I asked why I had not seen her at Court before, for I was certain that had she been there I should have noticed her. She answered frankly that she was too poor to live at Court; nor did she seem to care about this. My dearest Gabrielle (she was always known to others as the Comtesse Jules) was completely without ambition. Was that why I was so taken with her? She did not care for jewels; she did not care for honours; and she was a little lazy, I was to discover, and I found all this enchanting. As she talked to me she made me feel that I was not a Queen but a person, and that she was drawn to me as I was to her.

She was leaving Court shortly, she told me, but I said she must not do so. I would arrange that she stayed in Court. I felt we were going to be friends.

She did not express surprise; in fact it was not easy to persuade her to accept. She did not really believe that she would care for Court life.

But I was determined, and as the Polignacs were perhaps the most ambitious family at Court, they soon prevailed on Gabrielle to accept the honour which I was thrusting upon her.

This was a most important encounter, for it set up a change in my affairs.

I was no longer bored. I wanted Gabrielle to be with me constantly.

She enchanted me; she had a lover, the Comte de Vaudreuil; she told me about him, explaining that all ladies had lovers and their husbands had mistresses. It was the accepted state of affairs.

For ladies of the Court perhaps, but not for the Queen.

Vaudreuil I found to be a rather terrifying character. He was a Creole and, Gabrielle told me, entirely fascinating, although she was afraid of him. I would see how charming were his manners; but his jealous rages were violent. I was to discover that he was extremely ambitious, too.

The Princesse de Lamballe was naturally jealous of my new favourite, and was constantly criticising her, which I fear made me lose patience with her. But I was still fond of her and kept her about me, although I was completely fascinated by my adorable Gabrielle.

The Polignacs had formed themselves into a coterie, and their object was of course to make a nucleus about me; they would use me doubtless for their own ends, but I was too foolish to see this.

Everything I was doing was unwise, of course. My friend ships for women were noticed and commented on. I guessed that reports of these would be carried to my mother, and I was anxious to mention this to her before she did to me.

“Here we have a spate of lampoons,” I told her.

“No one at Court is spared, including myself. They have been generous in my case. They give me many illicit lovers, both male and female.”

My shrewd mother must have been wondering how she could bring pressure on my husband to end this trying situation.

By bestowing the post of equerry on the Comte Jules de Polignac I ensured that Gabrielle could be at Court and near me. I was now caught up in the gaiety of life. There was no more boredom. The Polignac set saw to that. I was mixing with gay young people and I was the gayest of them all. Gabrielle’s apartment was at the head of the marble staircase next to my own and I could see her without ceremony

Without ceremony I That was what I was always seeking I found these people so interesting and unusual. There was the Princesse de Guemenee, who had become governess after Madame de Marsan to the young Princesses. I had been very fond of her for some time; she was quite fascinating; she loved dogs as I did and I always enjoyed visiting her to see them there must have been twenty adorable little creatures who she swore had special powers which helped her to get into touch with the other world. She had left her husband the Prince de Guemenee and her lover was the Due de Coigny.

Coigny was charming, seeming old to me, being about thirty-eight years old; but his manners were exquisite and I was no longer so stupid as to believe that no one over thirty should come to Court. Then there was the Prince de Ligne, a poet, and the Comte d’Esterhazy, a Hungarian whom I felt justified in seeing because my mother had recommended him. There were also the Baron de Besenval and the Comte d’Adhemar, the Due de Lauzan, and Marquis de La Fayette, who was very young, tall and redheaded and whom I christened Blondinet.

All these people congregated in Gabrielle’s apartments and there I went to them to escape the stifling strain of etiquette in the petits appartements.

It was the Princesse de Lamballe who brought Rose Bertin to my notice.

The Duchesse de Chartres also recommended her. She was a grande couturiere with a shop in Rue Saint-Honore and was considered extremely clever.

As soon as she was brought to me she went into ecstasies about my figure, my colouring, my daintiness and natural elegance. All she needed to make her happy was to dress me. She brought with her some of the most exquisite materials I had ever seen in my life, and draped them around me, scarcely asking permission to do so. In fact she was completely lacking in that respect which I was accustomed to receive and she behaved as though dressmaking was of more importance than the Monarchy. I was not so much a Queen as a perfect model for her creations. She made me a gown which I thought the most elegant I had ever had. I told her so and the next day she had ‘discovered’ another material which was created for me; no one else should have it; if I did not, she would throw it aside. She would make up this material for no one but the Queen of France.

I was amused by her. She never waited in the anterooms but came straight in to my apartments. When one of my attendants referred to her as a dressmaker she was shocked.

I am an artist !’ she retorted.

And she was. She fascinated me with her talk of silks and brocades and colours; she came to me regularly with designs, and sometimes I would make a suggestion. If Madame had not been the Queen of Prance she would have been an artist! Now she must be content to show these masterpieces to the world I’ My clothes were becoming more and more elegant. There was no doubt about that. My sisters-in-law tried to copy me. Rose Berth would laugh secretly in my apartments.

“Have they the figures of Aphrodite? Do they walk as though on a cloud? Have they the grace and the charm of an angel?”

They had not, but they were rich enough to be allowed to make use of Rose Benin’s talents.

Between us she and I set the fashion of the Court. Whenever I entered a room everyone waited breathlessly to see what I was wearing. Then they would go to Rose Benin and beg her to copy it.

She chose her clients with care, she told me. This one was too thin, that one too fat, another completely ungainly.

“What do you think, Madame, a merchant’s wife had the impertinence to call at my establishment yesterday. Would I work for her? The arrogance. Although she was a very rich merchant’s wife, I said, ” I have not time to spare to talk to you, Madame. I have an appointment with Her Majesty”.”

It added a new interest to life; and when the bills came in I scarcely looked at the large figures at the bottom of the paper.

I just scrawled “Payes’ on the bottom.

Rose Benin was very contented with me—and I with her.

Oh, the folly of those days I I refused to see what was going on in the world about me. I did not listen when people talked of France’s uneasy relationship with England which might break into war at any moment. I had completely forgotten the guerre des farines. I danced until three or four in the morning, or played cards, and I was beginning to gamble heavily now.

I had done a great deal to abolish etiquette but I had naturally not been completely successful. When I awakened, one of my attendants would bring to my bed an album in which patterns of my dresses had been fixed. As soon as a new dress arrived this would be fixed into the album. My first task on awaking was to decide what I would wear for the whole of the day, and because of that I must have an account of all my engagements perhaps a reception in the morning, neglige for afternoon, and a sumptuous Benin gown for evening. Another attendant would stand by the bed holding a tray of pins, and when I had made my choice I would stick one of these into the elect. When I had made my choice the album would be taken away, the dresses brought out in readiness for when they would be needed.

The ceremony of getting up was tiresome. I thought longingly of the Trianon and determined to spend as much time there as possible. To awake in my own link room. What joy that was! To leap out of bed and look at my gardens which I was having made to my designs. Perhaps to run out with a robe thrown over my night attire. What fun, what joy to feel the dew on the cool grass with my bare feet. That was one of the joys at the Trianon.

How different from Versailles, where etiquette seemed to suffocate me and rob me of my natural vitality.

One winter’s morning my lever was carried to excess. To dress me I must have a lady of honour on one side and a tire woman on the other; and as if this was not enough my first femme de chambre must be in attendance besides two of the lower servants.

It was a lengthy business and on that cold morning I did not relish this. It was the tire-woman’s duty to put on my petticoat and hand me my gown and the lady of honour’s to perform the more intimate tasks of putting on my under clothes and pouring out the water in which I should wash. But when a Princess of the Royal Family was there, the lady of honour must allow her to give me my linen; and this had to be most scrupulously observed, because there might be occasions when two or three Princesses were present and if one usurped the duty of the other, thereby implying she was of higher rank, this would be a major breach of etiquette.