Marie Antoinette wishes to see Paris.--Intrigues of Madame Adelaide.--
Characters of the Dauphin and the Count de Provence.--Grand Review at
Fontainebleau.--Marie Antoinette ill the Hunting Field.--Letter from her
to the Empress.--Mischievous Influence of the Dauphin's Aunts on her
Character.--Letter of Marie Antoinette to the Empress.--Her Affection for
her Old House.--The Princes are recalled from Exile.--Lord Stormont.--
Great Fire at the Hôtel-Dieu.--Liberality and Charity of Marie
Antoinette.--She goes to the Bal d'Opéra.---Her Feelings about the
Partition of Poland.--The King discusses Politics with her, and thinks
highly of her Ability.
It was a curious proof of the mischievousness as well as of the extent of
the influence which Madame Adelaide and her sister were able to exert over
the indolence and apathy of their father, that when Marie Antoinette had
for more than two years been married and living within twelve miles of
Paris, she had never yet seen it by daylight, although the universal and
natural expectation of the citizens had been that the royal pair would pay
the city a state visit immediately after their marriage. Her own wishes
had not been consulted in the matter; for she was naturally anxious to see
the beautiful city of which she had heard so much; and the delay which had
taken place was equally at variance with Madame de Noailles' notions of
propriety. But when the countess suggested a plan for visiting the capital
_incognito_, proposing that the dauphiness should drive as far as the
entrance to the suburbs, and then, having sent on her saddle-horses,
should ride along the boulevards, Madame Adelaide, professing a desire to
join the party, raised so many difficulties on the subject of the retinue
which was to follow, and was so successful in creating jealousies between
her own ladies and those in attendance on Marie Antoinette, that Madame de
Noailles was forced to recommend the abandonment of the project. Mercy was
far more annoyed than his young mistress; he saw that the secret object of
Madame Adelaide was to throw as many hindrance as possible in the way of
the dauphiness winning popularity by appearing in public, while he also
correctly judged hat it would be consistent both with propriety and with
her interest, as the future queen of the country, rather to seek and even
make opportunities for enabling the people to become acquainted with her.
But to Marie Antoinette any disappointment of that kind was a very
trifling matter. She had vexations which, as she told the embassador, she
could not explain even to him; and they kept alive in her a feeling of
homesickness which, in all persons of amiable and affectionate
disposition, must require some, time to subdue. Even when her brother, the
Archduke Ferdinand, had quit Vienna in the preceding autumn to enter on
the honorable post of Governor of Lombardy, she had not congratulated, but
condoled with him, "feeling by her own experience how much it costs to be
separated from one's family." And what she had found in her own home did
not as yet make up to her for all she had left behind. Even her husband,
though uniformly kind in language and behavior, was of a singularly cold
and undemonstrative disposition; and it almost seemed as if the gayety
which he exhibited at her balls were an effort so foreign to his nature
that he indemnified himself by unpardonable boorishness on other
occasions. The Count de Provence had but little more polish, and a far
worse temper. Squabbles often took place between the two brothers. Though
both married men, they were still in age only boys; and on more than one
occasion they proceeded to acts of personal violence to each other in her
presence. Luckily no one else was by, and she was able to pacify and
reconcile them; but she could hardly avoid feeling ashamed of having been
called on to exert herself in such a cause, or contrasting the undignified
boisterousness (to give it no worse name) of such scenes with the decorous
self-respect which, with all their simplicity of character, had always
governed the conduct of her own relations.
Not but that, in the opinion of Mercy,[1] the dauphin was endowed by
nature with a more than ordinary share of good qualities. His faults were
only such as proceeded from an excessively bad education. He had many most
essential virtues. He was a young man of perfect integrity and
straightforwardness; he was desirous to hear the truth; and it was never
necessary to beat about the bush, or to have recourse to roundabout ways
of bringing it before him. On the contrary, to speak to him with perfect
frankness was the surest way both to win his esteem and to convince his
reason. On one or two occasions in which he had consulted the embassador,
Mercy had expressed his opinions without the least reserve, and had
perceived that the young prince had liked him better for his candor.
The king still kept up the habit of spending the greater part of the
autumn at Compiègne and Fontainebleau, visits which Marie Antoinette
welcomed as a holiday from the etiquette of Versailles. She wrote word to
her mother that she was growing very fast, and taking asses' milk to keep
up her strength; that that regimen, with constant exercise, was doing her
great good; and that she had gained great praise for the excellence of her
riding. On one occasion, when they were at Fontainebleau, she especially
delighted the officers of her husband's regiment of cuirassiers, when the
king reviewed it in person. The dauphin himself took the command of his
men, and put them through their evolutions while she rode by his side; he
then presented each of the officers to her separately, and she distributed
cockades to the whole body. The first she gave to the dauphin himself,[2]
who placed it in his hat. Each officer, as he received his, did the same.
And after the king had taken his departure, she, with her husband,
remained on the field for an hour, conversing freely with the soldiers,
and showing the greatest interest in all that concerned the regiment.
Throughout the day the young prince had exhibited a knowledge of the
profession, and a readiness as well as an ease of manner, which had
surprised all the spectators, and Mercy had the satisfaction of hearing
every one attribute the admirable appearance which he had made on so
important an occasion (for it was the first time of his appearing in such
a position) to the example and hints of the dauphiness.
It was scarcely less of a public appearance, while it was one in which the
king himself probably took more interest, when, a few days afterward, on
the occasion of a grand stag-hunt in the forest, she joined in the chase
in a hunting uniform of her own devising. The king was so delighted that
he scarcely left her side, and extolled her taste in dress, as well as her
skill in horsemanship, to all whom he honored with his conversation. But
the empress was not quite so well pleased. Her disapproval of horse
exercise for young married women was as strong as ever. She had also
interpreted some of her daughter's submissive replies to her admonitions
on the subject as a promise that she would not ride, and she scolded her
severely (no weaker word can express the asperity of her language) for
neglect of her engagement, as well as for the risk of accidents which are
incurred by those who follow the hounds, and some of which, as she heard,
had befallen the dauphiness herself. Her daughter's explanation was as
frank as it deserved to be accounted sufficient, while her letter is
interesting also, as showing her constant eagerness to exculpate herself
from the charge of indifference to her German countrymen, an eagerness
which proves how firmly she believed the notion to be fixed in the
empress's mind.
"I expect, my dear mamma, that people must have told you more about my
rides than there really was to be told. I will tell you the exact truth.
The king and the dauphin both like to see me on horseback. I only say this
because all the world perceives it, and especially while we were absent
from Versailles they were delighted to see me in my riding-habit. But,
though I own it was no great effort for me to conform myself to their
desires, I can assure you that I never once let myself he carried away by
too much eagerness to keep close to the hounds; and I hope that, in spite
of all my giddiness, I shall always allow myself to be restrained by the
experienced hunters who constantly accompany me, and I shall never thrust
myself into the crowd. I should never have supposed any one could have
reported to you as an accident what happened to me in Fontainebleau. Every
now and then one finds in the forest large stepping stones; and as we were
going on very gently my horse stumbled on one covered with sand, which he
did not see; but I easily held him up, and we went on.... Esterhazy was at
our ball yesterday. Every one was greatly pleased with his dignified
manner and with his style of dancing. I ought to have spoken to him when
he was presented to me, and my silence only proceeded from embarrassment,
as I did not know him. It would be doing me great injustice to think that
I have any feeling of indifference to my country; I have more reason than
any one to feel, every day of my life, the value of the blood which flows
in my veins, and it is only from prudence that at times I abstain from
showing how proud I am of it.... I never neglect any mode of paying
attention to the king, and of anticipating his wishes as far as I can. I
hope that he is pleased with me. It is my duty to please him, my duty and
also my glory, if by such means I can contribute to maintain the alliance
of the two houses....[3]"
The empress was but half pacified about the riding and hunting. She owned
that, if both the king and the dauphin approved of it, she had nothing
more to say, though she still blamed the dauphiness for forgetting a
promise which she understood to have been made to herself. At the same
time, no language could be kinder than that in which she asked "whether
her daughter could believe that she would wish to deprive her of so
innocent a pleasure, she who would give her very life to procure her one,
if she were not apprehensive of mischievous consequences;" her
apprehensions being solely dictated by her anxiety to see her daughter
bear an heir to the throne. But she would by no means admit her excuses
for giving the Hungarian prince a cold reception. "How," she said, "could
she forget that her little Antoinette, when not above twelve or thirteen
years old, knew how to receive people publicly, and say something polite
and gracious to every one, and how could she suppose that the same
daughter, now that she was dauphiness, could feel embarrassment?
Embarrassment was a mere chimera."
But the truth was that it was not a mere chimera. Mercy had more than once
deplored, as one among the mischievous effects of Madame Adelaide's
constant interference and domineering influence, that it had bred in Marie
Antoinette a timidity which was wholly foreign to her nature. And indeed
it was hardly possible for one still so young to be aware that she was
surrounded by unfriendly intriguers and spies, and to preserve that
uniform presence of mind which her rank and position made so desirable for
her, and which was in truth so natural to her that she at once recovered
it the moment that her circumstances changed.
And a probability of an early change was already apparent. During the last
months of 1772 there was a general idea that the king's health and mental
faculties were both giving away; and all the different parties about
Versailles began to show their sense of her approaching authority. It was
remarked that both the ministers and the mistress had become very guarded
in their language, and in their behavior to her and her husband. The Count
de Provence took a curious way of showing his expectation of a change, by
delivering her a long paper of counsels for her guidance, the chief object
of which was to warn her against holding such frequent conversations with
Mercy. She apparently thought that the writer's desire was to remove the
embassador from her confidence that he himself might occupy the vacant
place, and she showed her opinion of the value of the advice by reading it
to Mercy and then putting it into the fire.
Some extracts from the first letter which she wrote to her mother in 1773
will serve to give us a fair idea of her feelings at this time, both from
what it does and from what it does not mention. The intelligence which has
reached her about her sister recalls to her mind her own anxiety to become
a mother, her disappointment in this matter being, indeed, one of the most
constant topics of lamentation in the letters of both daughter and mother,
till it was removed by the birth of the princess royal. But that is her
only vexation. In every other respect she seems perfectly contented with
the course which affairs are taking; while we see how thoroughly unspoiled
she is both in the warmth of the affection with which she speaks of her
family and greets the little memorials of home which have been sent her;
and still more in the continuance of her acts of charity, and in her
design that her benevolence should be unknown.
"I hear that the queen[4] is expecting to be confined. I hope her child
will be a son. When shall I be able to say the same of myself? They tell
me, too, that the grand duke[5] and his wife are going into Spain. I
greatly wish that they would conceive a dread of the sea-voyage, and take
this place in their way. The journey would be a little longer; but they
would be well received here, for my brother is very highly thought of;
and, besides, I am somewhat jealous at being the only one of my family
unacquainted with my sister-in-law.
"The pictures of my little brothers which you have sent me have given me
great pleasure. I have had them set in a ring, and wear it every day.
Those who have seen my brothers at Vienna pronounce the pictures very
like, and every one thinks them very good-looking. New-year's-day here is
a day of a great crowd and grand ceremony. There was nothing either to
blame or to praise in the degree in which I adopted my dear mamma's
advice. The Favorite came to pay her respects to me at a moment when my
apartment was very full It was impossible for me to address myself to
every one separately, so I spoke to the whole company in a body; and I
have reason to believe that both the Favorite and her sister, who is her
principal adviser, were pleased; though I have also reason to believe
that, two days afterward, M. d'Aiguillon tried to persuade them that they
had been ill-treated. As for the minister himself, he has never complained
of me, and, indeed, I have always been careful to treat him equally well
with the rest of his colleagues.
"You will have learned, my dear mamma, that the Duc d'Orléans and the Duc
de Chartres are returned from banishment. I am glad of it for the sake of
peace, and for that of the tranquillity and comfort of the king. But, if
she had been in the king's place, I do not think my dear mamma would have
accepted the letter which they have dared to write, and which they have
got printed in foreign newspapers.[6]
"I was glad to see M. de Stormont.[7] I asked him all the news about my
dear family, and it was a pleasure to him to inform me. He seems to me to
have overcome his prejudices, and every one here thinks him a man of
thorough high-breeding. I have desired M. de Mercy to invite him to one of
my Monday balls. We are going to have one at, Madame de Noailles'. They
will last till Ash-Wednesday. They will begin an hour or two later than
they used to, that we may not be so tired as we were last year when we
came to Lent In spite of the amusements of the carnival, I am always
faithful to my poor harp, and they say that I make great progress with it.
I sing, too, every week at the concert given by my sister of Provence.
Although there are very few people there, they are very well amused; and
my singing gives great pleasure to my two sisters.[8] I also find time to
read a little. I have begun the 'History of England' by Mr. Hume. It seems
to me very interesting, though it is necessary to recollect that it is a
Protestant who has written it.
"All the newspapers have spoken of the terrible fire at the Hotel-Dieu.[9]
They were obliged to remove the patients into the cathedral and the
archbishop's palace. There are generally from five to six thousand
patients in the hospital. In spite of all the exertions that were made, it
was impossible to prevent the destruction of a great part of the building;
and, though it is now a fortnight since the accident happened, the tire is
still smoldering in the cellars. The archbishop has enjoined a collection
to be made for the sufferers, and I have sent him a thousand crowns. I
said nothing of my having done so to any one, and the compliments which
they have paid me on it have been embarrassing to me; but they have said
it was right to let it be known that I had sent this money, for the sake
of the example."
She was on this, as on many other occasions, one of those who
"Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame."
One of her sayings, with which she more than once repressed the panegyrics
of those who, as it seemed to her, extolled her benevolence too loudly,
was that it was not worth while to say a great deal about giving a little
assistance; and, on this occasion, so secret had she intended to keep her
benevolence that she had not mentioned it to De Vermond, or even to Mercy.
But she judged rightly that the empress would enter into the feelings
which had prompted both the act and also the silence; and she was amply
rewarded by her mother's praise.
"I have been enchanted," the empress wrote, in instant reply, "with the
thousand crowns that you have sent to the Hôtel-Dieu, and you speak very
properly in saying that you have been vexed at people speaking to you
about it. Such actions ought to be known to God alone, and I am certain
that you acted in that spirit. Still, those who published your act had
good reasons for what they did, as you say yourself, thinking of the
influence of your example. My dear little girl, we owe this example to the
world, and to set such is one of the most essential and most delicate
duties of our condition. The more frequently you can perform acts of
benevolence and generosity without crippling your means too much, the
better; and what would be ostentation and prodigality in another is
becoming and necessary for those of our rank. We have no other resources
but those of conferring benefits and showing kindness; and this is even
more the case with a dauphiness or a queen consort, which I myself have
not been."
There could hardly be a better specimen of the principles on which the
empress herself had governed her extensive dominions, or of the value of
her example and instructions to her daughter, than that which is contained
in these few lines; but it is not always that such lessons are so closely
followed as they were by the virtuous and beneficent dauphiness. The
winter passed on cheerfully; the ordinary amusements of the palace being
varied by her going with the dauphin and the Count and Countess of
Provence to one of the public masked balls of the opera-house, a diversion
which, considering the unavoidably mixed character of the company, it is
hard to avoid thinking somewhat unsuited to so august a party, but one
which had been too frequently countenanced by different members of the
royal family for several years for such a visit to cause remarks, though
the masks of the princes and princesses could not long preserve their
secret Another favorite amusement of the court at this time was the
representation of proverbs, in which Marie Antoinette acted with the
little Elizabeth; and we have a special account of one such performance,
which was given in her honor by one of her ladies, having been originally
devised for the Day of Saint Anthony, as her saint's day,[10] though it
was postponed on account of her being confined to her room with a cold.
The proverb was, "Better late than never;" and, as the most acceptable
compliment to the dauphiness, the managers introduced a number of
characters attired in a diversity of costumes, intended to represent the
natives of all the countries ruled over by the Empress-queen, each of whom
made a speech, in which the praises of Maria Teresa and Marie Antoinette
were happily combined.
The king got better, and intrigues of all kinds were revived; but, aided
by Mercy's counsels, and supported by the dauphin's unalterable affection,
Marie Antoinette disconcerted all that were aimed at her by the uniform
prudence of her conduct. Happily for her, with all his defects, her
husband was still one in whom she could feel perfect confidence. As she
told Mercy, under any conceivable circumstances she was sure of his views
and intentions being always right; the only difficulty was to engage him
in a sufficiently decided course of action, which his timid and sluggish
disposition rendered almost painful to him. And just at this moment she
was more anxious than usual to inspire him with her own feelings and
spirit, because she could not avoid fearing that the discontent with which
the few people in France who deserved the name of statesmen regarded the
recent partition of Poland might create a coolness between France and
Austria, calculated to endanger the alliance, the continuance of which was
so indispensable to her happiness, and, as she was firmly convinced, to
the welfare of both countries. She conversed more than once with Mercy on
the subject, and her reflections, both on the partition, and on the degree
in which the mutual interest of the two nations was concerned in their
remaining united, gave him a very good idea of her political capacity. He
also reported to his imperial mistress that he had found out that King
Louis had conceived the same opinion of her, and had begun to discuss
affairs of importance with her. He trusted that his majesty would get a
habit of doing so; since, if his life should be spared, she would thus in
time become able to exert a very useful influence over him; and as, at all
events, "it was absolutely certain that some day or other she would govern
the kingdom, it was of the very greatest consequence to the success of the
great and brilliant career which she had before her that she should
previously accustom herself to regard affairs with such principles and
views as were suitable to the position which she must occupy."