THE DINNER EN FAMILLE.
Meanwhile the king and the emperor reached the apartment which opened
into the private dining-room of the royal family. The princes with their
wives were already there; but Marie Antoinette always came at the last
moment. She dreaded the sarcasm of the Count de Provence, and the sullen
or contemptuous glances of the king. She would have given much to return
to the old stiff, public ceremonial which she had banished, but that she
could not do. It would have been too great a concession to the court.
Her only refuge was to stay away as long as decorum allowed, and after
the emperor's arrival she never entered the room until he had been
announced.
To-day she was even later than usual; and the king, who like other
mortals, was hungry after his walk, began to grow sulky at the delay.
When at last she entered the room, he scarcely vouchsafed her an
inclination of the head as he rose to conduct her to the table. The
queen seemed not to perceive the omission. She gave him her hand with a
sweet smile, and despite his ill-humor, Louis could not suppress a throb
as he saw how brilliantly beautiful she was.
"You have made us wait, madame," said he, "but your appearance to-day
repays us for your tardiness."
The queen smiled again, for well she knew that she was bewitchingly
dressed, and that the new coiffure which Leonard had contrived, was
really becoming, and would heighten her charms by contrast with the
hideout towers that were heaped, like Pelion upon Ossa, over the heads
of the princesses.
"I hope that your majesty will forgive me for being late," said she,
secure in the power of her fascinations. "My little Jacques is to blame.
He is sick to-day, and would have no one to put him to sleep but
myself."
"Your majesty should feel flattered," cried the Count de Provence. "You
are expected to put off your dinner until a little peasant is pleased to
go to sleep."
"Pardon me, your highness," said the queen, coloring, "Jacques is no
longer a peasant--he is my child."
"The dauphin, perchance, which your majesty promised not long since to
the dames de la halle?" answered the king's brother.
The queen blushed so deeply that the flush of her shame overspread her
whole face and neck; but instead of retorting, she turned to address her
brother.
"You have not a word of greeting for me, Joseph?"
"My dear sister," said the emperor, "I am speechless with admiration at
your coiffure. Where did you get such a wilderness of flowers and
feathers?"
"They are the work of Leonard."
"Who is Leonard?"
"What!" interrupted the Countess d'Artois, "your majesty does not know
who Leonard is--Leonard the queen's hair dresser--Leonard the autocrat
of fashion? He it is who imagined our lovely sister's coiffure, and
certainly these feathers are superb!"
"Beautiful indeed!" cried the Countess de Provence, with an appearance
of ecstasy.
"Are these the costly feathers which I heard your majesty admiring in
the hat of the Duke de Lauzun?" asked the Count de Provence, pointedly.
"That is a curious question," remarked the king. "How should the
feathers of the Duke de Lauzun be transported to the head of the queen?"
"Sire, I was by, when De Guemenee on the part of De Lauzun, requested
the queen's acceptance of the feathers."
"And the queen?" said Louis, with irritation.
"I accepted the gift, sire," replied Marie Antoinette, calmly. "The
offer was not altogether in accordance with court-etiquette, but no
disrespect was intended, and I could not inflict upon Monsieur de Lauzun
the humiliation of a refusal. The Count de Provence, however, can spare
himself further anxiety in the matter, as the feathers that I wear
to-day are those which were lately presented to me by my sister, the
Queen of Naples."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the emperor, "I was not aware that Caroline gave
presents, although I know that she frequently accepts them from her
courtiers."
"The etiquette at Naples differs then from that of Paris," remarked the
king. "No subject has the right to offer a gift to the Queen of France."
"Heaven be praised!" cried the Count de Provence, "nobody here pays any
attention to court-customs! Since Madame de Noailles gave in her
resignation we have been free to do all things. This inestimable freedom
we owe to our lovely sister-in-law; who, in defiance of all prejudice,
has had boldness enough to burst the fetters which for so many hundred
years bad impeded the actions of the Queens of France."
At that moment the first lady of honor, on bended knee, presented the
queen her soup, and this relieved Marie Antoinette from the painful
embarrassment which this equivocal compliment occasioned. But the
emperor interposed.
"You have reason to be thankful to my sister that she has had the
independence to attack these absurdities," said Joseph, warmly. "But
pardon me if I ask if etiquette at Versailles approves of the conversion
of the corridors, galleries, and staircases of the palace into booths
for the accommodation of shopkeepers and tradesmen." [Footnote: This
custom was subsequently abolished by Marie Antoinette, and the lower
classes never forgave her for withdrawing this extraordinary privilege
from the hucksters of Palls.]
"It is an old privilege which custom has sanctioned," returned the king,
smiling.
"But which violates the sanctity of the king's residence," objected the
emperor. "The Saviour who drove the money-changers from the temple,
would certainly expel these traders, were he to appear on earth to-day."
This observation was received in sullen silence. The royal family looked
annoyed, but busied themselves with their knives and forks. A most
unpleasant pause ensued, which was broken by the queen, who turning to
her brother, asked him what he had seen to interest him since his
arrival in Paris.
"You well know," said he, "that Paris abounds in interesting
institutions. Yesterday I was filled with enthusiasm with what I saw in
the course of my morning ramble."
"Whither did you go, count?" asked Louis, appeased and flattered by the
emperor's words.
"To the Invalides; and I confess to you that the sight of this noble
asylum filled me with as much envy as admiration. I have nothing in
Vienna that will bear comparison with this magnificent offering of
France to her valiant defenders. You must feel your heart stir with
pride whenever you visit those crippled heroes, sire."
"I have never visited the Invalides," said the king, coloring.
"What?" cried Joseph, raising his hands in astonishment, "the King of
France has never visited the men who have suffered in his behalf! Sire,
if you have neglected this sacred duty, you should hasten to repair the
omission."
"What else did you see?" asked the queen, striving to cover the king's
displeasure, and the contemptuous by-play of the Count de Provence.
"I visited the Foundling Hospital. To you, Antoinette, this hospital
must possess especial interest."
"Oh, yes. I subscribe yearly to it from my private purse," said the
Queen.
"But surely you sometimes visit the pious sisters upon whom devolves the
real burden of this charity, to reward them by your sympathy for their
disinterested labors?"
"No, I have never been there," replied the queen, confused. "It is not
allowed to the Queens of France to visit public benevolent
institutions."
"And yet it is allowable for them to attend public balls at the
opera-house!"
Marie Antoinette blushed and looked displeased. This sally of the
emperor was followed by another blank pause, which finally was broken by
himself.
"I also visited another noble institution," continued he, "that of the
deaf mutes. The Abbe de l'Epee deserves the homage of the world for this
monument of individual charity; for I have been told that his
institution has never yet received assistance from the crown. My dear
sister, I venture to ask alms of you for his unfortunate proteges. With
what strength of love has he explored the dark recesses of their minds,
to bear within the light of intelligence and cultivation! Think how he
has rescued them from a joyless stupor, to place them by the side of
thinking, reasoning and happy human beings! As soon as I return to
Vienna, I shall found an institution for the deaf and dumb; I have
already arranged with the abbe to impart his system to a person who
shall be sent to conduct the asylum I propose to endow."
"I am happy to think that you meet with so many things in France worthy
of your approval, count," remarked the king.
"Paris, sire," said Joseph, "is rich in treasures of whose existence you
are scarcely aware."
"What are these treasures, then? Enlighten me, count."
"They are the magnificent works of art, sire, which are lying like
rubbish in your royal store-houses in Paris. Luckily, as I have been
told, etiquette requires that the pictures in your palaces should, from
time to time, be exchanged, and thus these masterpieces are sometimes
brought to view. In this matter, I acknowledge that etiquette is
wisdom." [Footnote: The emperor's words. Campan, vol. i., p. 178]
"Etiquette," replied Louis, "is often the only defence which kings can
place between themselves and importunate wisdom."
"Wisdom is so hard to find that I should think it impossible for her to
be importunate," returned Joseph. "I met with her yesterday, however, in
another one of your noble institutions--I mean the military school. I
spent three hours there, and I envy you the privilege of visiting it as
often as you feel disposed."
"Your envy is quite inappropriate," replied Louis, sharply, "for I have
never visited the institute at all."
"Impossible!" cried the emperor, warmly. "You are unacquainted with all
that is noblest and greatest in your own capital, sire! It is your duty
as a king to know every thing that concerns the welfare of your
subjects, not only here in Paris, but throughout all France." [Footnote:
The emperor's words. Campan, vol. i., p. 79.]
"I disagree with you, and I am of opinion that wisdom is often
exceedingly offensive," replied the king, frowning, as with a stiff bow,
he rose from the table.
Marie Antoinette looked anxiously at Joseph to see the effects of her
husband's impoliteness; but the emperor looked perfectly unconscious,
and began to discuss the subject of painting with the Count d'Artois.
The queen retired to her cabinet, heartily rejoicing that the diner en
famille had come to an end: and almost ready to order that the royal
meals should be served in the state dining-room, and the people of Paris
invited to resume their old custom of coming to stare at the royal
family!
She sat down to her escritoire, to work with her treasurer and private
secretary; that is, to sign all the papers that he placed before her for
that purpose.
The door opened and the emperor entered the room. The queen would have
risen, but he prevented her, and begged that he might not feel himself
to be an intruder.
"I came, dear sister," said he, "to ask you to accompany me to the
theatre to-night. Meanwhile it will give me great pleasure to see you
usefully employed."
So the queen went on signing papers, not one of which she examined. The
emperor watched her for a time in astonished silence; finally he came up
to the escritoire.
"Sister," said he, "I think it very strange that you put your name to so
many documents without ever looking at their contents."
"Why strange, brother?" asked the queen, opening her large eyes in
wonder.
"Because it is a culpable omission, Antoinette. You should not so
lightly throw away your royal signature. The name of a sovereign should
never be signed without deliberation; much less blindly, as you are
signing yours at present." [Footnote: The emperor's own words.]
Marie Antoinette colored with vexation at this reproof in presence of
one of her own subjects. "Brother," replied she hastily, "I admire the
facility with which you generalize on the subject of other people's
derelictions. Unhappily, your homilies are sometimes misapplied. My
secretary, Monsieur d'Augeard, has my full confidence; and these papers
are merely the quarterly accounts of my household expenditures. They
have already been approved by the auditor, and you perceive that I risk
nothing by affixing my signature."
"I perceive further," replied Joseph, smiling, "that you are of one mind
with your husband, and find wisdom sometimes very offensive. Forgive me
if in my over-anxiety I have hurt you, dear sister. Let us be friends;
for indeed, my poor Antoinette, you are sorely in need of friends at
this court."
The queen dismissed her secretary, and then came forward and took her
brother's hand. "You have discovered then," said she, "that I am
surrounded by enemies?"
"I have indeed; and I tremble for your safety. Your foes are powerful,
and you--you are not sufficiently cautious, Antoinette."
"What is it in me that they find to blame!" exclaimed she, her beautiful
eyes filling with tears.
"Some other day, we must talk of this together. I see that you are
threatened; but as yet, I neither understand the cause of your danger
nor its remedy. As soon as I shall have unravelled the mystery of your
position, I will seek an interview with you; and then, dear sister, we
must forget that we are sovereigns, and remember but one thing--the ties
that have bound us together since first we loved each ether as children
of one father and mother."
Marie Antoinette laid her head upon her brother's bosom and wept. "Oh,
that we were children again in the gardens of Schonbrunn!" sobbed she;
"for there at least we were innocent and happy!"