I will tell you frankly why I will not interfere in anything. I am
old; I need to rest, and do not care to torment myself. I am not
willing to undertake anything that I cannot be sure of carrying
through to a good end; I have never learned to govern; politics I do
not understand, nor State affairs, and I am much too old now to learn
such difficult things. My son, thanks to God, has capacity enough to
guide things without me; besides, I should excite the jealousy of his
wife, and his eldest daughter, whom he loves better than he does me;
from this, perpetual quarrels would result, and that is something
that would in no wise suit me. I have been much urged and tormented
to use my influence, but I held firm. I said I wished to set a good
example to the wife and daughter of my son. This kingdom has, to its
sorrow, been too long governed by women, young and old. It is time to
let men take the helm. I have therefore adopted the course of meddling
in nothing. In England women can reign; but in France, in order to
have things go well, men must govern. What advantage should I gain
by tormenting myself night and day? I ask for only peace and rest.
All my own nearest ones are dead; for whom, therefore, should I give
myself cares? My life is nearly over; there remains to me only enough
to prepare for a tranquil death, and it is difficult in great public
matters to keep one's conscience peaceful.
I was born at Heidelberg, in September, 1652. When I can by my
influence help those poor people of the Palatinate in the councils
which decide their affairs, I employ it with all my heart. If it
succeeds I am very glad; if it fails I think it is the will of God,
and I am still content.
The king had a better opinion of my brain than it deserves. He wanted
with all his might to make me regent with my son. God be praised it
was not done. I should have gone crazy very quickly.
I have never had Trench manners and I never could assume them; I have
even made it a point of honour to be a German woman, and to preserve
German manners and ways, which are little to the taste of people here.
In the matter of soup, I never eat any but milk soup, or beer or wine
soup; I cannot endure broths; I am made ill at once if there is the
merest little broth in the dishes I eat; my body swells up, I have
colics, and I am forced to be bled; blood puddings[13] and ham settle
my stomach.
The king used to say of me: "Madame cannot endure misalliances; she is
always mocking at them." But all the great ladies who contract such
marriages are well rewarded; they are usually unhappy in wedlock and
ill-treated by their husbands. That is the case of the Princesse de
Deux-Ponts, who married her equerry. She finds herself very badly off,
but I do not pity her; she deserves it. I can't help laughing when
I think how I forewarned her of what would happen. She was with me
at the opera and wanted with all her might to have that equerry sit
behind us. I said, "For the love of God, Madame, let your Highness
keep quiet, and not worry yourself so about Gersdorf; you do not know
this country; when people show such anxiety about their servants it is
always supposed they are in love with them."
"Cannot persons feel an interest in their people?" she asked.
I said, "Yes; and they can take them to the opera, but there is no
need to have them close beside us." I did not know then that I had
guessed true.