Виктория Холт - The Queen`s Confession

That seemed like a question. I parried it, but I found myself growing lighthearted in his company. It was wonderful to be with someone of my own age with whom I had something in common. Artois laughed at everything, as I wanted to, and I was certain we were going to be friends. Then I danced with young Chartres, the son of the Due d’Orleans, whom I did not like at all. He was gracious but his cold eyes reminded me of a snake. It was my first close contact’ with him, and I wondered whether I had a premonition on that night, and that something warned me that he was going to be our enemy.

These people were so different from my own, and however much they dressed me in French clothes, whatever French manners and customs I adopted, I would always be Austrian. We were unsubtle, more natural, uncultured perhaps; we might seem crude in comparison; we were not witty; but we were easy to understand. We said what we meant and we did not hide our true feelings under a mound of etiquette. Everywhere there was etiquette. I was being suffocated by it. I wanted to scream out that I was tired of it; I wanted to kick it aside, to laugh at it; and to tell them that if they wanted it they could have it, but to leave me out of it.

How could I know that that ball at which I had enjoyed dancing so much with Artois and even with my own awkward husband, was a dismal failure, and that I was blamed for it. My relations had spoilt it.

Little Lorraine was more important than Orleans and Conde because of me. They had been mortally insulted and I should never be forgiven.

They made up their minds on that night that they would be no friends to me, although whenever we met afterwards they gave no sign. But they were not showing affection to me, they were only paying homage to the Dauphine of France. What a little fool I was! And there was no one to help me except Mercy, whom I tried to avoid, and my mother, who was miles away. I was alone and walking blindly into danger, only like everything French it did not seem like danger at this stage; and I did not know that what looked like soft green grass was really a quagmire . not until I was deep in it and could not extricate myself. A clever woman might have found it difficult to act wisely in such a Court. What hope had a frivolous, ignorant young girl?

It was some weeks after my wedding, and in all that time my husband had only spoken a few sentences to me. Whenever I saw the King he was so charming to me that I forgot what Mercy and the aunts had told me.

I believed that he loved me; I even called him Papa, for I said that Grandfather sounded too old for him. There had been so many fetes and balls that I had forgotten my fears. My brother-in-law Artois was constantly in my company; I had paid several visits to the aunts; I had forgotten my previous uneasiness; perhaps I did not want to think of it. It was much more fun to be gay and believe everyone loved me and that I was a great success.

Madame Adelaide was taking me to see the fireworks, and I was going incognito to Paris because my official entry into the capital must, of course, be a ceremonious one. I had so longed to see the fireworks and Adelaide, always ready to enter into a conspiracy, declared she would take me. I thought wistfully that my husband might have taken me. What fun it would have been if he were as gay as Artois and we had disguised ourselves and driven there together. But he was either hunting or with the locksmith; the King was at Bellevue with Madame du Barry;, and so why should I not go, said Adelaide; and we set off in her carriage.

She seemed less strange when her sisters were not present. I believed she imagined she must appear stranger than she actually was in order to impress them and keep her supremacy over them; and she was very friendly as we rode along together towards Paris.

It was a great function, she told me. She had been informed of all that was being done to honour me. All along the Champs-Elysees, the trees were decorated with lamps which would be delightful when it was dusk. The centre of activities would be the Place Louis XV, where a Corinthian temple had been erected close to the King’s statue and there were also figures of dolphins and a great picture of myself and the Dauphin in a medallion. Bergamot had been poured on the banks of the Seine to disguise the foul odours which sometimes arose from that river, and the fountains were flowing with wine.

“All in your honour, my dear, and that of your husband.” Then I should certainly be there to see it,” I replied.

“But unrecognised She laughed that odd braying laugh.

“It would not be in accordance with etiquette for the people to see me before I am formally introduced to them.”

“It would certainly not be. So tonight we are two noblewomen come to see the people enjoy themselves.”

As we came nearer to the city, the sky was suddenly illuminated with fireworks, for it was not dark. I exclaimed in wonder, for I had never seen such a beautiful display. We were almost at the Place Louis XV—which I did not know then—when our escort stopped abruptly. Our carriage pulled up with a jerk. I was aware of screams and shouting; I vaguely saw a mass of people and I had no idea what this meant. The driver turned our carriage; and, the bodyguard surrounding us, we started back with great speed the way we had come.

“What is it?” I asked.

Madame Adelaide did not answer. She was frightened and she did not say a word as we raced back to Versailles.

The next day I learned what had happened. Some of the fireworks had exploded and started a fire; a fireman’s cart coming into the square met a crowd of people and carriages hurrying from the fire; another crowd was rushing into the square to see what was happening; nothing could move; the congestion was complete. Forty thousand people were held up in the Rue Royale, the Rue de la Bonne-Morue and the Rue Saint-Florenrin.

There was a panic. Many people fell and were trampled on; carriages toppled over; horses tried to break free. People were climbing over the bodies of those who had fallen in a vain endeavour to escape, and many were trampled to death: There were terrible stories of that night.

Everyone was talking about the disaster. The Dauphin came into our bedchamber; he was deeply shocked and this made him seem older, more alive. He told me that one hundred and thirty-two people had been killed on the previous night.

I felt the tears in my eyes and he looked at me and did not turn away quickly as he always had before.

“It’s my fault,” I said.

“If I hadn’t come here it would not have happened.”

He continued to look at me.

“I must do what I can to help,” he said.

“Oh yes,” I answered fervently.

“Please do.”

He sat down at a table and began to write and I went and looked over his shoulder.

“I have learned of the disaster,” he wrote, and I noticed how swiftly his pen glided over the paper, ‘which came to Paris on my account. I am deeply distressed and I send you the sum which the King gives me each month for my private expenses. It is all I have to give.

I want it to help those who have been most badly hurt. “

He lifted his eyes to my face and touched my hand—just for a moment.

“It is the least I can do,” he said. I should like to give what I have,” I told him. He nodded and looked down at the table. I knew then that he did not really dislike me. There was some other reason why he neglected me.

The disaster was talked of long afterwards. It was another of those omens. There was the storm which had spoilt the wedding-day celebrations; the blot I had made when signing my name; and then this great calamity when the people of Paris had come in their thousands to celebrate the wedding and had met death and disaster.

Choisy’

“Madame, my very dear Mother, ” I cannot express how much I am affected by Your Majesty’s kindness and I assure you 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 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.