Виктория Холт - The Queen`s Confession

Joseph himself had no son, but he would not allow this fact to interfere with his lecture to the King on his duties. And Louis admitted to him that what he longed for more man anything was to have children.

His visit was of the utmost importance, for he extracted from Louis the promise that he would not allow this unsatisfactory state of affairs to continue. Something must be done and Louis would see that it was.

He left at the end of May, having been with us since mid-April.

His parting words to me were that I was too frivolous and featherheaded for him to be able to make much headway with me in conversation; I so deplorably lacked the power of concentration. This was true, I was well aware. Therefore he had written his ‘instructions’ and I was to study them carefully after his departure.

Oddly enough, much as he had irritated me, now that he was going I was filled with sorrow. He was a part of my home and childhood; he had brought back so many memories. He had talked of our mother and brought her closer to me. I wept bitterly to part with him.

He embraced us warmly—both myself and the Ring. And when he had gone, Louis turned to me and said with the utmost tenderness: “During his visit we were together more often and for longer periods. Therefore I owe him a debt of gratitude.”

It was a charming compliment; and there was a new purpose in my husband’s eyes.

When I was alone I read Joseph’s instructions. There were pages of them.

“You are grown up now and no longer can be excused on account of being a child. What will happen to you if you hesitate? Has it ever occurred to you to ask yourself? An unhappy woman is an unhappy Queen. Do you look for opportunities? Do you sincerely respond to the affection the King shows you? Are you cool or distrait when he caresses you? Do you appear bored or disgusted? If so, can it be expected that a man of cold temperament could make advances and love you with passion?”

I thought about this seriously. Was it true? Joseph for all his pomposity was a shrewd observer. Had I betrayed my feelings? For often I did experience these emotions when the King approached me.

Joseph went on to criticise me in the light of his observations.

“Do you ever give way to his wishes and suppress your own? Do you try to convince him that you love him? Do you make any sacrifices for his sake?”

There were pages about my conduct towards my husband, of which he was highly critical. He blamed me for the state of affairs, yet while implying that I was not responsible for my husband’s infirmity, he hinted that it might have been overcome by sympathy and understanding on my part.

My relationships with certain people at Court were a scandal. I had a genius for attaching the wrong kind of people to myself.

“Have you ever troubled to think of the effect which your friendships and intimacies may have upon the public? … Bear in mind that the King never plays games of chance and therefore it is scandalous for you to give such bad customs your patronage…. Then think of the contretemps you have had at the Opera balls. I suggest that of all your amusements that is the most dangerous and unseemly, especially as your escort on these occasions, as you tell me, is your brother-in-law who counts for nothing. What use then is there in going incognito and pretending you are someone else? …”

I smiled. What use, brother Joseph, in your disguises? I could hear his voice, a little pained at the frivolity of the question. My disguise is to prevent people knowing who their benefactor is: yours, to seek wild and dangerous pleasure.

“Do you honestly believe you are not recognised?” Not always, dear brother—no more than you do I “Everyone knows who you are, and when you are masked, people make comments which should not be made in your presence and say things which are not suitable for you to hear…. Why do you wish to rub shoulders with a crowd of libertines? You do not go there simply to dance. Why this un seemliness … The King is left alone at night at Versailles while you mix with the canaille of Paris.” Had I forgotten my mother’s advice? Had she not, ever since I left Vienna, been imploring me to improve my mind? I should take up reading—serious reading, of course. I should read for two hours a day at the very least.

Then he said a strange thing, used a strange word which I was to remember later:

“In truth, I tremble for your happiness because I believe that in the long run things cannot continue as they are now…. The revolution will be a cruel one and perhaps of your own making.”

He did not underline that terrible word. I do it now. It did occur to me then that that was an odd expression, but now I can see the paper clearly and the word seems to jump out of the page . written in red, the colour of blood.

I did try to improve my ways after Joseph had left. I knew he was right; I should not gamble; I should try to be more serious. I even tried reading.

I wrote to my mother that I was following my brother’s good counsels.

“I bear them written on my heart,” I said extravagantly. I did not go to the theatre very often; I went even less to the Opera balls; and I tried to like hunting; in any case I went with my husband on several occasions;

I was always careful to be gracious to the centenarians and the bundles.

I was really trying very hard. So was Louis.

He kept his promise to Joseph, and the little operation was performed.

It was a success. We were delighted. I wrote to my mother:

I have attained the happiness which is of the greatest importance to my whole life. My marriage was thoroughly consummated. Yesterday the attempt was repeated and was even more successful than the first time. I thought at first of sending a special messenger to my beloved mother, but I was afraid this might arouse too much gossip. I don’t think I am with child yet, but I have hopes of becoming so at any moment. “

The change in my husband was great. He was delighted; he behaved like a lover; he wished to be with me all the time;

nor was I eager to avoid him. I kept saying to myself:

Soon my dream will come true. I have now as much chance as any other woman of becoming a mother.

Louis said he must write to my brother, to whom we owed all this.

I hope that next year will not go by without my giving you a nephew or niece. It is to you we owe this happiness. “

The news was going all round the Courts. The aunts insisted that they hear all about it. Adelaide was in a mood of great excitement and she explained everything in detail to her sisters.

Louis had mentioned to Aunt Adelaide in a rush of confidence I find the pleasure very great and I regret that so long a time had passed without my being able to enjoy it. “

The King was excessively cheerful; the Court looked on with interest and made bets as to when there would be proof of the newly-acquired royal virility. Provence and his wife tried to hide their annoyance, but I was aware of it. Artois mischievously tried to provoke Provence, while he made jesting references behind our backs to the King’s newly-acquired prowess.

Our lives were certainly at the mercy of those about us.

There was no privacy. It was noted that I looked tired in the mornings, which provoked titters and furtive observation. Everyone was watchful.

I did not care.

I was longing for the day when I could announce that I was about to become a mother.

Each day I thought of my new hopes. I longed for a sign that I was pregnant. I tried hard to follow Joseph’s instructions and considered what would please my husband. He was equally attentive. At least we both desired the same thing. I dreamed about my own little Dauphin.

When I had him I would ask nothing more of life. My desire for a child was a burning intensity.

That August I gave a fete at Trianon, setting up a fair in the gardens with stalls; I allowed the shopkeepers of Paris to bring their stalls in to the gardens and I myself took on the re1e of limonadiere and was

dressed as a waitress in the most delightful muslin and lace specially created for me by my ever-accommodating Rose Benin. Everyone declared that they had never seen such a limonadiere and they hurried to be served by me. I and my ladies felt it was the greatest fun in the world to serve lemonade.

The King was constantly at my side and everyone noticed how tenderly we behaved towards each other.

All through that year I hoped and dreamed and nothing happened. I began to wonder whether it ever would. I would have little Armand brought to me each morning; he de lighted me for he had grown very affectionate and his great blue eyes would look so mournful when I had to leave him;