Hc CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library DC 137.1.B58 The storv of Marie-Antoinette. 3 1924 024 292 611 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis 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/cu31924024292611 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE MARIE-ANTOINKTTE. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BHAUN, CLEMENT & CO., n, i., OF A PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE lEBRUN, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE BY ANNA L BICKNELL AUTHOR OF "life IN THE TUILERIES UNDER THE SECOND empire" NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1897 Copyright, 1897, By The Centdbt Co. 3 fo 1 5r6'^ The DeVinne Press. CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE Charaeter of Maria Theresa — Her political views — Birth of Marie-Antoiaette— A bad omen — Marriages of the daugh- ters of Maria Theresa — The destiny of Marie- Antoinette — Her education — Affianced at fourteen to the heir of the crown of France — Her mother's parting advice — An ac- credited spy — Her mother's aim — Picture of the Court of France — The King — Madame du Barry — The Dauphin — The daughters of the King — Adverse elements 1 CHAPTER n The Archduchess arrives at the Pavilion of Exchange in an island on the Rhine — The etiquette observed — Arrival at Compi^gne, where she meets the King and the Dauphin — Arrival at Versailles — The marriage ceremony — The apartments of the Dauphine — The beauty of the young bride — The Abbe de Vermond — Hostility of the Due de la Vauguyon — Madame de NoaiUes — Worries over eti- quette — Daily life described in a letter to Maria Theresa — How pictures were painted by a queen — The neglected education of Marie-Antoinette — Incessant spying on her actions — A duke listening at doors — Madame du Barry — Intrigues to influence the Dauphin 13 r CHAPTER m Objections to the Dauphine's wish to ride on horseback — Donkeys allowed, as " these animals are not at all danger- vi CONTENTS PAGE ous" — What is to be done when a Danphine of France falls from a donkey? — The Dauphine yields to the temp- tation of riding a horse — A solemn ambassador — Threats of anger on the part of Maria Theresa — The Dauphine greatly frightened — Amiable nature of Marie-Antoinette — A Dauphine of France loses her shoe in the mud — Pic- ture of the court of Louis XV— The Dauphiae's position— Difficulties and court cabals — Disgrace of Choiseul— The Dauphine proudly refuses to propitiate Madame du Barry — The Dauphin and his brother fight in the presence 6f Marie-Antoiaette — Marriages of the Comte de Provence and the Comte d'Artois — Letters of Maria Theresa — Ill- ness of the King — Particulars of his death — What eti- quette required of a gentleman in waiting 32 CHAPTER IV The young King and Queen — Marie- Antoinette receives in state the great ladies of the land — Difficulties in obtauiing due respect from the King's brothers and their wives — Too much kindness and indtdgenee — The Queen prepares private apartments as a refuge from too much splendor — Her daily life — The beauty and grace of the Queen — Eti- quette and customs — Trianon and its improvements — The Queen's dairy — The Queen's extravagant fashions — Tastes of the King — His love of hunting — Dangerous influence of the Comte d'Artois — Public criticism 62 CHAPTER V The King's coronation — A painful crown — A royal brother — Blunders of an archduke — An imprudent correspon- dence — The Queen's Ukes and dislikes — Intimacy with the Princesse de LambaUe — The King's sledges — Danger in diamond bracelets — Eeprimands and prophecies of Maria Theresa — Marriage of Madame Clotilde — The Queen described by Horace Walpole — Intimacy with the Princesse de Gu6m6n6e 85 CONTENTS vu CHAPTER VI PAGE Rivalries and court jealousies — Evenings in the apartments of the Prinoesse de Gu6m6n6e — A chilling visitor — Noisy, undignified society — Privileges of the milUner MUe. Bertin — The Queen's extravagance — Her frivolity — An adop- tion — Journey to France of Joseph II — The Queen's sim- plicity and ingenuousness — Impressions made by Joseph II on the King and Queen — A head-dress "too fragile to support a crown" — Impressions made on Joseph II by his visit — Return of her " evil genius " — Reports in the Eng- lish newspapers — The Queen and Hume's "History of England." 102 CHAPTER Vn Fontainebleau in 1777 — The Queen's day at Fontainehleau — Constant association with the Comtesse de PoUgnac — Extravagance of Comte d'Artois — Hopes of an heir to the crown — Political difficulties — Interference of Marie-An- toinette in favor of Austria— Pressing letters from Maria Theresa — The Queen is more than ever called "the Aus- trian " — Madame Elisabeth's household — Household of the future heir — Birth of a daughter — Chimney-sweepers at the birth of a royal child — Witchcraft and a wedding-ring — Madame de Genlis 124 CHAPTER VIII The Queen coldly received at the thanksgiving service — Fresh resolutions — The Op6ra masked balls — A Queen in a hackney-coach — False reports — The Queen has the measles — Unexpected sick-nurses — The Queen goes to Trianon for her convalescence — Abolition of etiquette at Trianon — Unfounded rumors concerning the Queen — An old coxcomb — Story of a heron plume — Causes of bitter enmity against the Queen — Perilous friendship — The theater of Trianon — A majestic soubrette — Madame de Lamballe — Death of Maria Theresa — Grief of the Queen. 138 viii CONTENTS CHAPTER IX FACE Birth of the Dauphin— Joy of the King and Queen — Bank- ruptcy of the Prince de Gruem6n6e — Its consequences — Duchesse de Polignac appointed State Governess of the " Children of France "—Visit of the King of Sweden— An unexpected guest at a royal dinner-table — Visit of the Grand Duke Paul of Eussia and his consort — Etiquette concerning a bracelet — Death of the prime minister Mau- repas — Appointment of Calonne and its consequences — Combined economy and extravagance of Louis XVI — Pur- chase of EambouiQet and St. Cloud — Montreuil and Madame Ehsabeth — "Pauvre Jacques " — Unpopularity of the Queen 152 CHAPTER X A wonderful necklace — Generosity of Louis XVI refused by Marie- Antoinette — An unworthy prelate — An adven- turess connected with the reigning family of France — A cardinal duped — A moonlight scene in the park of Ver- sailles — Gift of a rose — An extraordinary resemblance — Forged letters of the Queen — A prelate arrested in his pontifl-cal robes — A trial concerning the highest nobUity of France — Indignation of the Queen at the verdict — What was the truth? 162 CHAPTER XI The last theatrical performance at Trianon — The Queen now entirely devoted to her children — She perseveres un- fortunately in her Austrian policy — Her amiable disposi- tion — The old keeper at Trianon — Madame Vig6e Lebrun, the artist — The beauty of the Queen — Anecdotes— Af- fectionate intercourse with Madame Elisabeth — Death of the little Princesse Sophie — Strange prophecy of Cazotte — Painting by Madame Lebrun — Alarming condition of the Dauphin — Political difiaculties and complications 184 CONTENTS ix CHAPTER XII FA6E Convocation of the States-General — Eoyal pomp shown for the last time — The Queen subjected to insulting cries Death of the Dauphin — Superstition and wax candles — The Bastille taken— Murder of the governor, de Launay, and of the provost Plesselles — Scenes of "Sentiment"— Flight of the Polignae family — Departure of several princes of the royal blood — Delusion of Lafayette — Ban- quet of the Guards at Versailles 198 CHAPTER XIII Insurrection in Paris — The populace force Lafayette to lead them to Versailles ^ Advice of the Minister of the Interior, Comte de Saint-Priest — Mistaken refusal of the Queen to leave the King — His iadecision — Mistaken views of Necker and Lafayette ^ Attack on the Queen's apartments — Devoted bravery of the Guards — The Queen forced to seek refuge in the King's apartments — Her intrepidity — The Eoyal Family taken forcibly to Paris — Arrival at the Tiuleries — The little Dauphin — The Princesse de Lam- balle — Daily life of Marie-Antoinette 206 CHAPTER XIV Attempt of the royalists to carry off the King by force — The King will not consent — The two guards, Miomandre de Ste.-Marie and his companion, received and thanked by the Queen — Unfortunate shyness of the King — St. Cloud — Fears of poison for the Queen — Interview with Mirabeau — Plans for flight — Procrastination — Eetum of Fersen — What the Queen thought absolutely necessary for precipi- tate flight — Eumors in the public world 221 CHAPTER XV Flight of the royal family — They are recognized on the road, and stopped at Varennes — Scenes in the house of the X CONTENTS FAGB mayor — Eetum to Paris — Bamave and P^thion — Madame Elisabeth and Bamave — Thraldom ia Paris— Disappointment of the Queen — Eetum of the Prinoesse de Lamballe — Kindness of the Queen toward those whose mismanagement had caused the failure of the journey — Mercy 233 CHAPTER XVI A new Assembly — A new constitution — Fears of poison — Death of Leopold II — Assassination of -Grustavus III — The httle Dauphin — The Queen's comfort — Bamave sacrifices his life— War with Austria declared — Unfortunate at- tempt of the King to destroy a libel agaiast the Queen — The King refuses his consent to a decree sentencing to transportation the priests who had refused to take the schismatic oath — Insurrection of the populace — Insurrec- tion of the 20th of June — The populace burst into the Tuileries — Coolness and courage of the King — Heroic conduct of Madame Elisabeth — Dignity of the Queen — Napoleon and the " Canaille " — The Queen seeks the inter- vention of the European powers — The terrible 10th of August — The royal famUy take refuge in the National Assembly — Forfeiture of the crown decreed 246 CHAPTER XVII The three days at Les Feuillants — The royal family removed to the Temple tower — Arrest of the Princesse de Lamballe, and of Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel — Madame EHsabeth's gown — Privations and anxieties — Daily life of the royal family— The Queen's dress — The King directs the studies of his son and the Queen those of her daughter — Gross insults and petty vexations 262 CHAPTER XVIII Horrible death of the Princesse de Lamballe — Ferocity of the mob — Savage incident at the Temple tower — Effect CONTENTS xi PAGE on the Queen — The King removed to the large tower — Distress of the Queen — Eemoval of the whole royal family to the large tower — The King's trial announced — Separation from his family 272 CHAPTER XIX The King's trial — Malesherhes a faithful friend — A sad Christmas — How the royal family corresponded with the King — The New Year — The King's sentence — His last requests — A reprieve of three days refused — Farewell in- terview with his family — The Abb6 Edge worth de Firmont 281 CHAPTER XX The King prepares for death — His kindness to the last — He hears mass and receives communion — The Abb6 Edgeworth persuades him to give up the last interview with the Queen and royal family — He bids farewell to C16ry — His last words to the porter of the prison — A fruit- less attempt to save him on his way to the scaffold — He prepares for his execution — His address to the people — His death 290 CHAPTER XXI Grief of the Queen — -She remains in the closest seclusion — The Dauphin is taken away from the Queen — Her des- perate resistance — The Princesses left without attendance — They perform menial work and wait on the Queen — She is removed to the Conciergerie prison — Madame Eichard — Narrative of her servant, Bosalie Lamorlifere — Arrival of the Queen — Her cell- The child of Madame Eichard. . 297 CHAPTER XXII Gentleness and patience of the Queen — Care of EosaUe — Enforced idleness — Her watch and diamond rings taken from her— A fatal flower— A pricked paper— Arrest of xH CONTENTS PAGE the jailer and his family — The Queen transferred to an- other cell — A new jailer — The Queen brought to trial — Attempt to obtain scandalous testimony from her own children — Her sentence unexpected by her — Her letter to Madame Elisabeth — Eosalie^ — Ministrations of a con- stitutional priest refused — "Errors, but not crimes." 307 CHAPTER XXIII The last insults — Dress of the Queen when going to the scaf- fold — The sentence read to her — The executioner ties her hands and cuts off her hair — The cart — The last progress through the streets — An American witness — The Tuiler- ies — Scene on the scaffold — The last look of Marie- An- toinette 320 CHAPTER XXIV Sequel — The trial of Madame Elisabeth — Her fortitude at the scaffold — The cruelty practised on the Dauphin — His horrible isolation — The pity that was shown too late — His last words of his mother — Strength of character shown by the surviving princess, Madame Royale — Sent to Aus- tria in 1795 — Married to her cousin 326 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Maeie-Antoinette Frontispiece FACING PAGE Maeia Theeesa of Austeia, Mothee of Maeie-An- toinette 8 Louis XVI and Maeie- Antoinette at the Age of Fif- teen Yeaes 16 The Palace and Paek of Veesatlles 24 Maeie- ADELAIDE-CLOTILDE-XAVlilEE DE Feance 32 Louis-Stanislas-Xatiee de Bouebon, Comte de Peo- vence, afteewaed louis xviii 40 Antoine-Paul-Jacqites de Qublen de Stuee de Caus- SADE, Duo DE LA VaUGUTON 48 MAEIE-LOUISE-TH^EiSE-VlOTOIEE DE FeANOB 56 Maeie-Adelaide de Feance 64 Salle des Glaces, Palace of Veesailles 72 The Temple of Lote, Veesailles 80 The Daiet and Towee of Maelboeough, Veesailles . . 80 ' Sophie-Philippine-Elisabeth- Justine de Feance 96 Louisb-Mabie de Feance 112 duchesse de polignac 128 xlll xiv LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS sxcrsa page House of the Seignette, Petit Teianon 144 Aemand Gaston, Caedinal de Eohan 160 comtesse de la mottb 168 Diamond Necklace 176 Bed op MAEiE-AirroiNETTE 192 Petit Teianon, Veesatlles 208 Madame Elisabeth 224 Chambee op Louis XTV 240 The Dauphin Louis-Joseph and his Sister the Du- CHESSE D'AngoulMe 256 MAEIE-THfeEtSE-LOUISE DE SAVOIE-CAEIGNAN, PEINOESSE DE Lamballb 272 Louis XVI 288 Maeie-Ahtoinette Aio) HEE Childeen 304 Maeie- Antoinette 320 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE CHAPTER I Character of Maria Theresa — Her political views — Birth of Marie- Antoinette — A bad omen — Marriages of the daughters of Maria Theresa — The destiny of Marie- Antoinette — Her education — Affianced at fourteen to the heir of the crown of France — Her mother's parting advice — An accredited spy — Her mother's aim — Picture of the Court of France — The King — Madame du Barry ^ The Dauphin — The daughters of the King— Adverse elements. THE story of Marie-Antoinette is universally ad- mitted to be full of interest. All have heard more or less of her beauty, her brave spirit, her harrowing misfortunes, her tragic death. And this history, more enthralling than any romance, belongs almost to our own time: the fathers of men who may be still living saw her, and talked of her to their sons. This gives a peculiar, life-like reality to the sad tale, of which so many traces still remain in France. The beautiful portraits at Versailles, recall- ing the features of the young and lovely Queen ; the regal bedchamber from which she fled, where the populace rushed to shed th@; blood of the hated 2 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE "Austrian," while her faithful guards laid down their lives to defend her; the cell at the Conciergerie prison, from which, one October morning, the stiU brave, still dignified victim was led to the scaffold, to expiate, as she said herself, "errors, but not crimes" — all these may yet be seen. The Eoyalist writers have drawn a glorified and saintly picture of the unhappy Queen ; those of the opposite party have striven to blacken her fame in order to explain, if not to justify, the judicial murder by which her life was sacrificed. But the real Marie- Antoinette has not yet been fully depicted. Recent pubHcations of undoubted authenticity* throw a new light on the true character of one who was neither a saint nor yet a sinner in any grave degree, but an amiable and lovable woman, frivolous in her prosperous days, engrossed in the pursuit of amuse- ment, thoughtless and imprudent in many of her ac- tions and words, but who, nevertheless, in the time of adversity showed that she had inherited the he- roic spirit of her mother, Maria Theresa. The history of the great Empress, and of her early struggles when, forsaken and desolate, with her child in her arms, she made her passionate appeal to "her" Hungarians, who proclaimed in response that they would die for their "King — Maria The- resa," is well known. She was a great sovereign, a woman of masculine mind; and although the mother of sixteen children, she remained essentially 1 Taken from the State Papers at Vienna. BIRTH OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 3 a politician — a statesman, if such an expression may be used. Her husband, Francis of Lorraine, and after his death her sons in succession, were nomi- nally Emperors of Germany; but Maria Theresa, who possessed, as Queen in her own right, a large portion of the Empire, was the ruling spirit and the real sovereign. Her life was one long struggle with the surrounding powers, more especially Prussia, then governed by Frederick the Great, and resist- ance to his encroachments became the chief aim of her life. Her daughters were regarded principally as instruments for obtaining political alliances by their marriages in the reigning families, whose in- fluence might be brought forward as a counterpoise to that of her opponent. Thus, her daughter Caro- line was married to the King of Naples ; Spain was conciliated by the marriage of the Archduchess Amelia to the Duke of Parma ; * Maria Christina be- came the wife of Albert of Saxe-Teschen, governor of the Netherlands ; but the youngest and fairest of her daughters she had destined from her earliest years for the heir to the throne of France, To secure the French alliance she had already made many sacrifices, even that of her dignity as an empress and a Christian woman by stooping to conciliate the King's favorite, Madame de Pompadour. But her cherished dream was to unite her daughter Marie- Antoinette to the Dauphin, grandson of Louis XV and heir to the French crown. 1 Panua then belonged to the Spanish Bourbons. 4 THE STOEY OF MAKIE-ANTOLNETTE Marie-Antoinette Josfeplie Jeanne, of Hapsburg- Lorraine, Archduchess of Austria and future Queen of France, was born on November 2 (feast of All Souls), 1755— the day after the terrible catastro- phe at Lisbon when that city was nearly destroyed by an earthquake. The superstitious might see here an omen of the fate which awaited the innocent child in a social convulsion far more disastrous in its consequences than the calamity which marked the day of her birth ! The son of the first Dauphin of France in the reign of Louis XV, and future heir to the crown, was born a year before the daughter of Maria Theresa, who, from her earliest years, was carefully prepared for the destiny which her mother hoped to secure for her. She was taught the correct pronunciation of French by two actors of the Th6S,tre Fran9ais, while the French Abb6 de Vermond was appointed to direct her education, which, however, was unhappily very in- complete. The writers who glorify the maternal care and vigilance of Maria Theresa are contradicted by the most trustworthy witnesses; the truth seeming to be that the great Empress, engrossed by her political cares, left her children far too completely to the dis- cretion of governesses and subordinates, who were neither very capable nor, perhaps, very conscientious. Drawings were shown to the Empress as the work of Marie- Antoinette which the latter afterward declared she had never touched, and this "make-believe" system seems to have been carried on throughout. APFIANCED AT FOUKTEBN 5 The Abb6 de Vermond directed only lier French studies; but although a good and ■well-meaning man, the results which he obtained were far from credit- able to his efforts. He does not seem to have had the art either of interesting her in any serious pur- suit, or of acquiring proper control over her mind and character. Her handwriting even, as proved by autographs, was utterly unformed and childish at the time of her arrival at the court of France, and her spelling was defective. Through the manoeuvers of her imperial mother, and the influence of the Due de Choiseul, then Prime Minister of France, who favored the Aus- trian alliance, the marriage was settled at the ear- liest possible age of the Dauphin and of the Arch- duchess, the bride being only fourteen, and the bridegroom a year older. On the 21st of January, 1770, Marie- Antoinette re- ceived the wedding-ring sent by the Dauphin. The 21st of January! On that very day, twenty-three years later, Louis XVI ascended the scaffold ! But who could then foresee what the future would bring forth? On April 16 the ofl&cial demand was made to the widowed Empress, in the name of the " most Chris- tian King," by the Marquis de Durfort. On the 17th the Archduchess solemnly renounced her rights in Austria. On the 19th a qeremony of marriage by proxy was performed (the Archduke Maximilian representing the Dauphin of France), and 6 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE the official signatures were then appended to the im- perial register of births, deaths, and marriages. It is said that through one of those mysterious forebodings which are sometimes felt on solemn occasions, the hand of Maria Theresa trembled as she signed her name to the record sealing her daughter's fate. The young Princess was then required to spend three days in meditation and prayer, as a prepara- tion for her future state. On April 21, after re- ceiving holy communion, she was taken to pray before the tombs of her ancestors, where lay the father who had loved her with peculiar affection, and whom she had lost in her early childhood. Then came the final parting from her mother, the last meeting in this world, for in those days few people traveled, and sovereigns never left their states. In the case of Marie-Antoinette not only her mother and the imperial family deeply felt the pangs attending such a separation, but the house- hold and even the city of Vienna mourned the de- parture of the bright, amiable girl, whom aU loved. But it must be; and, amidst the tears of all who knew and loved her, Marie-Antoinette went forth to her unknown fate. Before the last heartrending embrace, Maria The- resa gave her daughter a plan and rule of life " to be read over every month." Part of this seems to be the "cut-and-dried" advice taken from a devo- tional book; but here and there, more particularly HER MOTHER'S PARTING ADVICE 7 in a private supplement of instructions, the eager, earnest tones, evidently of the Empress herself, are in marked contrast with, the rest. "Have no curiosity — this is a point on which I have great fears for you. Avoid all familiarity with your subordinates. Ask Monsieur and Madame de Noailles,' and even insist, that they should tell you what you ought to do ; and request that they should warn you sincerely of anything to be corrected in your manner or your speech, or in any other re- spect. Do not be ashamed of asking advice, and do nothing out of your own head. At the beginning of every month I wiU despatch a special messenger to Paris ; meanwhile you can prepare your letters so as to send them immediately on the amval of this messenger. Mercy'' wiU have orders for his return. You can also write to me by post, but only on unim- portant matters such as every one may know. De- stroy my letters, which will enable me to write to you more openly; I wiU do the same as regards yours. Say nothing about domestic affairs here; there is nothing but what would be uninteresting and even wearisome. Speak of your family with truth and moderation." Elsewhere she says very sagely : " I should in no wise be desirous of your introducing any novelties or doing anything contrary to the custom of France ; you must pretend to nothing peculiar to yourself, 1 They were appointed to conduct the Princess to Versailles. 2 The AjnbassadoT of the German Empire at the court of France. 8 THE STOET OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE nor quote what is done here, nor try that such should be imitated." This judicious advice might be followed with ad- vantage by many young brides even in private life, but the state of the court of France at that time was such as to render the future position of the innocent but thoughtless and imperfectly educated young Princess one of peculiar difaculty and peril. The King was an aged libertine, entirely en- grossed by disgraceful pleasures, worn out physically and mentally by the excesses of his life, bearing the yoke of his favorite, the Comtesse du Barry, who reigned supreme, but who was in fact the tool of ambitious politicians by whom she had been pushed into her prominent position for the sole purpose of having a ready instrument at their service. The Comtesse du Barry was a woman of pre- viously disreputable character, and the lowest possi- ble social condition, with whom a ruined spendthrift, the Comte du Barry, had been induced by bribery to go through a form of marriage in order to give her sufficient rank for admittance at the court, where she at once became the reigning favorite of Louis XV. The first Dauphin, son of the King, had died several years before, to the great grief of the na- tion, for his conduct and principles were in strong contrast to those of his father. His wife, the Dau- phine, an exceedingly estimable woman strongly at- tached to her husband, did not long siirvive his loss. They left five children: three sons. — the Due de 2 > > m m > c -i 7J o H n: m O s > > O Z m H m THE DAUGHTERS OF THE KING 9 Berry, who after Ms father's death became Dau- phin and heir apparent to the throne of France (afterward king as Louis XVI), the Comte de Pro- vence, and the Comte d'Artois (later known respec- tively as Louis XVIII and Charles X); and two daughters— Madame Clotilde and Madame Elisa- beth. The title of "Madame" used at the French court was attended with such complications that some explanation is necessary to make the following narrative intelligible. The son or grandson of the King, heir apparent to the throne, was called the "Dauphin," and his wife the "Dauphine"; this was the title of the ancient sovereigns of the province of Dauphin^, an- nexed to the possessions of the French crown. The brother of the King was called "Monsieur," with- out any other appellation, and his wife "Madame." The younger brothers and sons of the King were also called "Monsieur," but with a title annexed, thus: "Monsieur" Comte de Provence, "Monsiem-" Comte d'Artois ; their wives were " Madame " Com- tesse de Provence, "Madame" Comtesse d'Artois. The King's daughters and granddaughters in the direct line, the " FiUes de France," or Daughters of France, as they were proudly entitled, were also called "Madame," but distinguished by their Chris- tian names. Thus, the unmarried daughters of Louis XV were called collectively "Mesdames de France," and individually Madame Adelaide, Ma- dame Victoire, Madame Sophie, Madame Louise. 10 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE The Queen, Marie Leckzinska, had died some time before the marriage of the Dauphin, her grandson ; and since her death the position of "first lady in the land" had been held by Madame Adelaide, a clever woman of an imperious, domineering temper, who was by no means pleased to yield her preroga- tives, as she must needs do, to the child-wife of a boyish nephew. Madame Victoire, fat, sleepy, and good-natured, cared little for any thing beyond a good dinner and her other comforts, but was led and governed by her elder sister; Madame Sophie was singularly iU-favored, very shy, very disagree- able, and utterly insignificant; the youngest and most amiable of the four sisters, Madame Louise, had recently left the court for a Carmelite convent, with the intention of enduring the terrible austeri- ties of that order, according to the faith of the Catholic Church, as a victim of expiation to obtain the salvation of her father's soul, which seemed in considerable peril when his licentious life was con- sidered. This act of self-immolation deprived the young Marie-Antoinette of one who might have been her best friend at the court of Louis XV, for Madame Louise was thoroughly good and sincere. The other "Mesdames de France " were, in fact, esti- mable but narrow-minded and ill-educated spinsters, holding a small court of their own (wheels within wheels), greatly influenced by their attendants, in open war with their father's favorite, and strongly antagonistic to the party led by the Due de Choiseul, ADVERSE ELEMENTS 11 wlio shocked their feelings by his so-called " philo- sophical" and reaUy anti-religious views, as well as by the part which he had played in the expulsion of the Jesuits. They disliked Austria, and they dis- liked Choiseul ; consequently they were not disposed to give a very cordial welcome to an Austrian arch- duchess chosen by Choiseul as a bride for their nephew : the latter, a heavy, good-natured lad of fif- teen, weU-meaning, but overpowered with shyness, and wholly undeveloped; unformed in mind as well as in manners. Such was the court to which a thoughtless child was sent, where a woman of ripe years and culti- vated intellect would have required the greatest prudence and caution to steer her way among in- numerable difficulties. Maria Theresa, though not fuUy informed of the real state of the case, yet knew enough to have a strong desire to give suitable guidance to her daugh- ter. She consequently arranged with the German ambassador, Comte de Mercy-Argenteau, a secret correspondence by which she was to be informed of everything concerning the young Dauphine. Mercy kept a journal, which was regularly sent to the Em- press, in which the most minute details of the daily life of the Princess are jotted down; every act, every incautious word, is registered. Being in utter ig- norance of this agreement, Marie-Antoinette treated Mercy with f uU confidence, often expressing astonish- ment at the information possessed by the Empress 12 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE concerning her, but never dreaming tliat Mercy, ■whom she entirely trusted, was in fact an accredited spy through whom everything was revealed. There is, it must be owned, something revolting in the part played by Mercy. True, the revelations were made only to her mother; but she was Em- press of Germany, and while Marie- Antoinette ought henceforward to have been devoted to the interests of France, the country over which her husband was to reign, the one idea of Maria Theresa was the prosperity and welfare of her own empire. She gave excellent advice to her daughter; she earnestly wished that she should acquire every virtue and every charm: but with the object of obtaining in- fluence to be used in the interest of Germany. The position of Maria Theresa was, however, so tran- scendental, she was so revered by her subjects as an almost superhuman being, that obedience to the wishes of "Her Sacred Majesty" seemed a sufficient justification for what can scarcely be considered hon- orable conduct. It would, however, have been well for poor Marie- Antoinette had she followed more closely the advice contained in the letters of her austere mother, whose clear judgment was not to be deceived, and whose eagle glance saw so distinctly the future consequences of her daughter's youthful f oUies. CHAPTER II The Aroliducliess arrives at the Pavilion of Excliange in an island on the Ebine — The etiquette observed — Arrival at Compilgne, where she meets the King and the Dauphin — Arrival at Versailles — The marriage ceremony — The apart- ments of the Dauphine — The beauty of the young bride — The Abb6 de Vermond — HostUity of the Due de la Vauguyon — Madame de Noailles — Worries over etiquette — Daily life de- scribed in a letter to Maria Theresa — How pictures were painted by a queen — The neglected education of Marie-An- toinette — Incessant spying on her actions — A duke listening at doors — Madame du Barry — Intrigues to influence the Dauphin. ON May 6, 1770, after having, in those days of slow traveling, left Vienna on the 21st of April, Marie- Antoinette reached Schutteren — the last Grerman town before Kehl — and the bridge over the Ehine. A pavilion had been erected on the island in the middle of the river, where she was to be solemnly given to the French envoys sent to receive her, and where she was to meet her French household. It was noticed with surprise that the walls of the temporary building erected for this impressive cere- mony were hung with tapestry representing, by the most extraordinary choice imaginable, the story of Medea and Jason. In addition to this ill-omened reception, the weather was dark and stormy when 14 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE Marie- Antoinette crossed the tkreshold of tlie Pa- vilion of Exchange, as it was called; and a dark, threatening cloud, coming from the city of Stras- burg, was slowly advancing toward her over the Rhine. The three envoys of the French king stood in the central division as the door opened on the Austrian side and the Archduchess appeared. She advanced toward a platform in the center of the room while the formal surrender to the French was read over ; her Austrian attendants then kissed her hand and dis- appeared into the Austrian division, closing the door of separation. The Princess was then taken into a room on the French side, where she was undressed and clothed from head to foot in French attire, ac- cording to custom on such occasions. When ready, the door was thrown open, and the Princess appeared in fuU dress, as "Dauphine." Her French household was then formally presented to her; when, gracefully running to the Comtesse de NoaUles, her dame d'honneur, or first lady, the young Princess em- braced her with the earnest request that she would be her guide and counsel in the performance of the new duties which awaited her. On the French bank of the Rhine one of the sixty traveling-carriages sent to meet her took the Prin- cess to Strasburg ; but meanwhUe the storm, which had grown more and more dark and lowering during the ceremony, burst over the city, and terrific peals of thunder mingled with the cheers of the crowd AEEIVAL AT COMPlfiGNE 15 as Marie- Antoinette passed through, the gates — a dreary entry into her future kingdom! After a short rest at Strasburg, the Princess con- tinued her journey, finding in every town an en- thusiastic reception, with the usual speeches, flowers, and cries of the crowd, while all the bells rang a festive peal. On the 14th of May she reached Compifegne, where, at some distance from the town, she met the Due de Choiseul, whom she welcomed as a friend. A few minutes later, as she crossed the forest of Com- pi^gne, the King and the Dauphin, with a numerous escort, made their appearance coming to meet her. Marie- Antoinette immediately stepped from her carriage, and, running toward the King, threw herself on her knees at his feet, when he immediately raised and embraced her. The Dauphin, overpowered with shyness, hardly dared to look at his bride, but ven- tured to " salute her on the cheek." The next day the whole court left Compifegne for Versailles, stopping at St. Denis, where Marie- Antoi- nette wished to see her new aunt, Madame Louise, then a novice at the Carmelite convent, which caused intense delight to the nuns. She spent the night at the small chateau of La Muette, where the King presented her with a pearl necklace brought to France by Anne of Austria, and worn by the queens and dauphines of France, in which each pearl was the size of a hazel-nut and all were exactly of the same water. 16 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE On the 16th of May, 1770, at ten o'clock in the morning, Marie- Antoinette naade her official entry into that celebrated palace of Versailles which be- came her home till the outbreak of the French Revolution. The definitive marriage ceremony took place that morning in the chapel of Versailles, and was fol- lowed by great rejoicings. The youth of the bride, her childish grace, impressed every one favorably, and even the hostile " Mesdames " were propitiated. She was so yoimg, so pretty, so ingenuous, so ca- ressing, that the imperious Madame Adelaide at once concluded that she would be easily governed and directed in all things ; Madame Victoire, natu- rally indulgent and good-natured, saw in her only a pretty plaything whom she could not help loving; Madame Sophie never had any opinion of her own, so she followed in her sisters' steps, without much cordiality: — but that no one could expect from her. The King told Mercy that he found the young Dau- phine hvely, but " rather childish " ; adding, however, " but that is only natural at her age." The heavy, shy Dauphin was not demonstrative; stiU he admitted that he liked her face and conversation, that she was very agreeable, and that he was altogether well pleased. The memoirs of the time all dwell upon the prom- ises of her yet undeveloped beauty: the noble cast of her features, her brilliant complexion, the golden shade of her beautiful hair, her graceful manner, o c X < > z o > m I > Z -1 o z m ^-"'--^ / > H -) > m > ^,. ti-, •*t5a % # \K- ^gP^" raa^SS^" THE APARTMENTS OP THE DAUPHINE 17 and tlie remarkable dignity of lier attitude. She spoke French -well, with a slight German accent and some German idioms ; but she was so young and so completely suiTounded by French attendants that these traces of her foreign origin soon disappeared. On the first arrival of Marie- Antoinette at Ver- sailles the traditional apartments of the queens of France were not ready to receive her, and for the first six months she resided in temporary rooms on the ground floor of the palace. After this period she removed to the first floor, where a suite of splen- did rooms opening out of the " Galerie des Glaces," or HaU of Mirrors, was devoted to her use. The bedchamber had been used by Marie-Th6r5se, con- sort of Louis XIV, by the Dauphine (mother of Louis XV), and by Queen Marie Leckzinska, his consort. All the princes and princesses of France in the di- rect line had been born in this splendid apartment, which is stm shown to visitors. The immense "Galerie des Glaces" fills the pro- jecting center of the palace, looking toward the gardens; the large comer room with six immense windows, called " Salon de la Paix," which foUows, leads into the Queen's bedchamber, looking to the south toward the sheet of water called " Pifece d'eau des Suisses," framed in wooded hills. Nearer the palace are a parterre and the two staircases called "Escaliers des Cent Marches," or Hundred Steps.' These lead to the buUding called " I'Orangerie," 1 Literally the steps number one hundred and three. 18 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE where twelve hundred orange-trees were sheltered in winter. Such was the view on which Marie-Antoinette's eyes rested till the outbreak of the Revolution, when the royal family was forcibly taken to the Tuileries. The bedchamber is now empty and desolate, the only traces of her residence there being the large iron screws which secured the canopy over her bed, still to be distinguished in the ceiling, and a small door through which she escaped when the infuriated populace burst into the palace to take her life. This door led through a dark passage, lighted with lamps day and night, to the King's apartments, and was then concealed by hangings of Gobelin tapestry, which, separated by large mirrors, covered the walls. The bed was raised on steps behind a gilded balus- trade ; near the bed was a splendid dressing-table, which was pushed into the middle of the room for the official toilet, and was the handsomest piece of furniture that it contained. There were also arm- chairs with down cushions, tables for writing, etc., and two chests of drawers of elaborate workmanship. The curtains and hangings of the bed and windows were of rich but plain blue silk. The " tabourets," or stools, for those who had the privilege of being seated in the royal presence, with a sofa for the Queen's use, were placed against the walls, according to the formal custom of the time. The canopy of the bed was adorned with Cupids playing with garlands and holding gilt lilies, the royal flower. MADAME DE N0AILLE8 19 On the death of Marie Leekzinska all the furni- ture of her room had been given to her first lady, Madame de Noailles, and the room had remained unoccupied; all had therefore to be prepared anew for the Dauphine. Madame de NoaiUes, having been dame d'hon- neur to the late Queen, was naturally appointed to the same post in the household of the young Dau- phine; unfortunately the habits acquired when at- tending a very precise and aged princess rendered her particularly unfitted to direct a wilful, merry girl of fourteen, whom she annoyed incessantly by remonstrating on some unconscious breach of eti- quette. Madame de Noailles was essentially the court lady, stiff and formal, entirely absorbed by the rules of her position, and looking upon the small- est breach of custom as little less than a sin. The Princess was respectfully chided for having forgotten this or that detail of etiquette, or told that her smiles and bows had not been properly distributed accord- ing to rank, tUl the young Dauphine, who had a keen sense of the ridiculous, became both exasperated and diverted by the constant anxiety of her dame d?hon- newr. Madame de NoaUles seemed to be perpetually in the agonized state attributed to some old lord in wait- ing at one of Queen Victoria's first drawing-rooms, when, seeing the Queen make a move toward a lady presented, he cried aloud in great alarm, " Don't kiss her, Ma'am I She is not a peeress ! " the honor of a kiss from the sovereign being the privilege of peeresses. 20 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE Marie- Antoinette had been ill prepared by the simplicity of the court of Vienna for such minute observances. The Empress was so revered by the people, the imperial family was so loved, that it was not necessary to awaken respect by so many of the proverbial " externals." On the other hand, the in- tense haughtiness which lay behind prevented any close contact with that half-nobihty which had pushed its way into the precincts of the court of France. Such unexceptionable pedigrees and quar- terings were required before any one could hold a post giving familiar access to " Her Sacred Majesty," that all were of the same rank around her, and the nice distinctions of the French court were unknown. Unfortunately for Marie- Antoinette, the Abb6 de Vermond, who had accompanied her to France as reader, and who was strangely deficient in tact and judgment, instead of remembering the wise advice of Maria Theresa to her daughter, not to talk of Vienna or what was done there, constantly re- minded her of her mother's court, ridiculing to a willing listener the manifold ceremonies adopted in France. The Abb6 was an ill-bred man, of inferior birth and social education, who owed to his position as teacher of Marie-Antoinette exceptional favors at the court of Vienna, which had in some degree turned his brain. He presumed upon these past privileges to assert what he conceived to be his rightful position at Versailles, often offending the THE ABBfi DE VERMOND 21 personages who through their recognized rank held superior posts of honor at the court, with whom he affected a tone of equality which naturally caused great displeasure on the part of those who expected deferential respect. On the 8th of June, three weeks after the arrival of the young Princess, Mercy went to the palace to deliver into her hands a letter from her mother, the Empress, fuU of good advice. "The only real happiness in this world," she wrote, "is that which comes of a happy marriage. I can speak from experience. All depends on the wife: if she be obliging, amiable, and amusing^ Again the Empress warns her against familiarity, well knowing her good-natured, easy temper; also against the demands which would assail her from those wishing to use her influence in their favor — an error into which Marie-Antoinette, forgetting her mother's warnings, often fell at a later period. Mercy reached the palace during the usual card- playing; but as soon as the Dauphine saw him she called him to her, saying that she wished to speak to him. He urged her to finish the game, but as soon as possible she rose. "Seeing that I had a paper in my hand," says Mercy, " she at once understood that it was a letter from your Majesty, and seized it with great eager- ness, exclaiming, ^Oott seiBanJcP^ showing much joy at receiving this letter, which she read immediately." 1 God be thanked I 2* 22 THE STORY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE But troubles were already gathering round Marie- Antoinette, and her wise mother not being within reach, she was anxious to consult Mercy as to what she should better do. It was indeed necessary for the poor child to have a friend near her, for she was surrounded by oppo- nents, not the least important of whom was the Due de la Vauguyon, State Tutor, or, as it was termed, " Governor," of the Dauphin. In this instance there was no personal animosity, but only excessive jeal- ousy of any influence which might counterbalance his own over the docile but apathetic and obtuse Dauphin. He knew that the pretty young wife was too childish to be feared, but those around her might make her their instrument, and he particularly dis- liked and dreaded the Abb6 de Vermond. The difficulty which Marie-Antoinette wished to lay before her adviser reveals the extraordinary disorder which prevailed in the court ; for she in- formed Mercy that the persons who now held posts in her household, and who previously were employed in other ways, had not been paid their salaries for six months, and that Madame de NoaiUes urged her to interfere by speaking herself to the Contr61eur- Gen6ral.* What was she to do? Mercy approved, but had no time to say more, as the supper was served. When he went out the Com- tesse. de NoaiUes summoned him to her apartments, and there he learned that the Due de la Vauguyon 1 ControlIer-QeneTal of the household. HOSTILITY OP THE DUG DE LA VAUGUYON 23 was trying to get rid of the Abb6 de Vermond on pretense that his office of reader was a mere sine- cure, and that he was useless and out of place at court. Madame de NoaiUes complained bitterly of the proceedings of the Due de la Vauguyon, who tried in every way, by incessant misrepresentations, to diminish the attraction felt by the King toward the young Dauphine, adding that he caused Madame de NoaiUes herself so much annoyance by his inces- sant intrigues that she could bear it no longer, and would send in her resignation. Mercy felt that although Madame de NoaUles was not exactly the most desirable person in the world for the supreme position which she filled in the Dau- phine's household, yet that she was an estimable and thoroughly respectable woman, which in such a court might not be the case with her successor. He therefore exerted aU the influence that he could command to smooth over difficulties and pacify quarrels, interfering successfully with the King to prevent the dismissal of the Abb6 de Vermond. The cloud had blown over, but Mercy took advan- tage of the threatened storm to work upon the good feelings of Marie- Antoinette by telling her that the Abb6 could not, in justice to himself, retain his posi- tion unless the Princess accepted his services. The good Abbe had never known how to interest his pupil in her studies or readings, and certainly seems to have been something of what is familiarly called a bore ; but affectionate and warm-hearted as 24 THE STOKY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE was Marie-Antoinette, she could not bear to be tlie cause of tlie departure of an old and tried friend. Consequently, though, with evident reluctance, she promised to resume regular occupation under his di- rection. She had just reached the age when eman- cipation from school-room tasks is most earnestly desired, although she was still so childish that Mercy complains of her hoydenish ways, her fondness for romping with the young children of her attendants, and the consequent disorder of her dress. He notes also what were always marked characteristics of Marie- Antoinette — a strong sense of the ridiculous, and considerable pungency in the manner of calling atten- tion to anything of the kind which caught her fancy. In this, as in many other respects, Madame de NoaiUes ought to have exercised a wise and restrain- ing influence; but, although estimable, she was es- sentially narrow-minded, and so deeply imbued with respect for royalty that she dared not oppose the wishes of her young charge, limiting her solicitude to the minute observances of court etiquette. On this point alone she incessantly tormented the wilful young Princess, who, wearied and impatient, finally gave her the nickname of " Madame I'Etiquette." " Oh ! we must behave well now," she would say ; " here comes Madame I'Etiquette ! " We win let Marie- Antoinette herself relate the particulars of her daily life, in a letter to her mother dated July 12, 1770 — two months after her arrival at Versailles: d: m > r- > n m > > 7^ O < rn DAILY LIFE DKSCKIBED 25 "CH0IST/12tllJuly. " Madame mt veey dear Mothee : I cannot express how much I am affected by your Majesty's kindness, and I protest that I have not yet received one of your dear letters without tears of regret filling my eyes at being parted from such a kind and tender mother; and although I am very happy here, I should earnestly wish to return to see my dear, very dear family, if only for a short time. "We have been here since yesterday, and from one o'clock in the afternoon, when we dine, till one in the morntag, we cannot return to our own apart- ments, which is very disagreeable to me. After din- ner we have cards tiU six o'clock ; then we go to the play tUl half -past nine; then supper; then cards again till one o'clock, sometimes even half -past one ; only yesterday the King, seeing that I was tired out, kindly dismissed me at eleven, to my very great satisfaction, and I slept very well tiU half-past ten. " Tour Majesty is very kind to show so much in- terest in me even to the extent of wishing for an account of how I spend my time habitually." I will say, therefore, that I rise at ten o'clock, or nine, or half-past nine, and after dressing I say my prayers; then I breakfast, after which I go to my aunts',' where I usually meet the King. This lasts 1 One of the royal residences, destroyed during the Bevolution. 2 At Versailles. 3 The " Mesdamea." 26 THE STOET OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE till half-past ten. At eleven I go to have my hair dressed. At noon the 'Chambre' is called, and any one of sufficient rank may come in. I put on my rouge* and wash my hands before everybody; then the gentlemen go out ; the ladies stay, and I dress before them. At twelve is mass; when the King is at Versailles I go to mass with him and my husband and my aunts ; if he is not there I go with Monsieur the Dauphin, but always at the same hour. After mass we dine together before everybody,'^ but it is over by half -past one, as we both eat quickly. ^I then go to Monsieur the Dauphin ; if he is busy I return to my own apartments, where I read, I write, or I work, for I am embroidering a vest for the King, which does not get on quickly, but I trust that, with Grod's help, it will be finished in a few years. [!] At three I go to my aunts', where the King usually comes at that time. At four the Abb6 comes to me ; at five the master for the harpsichord, or the sing- ing-master, till six. At half -past six I generally go to my aunts' when I do not go out. You must know that my husband almost always comes with me to my aunts'. At seven, card-playing till nine; but when the weather is fine I go out, and then the card-playing takes place in my aunts' apartments instead of mine. At nine, supper; when the King is absent my aunts come to take supper with us ; if 1 Rouge was then a reeognized part of ooiirt dress. 2 Any well-dressed people were admitted to see the dinners of the royal family, which they witnessed separated from them by a railing only. Marie-Antoinette greatly disliked the custom. DAILY LIFE DESCRIBED 27 the King is there, we go to them after supper, and we wait for the King, who comes usually at a quar- ter before eleven ; but I lie on a large sofa and sleep tiU his arrival ; when he is not expected we go to bed at eleven. Such is my day. " I entreat you, my very dear mother, to forgive me if my letter is too long; but my greatest plea- sure is to be thus in communication with your Maj- esty. I ask pardon also for the blotted letter, but I have had to write two days running at my toilet, having no other time at my disposal; and if I do not answer all questions exactly, I trust that your Maj- esty will make allowances for my having too obe- diently burned your letter. I must finish this, as I have to dress and go to the Ejing's mass. I have the honor to be your Majesty's most submissive daughter, MABiE-ANTOrNETTE." After reading this graphic account of the frivolous obligations inseparable from the court life of the period, can any one be surprised that a girl not yet fifteen was carried away by the current of the stream, and felt no inclination for a more useful or more serious life? It was so easy and natural to plead impossibility ; aU the princesses she saw lived in the same manner, and did little but courtesy to the King at stated hours, and put on and off their cumbrous court dresses.^ "Why should she alone be expected to employ her time usefully and cultivate 1 The state dress of the Dauphine, mother of Louis XVI, weighed sizty-five pounds. 28 THE STOET OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE her mind ? The princesses of the period were cred- ited with accomplishments without much personal trouble. Pictures were shown, and may still be seen, signed by Marie Leckzinska, the consort of Louis XV, and supposed to be her work. How were they executed? "When the Queen went to her painting-room an artist was in attendance, who sketched all the outlines and prepared the faces and hands with all the most difficult parts. The palette was ready for the Queen. The artist took up the color on a brush, which he handed to her Majesty, repeating, "To the right — to the left ^higher — lower, Madame." When she had daubed the can- vas to her satisfaction during the short time at her disposal, she left the room to perform her royal du- ties; the artist then hastened to scrape and touch up the painting, which the poor Queen honestly imagined to be her own performance. In the same manner, when a royal lady undertook a piece of em- broidery which was to be shown as her work, a clever needlewoman picked out stitches and put in others, till the whole presented the appearance of perfection. Matters are managed very differently in modern times; but the education of Marie- Antoi- nette herseK had been carried on in this fashion, and she had innocently caused the dismissal of one of her governesses by telling the Empress that all her writing was traced in pencil, and she had only to go over it with a pen. In her letters to Mercy, the Empress complains INCESSANT spyma 29 bitterly of her daughter's handwriting and spelling, and again and again urges the necessity of taking up her education seriously. But it was very late to begin regular studies. In answer to an indignant letter from Maria The- resa, Mercy states that he spoke to the Abb6 de Vermond, who acknowledged deficiencies, but main- tained that the Dauphine never wrote so badly as when addressing her mother; the reason being that she did not consider what she wrote to be safe, and consequently delayed till the special messenger was about to leave, writing then in such haste that her letters were full of " inaccuracies due to precipi- tation." Whether with just cause or not, the Dau- phine considered no papers safe in her apartments ; she dreaded the use of false keys, or that her own should be taken from her pockets at night. Her fears were carried to such an extent that she actu- ally took her mother's letters to bed with her, as the only means of keeping them secure till the next day. What a picture of Hfe at the court of Louis XV! That the caution of Marie- Antoinette was not en- tirely unfounded is proved from the fact that the Due de la Vauguyon was actually caught Ustening at the door of the room where the Dauphine was conversing privately with her husband. Marie- Antoinette, in a letter to her mother, relates this disgraceful act, saying : " A servant, who was either very honest or very stupid, threw the door open, and there was the duke standing bolt upright, without 30 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE being able to get away. I remarked to my husband how very objectionable it was for people to listen at doors, and he took it very well." As yet there was only childish friendship between the boyish Prince and his young wife; he was amused at her playful ways, and good-naturedly submitted to aU her wishes, even to the prohibition of his favorite dainties, which disagreed with him, and which she ordered to be removed from the dinner-table without allowing him to partake of them. As he possessed the enormous appetite which characterized the Bourbons, this must have been a trial of temper for the young husband. Meanwhile the Due de la Vauguyon was not in- active, and did not scruple to put forward Madame du Barry as a means of keeping his influence over the Dauphin. The latter had boyishly expressed a wish to join the King's private hunting and shooting parties. Madame du Barry, to whom this was made known, immediately informed the King, who gave the required permission. The consequence was that the Dauphin, a boy of fifteen, was thus authorized not only to join the sport, but also to attend the sup- pers with the favorite which followed at the King's shooting-box called Saint-Hubert, where, as Mercy solemnly states, "the rules of propriety are not al- ways scrupulously observed." The "Mesdames," not unnaturally, were much alarmed at this emancipation of the young Prince, and at once determined to acquaint him with the INTRIGUES TO INFLUENCE THE DAUPHIN 31 real position of Madame du Barry and all the mis- cliief that she had already caused. The Dauphin was much shocked; his honest nature at once re- volted, and from that time he treated Madame du Barry with marked aversion. To his young wife he showed increased affection and confidence, en- tirely agreeing with her feelings as to the Due de la Vauguyon, and expressing his own with regard to Madame du Barry, though not without his usual caution. UnhappUy, Marie- Antoinette, childish as she was, repeated what she heard from the Dauphin to the " Mesdames," who in their turn entertained their at- tendants with this private gossip: hence incessant bickerings, intrigues, and jealousies. In vain Maria Theresa writes to her daughter: "Keep a neutral position in every thrag. ... I desire you to be more reserved than ever as regards what is going on ; listen to no secrets, and have no curi- osity. I am sorry to be obliged to say, confide no- thing — even to your aunts, whom I esteem so much. I have my reasons for saying this." But the open-hearted nature of Marie- Antoinette often prevented the prudence which her wise mother so earnestly inculcated. CHAPTEE m Objections to the DaupHne's wish to ride on horseback — Donkeys allowed, as "these animals are not at all dangerous" — What is to be done when a Dauphine of Prance falls from a donkey ? — The Dauphine yields to the temptation of riding a horse — A solemn ambassador — Threats of anger on the part of Maria Theresa — The Dauphine greatly frightened — Amiable nature of Marie-Antoinette — A Dauphine of France loses her shoe in the mud — Picture of the court of Louis XV — The Dau- pHne's position — DifiSculties and court cabals — Disgrace of Choiseul — The Dauphine proudly refuses to propitiate Ma- dame du Barry — The Dauphin and his brother fight in the presence of Marie- Antoinette — Marriages of the Comte de Pro- vence and the Comte d'Artois — Letters of Maiia Theresa — Illness of the King — Particulars of his death — "What etiquette required of a gentleman in waitiag. THE young Danpliiiie had a great wish to ride on horseback, which, in modern days, would give rise to no objections; but Mercy, foreseeing the dis- approbation of the Empress, applied to the King, through the Due de Choiseul, pleading the youth of the Princess and the probable want of moderation that she would show in the practice of " such violent exercise." The King satisfied them by refusing his consent to the use of horses, but allowed donkeys. Some exceedingly quiet specimens of the race were chosen, and the Dauphine rode with her ladies in the forest, Mercy gravely assuring the Empress that " these animals are not at all dangerous." MARIE-ADELAIDE-CLOTILDE-XAVIERE DE FRANCE. BY FRANCOtS-HUBEHT DR0UAI8, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. OBJECTIONS TO HORSEBACK EIDINa 33 Nevertheless, Marie-Antoinette managed to slip from her saddle and to have a harmless fall. Her ladies, much alarmed, flew to her assistance. She sat on the ground, suppressing a strong inclination to laugh, but would not be raised till they had as- certained "what was the etiquette to be observed when a Dauphine of France fell from a donkey." History does not enlighten us as to the rules ob- served on this momentous occasion, or the decision of " Madame I'Etiquette." The Dauphine continued to ride her donkeys, but with an ever-increasing desire for real equestrian exercise, notwithstanding the strong objections of her mother, who wrote that she would spoil her complexion and her figure, besides many other evils. Still the wilful young Princess longed more and more for a horse, instead of the humble substitutfe. Madame Adelaide — whether from a good-natured wish to satisfy her, or from a more treacherous motive, does not seem clear — suggested that she might set out for one of her donkey excursions, send- ing beforehand an equerry with a horse, and that at a stated place she might meet the horse and dis- miss the donkey. The Dauphine, though strongly tempted, pleaded the fear of displeasing her mo- ther, also that the King might refuse his permission; but Madame Adelaide overruled aU scruples, and finally the Dauphine consented. At the appointed place the horse met her, and the young Princess rode with great deUght and no danger, an equerry 34 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE holding the bridle and several attendants walking by her side. Marie-Antoinette enjoyed her ride, and not less the prospect of seeing " how Mercy would look," as she told the Duchesse de Chanlnes, who, of course, immediately repeated the childish jest to Mercy. The latter delayed attending her evening circle for a day or two, although he had letters from the Empress to deliver ; but finally he made an omi- nously solemn entrance into the presence of the young Dauphine, who at once called him to her, ask- ing if he knew that she had " ridden a horse." Mercy bowed low, and gravely answered, " Oui." The Dauphine then rejoined, with evident ner- vousness : " I was in great haste to tell you, but I did not see you, although every one immediately congra- tulated me on what had given me so much pleasure." StiU. solemn, Mercy replied that he should be much mortified if she supposed that he could join those who complimented her; that as he had real zeal and respect for what concerned her, he could only be grieved at what he thought injurious and likely to displease the Empress. At this the poor girl's countenance changed, and, exceedingly frightened, she said earnestly with child- like simplicity : " You would throw me into despair if you said that I could grieve the Empress; I assure you that I am in great anxiety," then eagerly bring- ing forward as her justification the King's consent and her wish to please the Dauphin by sharing his fa- vorite exercise. Mercy made no reply, but solemnly A SOLEMN AMBASSADOR 35 delivered tlie letters and retired, leaving poor Marie- Antoinette more frightened than ever. The whole, according to modern appreciation, would seem to be a case of "much ado about nothing." The next day the Princess sent for Mercy, and en- treated him to take her part and to justify her in the sight of her mother, the Empress, which he con- sented to do, provided she would promise not to follow hunts on horseback or to gallop. Mercy, in fact, warned Maria Theresa that as the King had consented, and the Dauphin had approved, it would be impossible to prevent Marie- Antoinette from continuing to indulge in exercise on horseback, and that the fruitless attempt might have injurious consequences with regard to the moral authority of the Empress over her daughter. Maria Theresa answered that she knew her daugh- ter sufficiently well to be quite convinced that no- thing would prevent her from doing anything that she strongly wished to do ; but that, nevertheless, she would write to her. Marie-Antoinette waited with great anxiety for her mother's answer with regard to equestrian ex- ercise, and eagerly asked Mercy if he had "good news" to give her. The letter of Maria Theresa, although hardly satisfactory, sufficed as a half au- thorization, of which she took advantage heartily. "You say that the King approves, also the Dau- phin; they must dispose of all concerning you. I have given them my pretty Antoinette." 36 THE 8T0EY OP MABIE-ANTOINETTE But the Empress dwells at length on all the evils which may result from this concession, and con- cludes : " Now that I have laid all this before you, I shall say no more, and shall try not to think about it." Marie- Antoinette had carried her point, and this was aU for which she really cared. Notwithstanding her childish wilfulness, her nature was so bright and amiable, that it was easy for her to win general popularity; but in what concerned the King her life was a perpetual struggle with court cabals, which created incessant difficulties. The position of Ma- dame du Barry was a particularly sensitive point on the part of the King, to whom the favorite com- plained bitterly of any slight, whUe the ladies of the Dauphine absolutely refused to yield her the prece- dence which she claimed. The blame of these squabbles fell on the young Princess herself. Still the pretty and winning Dauphine managed playfuUy to keep in favor with " Papa," as she called the King. The Dauphia, heavy and almost stupid as he seemed, was more and more captivated by his young wife, submitting to be scolded by her for his uncivilized ways, and ever ready to further her wishes, even when contrary to his own. He hated dancing, but as she hked it he arranged to have a ball every Monday in the private apartments of the young couple, but without ceremony, the ladies wearing white dominoes,* the gentlemen their ordi- 1 A pelisse, entirely enveloping the figure. AMIABLE NATURE OF MAKEE-ANTOINETTE 37 nary court dress. These balls were highly approved by Maria Theresa, as "a great advantage to the Dauphin," whose somewhat boorish manners really considerably improved, while he retained, neverthe- less, the good-natured simplicity which had always characterized him. Madame de Noailles having given a ball in her own private apartments, the Dauphin took his young wife on his arm and walked in unexpectedly, saying graciously to the hostess : " I hope, madame, that you will admit both hus- band and wife. We come not to inconvenience you in any way, but only to share your amusements." This condescension was highly appreciated by all present, and the Dauphine was credited with having civilized the young Prince. The minute difficulties and inconveniences which beset the Princess in her daily life would hardly be believed but for the testimony of competent wit- nesses. Mercy states in a letter to Maria Theresa : "I must call attention to the fact that the Dauphine, whose purse is nominally of six thousand livres ^ a month, has not in reality a single crown at her dis- posal. There are scandalous abuses here as regards money matters. The Dauphine's purse is given into the care of her treasurer, who keeps back two thou- sand five hundred livres every month for pensions granted by the late Queen, and which have fallen on the Dauphine without her knowing anything about them. Her gwrgons de chambre receive one 1 The livre was rather more than the modem fra&o. 38 THE STOKT OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE hundred loiiis a montli for the Dauphine's card- playing. Whether she wins or loses, no one sees anything more of this money. The Bedchamber women take charge of all the remainder, which is usually distributed in gifts suggested by Madame de NoaiUes, with the forced consent of the Dauphine, who thus keeps no money at her own disposal. She is certainly not well dressed, but that is the fault of the lady who has the charge of her wardrobe. This lady pays little attention to it, and has not much taste." The Dauphine was allowed a sum of 120,000 livres for her dress alone ; but she never interfered in any way, and everything was decided, without consulting her, by the dame d'atour, who ordered what was ne- cessary according to her own appreciation, and set- tled the bills of the various tradesmen. At the end of the year she presented incomprehensible accounts, which the Dauphine was required to sign and ap- prove, with the result that the Dauphine's expenses greatly exceeded the allotted sum, without any fault of her own. Mercy was called to the rescue, and discovered the most absurd extravagance. For instance, three eUs of ribbon, to tie the powdering-gown of the Dau- phine, were put down daily ; also several ells of silk (daily !) to cover the basket in which her gloves and fan were deposited, with many other items of the same kind, noted by Mercy in solemn reprobation. With all this waste, the arrangements around her PICTURE OF THE COURT OF LOUIS XV 39 were strangely deficient in comfort, as is proved by a trifling incident. In the latter part of Novem- ber the Dauphine and the "Mesdames," on their re- turn from Choisy to Versailles, partly followed the King's hunt in their carriage; but at a particular place where there was a river with a ferry, the " Mes- dames " became frightened, fearing an accident, and, despite the expostulations of the Dauphine, insisted upon alighting, although the ground was very muddy and marshy. Marie- Antoinette, forced to follow them, lost one of her shoes in the mud, and went back to Choisy thoroughly wet. She seems to have had there no means of changing her clothes, for she was obliged to dry them by a fire, to which she drew so near that she singed her dress. Not unnaturally, she became thoroughly chiUed, and on reaching Ver- sailles in her half-dried clothes found no fire pre- pared in her apartments, which did not improve matters. Of course she caught a violent cold, which, happily, was not followed by serious consequences. But the King's hunting-parties caused other evils. The Dauphine followed them two or three times a week, and in her ready good-nature she desired cold meats and refreshments to be taken in her carriage, which she distributed herself among the courtiers as " coUation." The natural consequence was that all the young men crowded round her, with the result of too much freedom and buoyancy of spirits on all sides, which greatly displeased the King. The kindness of Marie- Antoinette, which often led 40 THE STOBY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE her into difficulties, was not deficient on more serious occasions, and no accident or injury to any of her ser- vants ever failed to awaken her warmest sympathy, which was shown in the most efficacious manner. On one occasion, she was found in her apartments en- gaged in dressing and bandaging the wounded hand of an old servant, who had received some hurt in moving a piece of fm-niture at her request. The man seemed equally astonished and grateful on see- ing the anxiety and regret shown by the young Prin- cess, who attended to him as his daughter might have done. Another time, during a drive, a postihon was thrown from his horse and was seriously hurt. The Comtesse de Provence drove on with complete indif- ference, although the man belonged to her own stables. The Dauphine sprang from her carriage, ran to the man, and with anxious eagerness gave all necessary orders, and sent for medical assistance, refusing to leave the man till he had all the care re- quired. On another occasion, a peasant was wounded by an infuriated stag, during one of the King's hunt- ing-parties. The man's wife fainted, supposing her husband to be killed. The Dauphine ran to her, supported her in her arms, and gave her every as- sistance, with kind and soothing words of comfort. The warm heart of Marie- Antoinette never failed to respond to any appeal. Her mother's severe letters, the troublesome inter- ference of Mercy, the exhortations of the Abb6 de Vermond, never ruffled her sweet temper or pro- LOUIS-STANISLAS-XAVIER DE BOURBON, COMTE DE PROVENCE, AFTERWARD LOUIS XVIII. PHOTOGRAPH BY BflAUN, CLEMENT S. CO. N. ¥., OF A PAINTING BY JEAN-h BELONGING TO MAHQUI3 DE VIRIEU AT THE CHATEAU DE LANTILLY VRTIAL FREOOU, THE DAUPHINE'S POSITION 41 voked a word of rebellion. "I admire every day her gentleness and docnity," says the Abb6 de Vermond. "She allows me, in the presence of her dame ^honneur and her bedchamber women, to express truths which, though respectfully worded, are firm and stronger than what I used to say to her at Vienna in her private room. I know that I owe her confidence to the approbation of the Empress; but is it not remarkable that it should be persistent, and that the Dauphine should have the moral courage to keep near her a troublesome monitor in the midst of so much flattery and adulation 1 " But although always gentle and submissive, there was one point in which no satisfactory result could be obtained — that of regular occupation. In vain Maria Theresa incessantly refers • to troublesome questions, and insists upon a definite account of what is really done, requiring a list of the books read. The so-called "studies" with the Abb6 de Ver- mond were, in fact, only insignificant conversations, and Marie- Antoinette began to be frightened at her mother's pertinacious inquiries. " What am I to do f Mama wishes for an account of my readings ! " "You will surely teU the truth, Madame " ; and the Abb6 made fresh exhortations, with the suggestion of writing a summary of the " readings." But how, and when? There was an incessant going in and out of officials in the -Dauphine's apart- ments, and the Abb6 dreaded suspicion of political 42 THE STORT OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE interference on his part if he were seen writing with her. The Dauphine might write alone, but he feared " her carelessness and indolence, which would induce her to put off the effort, and finally omit it." "Our princes and princesses," says Vermond, " when their education is considered finished, have no regular occupation and listen to no advice. They may be governed in fact, but are not enlightened or directed." This was not quite the case with Marie- Antoinette, who received remonstrances from all sides. She was full of good resolutions, sincerely promised amend- ment, and — with much self-reproach — went on as before ! She romped with childi-en; she played with dogs; she laughed and chatted with "my aunts"; she fol- lowed hunts even on horseback, notwithstanding her word pledged to her mother ; she danced, and so her hfe passed despite her dread of "mama's" scruti- nizing letters. The attention of the wise mother became, how- ever, engrossed by a more serious matter — the im- pending fall of Choiseul, who had always been a stanch supporter of the Austrian alliance, and had settled the marriage of the Dauphin with the Arch- duchess Marie- Antoinette. The fall of Choiseul was not only of the greatest importance to Maria Theresa, by withdrawing from the French government her most valuable friend, but it was also an event which gained greater mag- DIFFICULTIES AND COUET CABALS 43 nitude as a criterion of the influence to be attributed to Madame du Barry. Choiseul had always treated the favorite with the contempt that she deserved, and the ladies of his family had spoken of her in unsparing terms, especially his sister, the clever and spirited Beatrice de Choiseul, Duchesse de Gramont,^ who was known to have great influence over her brother. Madame du Barry consequently hated the whole family, and was determined to remove their obnox- ious presence from Versailles, leaving nothing un- tried to reach this end. She playfully but incessantly teased the King, winding up her arguments by toss- ing oranges as she laughingly repeated: "Jump, Choiseul! Jump, Praslin!"* Meanwhile her supporters importuned the King more seriously, calling his attention to the supposed danger of Choiseul's liberal views and his alleged connivance with the rebellious Parliament. Testi- mony which seems to have been false was brought forward to prove this ; the Prince de Cond^, a mem- ber of the royal family, was persuaded to speak to the King, and the chancellor threatened to resign if the prime minister were not dismissed. What with Madame du Barry's oranges and teas- ing, added to the solemn warnings of politicians, the 1 The Duchesse de Gramont died on the scaffold during the French Bevolntion, disdaining to save her life at the expense of a falsehood. There are two families of the same name — Grammont and Gramont. 2 "Saute, Choiseul I Saute, Fraslinl" (The Duo de Choiseul was also Due de Fraslin.) 44 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE peace of the indolent old monarcli was sufficiently disturbed to induce Mm to get rid of Choiseul at any cost. The prime minister was informed of his disgrace by a stem letter from the King expressing great dis- satisfaction with his services, and enjoining him to retire to his country house, which he was not to leave without permission. This, in the language of the time, was called " going into banishment." Choiseul took the matter coolly, and immediately went to Paris, where he found the duchess, his wife, just sitting down to dinner. She at once said to him: "You look like a ban- ished man ; but sit down — your dinner will not be the less good." They dined quietly; the duke then spent the re- mainder of the day in the settlement of business matters, and the next morning he retired to his country-seat of Chanteloup with his wife and sister, followed by numerous friends who remained faithful to him, notwithstanding his fallen fortunes. Mercy writes shortly afterward (April 16, 1771) to Maria Theresa, giving a strange picture of the court: " It is almost impossible that your Majesty should form a correct idea of the horrible confusion which reigns' here. The throne is disgraced by the exten- sive and indecent influence of the favorite, and the wickedness of her partizans. "The nation shows its feeling by seditious re- marks and disloyal pamphlets, where the person of BISGEACE OF CHOISEUL 45 the sovereign is not spared. Versailles is the abode of treachery, spite, and hatred; everything is done through motives of personal interest, and all honor- able feeling seems to be discarded." Madame du Barry had proved her power, and Maria Theresa was too good a politician not to draw her own conclusions as to the necessity of conciliat- ing the favorite. But here she met with unexpected resistance from Marie-Antoinette, who would not stoop to any advances toward a woman whom she despised. In vain Maria Theresa brought forward the plau- sible argument that she had no right to judge her grandfather or to look upon Madame du Barry's po- sition as different from that of any other lady ad- mitted to his court. For once Marie- Antoinette was rebellious, and plainly declared to her mother that she would do anything to satisfy her except what was " contrary to honor." Great was the wrath of the Empress, who in her reply showed so much indignation at the insinuation that she could advise anything " contrary to honor," that the poor young Dauphine finally was driven to half measures, which, as usual, satisfied no one and decidedly displeased Madame Adelaide, whose aver- sion for Madame du Barry was not concealed, and who required the same attitude from her nephew's wife. In aU these difficulties, the Dauphin was too timorous and too undecided in his actions to be of any real use or support to the young wife thus 46 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE besieged by conflicting advice and exigencies. Al- though the marriage of the Comte de Provence was in serious preparation, the royal brothers were still such absolute school-boys that they quarreled and fought even in the presence of Marie- Antoinette, who on one occasion hurt her hand in trying to separate them. They were aU, in fact, mere children, and should be judged as such. The Dauphin had received a good, plain education, and possessed a considerable amount of stohd good sense, with the best and most honorable feelings. He was thoroughly kind-hearted and good-natured; unfortunately, he was conscious of his external defi- ciencies, and was consequently so painfully shy and timid that his natural awkwardness was consider- ably increased. He seldom knew what to say or do, or when it should be said or done. This unfortunate hesitation followed him through life, and was the principal cause of many misfortunes. Even toward his young wife, whom he deeply loved, he could not bring himself to show his real affection; and al- though always kind and particularly good-natured, he seemed indifferent and even cold in his treat- ment of her. The Comte de Provence was more intelligent than his elder brother, and rather pedantic, fond of classic studies and quotations. He was jealous of his bro- ther's superior rank, and quite convinced that he himself was far more capable of filling his position. In this he was, perhaps, not wholly mistaken. He MAERIAGE OF THE COMTE BE PEOVENCE 47 ■was reserved and prudent, but neither straightfor- ward nor sincere; he had, however, far more tact than the Dauphin, and knew better how to steer his way through court intrigues and cabals. The Comte d'Artois was a complete scapegrace, who behaved like a spoiled child and followed his very questionable tastes without restraint. His ap- pearance and manners, nevertheless, distinguished him favorably from his brothers, that is, when he chose to behave like a gentleman, which was not always the case. The question of the marriage of the Comte de Provence, soon to be followed by that of the Comte d'Artois, was a subject of fresh anxiety to Maria Theresa and her faithful Mercy. Would the Princess chosen be a friend or an enemy ? What would be her influence over the King and the "Mesdames"? The final choice of a princess of Savoy, daughter of the Prince of Piedmont (afterward King of Sardinia), was agreeable to the latter, — any one rather than an Austrian, — and many cutting insinuations were thrown out by Madame Adelaide, sometimes en- dured with seeming unconsciousness, sometimes taken up sharply by Marie- Antoinette. " If mama could see how things go on here, she would be less severe in her judgment of me," said the Dauphine to Mercy ; " matters are really unen- durable." The Princess of Savoy arrived — shy, insignificant, and absolutely devoid of beauty. Her portraits give 48 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE the idea of a dark, full face with coarse features and thick Hps, redeemed only by fine dark eyes. But the first impression of the King was unfavorable. " She is very ugly ! " was his characteristic remark. The Dauphin, with his usual blunt sincerity, ex- pressed much the same opinion to his brother, who, to his credit, replied with dignity: "I like her as she is." There could be no comparison between the Dau- phine and her sister-in-law — a fresh source of envy, increased by the marked preference shown by the King to the pretty and graceful Dauphine. With her natural warmth of feeling, aided by the poUtic advice of Mercy, Marie- Antoinette tried in every way to propitiate the Comtesse de Provence, and, though with some fluctuations due to ill-natured remarks from the " Mesdames," she succeeded in es- tablishing friendly intercourse; but, from time to time, small incidents revealed a degree of duplicity on the part of both the Comte and Comtesse de Provence which especially shocked and chilled the open-hearted frankness of Marie-Antoiuette. On one of these occasions she ran to her husband and embraced him, saying earnestly : " I feel that I love you every day more and more. Your honesty and frankness charm me, and the more I compare you to others, the more I know how much greater your worth is than theirs." This efEusive speech, although so evidently sincere, did not suffice to give confidence to the too diffident ANTOINE-PAUL-JACQUES DE QUELEN DE STUER DE CAUSSADE, DUG DE LA VAUGUYON. AFTER A PHOTOQRAPH By BRAUN, CLEMENT A CO., N. Y., OF THE PAINTINQ BY MLLE. BRE3S0N. THE DAUPHIN 49 Prince. Some time after this incident he suddenly- asked his wife: "Do you really love me?" She earnestly replied: "Indeed I do, and every day I esteem you more highly." He seemed happy on receiving this assurance, but his uncouth manners and awkward ways often irri- tated the Dauphine, who lost patience and reproved him sharply. He showed no anger at these remon- strances, but his eyes would fiU with tears. When she saw this she embraced him, and her own tears would flow ; but notwithstanding her efforts and his good intentions, the attempt to civUize the Dauphin seemed hopeless. As a boy he had been neglected, and, with his very sensitive heart, the absence of aU tenderness and affection around him had made him shrink within himself and become incapable of expressing what he weU knew how to feel. After the death of his mother he had said mournfully: "Whom can I love now? No one loves me here I " He now loved his wife, but could hardly believe that she returned his affection. The death of the Due de la Vauguyon delivered Marie-Antoinette from an adversary, if not an enemy. Unhappily, the Due d'AiguiUon, who had replaced Choiseul as prime minister, headed the anti- Austrian party, and was on terms of intimate friendship with Madame du Barry, This was enough to cause in- tense dislike on the part of Marie- Antoinette, which she showed with her characteristic but impolitic frankness. In vain her wary mother and Mercy 50 THE STOKY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTB remonstrated, both understanding only too well that she was wilfully creating a dangerous enemy. She could not understand how advisers whom she re- spected could exhort her to feign what she did not feel. But meanwhile the Comte de Provence and his wife, the latter guided by her cautious husband, did all that the Dauphine did not do, and ingratiated themselves with those whom she haughtily disdained. The marriage of the Comte d'Artois to the sis- ter of the Comtesse de Provence soon followed, at- tended by the usual intrigues. The Princess was not endowed with more beauty or grace than her sister, though with a better complexion, — her only superiority. But she was less intelligent and more disagreeable in manner. The sisters had never been on very affectionate terms in their father's palace, and they now agreed only in their immensely high opinion of the naerits of the house of Savoy, to which they belonged, and in jealousy of the superior rank and greater personal attractions of the Dau- phine, to whom they unwillingly yielded the pre- cedence which was her due. "If I am not to be a queen, I am of the stuff of which queens are made," the Comtesse de Provence remarked haughtily ; and at a later period, when Marie- Antoinette had be- come Queen of France, the Comte d'Artois one day found his sisters-in-law in sharp discussion beyond what the respect required by etiquette could allow. The Queen, with heightened color, turned to him: "Jfow frere, here is Madame, who maintains that INCESSANT SQUABBLES 61 the house of Savoy holds the first rank among royal families. Now every one knows that the house of Austria is the highest of all." " Madame," quickly replied the French prince, " I know nothing of the kind. I thought you were speaking seriously; but as I see now that you must be in jest, nothing more need be said on the subject." Marie-Antoinette felt the lesson conveyed, and said no more ; but from the first arrival of the Pied- montese princesses, the daughter of the German Caesars could not maintain her position without incessant struggles. In her dislike for court tram- mels, she had gladly allowed Madame Adelaide to continue to preside over the official circle in the evenings, which was her own prerogative as future queen; but Mercy now insisted upon her right be- ing immediately claimed, lest it should be usurped by the Comtesse de Provence, who would thus be placed in a superior position. " Trifles light as air " caused incessant squabbles, notwithstanding the amiable efforts of Marie- Antoi- nette to promote peace and affectionate intimacy with her sisters-in-law. The aunts interfered, tak- ing part now with one, now with another, but more frequently blaming Marie- Antoinette. The state visit of the Dauphin and Dauphine to Paris, which ought to have taken place on their marriage, but which had been constantly deferred, was at last granted by Louis XV. The Dauphine 52 THE STOEY OP MAKIE-ANTOINETTE "Won all hearts by her grace and charm of manner ; even the Dauphin sufficiently conquered his habit- ual shyness to produce a favorable impression ; and when they both appeared on that balcony of the palace of the Tuileries* where so many princesses have been presented to the population of Paris, the enthusiasm with which the Dauphine was greeted knew no bounds. Marie-Antoinette, describing the scene to her mother, the Empress, exclaims: "How happy we should feel in our state, on winning so easily the love of a whole nation ! And yet nothing is so pre- cious. I felt this deeply, and shall never forget it." Alas! the love of a nation is fickle, and Marie- Antoinette was destined to learn its insecurity! The Empress continued her exhortations and rep- rimands, without ever provoking rebellion on the part of her really remarkably submissive daughter, who tried to improve, renewed her resolutions, and, though with fluctuations, read more regularly with the Abb6 de Vermond, studied music, and made considerable progress, especially on the harp, which she particularly liked. She also danced very grace- fully and well. The poor Dauphin took lessons with her, but with his ungainly figure and heavy steps never reached the desired result. The Empress com- plained of her daughter's letters as too laconic and cold; but when exhorted by Mercy on the subject of showing affection to her mother, poor Marie-Antoi- 1 The last royal bride who appeared there was the Empress Eugfinie. LETTERS OP MABIA THERESA 53 nette replied : " I love tlie Empress, but I fear her, even at a distance. When I write I never feel at ease with her." To this Maria Theresa replies : " Do not say that I scold, that I preach, but say: 'Mama loves me, and has constantly my advantage in view; I must believe her and comfort her by following her good advice.' You will find the benefit of this, and there win then be no further shadow between us. I am sincere, and I exact great sincerity and candor to- ward myself." But in writing to Mercy the Empress speaks se- verely of Marie- Antoinette. "Notwithstanding all your care and discernment in directing my daughter, I see only too clearly how unwilling are her efforts to follow your advice and mine. In these days only flattery and a playful tone are liked ; and when, with the best intentions, we address any serious remon- strance, our young people are wearied, consider that they are scolded, and, as they always suppose, with- out reason. I see that this is my daughter's case. I shall, nevertheless, continue to warn her when you see that it may be useful to do so, adding some amount of flattery, much as I dislike that style." She adds that she has not much hope of success in con- quering her daughter's " indolence." Notwithstanding her mother's asperity, Marie- An- toinette really loved her ; if she knew that the Em- press was either ill in health or unhappy, she wept bitterly and seemed miserable. "With regard to the 4* 54 THE STOKY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE vexed question of the readings with the Abbe, the few books whose titles are quoted are so uninterest- ing and of such poor literature that her dislike to them cannot cause surprise. The poor good man had really no idea of choosing books that could in- terest a young girl or develop her mind. The enthusiastic reception which the young couple had met from the Parisians led them to return to Paris and appear at the opera and theaters, where they were always well received. But the young members of the royal family, encouraged by the free use of these pleasures, took a strong fancy to see the public masked ball at the Opera. Every precaution being taken as to the manner in which they were surrounded, so as to obviate the evident drawbacks to such an amusement, the King consented to the freak, which was much enjoyed. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of the excessive liking shown at a later period by Marie- Antoinette for such ob- jectionable diversions. Theatricals also became a passion. The young princes and princesses got up charades and even plays in their private apartments, with only the Dauphin as spectator, and so far there was no harm. The Dauphin, seeing how much all this was enjoyed, established a small theater in his apartments, where short, amusing plays were performed by profes- sional actors ; these, too, were received with delight. Everything that could isolate them from the solemn pleasures of the court was welcome to all the young THEATBICAliS AND CAED-PLAYING 55 people. There were, however, balls given in the pal- ace which the Dauphine liked sufl&eiently to remain tiU six o'clock in the morning ; she then heard mass, and went to bed till two o'clock in the afternoon. On such occasions it may be supposed that the lit- erary interviews with the Abb6 were omitted. The pleasures which they shared with the King, even when comparatively harmless, had other seri- ous drawbacks. In one evening, at the King's play of lansquenet, the Dauphine won twelve hundred louis.^ Much annoyed at her success, she tried to lose the sum again ; finally, at the end of the game, she retained a profit of seven hundred louis. The next morning she sent fifty louis to each of the two prin- cipal parishes of Versailles for the poor, and con- sulted Mercy as to the disposal of the remainder, declaring that she would keep nothing for herseH. Mercy advised her to divide the sum between her servants, who had now remained a year and a half without receiving their wages ; this the Dauphine effected immediately, which caused general satisfac- tion. Mercy notes that she was not naturally gen- erous, and that when gifts were received from her they had been extorted by importunity which she could not resist; but in general she did not spon- taneously show even sufficient liberality for the requirements of her high position. Time went by, gradually developing the peculiari- 1 The lords was then worth nearly twenty-five francs (between four and five dollars). 56 THE STOBY OF MAEIE-AI^TOINETTE ties of eacli member of the royal family. The young Dauphine, surrounded by jealous intrigues and cabals incessantly renewed, sought rehef from troublesome cares in constant amusement; but she remained amiable and kind to aU through every provoca- tion, always trying to conciliate and to make peace, but often exaggerating sincerity, and imprudent in her confidence. The Dauphin, honest, honorable, straightforward, but blunt and rough in manner, had an amount of physical strength which he needed to expend, and consequently indulged in violent exercise, and even manual labor, to the great annoy- ance of the Dauphine. He liked to make incessant changes in his apartments, and worked himself with the men employed at their various trades, recklessly soiling his hands and his clothes in very unroyal fashion, to the astonishment and consternation of the courtiers around him. The Comte and Comtesse de Provence, cautious and prudent, but often treach- erous, constantly tried to make mischief out of some incautious word or unguarded act of the Dauphine, but preserved smooth appearances. The Comte d'Artois, now emancipated from the restraint of his tutors, showed the worst possible tendencies, with an amount of insubordination and rudeness that even the patient Dauphin was forced to repress ; the Comtesse d'Artois, while less treacherous than her sister, was openly disagreeable, jealous, and ill-tempered. The "Mesdames," who might have played a judi- cious and pacifying part in aU these minute squab- ILLNESS OF THE KING 57 bles, made matters worse by listening to all the gossip retailed by their attendants, and showing their pref- erences according to the impressions received. The King seemed more apathetic than ever, but gloomy, and as if beset by dark forebodings. His day was at hand, and he appeared to foresee the coming doom. On April 28, 1774, Louis XVfelt the first symp- toms of illness while at Trianon, his favorite summer palace adjoining Versailles, to which he returned immediately. During the night of the 29th, the characteristic eruption of smallpox appeared, in its worst form. "With admirable devotedness, the King's daugh- ters came to his bedside, notwithstanding the dread- ful danger of contagion, and remained there day and night till his death. Marie-Antoinette had asked admittance to his room, but, for very evident reasons, neither the heir apparent nor his wife were allowed to breathe an atmosphere so dangerous that more than fifty persons took the smallpox, merely from having crossed the gallery before the door of the King's room, and several died. Monsieur de L6to- riferes took the disease fatally, merely through having opened the door to look at the King for two minutes. Eegardless of danger, the Archbishop of Paris came to Versailles, and in order to be ready in the case of any emergency, he took up his residence at the house of the Lazarist fathers. He was anxious to secure the means of repentance and a Christian 58 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE death to the wretched sinner, but, at the same time, he declared that he would not allow the last sacra- ments of the church to be administered to the dy- ing man, unless Madame du Barry were previously dismissed from the palace. Enraged at this, her friends and supporters, headed by the Due d'Aiguil- lon, tried to conceal from the King the real nature of his malady and the danger of his position. Hap- pily, notwithstanding all his vices, the King had (preserved religious faith and fear of death and judg- anent. One of his physicians, probably influenced ■by the King's religious and devoted daughters, ad- mitted the truth, which the King anxiously suspected, ■and a priest* was demanded, imperiously, by the sick •man, at three o'clock in the morning of the 7tli of May. He had several interviews with the King, who ,had previously (on the 4th of May) allowed Madame du Barry to be removed, the Duchesse d'AiguiUon taking her in her own carriage to a country house be- longing to the Due d'AiguiUon. There was conse- quently no further obstacle to the administration of the last rites of the church, which were given to the King in the presence of the Archbishop of Paris, who had drawn up a declaration, which was read aloud previously, in the name of the King, express- ing his sorrow and repentance for the scandal of his life, and his resolution of amendment if it were spared. The King, who seemed deeply impressed, iThe Ablifi Maudoux, confessor of Marie-Antoinette, by -whom he was highly appreciated. THE DEATH OP THE KING 59 then said aloud, "Eepeat that," which was done before all present. After this public retraction of his error, the last rites of the church were then ad- ministered to the dying King, who received also the viaticum. Shortly afterward his condition became more alarming, and it was evident that the end was at hand. After an interval of violent delirium he recovered consciousness, which he retained to the last, showing feelings of repentance. The courtiers crowded in the large room called "Salle de I'CEil de Boeuf," where they habituaUy awaited the King's pleasure. It was so called from a large window, of bull's-eye shape, which distin- guished this room from the others. The carriages were in readiness to take the royal family to Choisy; a lighted candle placed in the window of the King's apartment was to be extinguished as the signal for departure, which the fear of contagion, in addition to other considerations, caused to be impatiently expected. It was a maxim of old French law that " the King never dies." Consequently, when the head physician solemnly announced, "Gentlemen, the King is dead ! " the response of all present, in ac- cordance with time-honored custom, was : " Long live the King ! " (" Vive le roi ! ") The candle was extinguished ; the great clock was stopped at the fatal hour — 3 p. M. It was the 10th of May, 1774. The rush of the courtiers, with a noise like thunder, as they hastened 60 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE to pay homage to the new sovereign, was the first announcement of the great event to the young heir and his wife. Louis XVI and Marie- Antoinette burst into tears, and with a joint impulse fell on their knees, ex- claiming : " God help us and protect us ! We are too young to reign!" The Bang was not yet twenty; the Queen was in her nineteenth year. Madame de NoaUles came into the room where they had remained together in seclusion and anxious expectancy, and, addressing them by their new titles, begged them to receive the dignitaries who had come to pay homage to the King and Queen. The Queen appeared leaning on the King's arm ; weeping bitterly, she received the first visits of the royal family and the principal officials; but the physicians urged the necessity of immediate de- parture. The carriages were ready, and the whole court set off for Choisy, leaving the wretched remains of the late sovereign to the care of servants and workmen, who wrapped the corpse in a sheet and hastily placed it in a coffin, where the physicians had ordered that spirits of wine should be poured. When the Due de Villequier, first gentleman in waiting, left the late King's room immediately after his death, he reminded the first surgeon that his duty obliged him to open the body and embalm it. Under the circum- stances, this would have entailed certain death. " I am ready," replied the surgeon; "but, while I operate, you must hold the head; it is the duty of your post." PARTICULARS OF THE KING'S DEATH 61 The duke said no more, and left the room hastily ; the corpse -was not embalmed. The unfortunate workman who soldered the lead coffin died within twenty-four hours. The corpse was taken to St. Denis, the burial-place of the kings of France, during the following night, with a military escort, followed by the execration of the populace loudly expressed on the way. At St. Denis it was considered necessary to wall up the coffin; for, notwithstanding all the precautions taken, the emanations were so dreadful, that danger was feared. The scandalous reign of Louis XV was ended; a new reign was beginning. " Le roi est mort ! " " Vive le roi ! " CHAPTER IV The young King and Queen — Marie- Antoinette receives in state the great ladies of the land — Difficulties in obtaining due respect from the King's brothers and their wives — Too much kindness and indulgence — The Queen prepares private apartments as a refuge from too much splendor — Her daily Hfe — The beauty and grace of the Queen — Etiquette and customs — Trianon and its improvements — The Queen's dairy — The Queen's extravagant fashions — Tastes of the King — His love of himting — Dangerous influence of the Comte d'Artois — Public criticism. ANEW reign was beginning, and never, perhaps, with more hopes or more general expectations of coming prosperity. The nation was so weary of the vices of Louis XV, so irritated by the shameless extravagance for which they were crushed with taxes and reduced to grinding poverty, that anything new and wholly dif- ferent from the past was hailed with enthusiastic anticipations — in fact, so excessive that they could only prove delusive. The young King was known to have led hitherto an irreproachable life, and to profess the best moral and religious principles. Instead of the abandoned women who had disgraced the court of his prede- cessor, there was now a young and innocent Queen, THE YOUNG KING AND QUEEN 63 of whom little was known, but much was expected, without remembering sufficiently her youth and in- experience. Meanwhile, Madame Adelaide, always ambitious and domineering, was striving to establish her in- fluence over the King, and began by obtaining from his too yielding temper the nomination as prime minister of her particular proteg6, the Comte de Maurepas — a choice blamed by all writers on the plea of the incapacity and frivolity of the man who would now in fact govern France. Alarmed by this first success of Madame Adelaide, Mercy expatiated on the absolute necessity of the di- rect interference of Marie- Antoinette to prevent the King from being governed by others, as he would certainly be. But the young Queen knew nothing of political questions, and cared stUl less for such matters, which she thought insufferably wearisome; while even the grave Maria Theresa had misgivings as to the propriety of inducing one so young to play a part the danger of which her own sagacity foresaw. The illness of the three " Mesdames," who had all caught the smallpox while attending their father so devotedly, pacified Mercy for the time, as the young royal family were required to leave Choisy imme- diately, for fear of infection. The court removed to the small ch§,teau of "La Muette," near Paris,* and here Marie- Antoinette received in state all the ladies 1 « La Muette " is still to be seen at Pasay, but the grounds have been much injured by the passage of the Belt Railway. 64 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINBTTE of the high nobility, who, young and old, came in deep mourning to pay homage to the new Queen. The occasion was one of great solemnity, and Marie- Antoinette, surrounded by her ladies in wait- ing, all in sable attire, stood prepared to go through the ordeal with due gravity. Unfortunately, the habits of familiarity Against which her mother had so often warned her, but which her easy good-na- ture had nevertheless tolerated far too much, in- duced one of her ladies, — the Comtesse de Clermont- Tonnerre, — who was tired of standing behind the Queen, to sit down on the floor, concealed by the hoops of the other ladies, and to play the most ridiculous and improper tricks during the solemn obeisances of the dignified old dowagers who passed in turn before her Majesty. The contrast between this childish nonsense and the lugubrious solemnity of the scene diverted the Queen, so that instead of at once stopping what was so obviously improper on such an occasion, she laughed several times behind her fan, hastily put up by way of an inadequate at- tempt at concealment. The astonishment and anger of the ladies received may be imagined, and were certainly not unnatural under the circumstances. All left the palace with displeasure, and soon it was reported, even in the distant provinces, where the story became a matter of tradition, that on her first solemn reception of the noble ladies of the land the Queen had burst out laughing in their faces! Nothing is a trifle at a v V - J JL-i'|i , ^1 .-: MARIE-ADELAIDE DE FRANCE. AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTINO BY JEAN-MARC NATTIER, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. THE GREAT LADIES EECEIVED IN STATE 65 court, and this small incident considerably chilled the first enthusiasm with which the new reign had been welcomed. The new King had banished Madame du Barry from the court and sent her to a convent, where she remained for some time. When partly forgotten she was mercifully reinstated in her pretty house at Louveciennes, given to her by the late King, and was also sufficiently provided for. Marie-Antoi- nette, who at first had written harshly of "that creature," nevertheless contributed to these more indulgent decisions; and to the credit of Madame du Barry be it said that she showed the deepest gratitude, expressed most humbly. When evil days came she wrote to the Queen offering her all she possessed in such terms that Marie- Antoinette was much moved, although she did not accept the offer.* The royal couple visited in turn the palaces of Marly, Compiegne, and Fontainebleau. At Marly the King decided on being inoculated with his brothers, as a preservative against smallpox. This resolution caused considerable alarm, inoculation being stiU a novelty in France; happily, success was complete, and all anxiety was quickly dispelled. Louis XVI was not devoid of the sentimental ten- dencies of the period, notwithstanding his rough 1 Madame du Barry was guillotined during the Revolution ; and it was noted that she was the only woman who wept and begged for mercy on the scaffold. Her screams and entreaties were so dreadful that even the populace was moved; but she was forced on the plank while still imploring "one minute more." 6 66 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE manners and unromantic exterior. He began by declaring that the title of "brother" was what he valued most ; that his brothers and sisters were not to use the word "Majesty" in addressing him, but that he was to be called "Mon frfere." The Queen, according to etiquette, addressed him as "Mon- sieur." He soon discovered, however, that the princes were only too much disposed to assume equality, and that in the case of the Comte d'Artois especially it would not be easy to enforce due respect. The Queen also found that her sisters-in-law neglected to pay court to her at the usual hours, and that her carelessness in claiming the privileges of her rank caused omission of proper deference. Natur- ally haughty, the Queen felt sharply any intentional slight, and showed her displeasure by increase of pride in her demeanor, which was resented by the princesses. A further degree of coolness was pro- voked by the King's discovery of the double-dealing of the Comte and Comtesse de Provence, revealed by their letters found among the papers of the late King. There was consequently some amount of un- pleasant feeling in the royal family at the time of the general return to Versailles in September, which marked the beginning of the purely ofificial position and duties of each. The King occupied the apartments of his prede- cessor ; the Queen retained her own, but caused sev- eral back rooms to be prepared for her private use, as a relief from the inconvenient splendor of the PRIVATE APARTMENTS AS A REFUGE 67 state apartments, too large and lofty for comfort. These reserved rooms, which are still shown, look on a dark and dreary inner court ; certainly, in modern times few private gentlewomen would be satisfied with such a retreat. But they were more homelike and seemed more her own property than the royal abode devoted to the queens of France, where she was subjected to aU the inconveniences attending a too exalted position. Marie-Antoinette had these inner rooms comfortably furnished in white silk brocaded with colored flowers. Here she placed her harp, her embroidery frame, her harpsichord, and her work-table; and here she received her favorite courtiers. The mornings, however, were spent in the Queen's official bedchamber, and devoted to aU the obligations of etiquette. The King rose early, and at the appointed hour the lady of the bedchamber in waiting watched his departure, to bolt the door after his exit till the time came to awaken the Queen. In the bedchamber the door may still be seen leading to a dark passage, lighted by lamps night and day, through which the King could go privately to his own apartments. The Queen was usually awakened at eight o'clock; the lady in waiting then presented to her a book containing patterns of all her dresses, with a small portion of the trimmings annexed, and a pincushion, from which the Queen took pins to mark the dresses chosen for the day — the full court dress, worn at the daily mass, always attended in ceremony ; the after- 68 THE STOKY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE noon deshabille for lier private apartments; and the evening dress. The Queen had twelve of each kind for each season, summer and winter; those of muslin and lawn, afterward adopted, did not figure in the official list. What had been worn on the previous day was gathered up in sUk wrappers and taken to the wardrobe department, from which all that the Queen had chosen for the day was brought in the same fashion, with the linen required, called the pret (literally, "in readiness"). An extra provision of linen, called en cas, was also brought separately, "in case" the Queen should wish for a change dur- ing the day. The term en cas was also given to a basket of refreshments brought every evening, "in case" nourishment should be required during the night. This basket contained a bowl of broth, a cold roast chicken, etc., with bottles of wine, orgeat, and lemonade. The clothes which had been removed to the wardrobe department were laid on long tables, where they were pulled out, carefully wiped, and folded before being put away in the large wardrobes. When these important matters had been settled the Queen rose and proceeded to perform her toilet ; on bath days, which occurred several times a week, the bath was usually wheeled into the room, with all that was required, and followed by two bathing- women who attended the Queen. She wore a flannel bathing-gown, and usually breakfasted in the bath, the tray being placed on the cover. When she did not bathe she either breakfasted in bed or even HER DAILY LIFE 69 standing after she had risen. She usually took coffee, and sometimes chocolate, with a particular kind of roU to which she had been accustomed in Vienna. Marie-Antoinette seemed to care for no particular food except her morning coffee and her favorite rolls. When the Queen had taken her bath she was wrapped in a white silk mantle over a long night-dress, and returned to her bed, which had been previously warmed ; then, taking her tapestry work, she received what was called les petites entrees, or the officials who had the privilege of being admitted at that time, such as her physicians and those attached to the King's person, her reader (the Abbe de Ver- mond), her private secretary, some of the King's attendants, etc. Often ten or twelve courtiers were together in the room during these morning inter- views. At noon occurred the official toilet, when the dress- ing-table was drawn into the middle of the room and the princesses with other privileged ladies were ad- mitted.^ The lady of the highest rank present had the right of dressing the Queen. The story is well known of her being obliged to stand shivering with cold in scanty raiment on a winter morning while her most necessary clothing was handed with due ceremonial from one princess to another as they came in succession, each one being of higher rank than her predecessor ! When dressed and seated at her dressing-table, 1 This was called lea grandes entries. 70 THE STOET OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE while the last touches "were given to her toilet, the gentlemen were admitted; and at the beginning of every month the money of her privy purse was placed on her dressing-table in gold pieces deposited in a white kid bag embroidered with gold. The Queen said a few gracious words to the courtiers whom she wished to honor; but soon the hour of the King's mass summoned her, and stepping into the center of the room, the suite took their places around her as in state she crossed the adjoining "Salon de la Paix" and the long " Galerie des GHaees," where she met the King leaving his apart- ments with the same ceremony. In those days, when monarchs had not learned to live in perpetual dread of assassination, any well-dressed people were ad- mitted into the palace, and could stand in the "G-a- lerie des Glaces" while the royal family passed through on their way to the chapel where mass in music was sung every day. The Queen on these occasions looked, according to the mythological language of the time, "like a goddess among her nymphs," as with the peculiar grace which marked her every motion she glided through the long gal- lery, an ideal of royal beauty, as all her contempo- raries have borne witness. The little school-girl who four years before had appeared as a mere child in the court ceremonies had now grown into a majestic and beautiful woman, above the ordinary height of her French ladies, and magnificently proportioned. Her features had not the classic perfection which THE BEAUTY AND GEACE OF THE QUEEN 71 afterward characterized the beauty of the Empress Eugenie: the face was too narrow for regularity; the nose, although slender and delicately formed, was too marked and too aquiline; the Austrian pouting under- lip was too developed. But these slight defects were forgotten in the brilliancy of her whole appearance : her exquisite complexion, which was disfigured rather than heightened by the circular patch of rouge which etiquette prescribed as an indispensable part of the court dress; her golden hair, of a soft, pale shade, which could be discerned through the powder so ui^iversally worn at that time; her bright and gra- cious smile, which lighted up the dignified face, so queenlike in its sweetness. The lines of her grace- ful neck as it rose from her shoulders, the turn of her head, her whole attitude — aU were indescribably royal and peculiar to herself; no other French queen is quoted as possessing the same characteristics to the same degree, and no other woman could captivate attention in the presence of Marie- Antoinette. But alas for the King! What a disappointment when his subjects saw for the first time a sovereign of absolutely plebeian aspect, with the rough hands of a mechanic, a shambling gait, disordered hair, which no hairdresser could manage to keep in pre- sentable condition, a loud, coarse laugh, a harsh and unmusical voice ! No greater contrast could be im- agined than what was seen in the husband and wife. The King and Queen passed down the gallery between the rows of spectators, stopping here and 72 THE STOKY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE there to say a word to those known or presented to them, and then heard mass in the chapel. After mass they dined together; the Queen hated the public dinner, and insisted upon the latter ordeal being limited to Sundays, when' she only appeared at the dinner-table, and afterward dined quietly in her private apartments. The King ate voraciously on aU occasions; the Queen had a small appetite, and was utterly indifferent to her fare, generally taking only a small share of roast or boiled chicken, and plain biscuits for sweets. She drank only water, and that of Versailles being of bad quality, a supply was brought daily for her use from a spring at Ville d'Avray, which was reputed to be the best in the neighborhood. After dinner the Queen retired to her own apart- ments, where she took off her hoop and heavy court dress, which she exchanged for more convenient attire — Sundays excepted, for she then attended vespers in the afternoon with the same state as for the mass. On her return, she received the ladies presented on their marriage, who were required by etiquette to bend down so low in their obeisance as to kiss the edge of her dress; but this latter homage she always gracefully prevented by a motion of her fan. On other days, when she did not follow the King's hunt, which took place three times a week, she gener- ally remained in her private rooms, where she re- ceived a certain number of privileged friends, of •(/I > > n m y > > n •m ■O < •m po en > ETIQUETTE AND CUSTOMS 73 •whom her attendant ladies had a list. She played on the harp or the pianoforte ; sometimes the Abb6 de Vermond induced her to listen to what he called "reasonable reading," which she heartily disliked and usually rejected after her new dignity had given her increased authority to choose her employ- ments. She never reached real proficiency on any instrument, but played easily at sight, and liked to read music. Her favorite recreation, however, was chatting with her visitors, always on trifling sub- jects, in which mere gossip had a large share. Mercy and the Abb6 de Vermond both lament over the frivolity of her life, and the continual waste of time in which she indulged, but it was now useless to remonstrate. In the evening, after dressing for the occasion, came the court circle, the card-playing, which afterward assumed great importance, and the supper, where the Queen showed the same indiffer- ence as at dinner. She usually took broth, the wing of a chicken, and some trifling smaU cake. On the days when, after hunting, the King took supper at the lodge of Saint-Hubert, the Queen was present — an innovation suggested by Mercy. Pre- viously etiquette restricted the Queen and the prin- cesses from admitting men to their table; this had caused great mischief during the reign of Louis XV, by inducing considerable license which the presence of royal ladies restrained. The Queen found no enjoyment in the walks and drives which she could take in the park of Ver- 74 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE sailles, witli its terraces and parterres open to the burning sun, and its long, formal avenues, shady, but monotonous. The country outside was stiU less agreeable, for etiquette required that the royal car- riages should go at full gallop over paved roads, and necessarily in a cloud of dust. Marie-Antoi- nette longed for a smaU house of her own, where she could enjoy the liberty of a private individual in gardens of her own arrangement, and go about freely without the necessity of being followed wher- ever she went by two ladies in full court dress. In the outskirts of the park of Versailles was a small palace called " Trianon," built by Louis XTV for summer relaxation. Adjoining this was an un- pretending villa, which in modern days would be considered insufficient for the needs of a wealthy private gentleman, but which Louis XV had begun to build for the use of Madame de Pompadour, who died before it was completed. Finally, under the name of "Le Petit Trianon," it was finished for Madame du Barry. Here Louis XV held festivities and suppers, where, as Mercy would have said " the rules of propriety were not scrupulously observed." Even the servants were not admitted; a table al- ready prepared rose through an opening in the floor, the traces of which can stiU be seen. As may be supposed, "Le Petit Trianon" was not in good repute, and it is perhaps worthy of regi'et that Louis XVI should have given it as a toy to the Queen, enabling her thus to satisfy her wish for " a house of her own " TKIANON AND ITS IMPROVEMENTS 75 — the bad doings of Trianon seeming to cast their shadow over her by associating her name with scan- dalous remembrances. But this objection did not seem to strike any of those concerned, and Marie- Antoinette with great delight proceeded to prepare the " Petit Trianon" for her own use, and to lay out the gardens surrounding it according to her own fancy. The little paradise that she thus created has been carefully preserved to this day, and the memory of the unfortunate Queen seems inseparable from the place which she loved so much. Louis XV had left the finances of the state in a woeful condition, and the ministers urged the abso- lute necessity of strict economy, with reforms in the abuses of the court. But neither Louis XVI nor Marie- Antoinette had any idea of the value of money or of the meaning of the word " economy." They had never managed their own affairs nor been initiated in those of the state, of which Louis XVI had about as clear an idea as might be attributed to the sons of the Great Mogul. The households of the princes and princesses were absurdly numerous, and in every re- spect it was desirable that they should be reduced ; but any attempt at reform caused a general outcry and protestations from those concerned, which the good-natured and timorous King could not resist. He could not bear the thought that under his reign people should be less favored than under that of his grandfather, and be obliged to give up what they had hitherto enjoyed. 76 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE Marie- Antoinette began the improvements at Tri- anon as if she had the purse of a fairy-tale at her disposal. Although there was nothing particularly luxurious, yet everything was to be so completely al- tered that great expense was unavoidable. She wished for what was called an " English " garden, — in fact, an inclosed piece of landscape, — and the straight walks, the flat ground of the primitive gardens, must be en- tirely changed. An artificial lake was created, in which she was to have the enjoyment of fishing ; she had beautiful undulating lawns, rare shrubs and trees, a rivulet, an island, and rustic bridges leading to temples. The works of Florian and especially those of Rousseau had induced a sentimental passion for what was supposed to be country life — the sort of country life where lambs are as well washed as lap- dogs, and dairies have white marble tables and china bowls. Such was the dairy of Marie-Antoinette, which is still shown to visitors. Here she helped to churn butter and to make cheese; cows were milked in her presence, and she drank the new milk with delight. It is gravely stated by writers of the time that during the visit to Choisy after the death of the late King, the "sensibihty" of the good-natured but heavy Louis XVI had been "greatly moved" by seeing the Queen and princesses eating strawberries and cream under the green trees ! This instance of "sensibility" on the part of one whose obtuse nature had at least the merit of plain common-sense gives some idea of the sentimental nonsense which char- TRIANON AND ITS IMPROVEMENTS 77 acterized the period, and by which poor Marie- Antoi- nette was so much influenced. But to procure all these country pleasures satisfactorily, she must have a farm, to which she added a mill that worked in earnest; and the delight of seeing the wheel go round may be imagined. Then, to complete rustic delu- sions, she built a Swiss village, with the house of the lord of the manor, of the hailli, the cur6, etc., twelve in all. Some guide-books assert that these houses were inhabited by real peasantry whom the Queen established there, but this is absolutely con- tradicted by trustworthy writers ; with the exception of a gardener and a keeper, no one lived in these make-believe dwellings, which may still be seen near the lake of " Le Petit Trianon." There were also a grotto lined with green moss, flowers in profusion, and walks bordered by rose- trees. When the improvements were finished, which required several years, the whole was indeed a triumph of prettiness — a toy, but the most attractive that could be imagined There is still about it something delightfully old-fashioned and quaint, — a French version of Groldsmith's poem, — which seems to recall the perfume found in some old eighteenth-century cabinet known to our childhood. A weeping-wiUow by the lake was planted by Marie- Antoinette, whose memory haunts the place. Her last happy days were spent under the trees of Trianon, where at every turn the visitor almost ex- 78 THE STOKY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE pects to see the bright vision of a past which is there living stUl and apparently so real. The house finished for Madame du Barry has too much that bears the stamp of what would be gladly forgotten, although Marie- Antoinette tried to transform it. The balustrade of the staircase bears her initials, but the first rooms on entering the house are decorated too suggestively with quivers, roses, and significant mythological emblems. The apartments especially used by Marie- Antoinette are adorned with wreaths and bouquets of wild flowers carved on the panels, separated by a device of lilies (the royal flower) woven with laurel. The wood- work was originally painted a soft sea-green, the flowers white and gold, relieved by hangings of a deep crimson bordered with gold. A few articles of furniture belonging to the period, some with the combined initials of Louis and Marie- Antoinette, have been placed in the rooms, which the Queen seems to have just left. The bedchamber, which is small and unpretend- ing, has a bed * richly embroidered in colored silks, out of which the crown, worked on the counterpane, was taken during the Revolution, leaving the marks of the stitches. In the time of Marie-Antoinette the window-curtains and other hangings were ot muslin embroidered in colored silk. Such was the tiny palace of Trianon, which had 1 This bed was used by Marie-Antoinette, but not at Trianon, where the coveriet and curtains were of blue silk. THE QUEEN'S EXTRAVAGANT FASHIONS 79 no excess of luxury in itself, but which was the cause of great expense at a time when every one felt the necessity of reforms and economy. The sums actually spent on Trianon and its gardens were spread over several years, and their amount has been greatly exaggerated, but the effect pro- duced was unfavorable, and criticisms began to be murmured. Moreover, Marie-Antoinette, who had been "badly dressed" as Dauphine, was now de- termined to be well dressed as Queen, and to follow in this respect her own fancies. The Duchesse de Chartres had, unfortunately, introduced to her notice a celebrated milliner of the time, called Mile. Bertin. Hitherto queens of France had never been in direct communication with their tradespeople ; but Marie- Antoinette would allow no one to come between herself and Mile. Bertin, who became her favorite counselor as regards matters of dress and fashion. Of course the milliner took advantage of her posi- tion to favor her own private interests, with the consequence of leading the young Queen into ex- aggeration and extravagance in following what was called "la mode." Hours were spent in these im- portant discussions with Mile. Bertin, whom she freely admitted to her private apartments. The Empress, her mother, much displeased at aU she heard, vainly tried to remonstrate, saying that the public papers were full of particulars on the ex- travagant height of her head-dresses and the excess with which she followed exaggerated fashions. The 80 THE STORY OP MAKIE-ANTOINETTE young Queen carelessly answered that nothing of all this seemed extraordinary iti France ; that every one wore what her mother criticized, and was quite accustomed to such fashions. It was only too true, unfortunately, that her example was followed by the young women of the day, who were thus led into ex- cessive expenses, as her mother foresaw. The Queen was held responsible by public opinion, and incurred considerable blame in consequence. The tastes of the King were quite opposed to those of the Queen, although he was always indul- gent and kind in tolerating — nay, even encourag- ing — her fancies. His own were limited to what enabled him to expend his superabundant physical energy in violent exercise. He established a forge on the top floor of the palace, where he worked lust- ily with a locksmith,^ who taught him his trade, and treated him as roughly as he would have done in the case of an ordinary apprentice. "When suffi- ciently tired of this hard manual labor, he went out by a trap-door on the flat roof of the palace, where his delight was to walk about among the chimney- pots, and where he had established a telescope which enabled him to watch all that went on in the courtyards and avenues leading to his royal residence. When he met with masons or plasterers doing repairs he turned up his sleeves and worked heartily with them, to the great injury of his clothes 1 This man, named Gamain, afterward became a revolntiomst, and betrayed the King's conMence in the most unworthy manner. THE TEMPLE OF LOVE, VERSAILLES. THE DAIRY AND TOVv'ER OF MARLBOROUGH, VERSAILLES. TASTES OF THE KING 81 and hands, whose condition often irritated the re- fined, delicate Queen beyond control. When he re- turned to his private apartments he was not averse to quiet and serious occupation; he hked to read historical works, travels, everything relating to geography, and was fond of preparing maps. In one of the rooms belonging to his apartments a brass line, crossing the floor diagonally, represents the meridian of Paris, and was laid down under the direction of Louis XVI, and according to his calcula- tion. Two or three times a week he went hunting, a taste which in his case amounted to a passion, and was gratified by tearing over the country at reckless speed, without caring for danger. Sometimes he returned for the usual supper at Versailles; when the hunt was prolonged he went to Saint-Hubert, where the Queen often followed him. Being tired and hungry, he fully satisfied his hearty appetite, and then fen asleep in the carriage which took him back to his royal home. When he alighted on reaching the palace, being still half asleep, he staggered, and his attendants were obliged to assist him as he went up-stairs, with the result of causing rumors that he came back in a state of intoxication. This suppo- sition seems to have been wholly undeserved in his case, but the guards and servants who remembered the excesses of the late King were not unnaturally inclined to such suspicions. The King hated late hours and worldly dissi- pation, of which the Queen never seemed to have 82 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE enough. A continual whirl of amusements seemed necessary to prevent her from falling into melan- choly and depression. She had an aflEectionate heart, and had tried sincerely to love the King. But at this time she could not do so; his coarse, plebeian nature, now so completely revealed, filled her with repulsion. His tastes, so different from hers, estranged him from her ; they saw but little of each other, and he had never been demonstrative. She had nothing to fill her empty life, and her one aim seemed to be the banishment of aU. serious thought. Her sister-in-law, the Comtesse d'Artois, had hopes of maternity; she had not, and she had no interest capable of filling her heart or satisfying her mind. She vainly rushed from one amusement to another; notwithstanding the distance from Paris, and the severe winter weather, she continu- ally went there to the opera and to theaters, of course returning at late hours. She had balls at Ver- sailles, and especially favored those in which fancy dresses were introduced; preparing quadrilles in various costumes, with fancy dances, spending con- siderable time in superintending rehearsals, and set- tling aU matters belonging to these festivities. The King made no objection, and was always vriUing to allow her to do as she pleased, provided he were not required to participate in such amusements. In ac- cordance with this system, he made the fatal mistake of allowing her to attend the Op4ra masked baUs without a sufficient suite, and to go about far too DANGEROUS INFLUENCE OF THE COMTE D'AHTOIS 83 freely with, the Comte d'Artois, whose habits were not such as to induce any confidence in his tact and discretion. The Queen drove alone with him in new-fashioned light carriages, which were consid- ered of too masculine a stamp for court decorum, and which her easy thoughtlessness preferred to the ponderous vehicles hitherto used by royalty, with their necessary escort and attendants. The Op6ra balls were, however, certainly the most objection- able among the Queen's fancies; for although fre- quented by the nobility of the time, and of a better stamp than the modern saturnalia known imder that name, still, being public, the Queen was thrown into a medley crowd where she met people of the least respectable class, with whom she ought never to have been in contact. The Queen remained late, and the distance being considerable, she conse- quently did not reach Versailles till the early morn- ing hours, while her husband and natural protector had been comfortably in bed and asleep since eleven of the preceding night. All this was more than friv- olous, and should never have been permitted, as the Queen's reputation suffered in consequence. Not that she was ever led into any really wrong act, but she was nevertheless freely criticized as too light and inconsiderate for a queen of France. Not unnaturally, her aunts, the " Mesdames," were shocked, and Madame Adelaide spoke seriously to the King on the subject of the Queen's imprudent follies. For this she really could not be blamed; but 84 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE as the King silenced her, and no improvement took place, the "Mesdames" expressed their feelings freely in their circle, "which became a focus of opposition against the Queen, and of gossip which spread out- side the court with the exaggeration usual in such cases. CHAPTER V The King's coronation — A painful crown — A royal brother — Blunders of an archduke — An imprudent correspondence — The Queen's likes and dislikes — Intimacy with the Princesse de Lamballe — The King's sledges — Danger in diamond bracelets — Reprimands and prophecies of Maria Theresa — Marriage of Madame ClotUde — The Queen described by Horace Walpole — Intimacy with the Princesse de Gu^m4n4e. THE King's coronation, which took place at Rheims with all the medieval ceremonies, revived loyalty for a time; and the "sensibility" shown by the Queen, who was merely present without sharing the honors of the day, interested the spectators, and caused a revival of the enthusiasm shown in the first days of the new reign. When the "twelve peers" held the crown of Charlemagne above the head of the mon- arch, during a burst of appropriate music, till the archbishop who officiated took it and solemnly crowned him, the Queen was so completely overcome that she was obliged to leave her seat for a few min- utes till she was able to recover her self-possession. In those days of fine feelings carried even to affec- tation, this natural betrayal of real emotion could not but be welcome ; and when, after the ceremony, the King and Queen appeared together in public. 86 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE their reception by the people was as hearty as they could wish. The superstitious had, however, remarked that when the crown was secured on his head Louis XVI said : " It is painful to me." It was indeed destined to become a crown of thorns! But Marie- Antoinette had no sad forebodings, and the glorious ceremony of the coronation left her only feelings of joyful triumph. "What a day was that of the coronation!" she writes to her mother. "While I live I can never forget it." The visit of her brother the Archduke Maximilian soon followed to diversify the monotonous though incessant pleasures of her life. He was accompanied by one of her mother's most trusted friends and coun- selors, the Comte de Rosenberg. Marie-Antoinette, delighted to see an old friend and to revive the recol- lections of her childhood, was, as usual, incautious and far too confiding in her intercourse with Rosen- berg. On the other hand, she was anxious to receive her brother with due honor, and she could not but recognize how completely the young Prince made himself ridiculous in the sight of the Parisians, who are not indulgent in such cases. Among other in- stances of foolish speeches, it was related that when he visited the Jardin des Plantes, and Buffon pre- sented him with a copy of his great work, the Arch- duke refused it, saying graciously that he would "be sorry to deprive him of it." The Queen felt such blunders keenly, but was only the more determined to BLUNDERS OF AN ARCHDUKE 87 support her brother. The Archduke traveled incog. and consequently could not claim the honors due to his rank, yet he absolutely refused to visit the princes of the blood royal, and expected all deference from them, which they would not show unless the first act of courtesy came from the Austrian prince himself. The Queen took his part warmly, and spoke sharply to the French princes. " The King has treated the Archduke as a brother, and invited him to supper in his private apartments with the royal family — an honor to which I do not suppose that you would pretend. My brother wiU be sorry not to know the princes; but he is here for a short time, he has a great deal to see, and he must give up the prospect." The princes would not yield, and did not attend the festivities in honor of the Archduke, which cost large sums, — more than a hundred thousand francs, but re- port said six hundred thousand, — which were consid- ered to be wasted upon the Archduke, whom nobody liked. The princes of the blood were highly ap- proved by public opinion for their resistance to Austrian pretensions. The Due d'Orleans, the Prince . de Cond6, and the Prince de Conti, retired to their country houses, while their sons, more boldly, went about publicly in Paris by way of bravado during the festivities at Versailles, and were loudly cheered. All French sympathy was with the Bourbon princes against the sUly, haughty Austrian who was, unfor- tunately, the Queen's brother. 88 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE The Queen herself was proudly imprudent in the speeches which she carelessly uttered without realiz- ing the terrible importance of the impression pro- duced. On one occasion, when Madame de NoaiUes was wearying her with some minute questions of etiquette, bringing forward the example of the late Queen, Marie- Antoinette answered impatiently: " Settle aU that as you please, Madame ; you really cannot expect that a queen of France, born an arch- duchess of Austria, should attach the same impor- tance to minute details as a Polish princess who became a queen." Of course this imprudent speech was repeated, and the effect on the "Mesdames" of the carelessly contemptuous allusion to their mother may be imagined. Marie- Antoinette was also reported to have said that there was no "real nobility" in France, mean- ing that they were not exempt from the stain of mesalliance, which, according to German theories, is sufficient to destroy a whole pedigree. But the great families of Montmorency, Eohan, Noailles, Bauffre- mont, and others, were not inclined to accept such a sweeping assertion, and considered that they were inferior to no nobility in Europe, while they deeply resented the opinion expressed by the young Queen — the "Austrian," as she was already termed — with con- siderable bitterness. Marie- Antoinette was imfortunately both thought- less and inconsiderate, often speaking at random and giving her confidence too easily. When her AN mPRITDENT COEEESPONDBNCE 80 brother Maximilian had returned to Vienna, she wrote to the Comte de Eosenberg with a degree of freedom which greatly displeased the Empress, her mother, to whom Eosenberg gave the letters to read. In one she says: "You know Paris and Versailles; you have seen and judged. If I required an apolo- gist, I should trust to you for that. I would candidly acknowledge more than you say; for instance, my tastes are not the same as those of the King, who cares only for field sports and mechanics. You will acknowledge that I would have little grace near a forge ; I could not play the part of Vulcan, and that of Venus might displease him much more than my tastes, which he does not disapprove." The imprudent style of this letter requires no com- ment. But a second letter produced a still worse impression on the mind of her wise mother. The one idea of Marie- Antoinette, after the accession of her husband to the throne of France, had been the recall of Choiseul, to which the King would not con- sent. She, however, obtained leave for him to ap- pear at the court ; but he felt the insecurity of his position so completely that he had ordered post- horses to be in readiness to take him back to his country house of Chanteloup. The Queen received him most graciously, expressing her pleasure at his return, and her satisfaction at having contributed to it. The King only said roughly : " You have aged. Monsieur de Choiseul: you are stouter, and you have grown bald." In the circle of that evening the King 90 THE STOET OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE said significantly: "When people have pleasant country-liouses of their own, the best thing they can do is to remain there." Choiseul took the hint, and returned to Chanteloup. The Queen tried in vain to reinstate him in his position as minister. The King, who was in one of what the courtiers called "his butting moods," said harshly : " I will hear no more about that man." Baffled on this point, Marie- An- toinette carried out her will, however, in getting rid of d'Aiguillon, who was banished to his country-seat; and at the coronation, where Choiseul must needs come to pay homage, she managed to have an inter- view with him, which she thus relates to Eosenberg: " I am obliged to go back to the departure of Mon- sieur d'Aiguillon to give you a full account of my conduct. That departure was entirely my work. . , . I asked the King to send him away. True, I would not have a lettre de cachet; but he lost nothing by this, for instead of staying in Touraine, as he wished, he was requested to continue his journey as far as Aiguillon in Gascony. " You have perhaps heard of the audience I gave to the Due de Choiseul at Eheims. So much was said about it that I should not be surprised if old Maure- pas had feared to have to take his rest in his own home. You will easily believe that I did not see him ^ without speaking about it to the King, but you will not guess the adroitness that I used so as not to seem to ask leave. I told him that I wished to see 1 Choiseul. AN IMPEUDENT COBEESPONDENCE 91 Monsieur de Choiseul, and that I saw no difficulty except as to the choice of the day. I managed so well that the poor man^ himself settled the most con- venient time for me to see him. I think that I used sufficiently my rights as a wife on that occasion. " At last we have got rid of Monsieur de la Vril- lifere. ^ Although he is hard of hearing, he neverthe- less heard enough to understand that it was time to go, or the door would be shut in his face. Monsieur de Malesherbes will fill his place." Maria Theresa was shocked at this letter, saying to Mercy : " It has gone to my very heart. My anx- iety is fully justified. She is rushing to her ruin, and she may be considered as only too fortunate if, in her destruction, she preserves the virtues apper- taining to her rank." This judgment is characteristically severe. But when the fate of the unfortunate Marie- Antoinette is remembered, the prophecy becomes startUng. With so many amiable and lovable points in her character, an amount of levity which in private life would assume but small importance in the case, of one so young was sufficient in her high position to surround her with enemies whom she despised, — fondly imagining that an "archduchess of Austria" was so far above their malevolence that she was be- yond the reach of their intrigues, — and who yet suc- ceeded far beyond their anticipations, and probably their intentions, in throwing her over the precipice 1 The Eing. ^ One of the ministers. 92 THE STORY OP MABEE-ANTOINETTE toward wMch she blindly "rushed," as her mother said. In almost every letter the prudent Empress warns her against interfering to procure favors and official posts for her particular prot^g^s. But Marie- Antoinette would not be schooled. She was good-natured and warm-hearted ; she wished to please those whom she liked; and she did not realize that in favoring some she might be unjust to others. , The Duo de Fitz-James was the father of the Prin- cesse de Chimay, one of her ladies-in-waiting; and for this sole reason, without any particular merit of his own, she entreated the King to raise him to the supreme dignity of marshal of France. The King consented, but met with considerable opposition from the Minister of "War, who objected strongly on the ground that several generals had higher claims. The King then withdrew his proposal ; but he had given a promise to the Queen, and a great outcry was raised around her to oblige him to keep his word, the Due de Fitz-James having fully expected his appoint- ment. The King tried to satisfy all parties by naming six marshals besides the Due de Fitz-James ; but this lavishing of honors which ought to be bestowed sparingly made fresh mischief by casting ridicule on the whole. The seven marshals were called the " Seven Deadly Sins," whUe satirical verses and songs were handed about, in which the Queen was not spared. Marie-Antoinette was equally vehement in her THE QUEEN'S LIKES AND DISLIKES 93 likes and dislikes. One of lier familiar courtiers, tlie Comte de Guines, who had been appointed am- bassador to England, was accused of serious mis- demeanor in having favored smuggling under cover of the embassy, and having speculated in the funds through abuse of state secrets. The facts were proved, and Monsieur de Guines, who tried to throw the blame on his secretary, was prosecuted and called to trial before the Parliament. The Queen took his part with great warmth, so that she looked upon his adversaries as if they were her own, and was supposed to have greatly influenced the verdict of acquittal which he finally obtained after legal dis- cussions that were prolonged during several years. This again was much blamed in the general world, where the conclusion was drawn that the Queen's pleasure could influence the judges to the degree of injuring public justice. Marie-Antoinette had become intimate with the Princesse de LambaUe, of the royal house of Savoy, who had been most unhappily married to the prof- ligate son of the Due de Penthi^vre, father also of the Duchesse de Chartres, afterward Duchesse d'Or- 16ans. The young Princesse de LambaUe soon lost her husband, which event no one could consider as a calamity, and remained a young widow in the house of her father-in-law, toward whom she played the part of a devoted daughter. The Princesse de LambaUe was extremely pretty; she had what is caUed a "sweet" face, without much inteUect, but 94 THE STORY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE gentle and interesting. Her sacrificed life and her painful position aroused all the Queen's sympathy, and for some time the Princesse held the position of favorite friend, being seen with the Queen wherever she went. The winter was severe, with abundant snow. Marie- Antoinette, delighted to recall the pas- times of her childish days at Vienna, had sledges prepared, in which she flew over the frosted ground with the Princesse, who, fair and fresh as a rose un- der her rich furs, looked like spring itself in mid- winter. Of course every one tried to imitate the Queen, and the great ladies vied with each other in the painting and gilding with which the sledges were adorned. Louis XVI would not indulge in this new fancy ; but, understanding the sufferings of the poor in such severe weather, he ordered carts of fuel to be distributed to those in need. " Gentlemen, here are my sledges," he said gravely, addressing the courtiers, as he watched the line of carts passing before the palace. Marie-Antoinette was equally kind-hearted and charitable, but less thoughtful when necessities were not brought in a direct manner to her notice. She was carried away by a whirl of incessant amusement, for which it must unhappily be acknowledged that she lavished money in such a manner that she had none left for the claims of charity. Shortly after her accession to the throne a jeweler named Boehmer, who afterward played an impor- tant part in the lamentable intrigue known as that of DANGER IN DIAMOND BRACELETS 05 the " Queen's necklace," had brought to Marie- An- toinette a pair of diamond earrings of gi-eat splendor, for which he asked 600,000 francs. The Queen pos- sessed a large quantity of diamonds ; for, besides what she had already, the King had presented to her on different occasions various jewels which amounted in value to 300,000 francs. There had been riots on account of the price of bread, and distress was prev- alent among the lower classes. Mercy, who considered the fresh purchase of diamonds for such a large sum both unnecessary and ill-timed, tried to dissuade the young Queen. But she could not resist the tempta- tion, and finally agreed with the jeweler that the top diamonds of the earrings should be replaced by her own, and that the sum, thus reduced to 460,000 francs, was to be paid by instalments in four years. But while stiU. owing 300,000 francs she was tempted by a pair of diamond bracelets, for which she partly paid by giving some of her own diamonds at a price below their value, but with the obligation of paying the remainder of the debt in money. When her funds were examined she had nothing left, and she was forced to ask the King for 2000 louis.^ Always kind and indulgent to his wife, he did not utter a word of reproach, and gave her the sum for which she asked, merely remarking very gently that he was not surprised that she had no money, being so fond of diamonds. 1 The louis d'or was then worth twenty-four francs. The present twenty- frano piece was introduced by Napoleon, and formerly bore his name. 96 THE STOET OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE Mercy related this story to Maria Theresa, who was much distressed. She writes to Mercy : " Although my daughter was so young when she went away from here, I saw in her character a great deal of thoughtlessness, deficiency of application, and obstinacy as regards carrying out her own will, with plenty of adroitness in avoiding the remon- strances which one would wish to address to her. It is now evident that I was not mistaken in my judg- ment, and time only will show whether riper years and more maturity of judgment wiU correct these defects," To Marie- Antoinette she writes : "All the newspapers coming from Paris make it known that you have bought bracelets worth 250,000 livres; that you have consequently disturbed your finances and incurred debts ; and that, to mend mat- ters, you have sold your own diamonds at a very low price. It is also said that you lead the King into the excessive and needless expense which has increased to such a degree lately, and which adds so much to the present distress of the state. I beheve aU this to be exaggerated, but I think it is necessary that you should know the reports that are prevalent — loving you so tenderly as I do. These stories go to my very heart, especially when I think of the futm-e." To this reprimand Marie-Antoinette answers care- lessly : " I have nothing to say about the bracelets. I should not have supposed that any one could trouble the kindness of my dear mama with such trifles." EEPEIMANDS OP MAEIA THEEESA 97 Maria Theresa retorts : " You are young, in a new country, and with natural gifts whidi are sufficient for you to become perfectly all that you should be ; it is only frivolity that I fear, — and I cannot conceal my fears from you. You pass over the matter of the bracelets very lightly ; but all this is not as you would wish it to be. A sovereign lady lowers her- self by too much adornment of her person; still more if she goes so far as to spend large sums for the purpose ; — and at what a time ! I see only too much your love of dissipation; I cannot be silent, loving you as I do, for your good, and not to flatter you. Do not lose, through frivolous trifles, the good opinion that you won at first. The King is known to be very moderate, so the blame would fall on you alone. I do not wish to outlive such a change." But Marie- Antoinette was accustomed to being scolded by her mother, and had ceased to pay much attention to her reprimands, save when Mercy or the Abb6 de Vermond appealed to her heart and her filial devotion. She then took fresh resolutions, and promised reform, but soon resumed her former errors. Her present engrossing wish was to ap- point the Princesse de Lamballe to the post of Surintendante, or Mistress of the Household. The high salary and supreme authority belonging to this post had caused it to be suppressed by the late Queen, on account of the incessant difficulties which it occasioned in the daily intercourse with the other 98 THE STOBY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE ladies. It was objected also that the Princesse de Lamballe was far too young for such a position. Madame de Noailles, now Mar^chale de Mouchy, declared that having always held the highest rank in^ the Queen's household, she would not submit to having even a princess of the blood placed above her and invested with any portion of her preroga- tives. The ministers offered as objections the in- crease of expense and the absolute inutility of the appointment. But the young Queen was determined to carry her point, as she said, " to make my friend happy, and myself too at the same time." At last Madame de NoaiUes (de Mouchy) sent in her resignation, and the Queen had no rest till Ma- dame de Lamballe was appointed Surintenjdante, with handsome apartments in the palace and a salary of 150,000 livres. Marie- Antoinette had achieved her aim, and had besides proved her influence over the King ; but his weakness was stiU further made evident with regard to the Comte de Guines. Although the judgment had been in the latter's favor, public opinion was so manifestly against him that the ministers insisted upon his recall from his post of ambassador in Lon- don. The Queen, who had warmly taken up his de- fense from the beginning of the proceedings, and who was piqued by his friends to show her influence, was extremely angry at the apparent slight thrown upon Gruines, and insisted upon his receiving the title of duke as a compensation for the loss of the embassy. MARRIAGE OF MADAME CLOTILDE 99 She attacked the King so resolutely and vehemently that the "poor man" (as we have seen that she called him) gave way once more, and wrote to Guines announcing that he would receive the title of duke. Not only did Marie- Antoinette force the King to write himself, but she tore up the letter three times, and made him write it again, because she did not consider the terms he used sufficiently gracious and flattering. Upon this, two of the min- isters, Turgot and Malesherbes, sent in their resigna- tions. Thus the thoughtless young Queen incurred the responsibility of depriving the country of the services of two men, equally honest and estimable, whose wise measures might have succeeded in re- moving, or at least palliating, the terrible financial difficulties against which the country was struggling. The marriage of thiB King's young sister, Madame ClotUde, with the Prince of Piedmont, afterward King of Sardinia, was the occasion of great rejoic- ings and of a splendid ball at Versailles, of which Horace Walpole gives an account in his letters. He writes with great enthusiasm of the Queen, say- ing that it was impossible to look at any other wo- man in her presence. " When seated, she seems the statue of Beauty; when she moves, she is grace itseH." She wore a dress of silver tissue trimmed with pink blossoms of oleander, and danced the first minuet, in which etiquette required that she should never turn her back to the King, " which she per- formed divinely." 100 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE The ■wonderful charm which characterized Marie- Antoinette is dwelt upon by all contemporary- writers. Every one seems to have felt its influence ; those who were most prejudiced against her by popular gossip and satire were won over by a word or a smile even in her worst days of adversity. Unhappily, although always gracious and fascinat- ing to those who came near her, she was yet so taken up by her intimate friends that few had an opportunity of doing so. She did not like old people, which, though extremely natural, was equally im- politic, for they were often the most influential, and she thus created enmities which became hotbeds of scandal. After the marriage of Madame Clotilde (whom Horace Walpole describes as being "exactly of the size of the late Lord HoUand," and who was called by the populace "the fat Madame"), the State Gover- ness, the Comtesse de Marsan, resigned. She was re- placed by her niece, the Princesse de Gu4m6n6e, as "Groverness to the Children of France," of whom there was now only one, the little sister of Madame Clotilde, who was afterward known as the admira- ble " Madame Elisabeth," and whose intense grief at the separation awoke general interest and warm sym- pathy from Marie-Antoinette especially. Madame Clotilde was also extremely amiable, and became revered as a saint in Piedmont; but Marie- An- toinette was repelled by her appearance, and always showed a marked preference for the little Madame THE PEINCES8E DE GUfiMfiNfiE 101 Elisabeth. The Comtesse de Marsan had resented the indifEerence shown to her elder pupil, and still more the criticisms uttered by the Queen on the edu- cation she had given her, so that Madame de Marsan, who belonged to the illustrious house of Rohan and had in consequence wide-spread influence, became the Queen's bitter and mischievous enemy. The Princesse de Gu6m6nee, niece to Madame de Marsan, now filled her place to the great satisfaction of Marie- Antoinette. And yet the Princesse de Gl-u6- men6e was separated from her husband and had a bad reputation ! CHAPTEE VI Rivalries and court jealousies — Evenings in the apartments of the Piincesse de Gu6m6n6e — A chilling visitor — Noisy, undigni- fied society — Privileges of the milliner Mile. Bertin — The Queen's extravagance — Her frivolity — An adoption — Jour- ney to France of Joseph II — The Queen's simplicity and in- genuousness — Impressions made by Joseph II on the King and Queen — A head-dress " too fragile to support a crown" — Impressions made on Joseph II 'by his visit — Eetum of her "evil genius" — Eeports in the English newspapers — The Queen and Hume's "History of England." ANOTHER fancy which had more serious conse- Xa. quences soon engrossed the Queen's attention. A young married lady of provincial nobility and straitened fortune, named the Comtesse de Polignac, was presented to the Queen during an accidental visit to a relative living at Versailles. Marie- Antoi- nette felt a strong attraction toward the very pretty and interesting Madame de Polignac. It was the age of excessive friendships ; every one must have a bosom friend, another self, for whom everything must be sacrificed in the most romantic and unlimited fash- ion. So Madame de PoHgnac became the Queen's bosom friend, loved with all-absorbing affection. Poor Madame de LambaUe was neglected, and showed jealousy, without any result beyond scenes and quar- rels with Madame de Polignac, which only irritated RIVALRIES AND COURT JEALOUSIES 103 Marie-Antoinette, who, as Mercy had prophesied, was getting tired of Madame de Lamballe's sleepy, rather silly sweetness. Both ladies, however, showed only too much their pretensions that the sacrifices which they claimed in the name of the sacred rights of friendship should all come from the Queen, and they vied with each other in their perpetual demands for favors of all kinds attended with pecuniary advantages for their families and their friends. The Queen, to pacify the one and to satisfy the other of her insatiable favorites, granted all that they asked, thus most abusively pressing on the deficient funds of the state. Madame de NoaiUes's departure had removed the sole restraint on the Queen's fancies, and she now abolished the etiquette of the court as far as she could. She often suppressed the evening court circle, and went instead to the Princess de Guemen6e, where she met undesirable society with still more undesir- able familiarity, returning at a late hour, with no other escort than the Comtesse de Polignac and a footman, to go through the guard-rooms full of sol- diers ! " There was no harm." Certainly not ; but a good deal might be supposed. The Princesses de Lamballe and de Gu6m6n4e held rival " salons " ; in the first was the whole set of the Palais Eoyal, with the Due de Chartres ^ and his friends ; the other rep- resented all the Polignac coterie, with their ambitious views and intrigues, supported by the party of the 1 Afterward Due d'Orl^ans : known for his revolutionary principles. 104= THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINBTTB minister Maurepas. The poor Queen was the tool of both. Ingenuous and full of confidence in the affec- tion of those who professed to be her friends, she was far too communicative in her conversation, even in her letters; and of this over-frankness a treacher- ous use was made, especially by the Polignac party. Marie- Antoinette, in her sentimental affection, con- sidered that it was her duty to conceal nothing from her " friend " ; and thus her most private domestic concerns, with those of the King, were freely talked of to Madame de Polignac, through whom a great deal of private gossip oozed out to the public. The King rather liked Madame de Polignac, and was per- suaded sometimes to accompany the Queen in her evening visits to Madame de Gruem4n6e, where all the Polignac party assembled. But his presence chilled the exuberance of those present, who, knowing his methodical habits, anxiously awaited the hour of eleven, when the King punctually went off to bed. It is even stated that there were instances when the hand of the clock was slyly put forward to accelerate his departure ! The Queen remained tiU a late hour, en- joying noisy merriment which was equally unsuited to her youth and to her illustrious rank. The same undignified style of intercourse followed her to the horse-races introduced by the Comte d'Artois, and which she greatly enjoyed and patronized. The Queen's "stand" had not the decorum of modern days. The Comte d'Artois set the example of free- dom as yet unknown in com-t society, and the NOISY, UNDIGNIFIED SOCIETy 105 Queen was siirrounded by riotous young men who laughed uproariously and quarreled alternately in her presence, wearing their riding-coats and -boots instead of what had always been the indispensable court attire, and unceremoniously pillaging the re- freshments prepared. The Comte d'Artois betted, lost, and flew into a fury without restraint in the presence of the young Queen, whose too indulgent levity was severely criticized by those who witnessed these scenes and "new manners." The Comte de Provence and his wife ("Monsieur" and "Madame") looked grave and dignified in silent protestation, which every one approved. " Monsieur " would not allow " Madame " to follow the Queen alone in her pleasure excursions and freaks ; the Princess always apologized and kept aloof on the plea of her health, which caused unfavorable comparisons to fall on the Queen. The passion of the latter for pleasure was carried so far that she was known to return at six in the morning from the Opera ball, and to go off again to the races at ten o'clock ! One of the court balls which began at eleven in the evening went on till eleven the next morning ! The Queen no longer allowed her ladies to dress her according to former etiquette; she retired into her private dressing-room, where MUe. Bertin, the milliner, performed the ofl&ce of dresser; and the Queen returned only for the official toUet, when the whole court was admitted, before going to mass. 106 THE STOEY OP MABIE-ANTOINETTB The dislike of poor Marie- Antoinette for the mani- fold ceremonies which etiquette prescribed is easy to understand; but she might have dressed privately with her own women, for the admission into the Queen's most intimate privacy of a milliner living in constant intercourse with the fashionable world was certainly objectionable for many reasons. Meanwhile the expenses of the young Queen went on increasing. The Comte d'Artois had introduced high play at the receptions of the Princesse de Gue- m6n6e. Marie- Antoinette, who at first did not care for cards, became interested and excited; finally, play became a passion, and she lost large sums which the King was often obhged to pay, her finances being in- sufficient, liberal as was her allowance. Her stables also assumed hitherto unknown proportions. The late Queen had a hundred and fifty horses ; Marie- Antoinette had three hundred, with a total increase of expenditure amounting to 200,000 livres a year.^ The sums lavished on Trianon also caused mur- murs ; the garden alone had cost 150,000 livres, and the Queen had recently built a theater near the small palace. She had as yet given only one fSte there, but it had been very costly, and the manner in which money had been squandered in the short space of two years (1774 to 1776) provoked general alarm. The Princesse de Lamballe filled a post which was 1 A totally useless appointment as equerry, with carriages, servants, and liveries provided by the King, was given to the husband of Madame de Polignac, for the sole reason that he was her husband I THE QUEEN'S EXTRAVAGANCE 107 considered not only utterly useless, but which was a source of constant difficulties and complications, with a salary of 150,000 livres. Besides aU this, a number of pensions had been granted to her friends and pro- teges, merely because she asked for these favors. But as time went on, the sums devoted to the Polignac family became outrageous, and caused uni- versal indignation, with those satirical songs and lampoons which in France so easily produce infinite mischief. The reputation of Madame de Polignac was by no means immaculate, and the free-thinking principles which she openly avowed in matters of religion and morality made her a most undesirable companion for a young queen of only twenty-one years of age. The Abb6 de Vermond tried to remonstrate seri- ously, and leaves us a characteristic account of his interview with Marie-Antoinette. The Queen was talking of a certain bishop who had been her con- fessor, saying : " He wanted to make me devout [de- vote, which implies exaggerated devotion] ! " "Up to that time," says the Abb6, "I had been merely a listener; but I then spoke : ' How would he have managed to make you devout ? I have never been able to make you reasonable!' The Queen smiled, and seemed to require me to prove my words. 'For instance, Madame,' I retorted, 'your society, your friends of both sexes ; you have become very indulgent as regards morality and reputation. I might prove that at your age such indidgence, espe- 108 THE STORY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE cially with, regard to women, produces a bad impres- sion ; but I will pass over the fact that you pay no attention either to the morals or the reputation of a woman, and that you make her your companion, your friend, only because you find her agreeable, although certainly these are not principles to be professed by a priest; but that misconduct of aU kinds, bad morals, a stained or lost reputation, be- come apparently a title for admission into your so- ciety — this is what causes you the greatest possible injury. For some time, latterly, you bave not even had the prudence to keep up an intimacy with, at least some women having the fame of " reasonable " and good conduct.' The Queen listened to my whole sermon with a smUe of acknowledgment and ap- proval. I spoke gently, but in a tone of sorrow and pity. The Queen took up only one of my assertions by quoting, as having a good reputation, Madame de LambaUe alone. I said that this reputation would not last, and that her silliness would and could only increase. Her Majesty agreed with me as to this re- mark, and quoted several instances. What is to be done or hoped after sucb avowals without any desire or intention of a change ? " ^ The amiable disposition of Marie-Antoinette is again brought to light in this letter from the Abb6 de Vermond; but reform was more and more im- probable. She smiled good-humoredly, heard pa- 1 Letter of the A\ib& de Vermond, in the state papers of Vienna ; no date, but supposed to have been -written in 1776. THE QUEEN'S FKIVOLITY 109 tiently all tlie disagreeable truths which, were laid before her, but her imprudent follies only increased. The Comtesse de la Marck, in her correspondence with Gustavus III of Sweden, thus describes Marie- Antoinette: "The Queen goes incessantly to the opera and to the play, gets into debt, interferes in law-trials, adorns herself with feathers and knots of ribbon, and laughs at everything ! " Alas, no woman was ever destined to shed more bitter tears ! But as yet she thought only of enjoying the passing hour. One of her familiar courtiers, the Baron de Besenval, Heutenant-colonel of the Swiss Gruards, says that if the conversation in the Queen's presence ever took a serious turn, weariness was immediately depicted on her countenance. She cared for nothing but the light, witty small talk which so particularly charac- terized the period, when conversation was an art — an art which made aU social intercourse delightful. Talleyrand says in his memoirs that only those who knew the " salons " of the time immediately preced- ing the Eevolution could have any idea of the charm of society. Conversation was not, however, whoUy frivolous except at the court in the presence of the young Queen, who could not bear anything " serious." Elsewhere the grave political problems of the day were discussed, with new liberal theories, the "phi- losophy" of the period, taken from the writings of the time, — Rousseau and his disciples, with their Utopian visions of an earthly paradise of sentimen- tal felicity, where every one woidd be virtuous, bene- 110 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE ficent to others, and enthusiastically grateful for benefits received: the "Fudge" of the "Vicar of "Wakefield," but extremely attractive to the young and well-meaning, easily won over to delusions. Marie- Antoinette, who was young, kind-hearted, and imaginative, was considerably influenced by the sentimental principles of the time, and dreamed of the most generous philanthropy, while the empty cof- fers consequent upon her extravagant expenses and losses at cards prevented her from performing the ordinary charities appertaining to her exalted posi- tion. On one occasion, however, she found an oppor- tunity for romantic generosity, practised according to the theories of the time. She was driving in her carriage near Versailles, when a pretty child of four or five years, playing on the road, ran in front of the horses. They were immediately and successfully stopped, so that Marie- Antoinette, who was naturally much alarmed, had the satisfaction of seeing that he was not in the least hurt. With her usual kind-hearted impulsiveness, she stood up in her carriage and eagerly asked for his mother ; but an old woman who ran out of a cottage told the Queen that he was her grandchild, the son of her daughter, who had died, leaving five grandchildren to her care. Marie-Antoi- nette immediately declared that she would take this one, and that all the others should be cared for. The old woman through her thanks repeated that "Jacques was very naughty — would he stay with her ? " The Queen, however, took the child on her AN ADOPTION IH knee, and gave orders to drive on, but was soon ob- liged to return to the palace, for Jacques screamed lustily, kicking the Queen and her ladies with all his might, and resisting all attempts to comfort or pacify him. The decorum of the attendants was considerably disturbed when the Queen came into her apartments holding by the hand a little peasant boy who roared as loud as he could that he "wanted grandmother — brother Louis — sister Marianne ! " One of the ward- robe-women who was appointed to take care of the chUd, after fruitless attempts to manage him, snatched him up and carried him off, still kicking, struggling, and screaming, without seeming in the least to ap- preciate his good fortune in having thus opportunely found a fairy godmother. The other children were put to school, and a couple of days later Monsieur Jacques, having been tamed in some degree, was brought to the Queen, decked in white silk and lace, a pink scarf fringed with silver, and a hat and fea- thers. He looked very pretty, and the Queen was de- lighted. The name Jacques being too uni'omantic, she dubbed him "Armand," and directed that he should be brought to her every morning at nine. He breakfasted with her, and often dined also, even when the King was present. She called him "my child," and fondled him to her heart's content. This unnatural system was continued till she had chil- dren of her own. Such transplantations are seldom successful, and this one was no exception to the rule ; 112 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE for Jacques (Armand) turned out very badly, and became one of the most bloodthirsty among the revb- lutionists. He was killed at the battle of Jemmapes. Marie- Antoinette was at aU times exceedingly fond of ehUdren, and always showed the greatest kindness to her little nephew, son of the Comtesse d'Artois, although her own hopes and wishes seemed so far from being realized. But the insults of the populace, who pursued her with cries and reproaches for giving no heir to the crown, drove her almost to despair, and after the state baptism of the young Prince she rushed to her own private apartments, where she gave way to floods of tears. Then again, to silence her own sorrow, she had recourse to constant dissi- pation — balls, races, and, above all, the incessant ex- citement of habitual gambling, where she lost large sums and incurred considerable debts. The games of mere chance forbidden by police regulations in Paris were played now in the Queen's own apart- ments, with bankers from Paris who presided at the tables. With the strange freedom of admission which belonged to the customs of the period, persons who did not belong to the court could come to the tables, bet, and put money on the cards. There were scenes, quarrels, imputations of cheating, large sums lost and won. The King was displeased, but perpetually yielded to the wishes of the Queen and the Comte d'Artois, though saying plainly, with an attempt at a laugh : " Vous ne valez rien tons tant que vous Stes ! " (You are a good-for-nothing set, all of you !) LOUISE-MARIE DE FRANCE. AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT « CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY JEAN-MARC NATTIER. JOURNEY TO FRANCE OF JOSEPH U 113 Many of the nobility kept away from the court, fearing the losses consequent on such high play; the balls also became more and more deserted, be- cause the habit was lost of paying respect to the Queen at her circle of Versailles, from which she was too often absent. Balls are mentioned where only ten or twelve ladies danced, among them those who did not actually belong to the court ; and the Queen began to notice with uneasiness the increasing coldness of the aristocracy. Mercy, who saw mat- ters rapidly progressing from bad to worse, inces- santly lamented to Maria Theresa, giving minute details of the present state of affairs at the court. The Empress preached and remonstrated, but aU to no avail; and finally it was settled that a long-talked- of journey of Joseph II to France should take place, , that he might himself judge whether anything was to be done. Joseph II had frequently written in stringent terms to his sister, and on one occasion so harshly that Maria Theresa stopped his letter, fear- ing mischief. Marie- Antoinette, in fact, though al- ways submissive to her mother, not unnaturally resented the interference of her brother ; but it was hoped that family affection and cautiously reason- able language on the part of the Emperor Joseph might produce a lasting impression on the young Queen, so sad at heart in reality, and yet in ap- pearance so volatile and superficial. The Emperor Joseph II was only too much im- bued with the liberal and " philosophical " doctrines 114 THE STOBY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE prevalent at the time. He began by declaring be- forehand that he would not accept apartments at the palace of Versailles, wishing to play the part of a looker-on, with complete freedom, like any other casual traveler. In Paris, however, he consented to occupy rooms in the house of his own ambassador, Mercy, though strictly incog., under the name of the Count de Falkenstein ; but at Versailles Mercy was obliged to engage rooms for him in a private house near the palace, and to furnish them as plainly as possible. Joseph II, born in 1741, was thirty-six years of age at the time of his first visit to France, and conse- CLuently was fourteen years older than his sister Marie-Antoinette. The likeness, however, judging from the portraits kept at Versailles, was extremely remarkable. There is the same long, narrow, oval of the face, the same aquiline features, the same blue eyes and golden hair, the same Austrian lip. But the masculine version of the characteristics is far less attractive than what we see in the portraits of Marie- Antoinette. The Queen hardly knew whether to rejoice at her brother's arrival, as she feared reproofs, with the more reason that, finding her finances in much dis- order, she had appealed to Mercy for the winding up of her accounts. To her surprise and consternation, the total of her debts was found to amount to more than 487,000 livres. She saw the impossibility of paying such a sum herseK, and although she shrank JOURNEY TO FRANCE OP JOSEPH H 115 from the avowal to the King, she was obliged to have recourse to his assistance. With his usual kind- ness, he at once took the debt upon himself, without a word of blame addressed to her, only asking for time to pay by instalments out of his privy purse, without having recourse to the funds belonging to the state, which he would not use for such a pur- pose. The Queen could not but be moved by such proofs of the King's real affection for her, and ad- mitted, in conversing with Mercy, that she had not yet made a sufficient return. She seemed, as usual, impressed by Mercy's remonstrances, but she was afraid of those that she might receive from her brother the Emperor. He wrote, however, that he came not to examine nor to criticize, still less with the intention of taking her to task, but with the sole aim of seeing his royal sister, and that he wished for nothing that could disturb that satisfaction. The Emperor's journey was, however, delayed through different circumstances till the 18th of April, when he arrived in Paris at seven in the evening. Mercy was suffering from an indisposition which was sufficiently serious to oblige him to keep his bed, but the Emperor came to his bedside immediately, and spent part of the evening with him in earnest con- versation, during which Mercy carefully explained all that he was about to witness. The Emperor went to Versailles early the next morning, and reached the palace at half -past nine. According to his particular request, the Abb6 de 116 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTB Vermond came immediately to the carriage door, and led the Emperor, alone, by a back staircase into the Queen's private rooms, without being seen by any of the courtiers. The brother and sister embraced, and remained silent for a short space, as if overcome by their feelings. The Queen then led the Emperor into an inner room, and there they had the satisfaction of remaining alone together, and conversed freely for two hours, the Emperor speaking so affectionately to the Queen that with her characteristic ingenuousness she poured out to him aU of her private sorrows, and even her follies, her habits of dissipation, her taste for high play, her friends and favorites, but with a little more reticence as regards the latter. The Emperor, who had not intended to enter immediately upon such delicate subjects, answered cautiously and kindly, merely pointing out the great importance of such matters, adding that he would carefully think over all she had said. The Queen then took him to the King, who embraced him and tried to give him a cordial welcome, but with the awkwardness which was always the consequence of his constitutional shyness. The good-humored ease of manner shown by the Emperor soon modified this only too much ; for two days later the Emperor, hav- ing gone with the Queen to take supper in the apart- ments of "Madame" (Comtesse de Provence), the King and his brothers were so completely at their ease that they ran after each other and threw them- selves on sofas like romping school-boys, to the great IMPRESSIONS MADE BY JOSEPH II 117 mortification of the Queen and also of the Comtesse de Provence, who called impatiently to her husband, saying that she had never seen him behave so child- ishly. The Emperor took no notice, and continued to converse with the princesses without showing surprise. On the following day the Queen took him to Tria- non with only two ladies-in-waiting, and dined there ; but after dinner she walked on alone with the Empe- ror in the gardens, and there they had again a long and intimate conversation, Joseph II reverting to all the objectionable points of her habitual conduct, and speaking strongly but kindly of the errors which she had acknowledged to him. She agreed with his ex- postulations, acknowledged her own failures, contin- ued her confessions, but made no promises beyond the simple statement that " a time would come when she would follow such good advice." The Emperor did not like the Princesse de Lamballe ; the Queen admitted that she had been mistaken when she gave her the appointment of Surintendante. The Emperor went to the races, and was extremely displeased at the style prevalent there, of which he had been warned by Mercy, On the Sunday he spent the day at Versailles, to witness all the public functions of that day, of which he writes to his brother Leopold: "Yesterday I saw a Sunday celebrated at Ver- sailles in publico : the levee, the mass, the public dinner. I was in the crowd as a mere looker-on. 118 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE I must own that this was amusing, as I play my part on the stage so often, I enjoy an opportunity of seeing it played by others." * By the Queen's desire he accompanied her to an evening reception in the apartments of the Prin- cesse de Gruemenee, and was painfully impressed by what he saw there, telling the Queen plainly that it was " a regular gambling-house" ("un vrai tripot"). Without losing any opportunity of having long and exhaustive conversations with the King and Queen, the Emperor visited in Paris all the sights interest- ing to travelers, and among others the Jardin des Plantes, where Buffon was prevented by illness from doing the honors; but the Emperor kindly visited him in his apartments, and took an opportunity of saying with a smile: "I come to fetch the copy of your book that my brother left behind him." Many things surprised the Emperor disagreeably at Versailles which are also mentioned by Horace Walpole: the dirt and neglect of the entrance of the palace, the strange freedom of access tolerated, and the sight of booths like a fair in the vestibule, and even on the landings of the staircases, where various articles were freely bought and sold. The Queen was sometimes annoyed by the plain-spoken criticisms of her brother, who did not always spare her personally, even in the presence of her ladies, which was naturally painful to her. On one occasion when she claimed his admiration 1 Letter of the 29th of April, 1777: state papers of Vienna. A "TOO-FRAGILE" HEAD-DEESS 119 for an elaborate head-dress with a quantity of feath- ers, Joseph II looked grave, and hesitated. " Why, do you not like it ? " said the Queen, with some disappointment. " Some people may think it pretty," replied the Emperor ; " but it is really too fragile to support a crown.^ The Queen felt the lesson conveyed, and was piqued. She wished the Emperor to return with her to the reception of Madame de Gruemenee, but he positively refused; and as she persisted in going, he spent the evening with Mesdames in the apart- ment of Madame Adelaide. The young Princess Elisabeth, who was just grow- ing out of childhood, pleased him so much that there were rumors of an intended marriage in the future, but this does not seem to have had any real foundation ; the Emperor had lost two consorts, and was unwilling to marry a third time. After many conversations with the King and Queen, the Emperor's advice to both, and the reasons that he laid before them, seemed to have produced the best impression, although Marie- Antoinette told her brother playfully that a longer visit would enable him to be more useful to her, but that they would often quarrel. To Mercy she said that she felt the truth of the Emperor's remarks to her, and that she would follow his advice, but after his departure, for she did not wish to seem to be led by him, which was very characteristic of the wUful, though amiable, 120 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE nature of tlie young Queen. Finally, in a last affec- tionate interview she begged the Emperor to leave her a summary of his advice in writing, which he agreed to do, after being privately warned by Mercy to abridge it as far as possible, or the Queen would never read it! The King, notwithstanding his natural reserve and shyness, was won over by his brother-in-law, to whom he spoke far more openly and confidentially than was usual with him. The advice, somewhat in the form of an examina- tion of conscience, was left by the Emperor in the Queen's hands; but when she read it, she said im- mediately as Mercy feared, that she would reply on all points, proving that her conduct had always been just and reasonable ! The parting was extremely affectionate. The Em- peror was much moved, and after his departure the Queen had an attack of hysterics, which, however, had no bad consequences. She spent the following day at Trianon, and would see no one but the Prin- cesse de Lamballe, the Comtesse de Polignac, and one lady-in-waiting. The impressions left on Joseph 11 by his visit to Versailles will not be read without interest. To the Empress, his mother, he writes: "I left Versailles with sorrow, being really attached to my sister. I found with her the sort of sweetness in life which I did not expect to enjoy again, but of which I find that I have not lost the taste. She is amiable and IMPEESSIONS MADE ON JOSEPH 11 121 diarming. I spent with, her hours and hours, with- out perceiving how they fled. She showed consider- able feeling when I left her, but she did not lose her self-command. I was obliged to gather up all my moral strength to be able to get away." To his brother Leopold the Emperor says: "I leave Paris without regret, although I was extremely well treated there. Versailles was a greater sacrifice, for I was really attached to my sister, and her sor- row at our separation increased my own. She is an amiable and virtuous woman, rather young, rather giddy, but with a foundation of virtue and rectitude which really deserves all respect ; with that, a quick- ness of intelligence and an accuracy of penetration which often surprised me. Her first impression is always the true one." Elsewhere he says: "Her virtue is immaculate, even austere, by nature rather than by reason." Al- luding to the King, he thus describes his charac- ter : " The man is weak, but he is no fool. He has principles; he has judgment: but both body and mind are in a state of torpor. Though capable of carrying on a sensible conversation, he has no desire, no curiosity, for knowledge. In short, the word. Let there be light ! has not yet been spoken ; matter is still in a chaotic state." Marie- Antoinette writes to her mother: "Ma- dame my very, dear mother, the separation from my brother has given me a most painful shock; I have suffered all that it is possible to bear, and my only 122 THE STOEY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE comfort is that he shared my sorrow. All the family here were much moved. "I should be very unjust if my grief, and the degree to which I miss him, left me only regret. Nothing can compensate for the happiness that I enjoyed and the proofs of affection which I received from him. I was sure that he only wished for my happiness, and this is proved by all his advice; I shall never forget it. The only thing that failed him was the necessary time to know more thoroughly the people with whom I must live." Mercy hopes for reform ; but he is soon obliged to admit that the Queen is returning to all her former errors, and that he fears greatly for the future, the improvement having been only temporary, and dur- ing an absence of her " evil genius," the Comte d'Ar- tois, whose persuasions on his return soon induced her to resume high play, dissipation, late hours, and questionable society. Soon the hot weather induced other amusements subject to great objections, but also suggested by the Comte d'Artois. The terrace of Versailles was open to the public ; at his instiga- tion military bands were established there in the evenings; while to enjoy the cool air, the royal family came upon the terrace and mixed freely with the crowd. The Queen and the princesses at first kept together, but gradually they separated, and often had only the arm of one lady-attendant as they walked about till a late hour. The Queen, with her usual absence of caution, became more and EEP0ET8 IN THE ENGLISH NEWSPAPERS 123 more imprudent, even to sitting down upon public benches, and allowing herself to be addressed by- strangers ! All kinds of reports became prevalent. The Eng- lish newspapers took up the matter with great exag- geration; soon the most unjust and most disgrace- ful accusations were directed against the Queen, and very generally believed. But Marie-Antoinette would not understand that such things, though harmless, must not be done. There was no harm. She delighted in walking about by moonlight in the cool of the night; she was amused by the mistaken belief that she was not rec- ognized, and she did not see why she was to be pre- vented from doing what was not wrong. It was only when too late that she perceived the infinite mischief caused by her levity. The Queen had made the sacrifice of reading Hume's " History of England " with the Abb6 de Vermond, and this she considered sufficiently vir- tuous to cover many sins ! Mercy, though giving her the credit of this great effort, writes in despair that he believes the Emperor's written advice to have been thrown into the fire ! CHAPTER VII Fontainebleau in 1777— The Queen's day at Fontainebleau — Constant association witli the Comtesse de Polignac — Ex- travagance of Comte d'Artois — Hopes of an heir to the crown — Political difficulties — Interference of Marie- Antoinette in favor of Austria — Pressing letters from Maria Theresa — The Queen is more than ever called "the Austrian" — Madame Ehsabeth's household — Household of the future heir — Birth of a daughter — Chimney-sweepers at the birth of a royal child — Witchcraft and a wedding-ring — Madame de Genlis. THE court went to Fontainebleau, and there the Queen showed Mercy her new private apartments, beautifully decorated and furnished with her usual carelessness as regards expense. The parquet floor- ing has still her initials in marquetry, "M. A." The espagnolette bolts of the large windows are said to have been the work of Louis XVI. These rooms were the favorite retreat of the Empress Eugenie at Fon- tainebleau. The day of Queen Marie-Antoinette during her visit there in 1777 is thus described by Mercy: "The Queen rose between ten and eleven. When- ever I came to the anteroom at that hour, her Majesty called me in, and condescended to converse with me, sometimes for a long time. The King came to see the Queen, but did not remain more than a THE QUEEN'S DAY AT FONTAINEBLEAU 125 quarter of an hour. Monsieur (Comte de Provence) and Monsieur le Comte d'Artois came in succession. The first did not remain long ; the visit of the second was more prolonged. The Queen then went out en deshabille, and often took her breakfast with Ma- dame de Polignac before going to visit either Ma- dame ^ or the Comtesse d'Artois or the Mesdames de France. The toilet followed ; then her Majesty went to mass; on returning from the chapel, she dined with the King, except on hunting-days. This meal lasted only about half an hour ; some prince or prin- cess of the royal family usually came in. After an- other half -hour of conversation the King retired to his own apartments, and the Queen remained alone ; then her Majesty went sometimes, though rarely, to the Princesse de LambaUe, but more often and almost habitually to the Comtesse de Polignac, whose apart- ments are very near those of the Queen. The inter- views with that Countess are very long, and end only at the time for going to the play or the card- table up to the hour of supper, which takes place in the apartments of Madame or the Comtesse d'Artois or in the private apartments, but never in the Queen's, except on Sundays, when there is the public dinner. After supper the Queen goes to the Princesse de G^u6men6e, and plays tiU a late hour — sometimes two o'clock in the morning. The days are varied only by hunting-parties or races or rides on horseback and drives ; but the great evil is that there 1 Comtesse de Provence. 126 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE is not a moment for serious occupation of any kind, or for private conversation with the King. And yet, notwithstanding this incessant dissipation, the Queen is not pleasantly amused, and she condes- cended to tell me as much." Mercy gives an appalling account of the expenses of the Comte d'Artois, besides his losses at cards, amounting often to three thousand louis at one sit- ting. The King had given him the use of the chS/- teau of St. Q-ermain,^ and he not only spent large sums in alterations and repairs, but he bought a neighbor- ing country-seat, called Maisons, which was utterly unnecessary, the total expense amounting to at least five millions of francs. He next took a fancy to re- build a small house which he had in the Bois de Boulogne, called Bagatelle;* and wishing to give a fSte there to the Queen by a fixed date, he employed nine hundred workmen night and day to get it built in six or seven weeks. As it was difficult to procure necessary materials in so short a time, the Comte d'Artois sent detachments of soldiers out on the high- roads to seize aU the carts they met laden with what was required. Everything was paid for on the spot ; still the arbitrary proceeding caused great murmurs of the public against the King, who tolerated such abuses, and the Queen, who was supposed to favor them. To Mercy's expostulations Marie-Antoinette 1 Known especially as the residence of James II of England during his exile. 2 Bagatelle still exists in the Bois de Boulogne, and was the property of Sir Bichard Wallace. HOPES OP AN HEIR TO THE CROWN 127 answered that she was very far from approving her brother-in-law's imprudent conduct, but that she had no power to stop it. The "Mesdames" were at Fontainebleau with the Queen, but lived very quietly, showing their disapprobation only by keep- ing away from the card-tables and the evening receptions. The Queen continued to act as before, and aU ex- postulation seemed useless. Mercy laments over the same errors: high play, debts paid with unlimited patience by the King, no money left for charities — and pubhc murmurs at the omission, incessant dissipa- tion, overweening affection and excessive confidence shown to Madame de Polignac, who persistently made use of her influence to obtain incessant favors and large grants of money for her own family and friends. In vain Maria Theresa wrote to her daughter: "Your future makes me tremble ! " Marie- Antoinette was blind. In vain also the Emperor wrote to his sister in the harsh tones provoked by impatience: the Queen was irritated, yet made no change. But could even the previsions of either Maria Theresa or Joseph approach the reality of what that dreaded future was to be ? At length the official announcement of the hopes of an heir to the crown produced a favorable reac- tion not only on the part of the nation, but also as regards the Queen herseK, who, feeling the responsi- bility of a position so long desired, and which was now a source of so much happiness to her, proved 128 THE 8T0EY OF MAEIE-ANTODJETTB docile to all tliat was advised by matrons, physicians, and the friendly ambassador Mercy. But soon a political question troubled what at first was such pure joy — the complications induced by the rival pretensions of Prussia and Austria with regard to the Bavarian possessions. After the death of the Elector, Maria Theresa had much wished to act diplomatically, without any immediate aggression; but her fiery son Joseph was aU for what he called energetic measures, and had already entered Bavaria. Upon this Frederick II responded by the invasion of Bohemia. The French nation remained indiffer- ent, public interest being so engrossed by the war for independence in America and the embassy of Frank- lin, who had roused French enthusiasm to its highest pitch, that the nation cared little for Austria. The hope of Maria Theresa and her son lay in the influence of Marie-Antoinette over Louis XVI to consolidate the French alliance. The Empress cer- tainly felt the danger of too direct interference; she said that the Queen must not " make herself impor- tunate to the King and odious to the nation"; yet, pressed by necessity and the claims of Austrian in- terests, she wrote again and again urging her daugh- ter to use her influence over the King. Mercy talked, argued, and persuaded; finally, Marie- Antoinette spoke earnestly to Louis XVI on the manceuvers of Frederick 11 and the danger of a coolness as regarded the alliance; but Louis XVE answered with char- acteristic roughness : " It is the ambition of your DUCHESSE DE POLIGNAC. TROM A PHOTOORAPH BV BRAUN, CLEMENT t CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTINQ BY MME. VIQEE LEBRUN, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. PRESSING LETTERS FROM MARIA THERESA 129 family that ■will overturn everything; they began with Poland, and now Bavaria becomes the second volume; I am sorry for yom- sake." "But," replied the Queen, " you cannot deny, Mon- sieur, that you were informed of this Bavarian mat- ter, and that you agreed to it." "So little agreed," exclaimed the King, "that orders have been given to our French envoys to make known in the courts where they represent us that this invasion of Bavaria has been done against our will, and that we disapprove it." Personally, Maria Theresa had been opposed to the aggression in Bavaria, which she calls a " firebrand thrown in Europe " ; but now that it could no longer be prevented, she was passionately eager for the sup- port of France as her best hope in the difficulties and reverses which she foresaw for Austria. In a letter to Marie- Antoinette she writes: "A change in our alliance would be my deathP Mercy, who was present when the Queen read this, saw her turn pale, and said what he could to deepen the im- pression produced. Yet how difl&cult and dangerous was the position of Marie- Antoinette, placed as she was in the midst of such adverse circumstances ! The Emperor Joseph also wrote to the Queen, winding up his letter with these words, which made her miserable : " Since you will not prevent the war, we will fight like brave fellows ; and in any case, my dear sister, you will not have to blush for a brother who will ever deserve your esteem." Poor Marie- 130 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE Antoinette wept on reading this, and repeated, " How troubled I am concerning my mother!" — knowing how anxious and unhappy the war, and the part that her sons must play in it, made the Empress. 'She poor Queen tried to advance the Austrian in- terests, and made Mercy write down what she was to say to the ministers, which she copied, burning the original notes in Mercy's handwriting as a mea- sure of prudence. But she writes despairingly to her mother : " I am grieved at my inability to reach the minds of all these ministers So as to bring them to understand how just and reasonable is all that is done and demanded at Vienna ; but, unfortunately, there are none so deaf as those who will not hear, and besides, they have such a quantity of words and speeches that mean nothing, that they are bewildered before they can say anything reasonable. I wUl try speaking to both in the King's presence, to obtain that they shoiild, at least, hold proper language to the King of Prussia. ... I should be miserable if my dear mama could suspect him ^ on account of all that is going on. No ; it is the wretched weakness of his ministers, and his own difiB.dence as regards himself, which do all the mischief ; and I am sure if ever he takes counsel from his own feelings, every one will see his honesty, his just views, and a degree of tact which is far from being fairly judged at present." Maria Theresa continues, however, to press her daughter earnestly, while Mercy is prodigal of ex- 1 LouiB XVI. "THE AUSTRIAN" 131 planations and advice. The letters of the mother and daughter express more and more of anxiety and affliction. The Queen waited with intense suspense for the news from Bohemia, and the King found her in tears. Poor Louis, alarmed at her distress, told her that he could not bear to see her so anxious; that he wished to do anything in the world that could comfort her; that he was always inclined to do so, but that his ministers had stopped him, the interest of his people not allowing him to do more than he had done. The Queen then argued the matter with him, winding up by a passionate scene with Maurepas, to whom she expressed great anger. Alas ! the poor young Queen was more and more winning the name of " the Austrian," which stigma- tized her to the last. Mercy at this time relates a charming scene with Marie- Antoinette, in which she showed the charac- teristic simplicity and ingenuousness of her essen- tially amiable nature, which only wanted more firm- ness of pui"pose to become all that could be desired. The Queen had seemed more sad and depressed than usual; at last, with a sudden impulse of almost childish confidence, she told Mercy that she would "make her general confession"; and then dwelt in detail, with much self-reproach, on aU the particulars of her private life, begging for his advice and opinion on all her failings. There was a long conversation, in which Mercy did not spare her. She listened at- tentively, saying that her present sadness made the 132 THE STOBY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE time favorable for serious thought on her future conduct, and that she felt the necessity of coining to a decision. A fete was to be given to the King at Trianon, and preparations had been made; but it was coun- termanded by the Queen, who said, with tears, that she could not bear to indulge in amusements when she had to share the sorrows and anxieties of her mother. She even wished to give up aU court plea- sures till the political difficulties had taken a favor- able turn ; but even Mercy told her that this would be too much, and would be misjudged. In one of her letters to the Empress she says : " I wish that I could give all my blood that my dear mama should be happy and enjoy all the prosperity and peace that she deserves so well!" Notwithstanding her distress and her strenuous efforts, all that Marie- Antoinette could obtain from the French government was a promise that no aggression against the Austrian Netherlands would be permitted. The summer was very hot, and the Queen resumed her pubhc evening walks on the terrace of the palace till a late hour of the night, while the infamous re- ports of the preceding year were renewed and as- sumed greater consistency. A whole packet of songs and lampoons, in which the Queen was freely in- sulted, was thrown into one of the rooms* devoted to the use of the courtiers, by whom it was taken to 1 The " z o z STORY OP A HERON PLUMB 145 and almost unlimited excesses. He was nearly re- lated to the Due de Choiseul ; and tMs in itseK was sufficient to attract tl^e favorable notice of Marie- Antoinette, who admitted him into her intimate circle, notwithstanding the objections of Mercy, founded on his bad reputation. It was, however, more especially during the evenings, in the apart- ments of the Princesse de Gu6m6n6e, that the Queen frequently met Lauzun. One evening he appeared in military uniform, wearing a magnificent heron plume which Marie-Antoinette greatly admired. With lamentable deficiency of tact, the Princesse de Gu6men6e suggested that Lauzun should present this plimie to the Queen, which he hastened to do. The Queen, who had never imagined that he would dare to offer her what he had worn himself, was con- siderably annoyed and still more puzzled as to what she ought to do; finally she decided to accept the plume, to wear it once, and to call his attention to the fact. Certainly the proceeding was too gracious to be quite wise, but there was nothing that could justify the presumption of Lauzun. A few days later he asked for a private audience, which the Queen granted, as she would have done to any one of the same rank, Madame Campan, who was in waiting, remaining in the next room. A few minutes later the intervening door was suddenly opened by the Queen herseK, who, in a raised and angry voice, ex- claimed: "Sortez, monsiewr!^ ("Leave the room, 10 146 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE sir!") Lauzun bowed low and disappeared. The Queen was much agitated, and exclaimed: "That man shall never come again to my apartments." The Due de Lauzun became the intimate friend of the Due d'Orl^ans, and one of the worst enemies of Marie- Antoinette during the Eevolution. He was known at that time as Due de Biron, having inherited the title from an uncle. In his memoirs he gives an account of the above scene, evidently disgracefully disfigured, and bearing the stamp of a coxcombry absolutely unworthy of a gentleman. The account given by Madame Campan in its perfect simplicity has evident probabihty, and seems to present the truth, while justifying Marie-Antoinette. Once only the fair Queen was in real danger, which she escaped through the chivalrous conduct of the hero of the romance, Comte Axel de Fersen, a young Swedish nobleman who alone had the honor of having touched the heart of Marie-Antoinette without taking advantage of a momentary senti- mental weakness. The Comte de Fersen was totally unlike the cour- tiers who gathered round the Queen. This differ- ence of character caught her attention, and then captivated her esteem, with a mixture of something more tender. Fersen was tall and handsome, gentle- manlike, but reserved in manner, without the grace and witty animation of the French courtiers ; grave, self-possessed, strictly honorable in every word, in every act — a sort of Sir Charles Grandison, on whom PERILOUS FRIENDSHIP 147 the Queen felt that she could rely as a friend, while feeling for him something more than friendship. A despatch addressed by the Swedish ambassador, Comte de Creutz, to Gustavus III initiates us into the particulars of this romantic incident : " I must confide to your Majesty that the young Count Fersen found such favor with the Queen that several people took umbrage. I must acknowledge that I cannot help thinking that she liked him ; I saw indications which were too sure to allow me to do.ubt. The conduct of the young Count Fersen was admi- rable in the modesty and reserve which he showed, and in his final determination of joining the war in America. His departure removed aU danger, but evi- dently he required firmness to a degree very remark- able in a young man, to resist such fascination. The Queen could not take her eyes from him during the last days, and as she looked they filled with tears. I entreat your Majesty to keep this secret for her sake and that of the Senator Fersen.i When the Count's departure was known all the favorites were delighted. The Duchesse de Fitz-James said to him: 'What, monsieur! are you thus forsaking your conquest?' 'If I had made any, I should not forsake it,' he re- plied. ' I go from here free, and, unhappily, without causing any regret.' Tour Majesty will acknowledge that this answer showed wisdom and prudence be- yond his years." Fersen was gone, but Marie- Antoinette had not lost 1 The father of Count Axel de Feisen. 148 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTQINETTE a friend who, when evil days came, showed absolute devotion with the same discretion and the same ab- sence of all selfishness. "When he returned from America, the sentimen- tal attraction which had temporarily moved Marie- Antoinette, in a manner which might have become perilous, had disappeared amid the terrible events of her daily life, which left her no leisure for romantic dreams. She knew, however, all the more how to appreciate a friend like Fersen, for whom she re- tained the greatest confidence and esteem, with at- tachment of a different kind, but more valuable than what had characterized her first impressions. Meanwhile the Queen tried every means of divert- ing her mind and of struggling against the inexora- ble ennui which devoured her life, and which the care of the poor little girl, whose birth had brought so much disappointment, could only partly dispel. Marie- Antoinette was passionately fond of every- thing appertaining to the stage, and the little theater which she had built at Trianon now occupied her thoughts. The decorations were now finished with a profusion of gilding which had entailed great ex- pense; the hangings were of blue moir6 silk looped up with gold cords, the seats of blue velvet. It was a little gem of its kind, and the actors of the Th^toe FranQais were called for its inauguration; but when they had appeared on the boards of the miniature stage the Queen began to dream of getting up private theatricals and appearing there herself. THE THEATER OP TRIANON 149 This plan was not received with favor either by Mercy or by Maria Theresa, who distinctly said that she had never seen such amusements end in a satis- factory manner; but the Queen persisted, and was delighted with the new diversion. The King did not disapprove, and even showed great interest, follow- ing the rehearsals, and being present at the perform- ances, where the King himself and the royal family had alone the right to appear as spectators. The plays in which Marie- Antoinette acted would not be known to our readers ; but according to the account of Mercy, who was admitted to a private box by special favor, she performed prettily, with infinite grace and piquancy. Other accounts are less laudatory, and may be more impartial ; for it is scarcely possible to imagine the majestic Marie- Antoinette playing well the part of a soubrette, which she liked to undertake. At first no one was admitted to these theatrical performances, with the exception of the royal fam- ily, and once only, as we have seen, the privileged Mercy. The actors were limited to the Polignac family and their intimate friends, with the Queen and the young Madame Elisabeth, who took small parts. Even Madame de Lamballe could not obtain permission to be present, and great was the anger of those excluded, who vainly pleaded the high posts which they filled, and their unquestionable rank, which seemed to entitle them to follow the Queen on all occasions. Poor Madame de Lamballe had now 10* 150 THE STOKY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE many opportunities of seeing how completely she was set aside. She no longer resisted, but gradually withdrew from the court. She remained, however, sincerely and deeply attached to the Queen, who found her "faithful unto death" when evil days came and others fled. While Marie- Antoinette was intent on discovering new diversions to while away time, a great grief was in store for her — the death of her mother, the Em- press Maria Theresa, through an aggravated attack of an asthmatic affection which hitherto had not given cause for immediate alarm. In those days of slow communication the news of the death of the Empress came at the same time as that of her ill- ness. The King, knowing the deep aflEeetion of the Queen for her mother, shrank from the painful task of communicating the event to her, and requested the Abbe de Vermond to do so, saying that his own visit would follow that of the Abb6 at an interval of one quarter of an hour. The grief of the Queen was extreme, and is thus expressed to her brother Joseph II: "Crushed as I am by the most dreadful misfortune, it is only through floods of tears that I can write to you. Oh, my brother, oh, my friend, you alone remain to me in a land which was and will always be so dear to me ! Spare yourseK, take care of yourself ; you owe this to us all. I have only now to com- mend my sisters to your care; they have lost stOl more than I have; they will be very unhappy. DEATH OF MABIA THERESA 151 Adieu ! I cannot see what I write. Remember that we are your friends — your allies. Love me ! I em- brace you." Here stops the valuable journal of Mercy, and the daily register of every word, every act of Marie- Antoinette. Other and reliable information is within reach, but the regular and usually impartial narra- tive of Mercy, with the confidential correspondence between Maria Theresa and her faithful ambassador, cannot be replaced. CHAPTER IX Birth of the Dauphin — Joy of the King and Queen — Bankruptcy of the Prince de Gu6ni6n6e — Its consequences — Duchesse de Polignao appointed State Governess of the " Children of France" — Visit of the King of Sweden — An unexpected guest at a royal dinner-table — Visit of the Grand Duke Paul of Eussia and his consort — Etiquette concerning a bracelet — Death of the prime minister Maurepas — Appointment of Ca- lonne and its consequences — Combined economy and extra- vagance of Louis XVI — Purchase of BambouUlet and St. Cloud — Montreidl and Madame Elisabeth — "Pauvre Jacques" — Unpopidarity of the Queen. THE birtli of the long-expected Dauphin brought some comfort to Marie- Antoinette, although the Empress was denied the joy of an event which she had so earnestly desired. The young Prince was born October 22, 1781, three years after the little Madame Eoyale. The room was kept so quiet on this occasion that the Queen feared the birth of an- other daughter, and when settled in her bed, she said to the King: "See how reasonable I am. I have asked no questions." The King, seeing that her anxiety ought not to be prolonged, then said, with his eyes fuU of happy tears : " Monsieur le Dauphin asks for admittance." The Queen with overpowering joy threw her arms BIETH OF THE DAUPHIN 163 around him, and the father and mother then freely shared their happiness and gratitude for the boon granted at last, after so long an expectancy. The Princesse de Gu6m6n6e brought the child to the happy parents; when the Queen gave him back to her care, she said: "Take him — he belongs to the state ; but I will keep my daughter for myself." The son of the Comte d'Artois, the Due d'Angou- 16me,* had tiU then been considered as the heir pre- sumptive to the throne ; the birth of a dauphin was consequently not particularly welcome to his father, and the little Prince having said, "How small my cousin is, papa ! " the Comte d'Artois answered, with some bitterness : " The day will come when you will find him big enough!" The poor child was not, however, destined to suc- ceed to his father, and by his early death was spared the dreadful fate of his brother, known by the nomi- nal title of Louis XVII, The Queen had in all four children. The little Duke of Normandy, who became dauphin after the death of his elder brother, was born in April, 1785 ; and the youngest daughter, Sophie, was bom in July, 1786. She died, at the age of eleven months, in June, 1787. The Princesse de Gu^m6n6e did not long retain the honors appertaining to the care of the heir to the crown. Although separated from the Prince de Gl-u6m6n6e, she was his wife, and as such shared the 1 Afterward married to Madame Boyale. 154 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTODJETTE disgrace of his bankruptcy, which amounted to a financial catastrophe causing the ruin of innumera- ble victims, and such public indignation that the Princess had no resource but to send in her resig- nation. Every one supposed that the Comtesse (now Duchesse) de Polignac would be appointed to the vacant post of state governess to the " Children of France"; but, to general surprise, the Queen hesi- tated. Her brother, the Emperor Joseph, had ex- pressed strongly his unfavorable opinion of Madame de Polignac and her set, and the Queen herself was beginning to lose some of her delusions. But the friends of the Polignac family told her so plainly that the appointment was universally expected that with some unwillingness she gave her consent, and the Duchesse de Polignac was officially appointed to the coveted post, with the use of splendid apart- ments in the palace of Versailles. Notwithstanding some drawbacks and court wor- ries, Marie- Antoinette was now happier than she had ever been before, and every one noted a marked improvement in her daily life, which had taken a far more serious turn. Her children engrossed her thoughts, and she no longer required incessant dissi- pation. She gave up high play, avoided debts, and was far more moderate in her amusements. About this time she received first the visit of the King of Sweden, Gustavus III, traveling under the name of the Comte de Haga, and afterward the fu- VISIT OF THE KING OF SWEDEN 155 ture Emperor Paul of Russia, traveling with his consort under the name of Comte and Comtesse du Nord. Grustavus was particularly fascinated by Marie- Antoinette, for whom he professed henceforward the most enthusiastic admiration, although the Queen was not very gracious to him ; in fact, the coldness of his reception at Versailles caused great displeasure at the court of Sweden. It is said that, with some absence of tact, he in- vited himself one day to dinner with the King and Queen. The latter immediately ordered that Madame Campan should be summoned. When she appeared the Queen desired her to see immediately the comp- troller of the household, and ascertain whether the dinner was worthy to be presented to Monsieur le Comte de Haga, and to have it increased if neces- sary. The King of Sweden protested that there would certainly be enough for him ; while Madame Campan, remembering the profusion of the royal dinners, was struck dumb with astonishment. The Queen looked displeased, and repeated her orders. When she had occasion afterward for the services of Madame Campan, the Queen asked why she had seemed so bewildered, adding that she ought to have understood her intention, which was that of making the King of Sweden feel that he had ta- ken a liberty. Madame Campan answered that the whole scene had seemed to her so " bourgeois " that she had thought of the mutton chops and omelet 156 THE STOBT OF MARIB-ANTOINBTTE to which, housewives in small private families had recourse to provide for an unexpected guest when the dinner was scanty I The Queen was much amused, and told the King, who also laughed heartily. The Comte and Comtesse (Grand Duke Paul and his consort) seem to have been more refined and courtly in their manners than Gustavus. Like the King of Sweden, however, they refused the hospi- tality of the royal palace, for the sake of more liberty. The first visit of the G-rand Duchess had been to the milliner. Mademoiselle Bertin, who per- formed a remarkable achievement for the presenta- tion to the Queen — a dress of brocade bordered with pearls on a hoop having six eUs of circumference ! The Queen was much pleased with the Grand Duchess, with whom she was soon on the most friendly terms. The future Emperor Paul also showed the greatest tact and courtesy, with which every one was charmed. The Grand Duchess had with her the Baroness d'Oberkireh (the "bosom friend" so characteristic of the period), whose charming memoirs give a detailed and graphic ac- count of the imperial visit. She seems to have been completely charmed by the Queen, and cannot say enough in praise of her beauty, her grace of man- ner, and her amiability. Marie- Antoinette multi- plied her attentions to the Grand Duchess. On the day of the first performance at the theater of Ver- sailles the Queen said, addressing her guest: "J think, Madame, that like myself you are rather ETIQUETTE CONCERNING A BRACELET 157 near-sighted. I always use a glass set in my fan; wiU you try this one?" The Grand Duchess took the beautiful fan, adorned with diamonds, which the Queen handed to her, and after trial found the glass excellent. "I am de- lighted," said the Queen ; " and I hope you will keep it." "I accept it willingly," answered the G-rand Duchess, " as it will enable me to see your Majesty better." When they visited the manufactory of Sevres, the Grand Duchess was shown a splendid toilet-set adorned with gold. On examining it, she found her own device on each article; it was a present from the Queen. The Baroness d'Oberkirch relates a characteristic incident of etiquette. At the Queen's circle, after a gracious reception, Marie- Antoinette asked to look at a bracelet with the portrait of the Grand Duchess which the Baroness wore. Madame d'Oberkirch took it off ; but nothing could be handed in a direct manner to the Queen. The Baroness opened her fan, laid the bracelet upon it, and tried to present it thus; but the weight broke the fan, and the bracelet fell to the floor. Madame d'Oberkirch, with the ready presence of mind of one accustomed to court etiquette, picked it up, and handed it to the Queen, saying : " Forgive me, Madame ; it is not myself; it is the Grand Duchess" — alluding to the portrait. This ingenious way of avoiding the diffi- culty was much admired by the bystanders. 158 THE STORY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE ^he Queen asked the Baroness to speak German, that she might see whether she had entirely forgotten the language. Madame d'Oberkirch obeyed, and the Queen remained thoughtful for a moment. "Yes," she then said, "I am glad to hear again the old Deutsch; it is a fine language — but French! — when spoken by my children, it seems to me the sweetest language in the world ! " Monsieur de Maurepas died shortly after the birth of the Dauphin, and all the Polignac party began to intrigue to obtain the nomination of Monsieur de Calonne as comptroller of the finances, the most im- portant post in the government, on account of the complicated and disastrous condition of the state funds. This most unfortunate choice was against the Queen's wish; but she bore the responsibility in the sight of the nation, and when the consequences of the unprincipled mismanagement of the minister became evident, the hatred against the Queen became more and more apparent. The birth of the Duke of Normandy, which, by se- curing the succession to the crown, would at other times have caused great rejoicings, brought her fuU proof of the unfortunate change in public opinion. The King, who was considered to be economical, and who wrote down his private expenses to the last farthing, was yet, according to the familiar saying, "penny wise and pound foolish." He saved in trifles and spent large sums freely, unrestrained by Calonne, who was too much of a courtier to object MONTREUIL AND MADAME ELISABETH 159 or to remind Mm of the condition of the state coffers, which, did not possess the faculty of self-replenish- ment, like the purse of Fortunatus. The King purchased the estate of Eambouillet merely to procure for himself an increase of hunting- and shooting-grounds ; he purchased St. Cloud from the Due d'Orleans, which he gave to Marie-Antoi- nette for the sake of the grounds to be used for the royal children, as if they had not sufficient palaces already ! Eepairs were intended at Versailles, which it might become necessary to leave temporarily. The Eevolution prevented the execution of all such plans; but meanwhile St. Cloud was bought, at a cost of many millions of francs. The financial catastrophe of the Prince de Gu6m6- nee had obliged the Princess to sell a house with beautiful grounds which she possessed at MontreuU, a suburb of Versailles. This the Bang bought for Madame Elisabeth; it was to be her "Trianon," but she was not to sleep there tiU she had reached the age of twenty-five. The Eevolution broke out before then. Nevertheless Madame Elisabeth went daily to MontreuU, where, in imitation of Marie- Antoi- nette, she established Swiss cows and a dairy, which was principally to be used for the poor children of the neighborhood. But the young Swiss cow-keeper and dairyman, Jacques, seemed sad. What was the matter ? Why was he unhappy ? Jacques confessed that he had left his betrothed in his native moun- tains, and that he could not be comforted without 160 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE her. Of course this difficulty was soon settled, and Jacques was happily married to his love, who took charge of the dairy. Virtue, cows, and Swiss lovers, — here was enough to excite universal interest in that sentimental age ; and a pretty song called " Pauvre Jacques " became highly fashionable in aristocratic circles. But although Montreuil was forgiven to Madame Elisabeth, St. Cloud was not forgiven to the Queen, who became more and more unpopular. When, after the birth of the Duke of Normandy, she went to Paris for her thanksgiving service, the coldness with which she was received caused her the most painful surprise. She had wished to have the Dauphin with her, and his presence would probably have propiti- ated the crowd ; but " Madame " (the Comtesse de Provence) would accept no seat in the carriage but the- one next the Queen, and the Dauphin could have no other, having precedence over " Madame." Conse- quently, Marie- Antoinette could not take her son with her; and wherever she went during the cere- monies of the day, she was received in dead silence. On reaching the Tuileries, she would not see the courtiers assembled to meet her, but quickly going up a back staircase to the rooms prepared for her reception, followed by Madame Elisabeth, she burst into tears, repeating: "But what have I done to them? What have I done?" When she appeared at St. Cloud matters were still worse ; there were loud cries for the Bang and the ARMAND GASTON, CARDINAL DE ROHAN. AFTER RtGAUD, IN MUBEUM OF VERSAILLES. UNPOPULARITY OF THE QUEEN 161 Dauphin, dead silence for the Queen. When the waters of the park played, the populace habitu- ally said: "We are going to St. Cloud to see the fountains and the Austrian.'" The Queen had hoped that the bad management of Calonne would enable her to obtain the recall of Choiseul, but he died shortly after the birth of the Queen's second son, which she had herself announced to him in a gracious letter. Her mother was gone; Choiseul was gone; she was beginning to understand the real value of the Polignac friendship, and the price that she would have to pay for all that she had showered so blindly upon those who only sought for what she had to give. But an unforeseen and crushing blow was about to fall upon her. CHAPTER X A wonderful neotlace — Generosity of Louis XVI refused by Marie- Antoinette — An unworthy prelate — An adventuress connected with the reigning family of France — A cardinal duped — A moonlight scene in the park of Versailles — Gift of a rose — An extraordinary resemblance — Forged letters of the Queen — A prelate arrested in his pontifical robes — A trial concerning the highest nobility of France — Indigna- tion of the Queen at the verdict — What was the truth? THE extraordinary intrigue known as the affair of "The Queen's Necklace" is extremely compli- cated in its details. It will be remembered that the court jewelers, Boehmer and Bassange, had already induced the Queen to make imprudent purchases of diamonds, to be paid by instalments, much to the displeasure of the Empress Maria Theresa and the anxiety of Mercy. Encouraged by this success, Boehmer had spent several years in collecting the most perfect diamonds that could be found, which he set in a marvelous necklace of several rows, per- fectly unique of its kind. This necklace, for which he asked 1,600,000 francs,* was submitted to the King's approval. Louis XVI was delighted with the splendid jewels, and, notwithstanding the enor- 1 About $320, 000. It must not be forgotten that this sum represented a much larger amount at that time than in the present day. 162 A WONDERFUL NECKLACE 163 mous price, was inclined to present them to the Queen. But Marie-Antoinette, who had learned prudence and moderation with riper years, replied that she could not consent to the expenditure of such a large sum for such a purpose; that she had enough diamonds for all occasions; and that the sum would be far better employed in building a ship of war. The jeweler showed the most desperate distress at this refusal, and again and again vainly sought to persuade the Queen, who was resolute in her refusal. He tried to offer the necklace to all the courts of Europe, but everywhere the high price caused re- jection. His whole fortune was compromised in this venture, and yet he could not bear the thought of dividing such a chef-d^oeuvre, and thus destroying its merit, although there seemed to be no other resource. He determined to make one more effort, and having obtained an audience of the Queen, he threw himself on his knees before her, with the most vehement pro- testations, declaring that he was a ruined man, that he would be dishonored, and that if she did not help him he had no resource but putting an end to his life. The Queen with some anger replied that as she had not ordered the necklace, she could not be responsible for his misfortunes; that she had re- fused it when the King offered to give it to her ; and that she would hear no more about it ; that she was much displeased at having had to endure such a scene. 164 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE Some time afterwaxd the Queen was told that Boehmer was making fresh attempts to sell his neck- lace, and she desired Madame Campan to ask him what its fate had been. Madame Campan, having met Boehmer, made the inquiry, and was told that he had been so fortunate as to sell it at Constanti- nople for the use of the favorite Sultana. The Queen expressed great pleasure on hearing the news, and thought no more of the necklace. But meanwhile a disastrous intrigue was brewing in the dark, of which the Queen could have no sus- picion. The "Great Almoner" of France, who had the highest position in the King's chapel, was at that time the Cardinal Prince de Eohan, who owed his high dignity in the church to his illustrious name and the influence of his powerful family, rather than to his very deficient virtues. Although a cardinal, a bishop, a priest, the Prince de Eohan had nothing clerical appertaining to him beyond the splendor of his pontifical robes, the priceless lace of his rochets, and the gems which adorned his ecclesiastical insignia. His life was far from being exemplary, and his tastes were luxurious to excess; so that notwithstanding his large reve- nues he was constantly in debt and difficulty. He had a palace at Saverne, where he lived in splendor, and a house of great magnificence in Paris, where he spent a portion of the year. Of noble appearance, a gentleman from head to AN UNWORTHY PRELATE 165 foot, with fascinating naanners and attractive con- versation, the Cardinal de Eohan had every advan- tage that could be attributed to a princely courtier of the time, but nothing of what should characterize a priest. Eohan had been ambassador at Vienna for some time, and had given infinite trouble to Maria The- resa, who, in every letter, complains bitterly of his extravagance, his licentious conduct, his intrigues and double-dealing. At length, she was so utterly tired of having at her court such a perpetual source of scandal, that she insisted on his recall, which was effected in a great measure through the influence of Marie- Antoinette. As Dauphine she had been deeply offended by Bohan, who, in a pungently witty letter addressed to the Due d'AiguiUon, had caricatured the conduct of Maria Theresa at the time of the di- vision of Poland. This letter had been given by d'AiguiUon to Madame du Barry, who had read it aloud, amid peals of laughter, to the guests at one of her suppers. This sort of offense, attended by an insult to her mother, was never forgotten or forgiven by Marie- Antoinette. We have seen how she dismissed d'AiguiUon when she became queen; she also ob- tained the recall of Rohan, but she could not pre- vent him from obtaining the appointment of Great Almoner to the crown through the influence of his family, who must not be offended. Nevertheless, Marie-Antoinette perpetually made 166 THE STORY OP MAKIE-ANTOINETTE him feel her displeasure by treating him with a marked degree of coldness, which caused deep hu- miliation to the ambitious prelate, who dreamed of governing the country as prime minister, and sooner or later playing the part of a Richelieu. He felt that the enmity of the Queen would pre- vent this unless he could find some means of in- gratiating himself with her; but hitherto every attempt had proved fruitless. The Queen spoke to him only on ceremonious occasions, and limited aU. access to the court on his part to his official duties. She had even excluded him from the gardens of Trianon when they were illuminated in honor of the Grrand Duke Paul. One of the keepers who was in- duced to admit him was punished, and would have been dismissed if the intercession of protectors had not determined Marie- Antoinette to show indulgence. The aversion of the Queen was deeply galling to the Cardinal's pride ; his vanity was also vexed by the contemptuous indifference of a pretty woman, which he could hardly believe to be sincere. The age was one of high-flown romance ; the Cardinal de Eohan was unprincipled, sentimental, and disposed to credulity. His interest was roused by a visit that he received from a young and attractive woman calling herself the Comtesse de La Motte-Valois, and claiming to be a lineal descendant of Henry 11, King of France. Her claims had been admitted by the court genealo- gist, and the papers that she showed were authentic; AN ADVENTURESS 167 she was really the lineal descendant of Henry II, but, as may be supposed, by a natural son. The family had been reduced to the greatest poverty, and lived as peasants with their four children. One day, as the little Jeanne, with the assistance of one of her sisters, was carrying a bundle of dry sticks for the fire of their wretched cottage, she was noticed by the Marquise de BoulainviUiers, who, on hearing her history from the cur6 of the parish, was interested in the child, and had the three little girls educated in a school at Passy. The boy was prepared for the navy, and through the influence of the kind bene- factress the King granted a pension of eight hundred francs to each child. Jeanne was then taken as a sort of companion by a Madame de Surmont at Bar- sur-Aube. There she met the Comte de La Motte, who belonged to a regiment of gendarmerie, in which at that time the privates held the position of gentle- men and ranked as officers. Although he was as poor as herself, the Comte de La Motte was induced to marry her; and in 1782 the pair of adventurers came to Paris, where they lived in poverty and debt, selling and pawning what they had, even to their clothes. In the beginning of 1784 Madame de La Motte thought of imploring the pity of the Cardinal de Rohan, and of inducing him to present a petition to the King. Madame de La Motte was pretty, in- sinuating, coquettish. The Cardinal was captivated and was much interested in the miserable situation of a descendant of the royal Valois. 168 THE STORY OP MABIE-ANTOINETTE He adAdsed Madame de La Motte to apply to the Queen, at the same time expressing his regret at his inability" to assist her in this, and betraying his own bitter feelings with regard to the persistent aversion shown to him by Marie- Antoinette. Madame de La Motte, who was a perfect demon of intrigue, at once saw the weak point, and determined to make use of it. She never succeeded in obtaining admission to the Queen, but was received by " Madame" (Comtesse de Provence), whose intercession obtained the grant of a small pension. Madame de La Motte, however, persuaded the Cardinal that she had been received several times by the Queen, who had treated her with the greatest kindness, and not only had shown her the warmest interest, but had evidently taken a great fancy to her, and had written to her confidentially. These letters, fabricated by an accomplice called Eetaux de Villette, ought to have awakened the Car- dinal's suspicions; but he was fascinated, infatuated. Madame de La Motte told the Cardinal that she had spoken of him to the Queen; that she had succeeded in removing unfavorable impressions ; and that the Queen had desired her to request him to write his justification and transmit it to her. The Cardinal, delighted, drew up an elaborate explanation of his conduct, which Madame de La Motte undertook to give into the Queen's hands. A few days later she brought a note which was said to come from the Queen, whose handwriting had been imitated, in ,;4^w were the cause of his death, and gave him his bless- ing, as also to me." The child was seen to raise his hand solemnly, the King having required him to take an oath that he would never seek to avenge his death. During the last hours of his life, Louis XVI seemed transfigured. His quiet and calm firmness, his truly Christian feelings of forgiveness toward his enemies, his faith, his resignation, are described with blended wonder and admiration by all who came near him. The interview, so harrowing to all, had lasted nearly two hours, when, at a quarter past ten, the LOUIS XVI. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BHAUN, CUEMENT A CO. N. Y., OF THE PAINTING BY ANT0INE-FRANC0I3 CALLET, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. FABEWELL INTERVIEW WITH HIS FAMILY 289 King rose decidedly, signifying to the weeping wo- men and children that they must leave him to pre- pare for coming death. The Queen entreated to be allowed to spend the night near him, but he firmly refused, saying that he must be alone and calm. " I will see you to-morrow morning," he said. " You promise this ? " cried the Queen. " Yes, I promise ; I wiU see you at eight o'clock." " Why not at seven ? " cried the Queen, anxiously. " Well, then, at seven ; but now adieu ! " The word was uttered with such intense pathos that a fresh burst of grief followed, and Madame Royale fainted at her father's feet. Clery flew to raise her, assisted by Madame Elisabeth. The King repeated, " Adieu ! Adieu ! " and broke away, taking refuge in his own bedchamber. The princesses, still sobbing violently, went upstairs. Clery tried to fol- low, and to assist in taking up the still unconscious Madame Eoyale; but the guards forced him to desist. The King, as soon as he had recovered sufficient self-command, returned to the Abb6 Edgeworth, with whom he remained in spiritual converse till midnight. The Abb6 had obtained permission to say mass on the following morning in the King's bedchamber, and had procured what was necessary from a neighboring church. But he was warned that all must be over by seven o'clock, because " Louis would be taken to execution at eight." The King then went to bed, and fell into the deep sleep of physical exhaustion. CHAPTER XX The King prepares for death — His kindness to the last — He hears mass and receives communion — The Abb6 Edgeworth persuades him to give up the last interview with the Queen and royal family — He bids farewell to C16ry — His last words to the porter of the prison — A fruitless attempt to save him on his way to the scaflold — He prepares for his execution — His address to the people — His death. AT five o'clock in the morning the King "was . awakened by C16ry, who was lighting the fire, and he immediately asked for the Abb6 Edgeworth. C16ry replied that he was lying on his bed ; and the King, thoughtful for others to the last, then asked quickly where he had slept himself. When C16ry answered, "On that chair. Sire," his ever-kind master exclaimed, "I am sorry!" He then de- sired C16ry to summon the Abb4, and going with him into the turret, they remained in converse for an hour, while C16ry prepared what was necessary for the mass. With the same perfect calmness which he had shown throughout, the King asked CMry if he could serve the mass ; he replied in the affirmative, but said that he did not know the responses by heart. The King took a missal, looked out the places, and gave THE KING HEAE8 MASS AND BECEIVES COMMUNION 291 it to his faithful valet, taking another for himself. Then, kneeling devoutly, he heard the mass and received communion. When the Abb6 retired to remove his vestments after mass, the King aflEec- tionately took leave of poor C16ry, who was heart- broken, and thanked him for his faithful service. A great deal of noise was now heard round the prison, and cavalry regiments were coming into the court-yard. The King said quietly: "They are prob- ably assembling the National Guards. The time is drawing near." He then saw that it was seven o'clock, and spoke of summoning the Queen and royal family, according to his promise; but the Abb^ earnestly dissuaded him on the ground of the harrowing nature of such an interview at such a time. The King hesitated for a moment, and then said with resignation that he felt it would be too distressing for the Queen, and that it was better to be deprived himself of this last comfort, so as to leave her a few minutes more of delusive hope. He then summoned Clery and gave into his hands a small packet for the Queen, containing a seal for the Dauphin, and his wedding-ring,^ with the hair of different members of the royal family. " Tell her that I do not part with the ring without pain. Tell the Queen, tell my dear children, tell my sister, that although I had promised to see them this morning, I have wished to spare them the sorrow of such a separation. It is a great sacrifice for me to go with- 1 In Prance men also have wedding-rings. 292 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE out embracing them once more! I charge you to give them my last farewell." One of the guards came up to the King. "You have asked for scissors ; we must know with what intention." " I wish Cl^ry to cut my hair." After deliberation the request was refused I At nine o'clock the door opened noisily, and Santerre came in, followed by ten gendarmes, who stood in two lines. " You have come to fetch me ? " said the King. " Yes," answered Santerre. " In one minute I will foUow you." He then went into the turret, knelt before the priest, and asked for his blessing, and his prayers that divine support might be granted to the end. Louis XVI then left the turret, and came toward the guards, who filled the room. Addressing one of these, he held a folded paper, which he requested that he would give to the Queen — "to my wife," he quickly added, correcting the expression. "That is no concern of mine," said the man brutally ; " I am here to take you to the scaffold." The King turned to another : " I beg that you wiU give this paper to my wife. You may read it ; there are some wishes expressed, which I should be glad that the Commune should know." The man took the paper — but the Queen never received it. The King then asked C14ry for his hat, and spoke of his faithful servant, requesting THE KING'S LAST WORDS TO THE PORTER 293 that his watch should be given to him, and that henceforward he should serve "the Queen — my wife." No answer was made. The King ^ then said firmly, addressing Santerre, "Let us go." The Abb6 fol- lowed him as he went down-stairs. On meeting the porter of the prison, the King said: "I spoke to you sharply the other day ; do not bear me ill-will." The man made no reply, and looked away. The King crossed the first courtyard of the prison on foot, and turned twice to look up at the closed windows where wooden shutters prevented him from seeing those he loved. In the second court- yard was a hackney-coach, near which stood two gendarmes. The King and his confessor took the two seats facing the horses, the gendarmes took the seats opposite, and the coach immediately drove off. It was a dark, misty January morning. The pres- ence of the two soldiers precluded the possibility of conversation; the priest therefore handed his brevi- ary to the King, and pointed out appropriate psalms, which the King read devoutly and with perfect calmness, to the evident astonishment of the gen- darmes. The shops were shut along the way, and crowds of armed citizens stood on the pavement as the coach, preceded and followed by cavalry and artillery, went slowly through the streets, where all the windows were closed. Lines of troops stood on iNo mention is made of any food taken by the King, or even offered to him ; he seems to have gone to the scaffold fasting. 18* 294 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE each side, while drums beat solemnly, as if for a military funeral. As the coach passed along the Boulevards near the Porte St. Denis, a few young men rushed for- ward, waving swords and crying loudly : " Come, all who would save the Eang!" There was no re- sponse, and they were obliged to fly for their own lives. They were pursued, and several were arrested, with fatal consequences. The King, absorbed in prayer and religious meditation, had not even per- ceived the vain attempt to effect his deliverance. The coach had at last reached the Rue Royale and the Place de la Eevolution,^ where the crowd was immense. The scaffold was a little to the left of the site where the Obelisk now stands, but nearer the Champs Elys^es, toward which the guillo- tine was turned.^ A mass of troops formed a square around the fatal spot. The coach stopped at a distance of a few paces. The King, feeling that the motion had ceased, looked up from his prayer-book, saying quietly: "We have reached the place, I think." One of the executioner's assistants opened the door. 1 Now the Place de la Concorde, board tben turns doipw, bringing him 2 As the mechanism of the guil- to a horizontal position, with the lotine may not be understood by neckinahalf-hoopofwood,of which the reader, a few words of expla- the remaining half comes down to nation seem necessary. The con- meet the other, securing the head, demned stands before an upright The knife then falls mechanically board hinged between two posts, on the neck. The whole is managed To this he is securely bound ;, the with extreme rapidity. THE KING PREPARES FOR HIS EXECUTION 295 The King earnestly commended the priest who ac- companied him to the care of the gendarmes, and then stepped from the coach. Three men surrounded him and tried to take off his coat. He calmly pushed them back and removed it himself, opening his shirt-collar and preparing it for the knife. The executioners, who seemed at first disconcerted and almost awed, then again came around him, holding a rope. The King drew back quickly, exclaiming : " What do you want to do ? " " To tie your hands." The King exclaimed indignantly: "Tie my hands ! No, I will not submit to this. Do your duty, but do not attempt to bind me; you shall not do it I" The executioners persisted, and spoke loudly. The King looked toward the Abb6 Edgeworth, who at once saw the impossibility of resistance, and said gently : " Sire, this last insult will only provide a fresh point of resemblance between your Majesty and the G-od who wUl be your recompense." The King looked up to heaven. " Assuredly, His example alone could induce me to submit to such an indignity." Then holding out his hands: "Do as you please ; I will drink the cup to the dregs." His hands were tied, and with the assistance of his confessor he ascended the steps of the scaffold, which were very steep. When he reached the top he broke away from the Abb6, walked firmly across the scaffold, silenced the drums by a glance of authority. 296 THE STORY OF MAEEB-ANTOINETTE and then in a voice so loud that it was audible on the opposite side of the Place de la Revolution, he uttered these words : " I die innocent of all the crimes imputed to me. I forgive those who have caused my death, and I pray Q-od that the blood you are about to shed may never fall on France." There was a shudder that ran through the crowd like a great wave; but, at the word of command, the drums beat a prolonged roll, and the voice could no longer be heard. The King, seeing that all further address to the crowd would be fruitless, turned to the guillotine and calmly took his place on the fatal plank, to which he was fastened. The apparatus turned over, and the knife f ell.^ It was then a quarter past ten o'clock A. M. on the 21st of January, 1793. The executioner held up the severed head, turning as he did so to the four sides of the Place. The King of France was dead. " Le roi est mort ! " But no one dared to cry the traditional response : "Vive le roi ! " "Le roi!" The heir to the once glorious title was now a poor little child, weeping bitterly, in a prison, by the side of his widowed mother. 1 To my regret, I have found no mention in the narrative of the Abb6 EdgewoTth, or of others, of the famous words attributed to him: "Son of St. Louis, ascend to heaveni" CHAPTER XXI Grief of the Queen — She remains in the closest seclusion — The Dauphin is taken away 'from the Queen — Her desperate re- sistance — The Princesses left without attendance — They per- form menial work and wait on the Queen — She is removed to the Coneiergerie prison — Madame Bichard — Narrative of her servant, Rosalie Lamorli&re — Arrival of the Queen — Her cell — The child of Madame Bichard. THE unhappy Queen had spent the night lying on her bed, without undressing, incessantly " sobbing and shuddering with grief," says Madame Royale. The morning passed in the horrible ex- pectation of the coming sorrow, supposing every minute that the door was about to open for the summons to the last farewell. Seven o'clock — eight — nine, and still no message. They heard the noise of horses and troops, but still the mourners hoped for the last word, the last look. Then all was silent. They scarcely dared to acknowledge what they feared ; but after a period of agonized suspense they heard the public criers proclaim that all was over. The Queen then entreated to be allowed to see C16ry, hoping to learn from him what had taken place, why she had not seen the Bang, what messages 298 THE STOET OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE he had left for her, for his children, for his sister. This was refused! One of the municipal guards, however, who was more humane and compassionate than the others, managed to see Clery, to gather aU particulars from his hps, and to transmit them to the Queen, for whom he also procured newspapers, which the fam- ily were able to read secretly. The Queen was in a state of absolute prostration, from which she was roused, in some measure, by the serious illness of her daughter. "Happily," says the young Princess, with pathetic simplicity — " happily, I became so ill, that her thoughts were diverted from her grief in some measure." Mourn- ing attire had been granted at the earnest request of the bereaved family; but nothing could induce the Queen to go down-stairs into the garden; not even for the sake of her children's health, after the re- covery of the young Princess. To reach the garden, it was impossible to avoid passing before the door of the King's apartment, which was immediately un- der her own ; and this she could not endure. After several weeks of close seclusion, some of the kinder guards suggested that the royal family should go to the top of the tower, and take the air on a sort of circular walk, which existed between the conical sum- mit and the parapet bordering the roof. To this the Queen consented ; but she could never be persuaded to go down-stairs to the garden. Meanwhile, with the obstinate adherence to royalist traditions which SHE BEMAINS IN THE CLOSEST SECLUSION 299 at that time seemed a duty as sacred as that of a profession of religious faith, she treated her son, as King of France, with the etiquette which had been used by the royal family toward Louis XVI, even in the prison. This was more than imprudent, un- der the circumstances of her situation, which she would not or could not understand, still preserving her delusions, still convinced that they would all be delivered by the interference of the allied powers. She never dreamed of being subjected to a judicial trial, like the King ; the only possible danger seemed to be that of a massacre in the prison. Her royalist adherents, who foresaw more clearly what would probably be her fate, formed many plans for the escape of the Queen and royal family, with the connivance of some of the guards, who were won over either by real sympathy for the royal prisoners or by promises of a rich reward. But the spies placed near them — Tison and his wife — were on the watch, and perpetually gave warning of what they saw or suspected, causing all plans to fail, through some unforeseen complication, at the very time when suc- cess seemed within reach. These attempts only caused increased vexation to the prisoners, who were perpetually subjected to domiciliary visits, and were repeatedly searched, when everything that could be taken from them was carried away. The respect shown to the boy-King irritated those who governed at that time, and they were further exasperated by the insurrection which had broken out 300 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE in La Vendue, where Louis XVII was styled king* Thenceforward the poor child's fate was sealed. On the night of July 3 of that miserable year, the guards appeared at ten o'clock bearing a decree by which it was ordered that " the son of Louis Capet " should be separated from his mother, and given into the hands of a " tutor," ' who would be appointed by the Commune. The scene that followed is one of the most har- rowing recorded in history. The terrified child uttered loud cries and entreaties, clinging desper- ately to his mother, who knew only too well into what hands he was about to fall, and what would be his fate. She refused to give him up, and defended him with the strength of despair, telling them to kill her before taking her son from her. A whole hour passed thus — in desperate resistance on the part of Marie-Antoinette, in threats and violence on the part of the guards, in tears and supplications from Madame Elisabeth and Madame Eoyale. At last the guards declared so positively that they would kiU both of her children, that the Queen, exhausted, ceased her resistance. Madame Elisabeth and Ma- dame Eoyale then took up the child from his little bed, and dressed him — for the Queen was powerless. When ready, she gave him herself, into the hands of the guards, with floods of tears, " foreseeing," says Madame Royale, "that she would never see him iTMs so-oalled "tutor" was the cobbler Simon, by -whom the poor little Prince was treated with the greatest cruelty. THE DAUPHIN 18 TAKEN AWAY FKOM THE QUEEN 301 again. The poor little fellow kissed us all very afEectionately, and followed the guards, crying bit- terly." This blow was perhaps the hardest of all to bear for Marie-Antoinette. Her husband had been put to death, and the affliction was intensely bitter; yet he had died like a Christian hero, and she seemed to see him in heaven. But for a mother to know that the dear, sweet child, so fondly loved, so carefully tended, was given over into the hands of brutes, from whom every kind of Ul-usage must be expected, and who would destroy both body and soul — here was indeed the most dreadful of all sor- rows 1 A child, from whom so much could be ex- pected, such an exceptionally amiable and affection- ate nature, so attractive in every respect, and such a treasure to the widowed mother ! After the poor little Dauphin was taken away, they were left to mourn in peace, " which was some comfort," says Madame Eoyale. The municipal guards now locked them up in their rooms, but did not remain with them. No one now did the house- work. Madame Elisabeth and Madame Eoyale made the beds, swept the rooms, and waited on the Queen. The guards came three times a day to bring food and to examine the bolts and the bars of the windows, lest anything should be disturbed. The prisoners were able to go up by an inner stair- case to the top of the tower, where the Queen spent hours looking through a crack in a wooden partition 302 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE which now divided the walk in two parts, in the hope of seeing her son go by. Madame Elisabeth was informed by the guards of the iU-usage to which the poor child was subjected, " and which was be- yond imagination," says Madame Royale, "more especially because he cried at being separated from us." But Madame Elisabeth entreated the guards to keep all these particulars from the Queen, who was only too much enlightened, when she saw the chUd pass by, and watched his pale, sorrowful face. The last time that such miserable comfort was granted to her, was on July 30. She had watched long, and at last she saw him, cowed and terrified, bereft of his golden curls, wearing the red revolu- tionary cap, and, alas ! singing a song of coarse in- sult against herself ! She knew then, how the child must have suffered, before he could have been brought to this. On the 1st of August, one of those night visits of the guards which always brought woe to the prisoners aroused them, at two o'clock in the morning, to hear a decree by which Marie- Antoinette was to be re- moved to the Conciergerie prison. Her daughter and sister-in-law entreated to be allowed to follow her, but this was refused. The guards obliged her to dress in their presence, and then searched her pockets, taking possession of their contents, which consisted only of the hair of her husband and chil- dren, a multiplication table used by the Dauphin, with miniatures of Madame de Lamballe and two SHE IS REMOVED TO THE CONCIEKaEEIE PRISON 303 other princesses. They left her only a handkerchief and a smelling-bottle. The Queen did not utter a word till she embraced her daughter, whom she exhorted to keep up her courage, to take care of her aunt, and to be obedient to her as to another mother. She then threw herself in the arms of Madame Elisabeth, who whispered to her a few words; the Queen then quickly left the room, without daring to look back. The gloomy prison of the Conciergerie, on the quay bordering the Seine, was one of the most dreaded among the places where the victims of the Eevolution were confined. It had, however, one redeeming point : the humanity shown to the pris- oners by Richard, the chief jailer, and his wife. The servant of the latter, named Eosalie Lamorliere, has left a minute account of the time spent there by the unfortunate Marie- Antoinette. On August 1, 1793, Madame Richard called her servant Eosalie, telling her the Queen was coming, and that they must both sit up to wait for her. Meanwhile a cell, underground, like a cellar, but comparatively large, was prepared to receive her. A folding-bed made up of two mattresses on a canvas frame, with a bolster and a thin covering, was prepared for her use ; but Madame Eichard did her best to make it endurable, by adding delicately fine sheets, and a pillow. The furniture was com- pleted by a table, with what was absolutely neces- sary for her ablutions, and two straw chairs ! The 304 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE Queen of France, for vrhom such an abode had been prepared, arrived at three o'clock in the morning in a hackney-coach, and came into the prison with her usual majestic mien, surrounded by numerous gen- darmes. She followed a dark passage, lighted by miserable lamps night and day, till she reached a low door ; and as she passed through, her head, which had not been sufficiently bowed, struck against it. One of those who followed her asked if she was hurt. " Oh, no," she replied ; " nothing can hurt me now." When all formalities had been performed she was left alone vrith the jailer's wife and Rosalie. She looked around her with an expression of astonish- ment as for the first time, she saw what a prison could be ; at the Temple she was provided with decent furniture and was given necessaries. But now! She was silent, however, although she looked earnestly at Madame Richard and at her servant, as if trying tq guess what she could expect from them. "Without speaking, she stepped on a stool, which Rosalie had brought, in the hope of adding something to her de- ficient comfort, and fastened her watch to a nail in the wall. She then began to undress quietly. Rosalie, who was shy and frightened in the pres- ence of fallen majesty, now came forward respectfully to offer her assistance. "I thank you, my good girl," said the Queen kindly; " since I have had no one to attend me, I have learned to wait upon myself." The dawn was just beginning to appear; Madame MARIE-ANTOINETTE AND HER CHILDREN. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BFUUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, IN MLTSEUnl OF VERSAILLES. EEB CELL 305 Richard took away the candles, and, followed by- Rosalie, left the Queen alone. The next day two gendarmes were placed in the cell, and remained there permanently, never leaving the unfortunate Queen any privacy. By the care of Madame Richard, a screen was put up before her bed and was her only protection against their incessant watchfulness. They drank, smoked, played cards, quarreled, and swore in her presence ; the smoke was particularly disagreeable to her, and affected her eyes, besides causing headaches. As she had brought nothing with her from the Temple, she begged to be allowed the use of the Unen and other requisites which she had left there. After some delay, a par- cel was brought, containing a few articles care- fully folded and put together. As she looked at each, the Queen's eyes fiUed with tears, and turning to Madame Richard, she said mournfully : " In the care with which all this has been chosen and pre- pared, I recognize the hand of my poor sister Elisa- beth." After receiving this parcel of necessaries, the Queen wished to put them away but had no means of doing so in her cell. She begged Madame Rich- ard to lend her a box of some kind, but the jailer's wife dared not procure one for her. At last, Rosalie offered a bandbox of her own, which the Queen ac- cepted with thankfulness. Poor Rosalie also lent her a mirror of the humblest kind, which she had bought at a trifling cost for her own use — a small glass in a painted tin frame, which was received as a 306 THE STOEY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE boon by the royal lady, whose majestic beauty had been reflected in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles ! Two or three days after the transfer of Marie- Antoinette to the Conciergerie, Madame Eichard came into the cell, followed by her youngest chUd, a pretty blue-eyed boy with curls of fair hair. The poor Queen ran up to him, caught him in her arms, and kissed him passionately, weeping bitterly as she did so, and saying that he reminded her of the Dau- phin. She was so much affected by this incident that the kindly wife of the jailer never brought the cMld again to the Queen's cell. CHAPTER XXII Gentleness and patience of the Queen — Care of Eosalie — En- forced idleness — Her watch and diamond rings taken from her — A fatal flower — A pricked paper — Arrest of the jailer and his family — The Queen transferred to another cell — A new jailer — The Queen brought to trial — Attempt to obtain scandalous testimony from her own children — Her sentence unexpected by her — Her letter to Madame Elisabeth — Bosalie — Ministrations of a constitutional priest refused — "Errors, but not crimes." ALL the narratives of those who came near to . Marie- Antoinette in her days of misfortune are unanimous in their account of her gentleness and patience, and her quick feeling of gratitude for any kindness or attention shown to her. She never complained, says Eosalie, and cared only for cleanli- ness around her. She was particular in this respect ; but as Eosalie tried to satisfy her, she received the pewter spoons and forks with a grateful smile, be- cause they were always bright and clean. Her din- ner was nicely served, with clean table-linen, and was carefully cooked by Eosalie. She had daily the soup, — so inevitable at a French table, — a dish of meat (alternately poultry and a joint), vegetables, which she seemed to like better than meat, and fruit. As usual, she drank only water, but the kind jailers 307 308 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE managed to procure tlie Ville d'Avray water to whicli she was accustomed. Rosalie admired the neat adroitness with which she carved her food, and still more her beautiful hands, so white and so delicately formed. She wore at first diamond rings, and in the long hours of enforced idleness which were so painful to her she sat in deep thought, playing unconsciously with these rings, which were taken from her by the commissaries who frequently visited the prison, and who probably appropriated them to their own use ; for they are not mentioned in any list of confiscated articles. They also took her watch, which was particularly dear to her ; for she had brought it from Vienna when, as a girl of fourteen, she had come to France to meet such an unexpected fate. She made no complaint, but shed tears when these last treasures were taken from her. The privation of occupation was particularly pain- ful to one whose time had been principally employed in needlework since her misfortunes had obliged her to live in retirement. Even knitting-needles were refused ! The women employed in the prison were obliged to mend her clothes incessantly, for they became injured, and in a manner rotted, by the excessive damp of her cell, which was far below the level of the neighboring Seine. Her black prunella shoes were covered with mold, although Rosalie cleaned them regularly ! The Queen wore alternately her black widow's garb and a white morning dress. She KNFORCED IDLENESS 309 was SO weary of inaction that she pulled threads from the canvas on which the paper covering the walls of her cell was pasted, and plaited these threads into a sort of flat braid, with the help of pins fastened to her knee! Sometimes, when the guards were playing at cards, she stood hy and watched them. Marie-Antoinette daily read a de- votional book that was in her possession, and was engaged in prayer for a considerable portion of the day. She sought relaxation by reading the travels of Captain Cook, lent to her by the jailer, in which she was interested, saying that she liked to read " dreadful adventures." Poor Queen ! Could any be worse than her own ! No candle was given her when night came, and Eosalie tried to do what was neces- sary to prepare for the night in as dilatory a man- ner as she could, that the Queen might share the light which she brought with her for as long a time as was possible. She went to bed by the dim light of a lamp in the courtyard, on which the high win- dow of her cell opened and allowed a glimmer to reach her. But painful as was her condition, it was about to become worse still, in consequence, alas! of the royalist attempts to save her, which had no result save exasperating her enemies and increasing her sufEerings. The Chevalier de Eougeville,^ a devoted royalist, succeeded in gaining admission to the 1 Called the " Chevalier de Maison Rouge " in the well-known novel of Dumas. 20* 310 THE STOEY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE Queen's cell in disguise with a plan of flight. Un- happily, she was not prepared to see him, and started in a manner which did not escape the observation of those around her. As he stood near her, he dropped a carnation on the floor at her feet. This she took up when she thought that she had found a suitable opportunity; it contained a bit of thin paper with a few words of apparently little importance, but ending more significantly : " I will come on Friday." She tried to prick with a pin a sort of answer to this communication; but the guards, who had watched her, took the paper,* and reported the whole incident. The jailer and his wife, with their daughter, were immediately arrested and sent to the Madelonnettes prison ; another jailer was appointed, whose wife, happily for Marie-Antoinette, retained the servant Rosalie as an assistant. The Queen was then (September 11), transferred to another cell where she remained till the day of her execution (October 16). The new jailer, a man named Bault, although harsh and rough in manner and strict in supervision, was not really unkind; but he was extremely afraid of what might be the consequence of any indulgence shown to the prisoner, although disposed to do what he could to alleviate her suffer- ings without injuring himself. The cell allotted to the Queen had still more the characteristics of a dungeon than her first prison. The walls were ex- tremely thick, but so damp that the wet drops 1 The pricked paper still exists among the State Papeis, A NEW JAILER 311 trickled down upon her bed. Bault nailed up a piece of carpet as a protection, saying gruffly to those who objected that he wished to prevent the prisoner from hearing what took place outside. At the same time he declared that, being responsible for the person of his prisoner, no one should go into her cell^ without his leave. The two guards were thus obliged to remain in the adjoining cell, Bault retaining the key of the intervening door. This delivered the Queen from the continual presence of the guards, but limited the attentions shown to her by Eosalie, who could not come in without the jailer. Before the fatal conspiracy of the carnation the Queen had seemed hopeful of being soon claimed by her family in Austria, and Rosalie was told that she should go with her, the Queen wishing to retain her services. But since her transfer to the new cell she seemed anxious, and repeatedly paced to and fro, apparently deep in thought. In fact, the fate that awaited her, but which even now she did not fully anticipate, was only hastened by the unfortunate and useless attempts to effect her deliverance. On October 3, 1793, the Convention issued a decree ordering judgment to be passed on the "Widow Capet." Then began the odious attempt to gather testimony against her from her own children! On 1 The Queen's cell is still to be seen at the Conciergerie. It is nar- row, with thick walls and a small window, the top of which is on a level with the courtyard. The floor is paved with hricks, put up edge- wise. 312 THE STOBY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE the 6th of October, two commissaries, Pache and Chaumette, came to examine the unfortunate Dau- phin. The child had been beaten and ill-used "be- yond what could be imagined," as his sister, Madame Eoyale, testifies ; he was also perpetually threatened with the guillotine, which frightened him to such a degree that he fainted several times through excess of terror. Added to aU this, he was forced to drink raw spirits, which threw him into a stupefied state ! Cowed with terror, and too young to understand the meaning of the questions addressed to him concern- ing his mother, he answered as he saw that he was required to do. It must not be forgotten that the unhappy child was only eight years old, and that he had already witnessed scenes of horror which had only too much enlightened him as to what he might expect. On the 7th of October the commissaries, with several guards, went up to the rooms occupied by Madame Elisabeth and her niece, whom they ordered to follow them. For the first time Madame Elisabeth was pale and trembling ; but she was not allowed to accompany the young girl, who went away with their persecutors. In her simple narrative Madame Eoyale says : " It was the first time that I had ever been alone with men. I did not know what they intended to do with me, but I prayed inwardly to God for protection." When she saw her brother, who was to be examined again in her presence, she ran to embrace him, but' THE QUEEN BROUGHT TO TRIAL 313 he was taken from her, and she was examined alone in the first instance. " Chaumette then questioned me on many wicked things of which they accused my mother and my aunt. I was thunderstruck at such horrors, and although I was so frightened, I could not help saying that these suppositions were infamous. Notwithstanding my tears, they persist- ently questioned me for a long time. There were things that I did not understand, but what I could understand was so jdreadf ul that I cried through in- dignation." The Dauphin was then recalled, and the brother and sister were examined face to face; but the poor child was naturally more helpless than even the young and innocent Madame Eoyale. The ordeal lasted three hours before the young Princess was taken back to her aunt, who was then summoned in her turn. Madame Elisabeth answered with con- temptuous energy and spirit, and was detained only an hour instead of three. " The deputies saw that they could not frighten her as they hoped to do in my case, but the life that I had led for the last four years, and the example of my parents, had given me strength of mind." Five days later the Queen was summoned in her turn for examination previous to her trial. She gave her name as " Marie- Antoinette of Lorraine and Austria, aged about thirty-eight years, widow of the King of France." She answered clearly and adroitly all the questions put to her, and was then informed that Tronson 314 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE Ducoudray, a barrister of reputation, and Chauveau- Lagarde, had been officially appointed as counsel for the defense. But Chauveau-Lagarde, who at once went to consult with the Queen, found that the trial was to commence the next day (October 15) and vainly asked for a delay of three days (certainly not too much !) to prepare his defense and examine the indictment. The refusal of the government proved only too clearly that no justice could be ex- pected, and that the Queen's fate was sealed before- hand. On the following day (October 15) the proceedings began before the Eevolutionary Court or Tribunal, which then held its sittings in the large halP of the prison. The Queen was summoned at eight o'clock in the morning, and, according to the testimony of Eosalie, without having taken any nourishment. She wore her widow's dress and cap, over which was fastened a black crape scarf. Her hair was simply but neatly arranged, rather high on her forehead ; it was white on the temples, but not perceptibly gray elsewhere. She looked pale and thin, but the ma- jestic lines of her queen-like face remained, and she retained the grace and dignity of carriage which had always been so remarkable. She walked firmly to her seat — an arm-chair which, with unusual courtesy, had been provided for her use. She looked steadily at her judges, and as the indict- ment with its multiplied insults was read, as she 1 Now destroyed. THE QUEEN BROUGHT TO TEIAL 315 heard herself compared to Fr6degonde, Messahna, and all the similar monsters known to history, she drew up her still proud head, and played indiffer- ently on the arm of the chair with her fingers, " as if on a pianoforte," says one of the spectators. When questioned, she answered clearly and steadily, often showing considerable acuteness in her replies to treacherous questions, where the least inadver- tence might have caused serious consequences. To one accusation — that concerning the Dauphin's rev- elations — she made no reply. This was brought forward as a sort of admission of guilt. She then spoke, exclaiming in vibrating tones which went home to all around her : " I did not answer, because nature itself recoils from such an accusation ad- dressed to a mother I I appeal to all those who may be here ! " There were murmurs in the crowd — a momentary reaction in her favor, which alarmed those who had sworn that she should die. Witnesses were sum- moned, and the Queen was cross-examined on their testimony, often of the most absurd kind. At four o'clock an interval of rest was granted, and the Queen, who was utterly exhausted, was al- lowed to leave her seat. An officer who saw that she was nearly fainting gave her a glass of water and assisted her to leave the court ; it will scarcely be believed that this act of common humanity caused his arrest ! The jailer Bault then desired Eosalie to take some soup to the Queen ; but the poor girl was 316 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE not allowed to give it herself, the bowl being taken from her, to her great distress, merely to satisfy the curiosity of an abandoned woman who wished for an opportunity of seeing the Queen to her satisfac- tion! At five o'clock p. m. the proceedings were resumed, and lasted tiU four o'clock on the following morning (the 16th of October), when the sentence was given out by which " Marie-Antoinette of Austria, widow of Louis Capet," was condemned to the penalty of death, which penalty was to be carried out within twenty-four hours. Chauveau-Lagarde here states that the Queen had not even then believed in the possibility of such a sentence; that the worst she an- ticipated was the separation from her children which would be the consequence of perpetual banishment from France. Both of the Queen's advocates were put under arrest before she left the court, and were conse- quently unable to hear from herself what she felt ; but they saw that she had received an unexpected shock, and for a moment seemed thunderstruck. She, however, quickly recovered her presence of mind and her fortitude. As she reached the railing which separated her from the spectators assembled in the court, she raised her head, and walked out with a firm step. "When she reached her cell she asked immediately for writing materials, without taking rest, although the night was nearly spent, and her trial had lasted HER LETTER TO MADAME ELISABETH 317 for twenty hours, with no food but the bowl of soup taken on the preceding evening. The energy of mind which could command such physical exhaus- tion is truly wonderful. She sat down, and by the feeble light of two tallow candles wrote to Madame Elisabeth a letter dated the 16th of October, half-past four o'clock in the morning. This letter, which was not given to Ma- dame Elisabeth, has no signature; but it is neverthe- less considered authentic, and is countersigned by several well-known revolutionists. It is preserved among the State Papers. The Queen writes most affectionately to Madame Elisabeth, thanking her for the sacrifices she has made for all ; while assuring her of her own calmness in the presence of approaching death, she sends messages to her children, and, like the King, forbids them ever to seek revenge for her death. She then alludes to the circumstance "which has been so painful to her heart" — the grief which her son must have caused Madame Elisabeth. She entreats her to remember his age, and to forgive him, reminding her how easy it is to make a child say what is suggested to him, and especially what he does not understand. The Queen then makes her profession of faith as a firm Catholic, expresses hope in the mercy of G-od, and bids an affectionate fare- well to all; adding that if one of the schismatic priests who had taken the constitutional oath should be brought to her, she would refuse his ministry. 318 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE The Queen intrusted tlie letter to the jailer Bault, but he dared not attempt to send it to Madame Elisabeth, and gave it into the hands of Fouquier- Tinville, the public prosecutor, where it remained. The Queen, after this last effort, lay down on her bed, where Rosalie found her when the jailer sent to offer her nourishment. The two candles had burned low in the cell, and by their dim light Rosalie saw an ofl&cer half asleep in a chair, and the Queen, in her long black dress, lying on the bed weeping bitterly, Rosalie, in deep distress herself, asked in a low voice if she would take anything. The Queen, still weeping, replied : " Oh, my good girl, all is over for me now ! " " Madame," then said Rosalie, in tones of entreaty, "I have some good soup ready. Tou have taken nothing to-day, and you had next to nothing yester- day. Tou require support ; pray let me bring you some soup." " No, no ; I thank you, but I want nothing." The girl turned away ; the Queen, seeing that she was in tears, feared to have grieved her, and with the characteristic kindness which she retained to the last, called her back. " Well, well, Rosalie, you may bring me your soup." Rosalie hastened to fetch it, and the Queen sat up on her bed to try to take it, but could not swallow more than two or three spoonfuls. She then desired Rosalie to return about the break of day to help her to dress. "EKKORS, BUT NOT CEIMES" 319 Meanwhile a " constitutional priest," ^ as they were called, came to offer the Queen his spiritual aid, which she refused. He asked if he should accom- pany her to the place of execution. She replied with indiflference : " As you please." He then said : "Your death will expiate — " " Yes, monsieur," she quickly rejoined, "errors, but not crimes^' 1 A priest -who had taken the forbidden oath, and was consequently ■under interdict from the Church. CHAPTER XXm The last insults — Dress of the Queen when going to the scaffold — The sentence read to her — The executioner ties her hands and outs off her hair — The cart — The last progress through the streets — An American witness — The Tuileries — Scene on the scaffold — The last look of Marie- Antoinette. AT the appointed hour Rosalie came to assist her in jLA. changing her clothes ; for she wished to appear before the people in as proper attire as was within her power. Rosalie had brought a change of Unen, for which the Queen had asked, and unfolded it in readiness as the Queen stooped down behind her bed, desiring Rosalie to stand before her as she un- fastened her gown to draw it down. Immediately the officer on guard came up to the bed, and leaning his elbow on the pillow, looked over to have a better view, staring insolently at the Queen, who blushed deeply, and hastily drew her large muslin kerchief over her shoulders, as, clasping her hands, she said imploringly : " I entreat you, monsieur, in the name of decency, to allow me to change my linen without a witness." "I cannot allow it," said the man roughly; "my orders are to keep eyes upon you constantly, day and night." The Queen sighed deeply, and then quietly knelt down behind Rosalie, MARIE-ANTOINETTE. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT A CO., N. Y., OF THE PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. THE SENTENCE READ TO HER 321 who screened her as best she could, while the unf or- ttinate prisoner, with every care and precaution, changed her clothes. She had received orders not to wear her widow's mourning, "lest the people should insult her in consequence"; but, rather, lest she should awaken too much commiseration, as every one in the prison concluded. The Queen made no remark, and put on the white dress which she always wore in the morning over a black skirt. She wore a plain lawn cap, without the widow's scarf of crape, and fastened black ribbons to her wrists, after having crossed her large white muslin kerchief over her dress. She was now ready for whatever might be ordered, and knelt down in prayer. Rosalie was not allowed to remain, and retired, sobbing as if her heart would break. At ten o'clock the judges came into the cell, where another officer had relieved guard. The Queen rose from her knees to receive the officials, who told her that they came to read to her the sentence. " This is quite useless," said the Queen, in a raised voice ; " I know the sentence only too well." " That does not matter," answered one of those present; " you must hear it again." The Queen made no re- ply, and the sentence was read to her. As this ended the chief executioner — Henri Sanson, a young man of gigantic height — came in carrying a rope. He went up to the Queen, saying: "Hold out your hands." She drew back, seeming greatly agitated. "Are 322 THE STORY OF MABIE-ANTOINETTE you going to tie my hands ? They were not tied in the case of Louis XVI till he reached the scaffold." The judges said to the executioner: "Do your duty." " Oh, mon Dieu ! " cried the Queen. The executioner then seized the beautiful, deli- cate hands and tied them with a rope ^ behind her back. The Queen sighed deeply and looked up to heaven; but although tears were ready to flow, she restrained them. When her hands were thus firmly bound, the executioner took off her cap and cut off her hair. As she felt the touch of the scissors on her neck she started and turned hastily, evidently supposing that she was about to be murdered in the cell; she then saw the executioner folding up her hair, which he put in his pocket. ^ Before she left the cell she said anxiously to the officer now on guard: "Do you think that they will let me reach the place of execution without tearing me to pieces ? " He assured her that she had nothing to fear from the mob, but she seemed anxious as she followed the officials who led her to her doom, scarcely hoping even for the dreadful security of a guarded scaffold ! When she saw the cart awaiting her she again started, and seemed to receive a fresh shock; she had sup- posed that, like the King, she would have the protec- tion of a closed coach. The cart was of a kind seen only in remote country parts at the present day, and 1 " Too tightly," says an eye-witness. 2 It was burned, after the execution, ia the entrance-hall of the prison. THE LAST PROGEESS THEOUGH THE STREETS 323 made of four separate sides rudely tied together, the back part being let down for ingress, with a step- ladder attached. A plank put across the cart served as a seat. The Queen ascended the steps firmly, and prepared to sit facing the horse ; but she was imme- diately told that she must sit backward, looking to- ward the spectators. She turned and took her seat with perfect calmness and a grave, resolute look, gazing straight before her, pale, with red, even blood- shot eyes, but carrying her head high, as was her wont. The executioner and his assistant stood be- hind her, leaning against the sides of the cart. The priest took his place next to her, but she turned away and seemed determined not to speak to him, though he held up a crucifix before her from time to time. She seemed to suffer pain from the ropes round her hands, on which he pressed to relieve the tension ; the ends were held by the executioner, pulling the arms backward. The cart went on slowly, while an immense crowd ^ followed in dead silence till they reached the Eue St. Honors. There they found hos- tile elements, especially the abandoned women who in Paris always play such a prominent part in all popu- lar disturbances. Here there was such a burst of in- sult and execration that the unfortunate Queen might well dread the possibility of falling into such hands. But the cart turned into the Eue Eoyale, and reached the Place de la E6volution, where the scaffold lA young American, Daniel Strobel of Charleston, grandfather to the writer of these pages, was in the crowd before the Conciergerie prison when the Qdeeu came out, and followed closely to the last. 324 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOrNETTE was erected. As the Queen passed before the Tui- leries she turned with an earnest, lingering look. The scaffold was erected facing the garden of the TuUeries, before a statue of Liberty, on the spot where the Obelisk now stands, and not where the King's scaffold had stood, which was on the oppo- site side, but more to the left of the Place, facing the Champs-Elysees. The priest attempted to assist her in alighting, but notwithstanding the increased difiBculty consequent on her tied hands, she turned from him and stepped down firmly, with apparent ease, as quickly as she could, seeming desirous to hasten the end as far as possible. The executioner offered her his aid in ascending the scaffold, but she went up alone and quickly, immediately going to the plank on which she was to be bound. In doing so she trod on the foot of the executioner, who made a motion as of pain. With the kind courtesy which characterized her even in this last hour, she quickly uttered: "Pardon, monsieur!" in a tone of regret and apology. The executioner and his assistant then fastened her to the plank and tore off her mus- lin kerchief, lest it should impede the action of the knife. The last motion of Marie-Antoinette was an involuntary attempt to bring forward her tied hands as a screen for her uncovered shoulders. The executioner held up the head to the popu- lace.^ To the deep awe of the spectators, the face 1 Daniel Strobel always expressed his conviction that, for a short space of time at least, she -was perfectly conscious, as if still alive. THE LAST LOOK OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE 325 of Marie-Antoinette expressed perfect conscious- ness, and the eyes looked on the crowd ! The ex- pression was that of intense astonishment, as of some wonderful vision revealed. All was over; the eventful life was ended. The follies of early youth, the joys of the past, the dread- ful sorrows of the present time, the heroic final atone- ment for what had been "errors, but not crimes" — all was over. All had vanished Uke a dream, save the eternal reward in store for the faith and trust of the Christian — more valuable now than the majesty of the Queen. Eequiescat in pace ! CHAPTER XXIV Sequel — The trial of Madame Elisabeth — Her fortitude at the scaffold — The cruelty practised on the Dauphin — His horri- ble isolation — The pity that was shown too late — -His last words of his mother — Strength of character shown by the suirviving princess, Madame Royale — Sent to Austria in 1795 — Married to her cousin. AFTER the removal of the Queen to the Con- XjL ciergerie, the young Madame Royale remained with her devoted aunt, Madame Elisabeth, who, foreseeing that they would not long be left together, strove in every way to prepare the young girl for the life in store for her. She taught her to require no at- tendance, and regulated her occupations, settling fixed hours for household work, prayer, reading, needle- work, and study. The princesses were now entirely neglected; their food was of the coarsest sort, and they had no assistance of any kind. In vain they entreated for information as to the fate of the Queen. They were kept in complete ignorance of what had befallen her. On May 9, 1794, Madame Elisabeth was taken from the Temple prison to the Oonoiergerie, where, after a short examination, she was sentenced to death. The Princess anxiously iuquired for the M A DAME ELISABETH'S FORTITUDE AT THE SCAITOLD 327 Queen, but received only evasive replies, until the next morning, when, on being led to the fatal cart, she met a group of twenty-three prisoners about to share her fate. All belonged to the highest aris- tocracy, and were consequently well known to Madame Elisabeth. The greater number were ladies. One of these informed the Princess of the fate of the Queen. All went together in the same cart; but Madame Elisabeth was the last on the list, and was consequently required to witness twenty-three exe- cutions before her own death ! To the last she re- mained calm and resolute, encouraging those around her. As the names were called, each prisoner rose and bowed low to Madame Elisabeth, who em- braced all the ladies as, in turn, they passed before her. When this scene of horror had been repeated twenty-three times, "Elisabeth Capet" was called, and with a firm step the daughter of kings walked to the fatal plank, which reeked with the blood of faithful subjects. The knife fell ; the pure and noble life was ended. Once more the royal blood of France flowed on a scaffold ! THE DAUPHIN The fate of the poor child who was the nominal heir to the crown of France was the worst among all the victims who suffered during that frightful social convulsion. No slave, no child of fiction or reality. 328 THE STOKY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE ever had a more pathetic history, or one more har- rowing in its details. The cobbler Simon treated the Dauphin with more cruelty than would be accepted as possible in the case of any tyrant of fiction. Blows, kicks, missiles hurled at his head, insults of all kinds, oaths, were as the daily bread of the poor child so tenderly nurtured in the palace of his fathers! "Capet" was the usual appellation adopted; but others more abusive, such as " Louveteau," * were commonly showered upon him. Simon was fre- quently intoxicated, and when in this state the ill- usage of the child was still more horrible; so that he would probably have lost his life through the insane violence of this tyrant, if the woman Simon had not protected her charge in some degree. The poor little feUow, partly in gratitude for her interference, partly in the hope of propitiation, showed her every attention in his power, with the graceful courtesy which had been so carefully taught to him by his royal mother. The woman Simon her- seH bore witness to this, saying that he was " a most amiable child" who tried his best to please her. " He would run," she says, " to clean cmd Mack my shoes, and every morning he brought my foot- warmer to my bedside before I got up ! " Simon made him do the work of a servant, or rather of a slave ; the smallest mistake, the slight- est defect in the performance of what was required 1 Wolf-pup. HORRIBLE ISOLATION OF THE DAUPHIN 329 of him, was visited on the child by barbarous ill- usage. And yet he was to be reduced to a stiU worse con- dition. After some time Simon and his wife were removed from the prison. The child of eight years was then shut up alone in a cell with a grated, pad-r locked window which could not be opened to renew the air ! He remained there for fifteen months in solitary confinement, his food being pushed through a wicket with a pitcher of water. No one entered the cell, which was never aired or cleaned, and from which nothing was removed. His linen and sheets were never changed during the whole of this time, nor was his person cared for in any manner ! Soon the cell was overrun with rats and mice, while he became a prey to the most loathsome insects, and in conse- quence was covered with sores. The poor chUd fell into a state of torpor, and lay on his pallet without moving, tm he was called to the wicket by the jailers, who threw him his wretched food as to a dog, with abusive words and oaths. He was also roughly called up at night, to show himself at the wicket ; but no one ever went into the den. During the reaction which followed the fall of Eobespierre, the new government sent commissaries who had the feelings of decent humanity, and who entered the cell of "le petit Capet," where the atmosphere was unbearable- When they saw the condition of the wretched child, their feelings of 330 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTB indignation, and even horror, were forcibly ex- pressed. The child was questioned, but he would not answer. One idea seemed alone to survive in his dormant intellect — that he had been induced to say something which had injured his mother. This he probably had gathered from the language of Simon,, and thenceforward he would not speak ; blows could not conquer his resolution. The commissaries drew up a report of the condi- tion in which they had found the little prisoner, and he was promptly given into the hands of kind keepers, by whom he was removed to a large, airy, and cheerful room, with a good bed and clean linen ; he was carefully tended, and was given new clothes. A physician was summoned, but all was too late. The bright and amiable little Dauphin was now de- formed, and almost, if not entirely, an idiot ! Under the influence of kind treatment his intellect seemed in some measure to revive; but all was limited to the one thought — his mother. The jailer took him to the top of the tower, where she had watched so anxiously to see him go by. The poor child, who still refused to speak, bent down and silently gathered a few wild flowers — mere weeds which grew between the stones ! He made them into a little posy, which he dropped before the door of the room that had been hers ! On another occasion he watched the kind face of his jailer, and then, looking back anxiously, crept to the door. The jailer drew him away gently. THE DAUPHIN'S LAST WORDS OP HIS MOTHER 331: "Ohl" he cried, "let me see her! Once — only once!" "My poor child, it cannot be!" said the jailer, much moved. The child threw himself on his bed, and turned to the wall ; from that day his physical condition be- came rapidly worse. Occasionally he murmured: " Mama is in the other tower ! I am all alone ! " Soon it was evident that the end was at hand. On the last day of his life the child said suddenly to his keeper: " Do you hear the beautiful music I " " "What music, Monsieur ? " ^ " Such beautiful music ! Mama is singing ! Oh, I hope that my sister hears the music ! She wiQ be so pleased ! " The jailer raised the child in his arms, and soon he had found his mother. He was then ten years old. He died on the 8th of June, 1795. MADAME EOYALE Fkom the 1st of August, 1793, when the Queen was taken to the Conciergerie, tiU the 9th of May, 1794, Madame Elisabeth, as I have before said, con- tinued her mission of "guardian angel" to the young Princess, whose wonderful fortitude and unvarying prudence of conduct when she remained alone suf- 1 He was called " Monsieur " at this improved period. 332 THE 8T0EY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE ficiently proved to all tlie world how carefully she had been prepared for any event. On the fatal 9th of May her last friend and sup- port was taken from her, and the girl of fifteen was left alone, surrounded by brutal men, without a woman near her, without aid or assistance of any kind. She scrupulously followed the advice and example of the admirable Elisabeth, and regulated her time according to her instructions, keeping her room carefully clean and neat by her own exertions, throwing water on the floor to refresh the air, and punctually walking up and down the room for an hour daily, at a quick pace, in order to supplement deficient exercise. She mended her clothes, and even washed them when necessary cleanliness was deficient. As she says, with uncomplaining simplicity, she was given soap and water, and could keep everything clean ! Madame Royale was thus retained in solitary con- finement for fifteen months — a penalty which strong men find unendurable I But she possessed the peace of a pure conscience, and of the holy meditations taught to her by her saintly guide. The only hu- man beings with whom she was now in contact were the jailers and the municipal guards. She always received them in grave silence, and when questioned answered in as few words as possible, never yielding to any attempt at conversation. MADAME EOYALB 333 Madame Elisabeth, had earnestly exhorted her young niece to manage so as never to be in bed when the visits of inspection were paid; and al- though these visits were of daily occurrence, and took place at all hours of the night, the guards al- ways found her dressed and seated by the side of her bed. She retked to rest only when the visit was over. And thus she remained, alone, without advice, sympathy, or comfort. After the death of her un- fortunate brother, more humane inspectors inter- fered to improve her position. She was given proper clothing; for notwithstanding her care, her clothes could no longer be mended. But the most valuable of the favors now granted to her was the society of a lady named Madame de Chantereine, who was appointed to fill the post of governess- companion to the unfortunate royal prisoner, and who seems to have accomplished her task in a satis- factory manner, for the young Princess became much attached to her. Madame de Tourzel also obtained admittance to the prison, and visited Madame Eoyale, with the dear Pauline of her childhood; the joy of meeting these friends, after the terrible isolation of her life, may be imagined. In December, 1795, the daughter of Marie-An- toinette was sent to her mother's country, in conse- quence of a treaty with Austria. She hastened to join her uncle, the Comte de Provence, now en- 334 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOrNETTE titled Louis XVIII, and was soon married to tlie Due d'Angoulgme, son of the Comte d'Artois, after- ward Charles X. The Princess returned to France at the restoration of the Bourbons; but was again obliged to leave the country by the revolution of 1830. She died at Frohsdorf on October 19, 1851.