see that your sovereign's will is carried out. If anything wrong, or even familiarity, were required of you, neither I nor anyone else would counsel you to yield. But a simple word, a little consideration — not for the lady, but for your grandfather, your sovereign, your benefactor. You so obviously refuse to please him the very first opportunity when you could render him a service, and such an opportunity will not so easily recur." " If Your Majesty could possibly see what goes on here," Marie Antoinette wrote in reply to her mother, " you would understand that the said lady and her set would certainly not be satisfied with a word or two, and I should be continually called upon to enter into conversation. I do not say that I will never speak to her, but I will not do so by appointment some fixed day and hour, so that she may tell her friends beforehand, and rejoice in her triumph.'' Madame du Barry possessed all the impudence belonging to the class from which she had sprung. At the wedding of the Comte d'Artois she had behaved in the same scandalous manner as at that of the Dauphin, and dined with the whole royal family. On the latter occasion she wore jewels to the value of five million francs. During the evening reception in the King's apartments she carried her effrontery so far as to seat herself by the side of the Dauphin. She called upon the Dauphiness repeatedly. " If only the Empress could see her behaviour she would excuse me," said Marie Antoinette ; " no patience can put up with it." Maria Theresa's Correspondence. 39 Instead of counselling her daughter with wisdom, Maria Theresa continued to write her angry, imperative letters. In order to appease her the Dauphiness at length let a word drop which might seem to be addressed to Madame du Barry. The Austrian Ambassador was much pleased, but his delight was of short duration. " I have spoken to her once," said Marie Antoinette, " but I am firmly resolved never to speak to her again. That creature shall not hear the sound of my voice." It had already been an immense effort to her to speak this once to a being whom she so utterly despised, and she thought that both her mother and the Ambassador ought to be satisfied with the sacrifice she had made. "I do not doubt," she wrote on this subject to her mother, "that Mercy has told you about my behaviour on New Year's Day, and I trust that Your Majesty is satisfied with me. Believe me that I will always put my own prejudice or antipathy on one side if only I am not required to do anything shameful or dis- honouring. It would make my life miserable if contention were to arise between our families. My heart is continually with you, so that in such a case it would indeed be difficult to fulfil my duties here. I shudder at the thought, and trust that nothing will ever destroy our unity, but especially that I shall not be the cause of any estrangement." Maria Theresa saw in these words a pretext for her daughter's disobedience, and replied, not without bitterness : — "Can you imagine that my Minister and I would give you advice inconsistent with either honour or propriety? "What interest can I possibly have but in what concerns the well-being of your country, the Dauphin, and yourself? "Who can advise you better, or deserve your confidence in a higher degree, than my Minister, who thoroughly understands the State and those who are guiding it ? " The Empress reminds Marie Antoinette that, as she cannot create happiness for herself — either by her countenance, which is not particularly pretty; nor by talents, which she certainly does not possess — she dare only look forward to comfort in her life by being a good German woman, and rejoicing in the fact. 40 Marie Antoinette. In these letters one is always conscious of a ruler, never of a mother, who might rather be tempted to spoil her child than to attempt to coerce her. In Versailles the Dauphiness was blamed for thinking too much of Vienna, while the court there accused her of forgetting the home of her childhood. Her mother and Count Mercy strove in vain to make her give up her hostile conduct towards the King's mistress, and the Due d'Aiguillon, too, urged her to treat her with less contempt. Even the Princess Adelaide, who was beginning to make common cause with the other side, tried to force her niece to tread in her footsteps, but in vain. Neither French influence nor appeals from home could change her feelings towards Madame du Barry. Even when the mistress seized an opportunity of introducing a newly-married relation at court the Dauphiness would neither speak to her, nor to the bride, her niece. And when Princess Adelaide attempted to influence her Marie Antoinette replied: "Aunt, I advise you to keep aloof from dAiguillon's intrigues; he is a bad man." CHAPTEE VI Entrance of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette into Paris — Louis XV. dies. The generality of people in France took but little notice of the enmity between the Dauphiness and Madame du Barry, though it created a lively interest at court, and a few of the newspapers filled their columns with accounts of it, more or less true. The populace was dazzled by the beauty of the Princess who had come to live among them, just when they hardly knew who there was that could be the object of their traditional love to the Koyal house. They heartily accepted her, and as yet believed in her virtue and goodness. She was the bright star to whom all eyes were turned. It was the custom for the Dauphin and Dauphiness to make a solemn entry into the capital on some fixed day, but on account of these innumerable plots and intrigues it had been delayed from month to month, from year to year, though when Louis and Marie Antoinette came at last in the summer of 1773 the popular enthusiasm was unbounded. Such crowds lined the streets that the gala coach could hardly force its way. The streets were decorated with flowers and triumphal arches, which gave a festive look to the whole city, while the air rang with wild, enthusiastic shouts. People rushed towards the carriage, seized the hands of Marie Antoinette and kissed them, almost coming to blows for the honour of touching her. They over- whelmed her with blessings and good wishes, and did not seem to tire of looking at her and listening to her voice, They clapped their hands, waved their handkerchiefs, and threw their hats into the air ; while for each individual Marie Antoinette had a smile, a greeting, or a beaming look from her beautiful eyes. 4i 42 Marie Antoinette. " You are glad to see us," she said to those who were surround- ing her carriage ; " we, too, rejoice to see you." "Les dames de la Halle," who had gone to meet the young couple and offer their congratulations, were invited to lunch in the concert hall of the Tuileries; and, in addition, the entire Castle and gardens were filled with people. As the Dauphiness stepped out on to the balcony she was rather frightened to see such an immense crowd surging at her feet. "Madame," said the Prefect of Paris, "I hope that your husband will not be displeased, but down there are 200,000 people who are in love with Your Koyal Highness." The Dauphin was not jealous. The enthusiasm of the multitude and his wife's charms reacted on himself; he over- came his usual shyness, and replied with dignity to the speeches that were addressed to him. Marie Antoinette could not help weeping for joy. She took her husband's arm, and they walked about among the people, who had neither flowers enough to throw at their feet, nor voice enough to shout their welcome. "The dear, good people," exclaimed the Dauphiness con- tinually. Louis XV., who had so completely lost the love and esteem of his people, was at Versailles impatiently awaiting the return of his grandchildren. " I have been uneasy about you, children," he said ; " you must be terribly tired." "It has been the most delightful day in our lives," answered Marie Antoinette, adding gracefully to the old King : — "The Parisians must be very fond of Your Majesty to have received us so warmly." A few days later she wrote to her mother: "I was present at a scene last Monday which I shall never forget. We had our public entry into Paris, and as for the decorations prepared for us, there was everything one could think of; but, lovely as all these were, they were not the chief attraction. The devotion and enthusiasm of the people were most touching ; and notwith- standing the heavy taxes, which are simply crushing them, they Entry into Paris 43 were madly glad to see us. I cannot describe to you, my dear mother, how overwhelmed we were with shouts of joy and signs of affection. How fortunate we are in this country to be able thus easily to gain the goodwill of the people ! Nothing can be more worth having; I feel it, and I shall never forget this reception. There was another thing on this delightful occasion which gave me pleasure, and that was the behaviour of the Dauphin, who replied splendidly to all the speeches. He had an eye for all that had been done for him, and appreciated the zeal and kindness of the people, towards whom he was very gracious." After this triumphal entry into Paris there was some improve- ment in the position of the Dauphiness, and the intercourse between the young couple was on a better footing. Louis began to feel himself attracted towards his wife, and she began to appreciate his estimable character. Still, one has rarely heard of such irony of fate as that which cast these two people together, and it would be difficult to meet with characters that offer a greater contrast to each other. It was as though fire and water had been united ; not only opposite characters, but different races, tastes, opinions, sympathies, wishes, and feelings were in collision. Marie Antoinette was warm and lively; Louis cold and apathetic. He was silent; she was talkative. She was elegant and graceful ; he was clumsy and heavy. Even his good nature was not satisfactory to Marie Antoinette, for it was rough, repulsive, and vulgar, wanting in a certain delicacy and romance of feeling which she prized. She sought in vain for the husband of her dreams and the future King in this Prince, who had no decided liking for anything but smithy work, and who spent his days with his blacksmith friend Gamain. The complete neglect of his person was a great cause of annoy- ance to his young wife, and one day she bitterly reproached him for being so dirty and untidy in his dress. Louis was affronted at first, then he began to weep, and Marie Antoinette was sorry she had offended him. She began to cry, and they became reconciled. " Do you like me ? " the Dauphin once asked her. "Yes," answered Marie Antoinette, "I do really like you, do not doubt it ; but I respect you still more." 44 Marie Antoinette. The Dauphin felt encouraged by her naive frankness, and began from that time to be a little more courteous. Then her position in the inner court circle was more com- fortable, for, after some violent domestic quarrels, the elder princesses had apparently ceased to annoy her for a time. Some other members of the Eoyal Family did their utmost to please the future Queen, and finally Madame du Barry left off com- plaining and plotting. She could see for herself what others took care to point out to her, that the King was old, and that it might be to her advantage to be on a good footing with the young heirs to the throne. Louis XV. had long been a stranger in his own kingdom. His mistress had tried in vain to rouse him to travel about and to organize fetes, but there was nothing left that could please a man who had tasted of all with so much facility. His health was already shattered by continual debaucheries when he was attacked by small-pox in April, 1774. The doctor told him that it was time to think of a future life, and on his fear of God being thus aroused Madame du Barry was commanded to leave the Castle. The news of his dangerous illness was received in Paris with indifference, bordering on pleasure, and ambitious court officials hardly knew whether it was better to cling to the setting, or to turn their thoughts to the rising sun. When it was known that his death was pretty certain the courtiers rushed out of Versailles as though driven by a hurricane, while others hastened towards the Castle to ascertain if the King's condition was worse. Louis suffered most awfully in the agonies of death. Some- times he hid his face that he might not see anything, sometimes he pushed away the crucifix that was held before him, screaming out that he was unworthy of the cross of Christ. At other times he gazed anxiously upwards, seized the crucifix, pressed it to his heart, and kissed it with penitence and burning tears. After taking every precaution against infection, the doctors entered his bedroom with disgust and loathing, while many persons were attacked with the disease simply from passing through the corridor outside. One courtier, who had opened the door a little way and Death of Louis XV. 45 looked at the King for two minutes, died, and it was with great difficulty that servants could be induced to enter the room. Some functionary noticed a boy shedding tears, and asked if he was weeping for his master. "For the King? Not in the least," answered the youth. "I am crying for a poor fellow there who has not had small-pox. He will get it and die." Both the Dauphin and his wife kept away by command of the King ; his daughters and a few servants were alone present at his death. Courtiers and friends left him, but the Princesses Adelaide and Louise were not absent a moment. They encouraged him by their prayers, supported him by their devotion, and attended to him in every detail with the almost certain prospect of infection. It was in vain that the doctors begged them to go away from this terrible death-bed; and even though the King joined his entreaties to theirs, the princesses would not leave their posts. A lighted candle was placed in one of the windows of the Castle as a sign that the King was still living. He breathed his last May 10th, between four and five in the afternoon, when the candle was extinguished, and those outside knew then that the King was dead. All who could fled from the Castle. The Master of the Ceremonies and a few officials, whose duty it was to see that the sovereign was buried, alone remained. The body was hastily wrapped in a sheet and thrown into an oak coffin, trebly lined with zinc, to be carried away by two scavengers, the only men who could be induced to undertake the task. In spite of all precautions, such a pestilential smell came from the coffin that the priest who was present was only restrained by his religion from taking to flight- In the middle of the night the dead body was conveyed in a cart to the royal vault at St. Denis. A few belated revellers from the roadside inns greeted the monarch on his last journey with jokes and drunken allusions. "His birth," said one wit, "was paid for with paper-money. He gave us war when he grew up, famine when he was old, and the plague when he died." CHAPTER VII. Accession to the Throne— Court Ceremonials — The Comtesse de Noailles — AbW Vermond. Never has a King of France had less ambition than the well- meaning youth of dirty, blacksmith's hands, who ascended the throne on the death of Louis XV. He looked upon greatness as a burden, which only Christian resignation could enable him to bear. When his father died, and he was called Dauphin for the first time, he turned pale and fainted, " Poor France," exclaimed Louis XV., "thou hast an old man for thy King, and a child for thy Dauphin." Immediately after the death of Louis the whole family met together in the private chapel, and while children and grand- children were praying for the deceased King an awful storm came on. The rain beat against the windows, the wind extinguished the tapers, and the thunder drowned the voice of the priest. The Comtesse de Noailles and Abbe" Vermond had been the first to enter the apartments of the royal pair after the removal of the old King. They went to greet them as King and Queen of France, but were met with tears and sorrow. " Oh, God ! " they exclaimed, as they both knelt, " we are far too young to govern." It was a cry from their very hearts, and at the same time a reasonable one, for neither was experienced enough for the high position they were called upon to fill. Louis, who was barely twenty, had been systematically kept back from any share in the government; and Marie Antoinette, who was not nineteen, had neither liking nor understanding for State affairs. 46 Accession to the Throne. 47 The court was split up into hostile parties, the exchequer was mismanaged, and respect for royal authority was almost at an end. Difficulties arose on every side, and the cry for reform was universal. The first few days were passed by the people in an enthusiasm of joy. They wrote ironical elegies on the King who had been called " the well-beloved," and sang of him : — " Ci-gtt Louis, le pauvre roi, II f ut bon, dit-on, mais & quoi ? " At the same time nothing but praises and blessings were showered on Louis XVI. and his charming consort, and on the pedestal of the statue of Henri IV. somebody wrote " Eesurrexit " (He has risen again). " What a nice word," exclaimed the King when he saw it, " if only it were true." A goldsmith made quite a fortune by selling mourning snuff- boxes with the portrait of Marie Antoinette on the lid, and underneath the words, "Comfort in your sorrow." After the old King's death the royal couple took up their temporary residence at "La Muette," a little castle in the Bois de Boulogne. From early morning crowds of people collected outside the Castle gates, and shouts of "Long live the King" were heard from six o'clock till sunset. They expected much from the young King, whom they knew to be serious, well-informed, and benevolent, in spite of his shy appearance; and not less was looked for from the young Queen, whom they knew to be so good and pretty. The plots, which up to the last moment had been seething round the death-bed of Louis XV, were just as subtle, just as mischievous in their nature, when his grandson ascended the throne. Even before the plague-stricken corpse of the old King had been taken away in the dead of that dark night, disputes and struggles had arisen for posts and titles of honour. The most pressing request of the people was granted, and the day after the King's death his mistress was finally dismissed, while her brother-in-law, Count Jean du Barry, who had been the leading spirit in all the court intrigues, had to fly in haste to England. 48 Marie Antoinette. But with that inconsiderate haste which is characteristic of Frenchmen, they wished all who had hitherto been in power to be dismissed within four-and-twenty hours. "I am uneasy about this French enthusiasm," wrote Marie Antoinette to her mother one of the first days after her husband's accession. "It is impossible to satisfy everybody in a country where their natural impatience requires that all shall be seen to in a moment." Maria Theresa was even less confident. " I am afraid the good days are over," she said to her Minister, as they were speaking of the change of rulers. And to the young King and Queen she wrote, " You are both very young, my dear children. The burden is heavy; I am anxious, oh! so anxious about you." When the Empress arranged the marriage of her daughter with the Dauphin she thought she was acting in the interests of her own policy. But she could hardly have selected one less suitable to carry out her wishes, for of all her daughters Marie Antoinette was the one who had the least interest in affairs of State. Princess Adelaide took small-pox when attending her father's death-bed, but she fought against her sufferings and recovered to carry on her plans. From the very beginning of her nephew's reign she made it apparent that she meant to lead the young King, and to determine the choice of his ministers. She talked to Louis in his father's name, and repeated to him the political instructions he had drawn up for the guidance of his son. While the Queen was taking her daily walk, the Princess arranged a meeting with closed doors, and read aloud to him the list of the men whom his father had wished to be selected as counsellors. Marquis Maurepas was chosen as head of the ministry, and the appointment was acceptable to the Princess ; if less in accordance with the wishes of Marie Antoinette, we must confess that she was in part to blame. She had allowed her aunts to live under the same roof with the King and herself, although it had been decided from the first that Court Ceremonials. 49 they should be separated for a time. She had been too timid to dispute Adelaide's appointments, and even weak enough to back up the choice of one or two of the new ministers. It seems as though she had only the one idea of getting d'Aiguillon dismissed, whom she hated and called "that ugly man." Personally she would certainly have liked to honour Choiseul, who, as we have seen, was her friend and the promoter of her marriage. In the meantime she tried hard to lessen the King's prejudice against him, but all she could obtain was that he might return to court on a short visit. The young Queen met him in the most friendly, gracious manner. " I am delighted to see you again, Monsieur Choiseul," she said, "and I shall be very glad if I have brought about your return. It is you who have created my happiness, and it is but fair that you should be a witness of it." Louis was far from being as amiable ; he had not forgotten the ugly libellous stories with which his childhood had been poisoned. " How fat you have become, Monsieur Choiseul," was the first thing he said to the former minister; "you have lost your hair and become bald." The duke had not expected much from this visit, and had ordered horses for the return journey before the audience took place. ****** The King's household consisted of 1400 officials, while those of the Queen numbered 450, and all bore pompous and ridiculous titles. The life of the royal pair was not unlike that of prisoners, for watching eyes followed them at every turn, and the staff itself represented warders, under whom the discipline of the Castle was like that of barracks or a jail. One of the things which annoyed Marie Antoinette when she became Queen was this almost cruel surveillance, a relic of former times. Etiquette met her at every step she took ; it hindered her movements, destroyed her pleasures, and interfered with her friendships. In sickness or in health, in her home life or on state occasions, she was ruled by the strictest ceremony. Petty regula- E 5