MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE

Being the Historic Memoirs of Madam Campan, First Lady in Waiting to the Queen

CHAPTER I. 

I was fifteen years of age when I was appointed reader to Mesdames. I willbegin by describing the Court at that period. 

Maria Leczinska was just dead; the death of the Dauphin had preceded hersby three years; the Jesuits were suppressed, and piety was to be found atCourt only in the apartments of Mesdames. The Duc de Choiseuil ruled. 

Etiquette still existed at Court with all the forms it had acquired underLouis XIV. ; dignity alone was wanting. As to gaiety, there was none. Versailles was not the place at which to seek for assemblies where Frenchspirit and grace were displayed. The focus of wit and intelligence wasParis. 

The King thought of nothing but the pleasures of the chase: it might havebeen imagined that the courtiers indulged themselves in making epigrams byhearing them say seriously, on those days when the King did not hunt, "TheKing does nothing to-day. "--[In sporting usance (see SOULAIRE, p. 316). ]

The arrangement beforehand of his movements was also a matter of greatimportance with Louis XV. On the first day of the year he noted down inhis almanac the days of departure for Compiegne, Fontainebleau, Choisy, etc. The weightiest matters, the most serious events, never deranged thisdistribution of his time. 

Since the death of the Marquise de Pompadour, the King had no titledmistress; he contented himself with his seraglio in the Parc-aux-Cerfs. Itis well known that the monarch found the separation of Louis de Bourbonfrom the King of France the most animating feature of his royal existence. "They would have it so; they thought it for the best, " was his way ofexpressing himself when the measures of his ministers were unsuccessful. The King delighted to manage the most disgraceful points of his privateexpenses himself; he one day sold to a head clerk in the War Department ahouse in which one of his mistresses had lodged; the contract ran in thename of Louis de Bourbon, and the purchaser himself took in a bag theprice of the house in gold to the King in his private closet. 

[Until recently little was known about the Parc-aux-Cerfs, and it wasbelieved that a great number of young women had been maintained there atenormous expense. The investigations of M. J. A. Le Roi, given in hisinteresting work, "Curiosites Historiques sur Louis XIII. , Louis XIV. , Louis XV. , " etc. , Paris, Plon, 1864, have thrown fresh light upon thematter. The result he arrives at (see page 229 of his work) is that thehouse in question (No. 4 Rue St. Mederic, on the site of theParc-aux-Cerfs, or breeding-place for deer, of Louis XIII) was very small, and could have held only one girl, the woman in charge of her, and aservant. Most of the girls left it only when about to be confined, and itsometimes stood vacant for five or six months. It may have been rentedbefore the date of purchase, and other houses seem sometimes to have beenused also; but in any case, it is evident that both the number of girlsand the expense incurred have been absurdly exaggerated. The systemflourished under Madame de Pompadour, but ceased as soon as Madame duBarry obtained full power over the King, and the house was then sold to M. J. B. Sevin for 16, 000 livres, on 27th May, 1771, Louis not acting underthe name of Louis de Bourbon, but as King, --"Vente par le Roi, notreSire. " In 1755 he had also been declared its purchaser in a similarmanner. Thus, Madame Campan is in error in saying that the King made thecontract as Louis de Bourbon. ]--[And it also possible that Madam Campanwas correct and that the house she refers to as sold for a "bag of gold"was another of the several of the seraglio establishments of Louis XV. D. W. ]

Louis XV. Saw very little of his family. He came every morning by aprivate staircase into the apartment of Madame Adelaide. 

[Louis XV. Seemed to feel for Madame Adelaide the tenderness he had hadfor the Duchesse de Bourgogne, his mother, who perished so suddenly, underthe eyes and almost in the arms of Louis XIV. The birth of MadameAdelaide, 23d March, 1732, was followed by that of Madame Victoire LouiseMarie Therese on the 11th May, 1733. Louis had, besides, six daughters:Mesdames Sophie and Louise, who are mentioned in this chapter; thePrincesses Marie and Felicite, who died young; Madame Henriette died atVersailles in 1752, aged twenty-four; and finally, Madame the Duchess ofParma, who also died at the Court. ]

He often brought and drank there coffee that he had made himself. MadameAdelaide pulled a bell which apprised Madame Victoire of the King's visit;Madame Victoire, on rising to go to her sister's apartment, rang forMadame Sophie, who in her turn rang for Madame Louise. The apartments ofMesdames were of very large dimensions. Madame Louise occupied thefarthest room. This latter lady was deformed and very short; the poorPrincess used to run with all her might to join the daily meeting, but, having a number of rooms to cross, she frequently in spite of her haste, had only just time to embrace her father before he set out for the chase. 

Every evening, at six, Mesdames interrupted my reading to them toaccompany the princes to Louis XV. ; this visit was called the King's'debotter', --[Debotter, meaning the time of unbooting. ]--and was marked bya kind of etiquette. Mesdames put on an enormous hoop, which set out apetticoat ornamented with gold or embroidery; they fastened a long trainround their waists, and concealed the undress of the rest of theirclothing by a long cloak of black taffety which enveloped them up to thechin. The chevaliers d'honneur, the ladies in waiting, the pages, theequerries, and the ushers bearing large flambeaux, accompanied them to theKing. In a moment the whole palace, generally so still, was in motion;the King kissed each Princess on the forehead, and the visit was so shortthat the reading which it interrupted was frequently resumed at the end ofa quarter of an hour; Mesdames returned to their apartments, and untiedthe strings of their petticoats and trains; they resumed their tapestry, and I my book. 

During the summer season the King sometimes came to the residence ofMesdames before the hour of his 'debotter'. One day he found me alone inMadame Victoire's closet, and asked me where 'Coche'[Piggy] was; Istarted, and he repeated his question, but without being at all the moreunderstood. When the King was gone I asked Madame of whom he spoke. Shetold me that it was herself, and very coolly explained to me, that, beingthe fattest of his daughters, the King had given her the familiar name of'Coche'; that he called Madame Adelaide, 'Logue' [Tatters], Madame Sophie, 'Graille'[Mite], and Madame Louise, 'Chiffie'[Rubbish]. The people of theKing's household observed that he knew a great number of such words;possibly he had amused himself with picking them out from dictionaries. If this style of speaking betrayed the habits and tastes of the King, hismanner savoured nothing of such vulgarity; his walk was easy and noble, hehad a dignified carriage of the head, and his aspect, with out beingsevere, was imposing; he combined great politeness with a truly regaldemeanour, and gracefully saluted the humblest woman whom curiosity ledinto his path. 

He was very expert in a number of trifling matters which never occupyattention but when there is a lack of something better to employ it; forinstance, he would knock off the top of an egg-shell at a single stroke ofhis fork; he therefore always ate eggs when he dined in public, and theParisians who came on Sundays to see the King dine, returned home lessstruck with his fine figure than with the dexterity with which he brokehis eggs. 

Repartees of Louis XV. , which marked the keenness of his wit and theelevation of his sentiments, were quoted with pleasure in the assembliesof Versailles. 

This Prince was still beloved; it was wished that a style of life suitableto his age and dignity should at length supersede the errors of the past, and justify the love of his subjects. It was painful to judge himharshly. If he had established avowed mistresses at Court, the uniformdevotion of the Queen was blamed for it. Mesdames were reproached for notseeking to prevent the King's forming an intimacy with some new favourite. Madame Henriette, twin sister of the Duchess of Parma, was much regretted, for she had considerable influence over the King's mind, and it wasremarked that if she had lived she would have been assiduous in findinghim amusements in the bosom of his family, would have followed him in hisshort excursions, and would have done the honours of the 'petits soupers'which he was so fond of giving in his private apartments. 

Mesdames too much neglected the means of pleasing the wing, but the causeof that was obvious in the little attention he had paid them in theiryouth. 

In order to console the people under their sufferings, and to shut theireyes to the real depredations on the treasury, the ministers occasionallypressed the most extravagant measures of reform in the King's household, and even in his personal expenses. 

Cardinal Fleury, who in truth had the merit of reestablishing thefinances, carried this system of economy so far as to obtain from the Kingthe suppression of the household of the four younger Princesses. They werebrought up as mere boarders in a convent eighty leagues distant from theCourt. Saint Cyr would have been more suitable for the reception of theKing's daughters; but probably the Cardinal shared some of thoseprejudices which will always attach to even the most useful institutions, and which, since the death of Louis XIV. , had been raised against thenoble establishment of Madame de Maintenon. Madame Louise often assuredme that at twelve years of age she was not mistress of the whole alphabet, and never learnt to read fluently until after her return to Versailles. 

Madame Victoire attributed certain paroxysms of terror, which she wasnever able to conquer, to the violent alarms she experienced at the Abbeyof Fontevrault, whenever she was sent, by way of penance, to pray alone inthe vault where the sisters were interred. 

A gardener belonging to the abbey died raving mad. His habitation, without the walls, was near a chapel of the abbey, where Mesdames weretaken to repeat the prayers for those in the agonies of death. Theirprayers were more than once interrupted by the shrieks of the dying man. 

When Mesdames, still very young, returned to Court, they enjoyed thefriendship of Monseigneur the Dauphin, and profited by his advice. Theydevoted themselves ardently to study, and gave up almost the whole oftheir time to it; they enabled themselves to write French correctly, andacquired a good knowledge of history. Italian, English, the higherbranches of mathematics, turning and dialing, filled up in successiontheir leisure moments. Madame Adelaide, in particular, had a mostinsatiable desire to learn; she was taught to play upon all instruments, from the horn (will it be believed!) to the Jew's-harp. 

Madame Adelaide was graced for a short time with a charming figure; butnever did beauty so quickly vanish. Madame Victoire was handsome and verygraceful; her address, mien, and smile were in perfect accordance with thegoodness of her heart. Madame Sophie was remarkably ugly; never did Ibehold a person with so unprepossessing an appearance; she walked with thegreatest rapidity; and, in order to recognise the people who placedthemselves along her path without looking at them, she acquired the habitof leering on one side, like a hare. This Princess was so exceedinglydiffident that a person might be with her daily for years together withouthearing her utter a single word. It was asserted, however, that shedisplayed talent, and even amiability, in the society of some favouriteladies. She taught herself a great deal, but she studied alone; thepresence of a reader would have disconcerted her very much. There were, however, occasions on which the Princess, generally so intractable, becameall at once affable and condescending, and manifested the mostcommunicative good-nature; this would happen during a storm; so great washer alarm on such an occasion that she then approached the most humble, and would ask them a thousand obliging questions; a flash of lightningmade her squeeze their hands; a peal of thunder would drive her to embracethem, but with the return of the calm, the Princess resumed her stiffness, her reserve, and her repellent air, and passed all by without taking theslightest notice of any one, until a fresh storm restored to her at onceher dread and her affability. [Which reminds one of the elder (andpuritanic) Cato who said that he "embraced" his wife only when itthundered, but added that he did enjoy a good thunderstorm. D. W. ]

Mesdames found in a beloved brother, whose rare attainments are known toall Frenchmen, a guide in everything wanting to their education. In theiraugust mother, Maria Leczinska, they possessed the noblest example ofevery pious and social virtue; that Princess, by her eminent qualities andher modest dignity, veiled the failings of the King, and while she livedshe preserved in the Court of Louis XV. That decorous and dignified tonewhich alone secures the respect due to power. The Princesses, herdaughters, were worthy of her; and if a few degraded beings did aim theshafts of calumny at them, these shafts dropped harmless, warded off bythe elevation of their sentiments and the purity of their conduct. 

If Mesdames had not tasked themselves with numerous occupations, theywould have been much to be pitied. They loved walking, but could enjoynothing beyond the public gardens of Versailles; they would havecultivated flowers, but could have no others than those in their windows. 

The Marquise de Durfort, since Duchesse de Civrac, afforded to MadameVictoire agreeable society. The Princess spent almost all her eveningswith that lady, and ended by fancying herself domiciled with her. 

Madame de Narbonne had, in a similar way, taken pains to make her intimateacquaintance pleasant to Madame Adelaide. 

Madame Louise had for many years lived in great seclusion; I read to herfive hours a day. My voice frequently betrayed the exhaustion of mylungs; the Princess would then prepare sugared water for me, place it byme, and apologise for making me read so long, on the score of havingprescribed a course of reading for herself. 

One evening, while I was reading, she was informed that M. Bertin, 'ministre des parties casuelles', desired to speak with her; she went outabruptly, returned, resumed her silks and embroidery, and made me resumemy book; when I retired she commanded me to be in her closet the nextmorning at eleven o'clock. When I got there the Princess was gone out; Ilearnt that she had gone at seven in the morning to the Convent of theCarmelites of St. Denis, where she was desirous of taking the veil. I wentto Madame Victoire; there I heard that the King alone had been acquaintedwith Madame Louise's project; that he had kept it faithfully secret, andthat, having long previously opposed her wish, he had only on thepreceding evening sent her his consent; that she had gone alone into theconvent, where she was expected; and that a few minutes afterwards she hadmade her appearance at the grating, to show to the Princesse de Guistel, who had accompanied her to the convent gate, and to her equerry, theKing's order to leave her in the monastery. 

Upon receiving the intelligence of her sister's departure, Madame Adelaidegave way to violent paroxysms of rage, and reproached the King bitterlyfor the secret, which he had thought it his duty to preserve. MadameVictoire missed the society of her favourite sister, but she shed tears insilence only. The first time I saw this excellent Princess after MadameLouise's departure, I threw myself at her feet, kissed her hand, and askedher, with all the confidence of youth, whether she would quit us as MadameLouise had done. She raised me, embraced me; and said, pointing to thelounge upon which she was extended, "Make yourself easy, my dear; I shallnever have Louise's courage. I love the conveniences of life too well;this lounge is my destruction. " As soon as I obtained permission to doso, I went to St. Denis to see my late mistress; she deigned to receive mewith her face uncovered, in her private parlour; she told me she had justleft the wash-house, and that it was her turn that day to attend to thelinen. "I much abused your youthful lungs for two years before theexecution of my project, " added she. "I knew that here I could read nonebut books tending to our salvation, and I wished to review all thehistorians that had interested me. "

She informed me that the King's consent for her to go to St. Denis hadbeen brought to her while I was reading; she prided herself, and withreason, upon having returned to her closet without the slightest mark ofagitation, though she said she felt so keenly that she could scarcelyregain her chair. She added that moralists were right when they said thathappiness does not dwell in palaces; that she had proved it; and that, ifI desired to be happy, she advised me to come and enjoy a retreat in whichthe liveliest imagination might find full exercise in the contemplation ofa better world. I had no palace, no earthly grandeur to sacrifice to God;nothing but the bosom of a united family; and it is precisely there thatthe moralists whom she cited have placed true happiness. I replied that, in private life, the absence of a beloved and cherished daughter would betoo cruelly felt by her family. The Princess said no more on the subject. 

The seclusion of Madame Louise was attributed to various motives; somewere unkind enough to suppose it to have been occasioned by hermortification at being, in point of rank, the last of the Princesses. Ithink I penetrated the true cause. Her aspirations were lofty; she lovedeverything sublime; often while I was reading she would interrupt me toexclaim, "That is beautiful! that is noble!" There was but one brilliantaction that she could perform, --to quit a palace for a cell, and richgarments for a stuff gown. She achieved it!

I saw Madame Louise two or three times more at the grating. I wasinformed of her death by Louis XVI. "My Aunt Louise, " said he to me, "your old mistress, is just dead at St. Denis. I have this momentreceived intelligence of it. Her piety and resignation were admirable, and yet the delirium of my good aunt recalled to her recollection that shewas a princess, for her last words were, 'To paradise, haste, haste, fullspeed. ' No doubt she thought she was again giving orders to her equerry. "

[The retirement of Madame Louise, and her removal from Court, had onlyserved to give her up entirely to the intrigues of the clergy. Shereceived incessant visits from bishops, archbishops, and ambitious priestsof every rank; she prevailed on the King, her father, to grant manyecclesiastical preferments, and probably looked forward to playing animportant part when the King, weary of his licentious course of life, should begin to think of religion. This, perhaps, might have been the casehad not a sudden and unexpected death put an end to his career. Theproject of Madame Louise fell to the ground in consequence of this event. She remained in her convent, whence she continued to solicit favours, as Iknew from the complaints of the Queen, who often said to me, "Here isanother letter from my Aunt Louise. She is certainly the most intriguinglittle Carmelite in the kingdom. " The Court went to visit her about threetimes a year, and I recollect that the Queen, intending to take herdaughter there, ordered me to get a doll dressed like a Carmelite for her, that the young Princess might be accustomed, before she went into theconvent, to the habit of her aunt, the nun. --MADAME CAMPAN]

Madame Victoire, good, sweet-tempered, and affable, lived with the mostamiable simplicity in a society wherein she was much caressed; she wasadored by her household. Without quitting Versailles, without sacrificingher easy chair, she fulfilled the duties of religion with punctuality, gave to the poor all she possessed, and strictly observed Lent and thefasts. The table of Mesdames acquired a reputation for dishes ofabstinence, spread abroad by the assiduous parasites at that of theirmaitre d'hotel. Madame Victoire was not indifferent to good living, butshe had the most religious scruples respecting dishes of which it wasallowable to partake at penitential times. I saw her one day exceedinglytormented by her doubts about a water-fowl, which was often served up toher during Lent. The question to be determined was, whether it was'maigre' or 'gras'. She consulted a bishop, who happened to be of theparty: the prelate immediately assumed the grave attitude of a judge whois about to pronounce sentence. He answered the Princess that, in asimilar case of doubt, it had been resolved that after dressing the birdit should be pricked over a very cold silver dish; if the gravy of theanimal congealed within a quarter of an hour, the creature was to beaccounted flesh; but if the gravy remained in an oily state, it might beeaten without scruple. Madame Victoire immediately made the experiment:the gravy did not congeal; and this was a source of great joy to thePrincess, who was very partial to that sort of game. The abstinence whichso much occupied the attention of Madame Victoire was so disagreeable toher, that she listened with impatience for the midnight hour of HolySaturday; and then she was immediately supplied with a good dish of fowland rice, and sundry other succulent viands. She confessed with suchamiable candour her taste for good cheer and the comforts of life, that itwould have been necessary to be as severe in principle as insensible tothe excellent qualities of the Princess, to consider it a crime in her. 

Madame Adelaide had more mind than Madame Victoire; but she was altogetherdeficient in that kindness which alone creates affection for the great, abrupt manners, a harsh voice, and a short way of speaking, rendering hermore than imposing. She carried the idea of the prerogative of rank to ahigh pitch. One of her chaplains was unlucky enough to say 'Dominusvobiscum' with rather too easy an air; the Princess rated him soundly forit after mass, and told him to remember that he was not a bishop, and notagain to think of officiating in the style of a prelate. 

Mesdames lived quite separate from the King. Since the death of Madame dePompadour he had lived alone. The enemies of the Duc de Choiseul did notknow in what department, nor through what channel, they could prepare andbring about the downfall of the man who stood in their way. The King wasconnected only with women of so low a class that they could not be madeuse of for any delicate intrigue; moreover, the Parc-aux-Cerfs was aseraglio, the beauties of which were often replaced; it was desirable togive the King a mistress who could form a circle, and in whosedrawing-room the long-standing attachment of the King for the Duc deChoiseul might be overcome. It is true that Madame du Barry was selectedfrom a class sufficiently low. Her origin, her education, her habits, andeverything about her bore a character of vulgarity and shamelessness; butby marrying her to a man whose pedigree dated from 1400, it was thoughtscandal would be avoided. The conqueror of Mahon conducted this coarseintrigue. 

[It appeared at this period as if every feeling of dignity was lost. "Fewnoblemen of the French Court, " says a writer of the time, "preservedthemselves from the general corruption. The Marechal de Brissac was oneof the latter. He was bantered on the strictness of his principles ofhonour and honesty; it was thought strange that he should be offended bybeing thought, like so many others, exposed to hymeneal disgrace. LouisXV. , who was present, and laughed at his angry fit, said to him: 'Come, M. De Brissac, don't be angry; 'tis but a trifling evil; takecourage. '--'Sire, ' replied M. De Brissac, 'I possess all kinds of courage, except that which can brave shame. '"--NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Such a mistress was judiciously selected for the diversion of the latteryears of a man weary of grandeur, fatigued with pleasure, and cloyed withvoluptuousness. Neither the wit, the talents, the graces of the Marquisede Pompadour, her beauty, nor even her love for the King, would have hadany further influence over that worn-out being. 

He wanted a Roxalana of familiar gaiety, without any respect for thedignity of the sovereign. Madame du Barry one day so far forgot proprietyas to desire to be present at a Council of State. The King was weakenough to consent to it. There she remained ridiculously perched upon thearm of his chair, playing all sorts of childish monkey tricks, calculatedto please an old sultan. 

Another time she snatched a packet of sealed letters from the King's hand. Among them she had observed one from Comte de Broglie. She told the Kingthat she knew that rascal Broglie spoke ill of her to him, and that foronce, at least, she would make sure he should read nothing respecting her. The King wanted to get the packet again; she resisted, and made him runtwo or three times round the table, which was in the middle of thecouncil-chamber, and then, on passing the fireplace, she threw the lettersinto the grate, where they were consumed. The King became furious; heseized his audacious mistress by the arm, and put her out of the doorwithout speaking to her. Madame du Barry thought herself utterlydisgraced; she returned home, and remained two hours, alone, abandoned tothe utmost distress. The King went to her; she threw herself at his feet, in tears, and he pardoned her. 

Madame la Marechale de Beauvau, the Duchesse de Choiseul, and the Duchessede Grammont had renounced the honour of the King's intimate acquaintancerather than share it with Madame du Barry. But a few years after thedeath of Louis XV. , Madame la Marechale being alone at the Val, a housebelonging to M. De Beauvau, Mademoiselle de Dillon saw the Countess'scalash take shelter in the forest of St. Germain during a violent storm. She invited her in, and the Countess herself related these particulars, which I had from Madame de Beauvau. 

The Comte du Barry, surnamed 'le roue' (the profligate), and Mademoiselledu Barry advised, or rather prompted, Madame du Barry in furtherance ofthe plans of the party of the Marechal de Richelieu and the Ducd'Aiguillon. Sometimes they even set her to act in such a way as to havea useful influence upon great political measures. Under pretence that thepage who accompanied Charles I. In his flight was a Du Barry or Barrymore, they persuaded the Comtesse du Barry to buy in London that fine portraitwhich we now have in the Museum. She had the picture placed in herdrawing-room, and when she saw the King hesitating upon the violentmeasure of breaking up his Parliament, and forming that which was calledthe Maupeou Parliament, she desired him to look at the portrait of a kingwho had given way to his Parliament. 

[The "Memoirs of General Dumouriez, " vol. I. , page 142, contain somecurious particulars about Madame Du Barry; and novel details respectingher will be found at page 243 of "Curiosites Historiques, " by J. A. Le Rol(Paris, Plon, 1864). His investigations lead to the result that her realname was Jean Becu, born, 19th August, 1743, at Vaucouleurs, the naturaldaughter of Anne Becu, otherwise known as "Quantiny. " Her motherafterwards married Nicolas Rancon. Comte Jean du Barry met her among thedemi-monde, and succeeded, about 1767, and by the help of his friendLabel, the valet de chambre of Louis XV. , in introducing her to the Kingunder the name of Mademoiselle l'Ange. To be formally mistress, a husbandhad to be found. The Comte Jean du Barry, already married himself, foundno difficulty in getting his brother, Comte Guillaume, a poor officer ofthe marine troops, to accept the post of husband. In themarriage-contract, signed on 23d July, 1768, she was described as thedaughter of Anne Becu and of an imaginary first husband, Sieur JeanJacques Gomard de Vaubernier, " and three years were taken off her age. The marriage-contract was so drawn as to leave Madame du Barry entirelyfree from all control by her husband. The marriage was solemnised on 1stSeptember, 1768, after which the nominal husband returned to Toulouse. Madame du Barry in later years provided for him; and in 1772, tired of hisapplications, she obtained an act of separation from him. He marriedlater Jeanne Madeleine Lemoine, and died in 1811. Madame du Barry tookcare of her mother, who figured as Madame de Montrable. In all, shereceived from the King, M. Le Roi calculates, about twelve and a halfmillions of livres. On the death of Louis XV. She had to retire first tothe Abbey of Pont-aux-Dames, near Meaux, then she was allowed to go to hersmall house at St. Vrain, near Arpajon, and, finally, in 1775, to herchateau at Louveciennes. Much to her credit be it said, she retained manyof her friends, and was on the most intimate terms till his death with theDuc de Brissac (Louis Hercule Timoldon de Cosse-Brissac), who was killedat Versailles in the massacre of the prisoners in September, 1792, leavingat his death a large legacy to her. Even the Emperor Joseph visited her. In 1791 many of her jewels were stolen and taken to England. This causedher to make several visits to that country, where she gained her suit. But these visits, though she took every precaution to legalise them, ruined her. Betrayed by her servants, among them by Zamor, the negropage, she was brought before the Revolutionary tribunal, and wasguillotined on 8th December, 1793, in a frenzy of terror, calling formercy and for delay up to the moment when her head fell. ]

The men of ambition who were labouring to overthrow the Duc de Choiseulstrengthened themselves by their concentration at the house of thefavourite, and succeeded in their project. The bigots, who never forgavethat minister the suppression of the Jesuits, and who had always beenhostile to a treaty of alliance with Austria, influenced the minds ofMesdames. The Duc de La Vauguyon, the young Dauphin's governor, infectedthem with the same prejudices. 

Such was the state of the public mind when the young Archduchess MarieAntoinette arrived at the Court of Versailles, just at the moment when theparty which brought her there was about to be overthrown. 

Madame Adelaide openly avowed her dislike to a princess of the House ofAustria; and when M. Campan, my father-in-law, went to receive his orders, at the moment of setting off with the household of the Dauphiness, to goand receive the Archduchess upon the frontiers, she said she disapprovedof the marriage of her nephew with an archduchess; and that, if she hadthe direction of the matter, she would not send for an Austrian. 

CHAPTER II. 

MARIE ANTOINETTE JOSEPHE JEANNE DE LORRAINE, Archduchess of Austria, daughter of Francois de Lorraine and of Maria Theresa, was born on the 2dof November, 1755, the day of the earthquake at Lisbon; and thiscatastrophe, which appeared to stamp the era of her birth with a fatalmark, without forming a motive for superstitious fear with the Princess, nevertheless made an impression upon her mind. As the Empress already hada great number of daughters, she ardently desired to have another son, andplayfully wagered against her wish with the Duc de Tarouka, who hadinsisted that she would give birth to an archduke. He lost by the birthof the Princess, and had executed in porcelain a figure with one knee benton the earth, and presenting tablets, upon which the following lines byMetastasio were engraved:

I lose by your fair daughter's birthWho prophesied a son;But if she share her mother's worth, Why, all the world has won!

The Queen was fond of talking of the first years of her youth. Herfather, the Emperor Francis, had made a deep impression upon her heart;she lost him when she was scarcely seven years old. One of thosecircumstances which fix themselves strongly in the memories of childrenfrequently recalled his last caresses to her. The Emperor was setting outfor Innspruck; he had already left his palace, when he ordered a gentlemanto fetch the Archduchess Marie Antoinette, and bring her to his carriage. When she came, he stretched out his arms to receive her, and said, afterhaving pressed her to his bosom, "I wanted to embrace this child oncemore. " The Emperor died suddenly during the journey, and never saw hisbeloved daughter again. 

The Queen often spoke of her mother, and with profound respect, but shebased all her schemes for the education of her children on the essentialswhich had been neglected in her own. Maria Theresa, who inspired awe byher great qualities, taught the Archduchesses to fear and respect ratherthan to love her; at least I observed this in the Queen's feelings towardsher august mother. She therefore never desired to place between her ownchildren and herself that distance which had existed in the imperialfamily. She cited a fatal consequence of it, which had made such apowerful impression upon her that time had never been able to efface it. 

The wife of the Emperor Joseph II. Was taken from him in a few days by anattack of smallpox of the most virulent kind. Her coffin had recentlybeen deposited in the vault of the imperial family. The ArchduchessJosepha, who had been betrothed to the King of Naples, at the instant shewas quitting Vienna received an order from the Empress not to set offwithout having offered up a prayer in the vault of her forefathers. TheArchduchess, persuaded that she should take the disorder to which hersister-in-law had just fallen a victim, looked upon this order as herdeath-warrant. She loved the young Archduchess Marie Antoinette tenderly;she took her upon her knees, embraced her with tears, and told her she wasabout to leave her, not for Naples, but never to see her again; that shewas going down then to the tomb of her ancestors, and that she shouldshortly go again there to remain. Her anticipation was realised;confluent smallpox carried her off in a very few days, and her youngestsister ascended the throne of Naples in her place. 

The Empress was too much taken up with high political interests to have itin her power to devote herself to maternal attentions. The celebratedWansvietten, her physician, went daily, to visit the young imperialfamily, and afterwards to Maria Theresa, and gave the most minute detailsrespecting the health of the Archdukes and Archduchesses, whom she herselfsometimes did not see for eight or ten days at a time. As soon as thearrival of a stranger of rank at Vienna was made known, the Empressbrought her family about her, admitted them to her table, and by thisconcerted meeting induced a belief that she herself presided over theeducation of her children. 

The chief governesses, being under no fear of inspection from MariaTheresa, aimed at making themselves beloved by their pupils by the commonand blamable practice of indulgence, so fatal to the future progress andhappiness of children. Marie Antoinette was the cause of her governessbeing dismissed, through a confession that all her copies and all herletters were invariably first traced out with pencil; the Comtesse deBrandes was appointed to succeed her, and fulfilled her duties with greatexactness and talent. The Queen looked upon having been confided to hercare so late as a misfortune, and always continued upon terms offriendship with that lady. The education of Marie Antoinette wascertainly very much neglected. With the exception of the Italianlanguage, all that related to belles lettres, and particularly to history, even that of her own country, was almost entirely unknown to her. Thiswas soon found out at the Court of France, and thence arose the generallyreceived opinion that she was deficient in sense. It will be seen in thecourse of these "Memoirs" whether that opinion was well or ill founded. The public prints, however, teemed with assertions of the superior talentsof Maria Theresa's children. They often noticed the answers which theyoung Princesses gave in Latin to the harangues addressed to them; theyuttered them, it is true, but without understanding them; they knew not asingle word of that language. 

Mention was one day made to the Queen of a drawing made by her, andpresented by the Empress to M. Gerard, chief clerk of Foreign Affairs, onthe occasion of his going to Vienna to draw up the articles for hermarriage-contract. "I should blush, " said she, "if that proof of thequackery of my education were shown to me. I do not believe that I everput a pencil to that drawing. " However, what had been taught her she knewperfectly well. Her facility of learning was inconceivable, and if allher teachers had been as well informed and as faithful to their duty asthe Abbe Metastasio, who taught her Italian, she would have attained asgreat a superiority in the other branches of her education. The Queenspoke that language with grace and ease, and translated the most difficultpoets. She did not write French correctly, but she spoke it with thegreatest fluency, and even affected to say that she had lost German. Infact she attempted in 1787 to learn her mother-tongue, and took lessonsassiduously for six weeks; she was obliged to relinquish them, finding allthe difficulties which a Frenchwoman, who should take up the study toolate, would have to encounter. In the same manner she gave up English, which I had taught her for some time, and in which she had made rapidprogress. Music was the accomplishment in which the Queen most delighted. She did not play well on any instrument, but she had become able to readat sight like a first-rate professor. She attained this degree ofperfection in France, this branch of her education having been neglectedat Vienna as much as the rest. A few days after her arrival atVersailles, she was introduced to her singing-master, La Garde, author ofthe opera of "Egle. " She made a distant appointment with him, needing, asshe said, rest after the fatigues of the journey and the numerous feteswhich had taken place at Versailles; but her motive was her desire toconceal how ignorant she was of the rudiments of music. She asked M. Campan whether his son, who was a good musician, could give her lessonssecretly for three months. "The Dauphiness, " added she, smiling, "must becareful of the reputation of the Archduchess. " The lessons were givenprivately, and at the end of three months of constant application she sentfor M. La Garde, and surprised him by her skill. 

The desire to perfect Marie Antoinette in the study of the French languagewas probably the motive which determined Maria Theresa to provide for heras teachers two French actors: Aufresne, for pronunciation anddeclamation, and Sainville, for taste in French singing; the latter hadbeen an officer in France, and bore a bad character. The choice gave justumbrage to our Court. The Marquis de Durfort, at that time ambassador atVienna, was ordered to make a representation to the Empress upon herselection. The two actors were dismissed, and the Princess required thatan ecclesiastic should be sent to her. Several eminent ecclesiasticsdeclined taking upon themselves so delicate an office; others who werepointed out by Maria Theresa (among the rest the Abbe Grisel) belonged toparties which sufficed to exclude them. 

The Archbishop of Toulouse one day went to the Duc de Choiseul at themoment when he was much embarrassed upon the subject of this nomination;he proposed to him the Abby de Vermond, librarian of the College desQuatre Nations. The eulogistic manner in which he spoke of his protegeprocured the appointment for the latter on that very day; and thegratitude of the Abbe de Vermond towards the prelate was very fatal toFrance, inasmuch as after seventeen years of persevering attempts to bringhim into the ministry, he succeeded at last in getting him namedComptroller-General and President of the Council. --[Comte de Brienne, later Archbishop of Sens. ]

This Abbe de Vermond directed almost all the Queen's actions. Heestablished his influence over her at an age when impressions are mostdurable; and it was easy to see that he had taken pains only to renderhimself beloved by his pupil, and had troubled himself very little withthe care of instructing her. He might have even been accused of having, by a sharp-sighted though culpable policy, purposely left her inignorance. Marie Antoinette spoke the French language with much grace, but wrote it less perfectly. The Abbe de Vermond revised all the letterswhich she sent to Vienna. The insupportable folly with which he boastedof it displayed the character of a man more flattered at being admittedinto her intimate secrets than anxious to fulfil worthily the high officeof her preceptor. 

[The Abbe de Vermond encouraged the impatience of etiquette shown by MarieAntoinette while she was Dauphiness. When she became Queen he endeavouredopenly to induce her to shake off the restraints she still respected. Ifhe chanced to enter her apartment at the time she was preparing to go out, "For whom, " he would say, in a tone of raillery, "is this detachment ofwarriors which I found in the court? Is it some general going to inspecthis army? Does all this military display become a young Queen adored byher subjects?" He would call to her mind the simplicity with which MariaTheresa lived; the visits she made without guards, or even attendants, tothe Prince d'Esterhazy, to the Comte de Palfi, passing whole days far fromthe fatiguing ceremonies of the Court. The Abbe thus artfully flatteredthe inclinations of Marie Antoinette, and showed her how she mightdisguise, even from herself, her aversion for the ceremonies observed bythe descendants of Louis XIV. -MADAME CAMPAN. ]

His pride received its birth at Vienna, where Maria Theresa, as much togive him authority with the Archduchess as to make herself acquainted withhis character, permitted him to mix every evening with the private circleof her family, into which the future Dauphiness had been admitted for sometime. Joseph II. , the elder Archduchess, and a few noblemen honoured bythe confidence of Maria Theresa, composed the party; and reflections onthe world, on courts, and the duties of princes were the usual topics ofconversation. The Abbe de Vermond, in relating these particulars, confessed the means which he had made use of to gain admission into thisprivate circle. The Empress, meeting him at the Archduchess's, asked himif he had formed any connections in Vienna. "None, Madame, " replied he;"the apartment of the Archduchess and the hotel of the ambassador ofFrance are the only places which the man honoured with the care of thePrincess's education should frequent. " A month afterwards Maria Theresa, through a habit common enough among sovereigns, asked him the samequestion, and received precisely the same answer. The next day hereceived an order to join the imperial family every evening. 

It is extremely probable, from the constant and well-known intercoursebetween this man and Comte de Mercy, ambassador of the Empire during thewhole reign of Louis XVI. , that he was useful to the Court of Vienna, andthat he often caused the Queen to decide on measures, the consequences ofwhich she did not consider. Not of high birth, imbued with all theprinciples of the modern philosophy, and yet holding to the hierarchy ofthe Church more tenaciously than any other ecclesiastic; vain, talkative, and at the same time cunning and abrupt; very ugly and affectingsingularity; treating the most exalted persons as his equals, sometimeseven as his inferiors, the Abbe de Vermond received ministers and bishopswhen in his bath; but said at the same time that Cardinal Dubois was afool; that a man such as he, having obtained power, ought to makecardinals, and refuse to be one himself. 

Intoxicated with the reception he had met with at the Court of Vienna, andhaving till then seen nothing of high life, the Abbe de Vermond admired noother customs than those of the imperial family; he ridiculed theetiquette of the House of Bourbon incessantly; the young Dauphiness wasconstantly incited by his sarcasms to get rid of it, and it was he whofirst induced her to suppress an infinity of practices of which he coulddiscern neither the prudence nor the political aim. Such is the faithfulportrait of that man whom the evil star of Marie Antoinette had reservedto guide her first steps upon a stage so conspicuous and so full of dangeras that of the Court of Versailles. 

It will be thought, perhaps, that I draw the character of the Abbe deVermond too unfavourably; but how can I view with any complacency one who, after having arrogated to himself the office of confidant and solecounsellor of the Queen, guided her with so little prudence, and gave usthe mortification of seeing that Princess blend, with qualities whichcharmed all that surrounded her, errors alike injurious to her glory andher happiness?

While M. De Choiseul, satisfied with the person whom M. De Brienne hadpresented, despatched him to Vienna with every eulogium calculated toinspire unbounded confidence, the Marquis de Durfort sent off ahairdresser and a few French fashions; and then it was thought sufficientpains had been taken to form the character of a princess destined to sharethe throne of France. 

The marriage of Monseigneur the Dauphin with the Archduchess wasdetermined upon during the administration of the Duc de Choiseul. TheMarquis de Durfort, who was to succeed the Baron de Breteuil in theembassy to Vienna, was appointed proxy for the marriage ceremony; but sixmonths after the Dauphin's marriage the Duc de Choiseul was disgraced, andMadame de Marsan and Madame de Guemenee, who grew more powerful throughthe Duke's disgrace, conferred that embassy, upon Prince Louis de Rohan, afterwards cardinal and grand almoner. 

Hence it will be seen that the Gazette de France is a sufficient answer tothose libellers who dared to assert that the young Archduchess wasacquainted with the Cardinal de Rohan before the period of her marriage. Aworse selection in itself, or one more disagreeable to Maria Theresa, thanthat which sent to her, in quality, of ambassador, a man so frivolous andso immoral as Prince Louis de Rohan, could not have been made. Hepossessed but superficial knowledge upon any subject, and was totallyignorant of diplomatic affairs. His reputation had gone before him toVienna, and his mission opened under the most unfavourable auspices. Inwant of money, and the House of Rohan being unable to make him anyconsiderable advances, he obtained from his Court a patent whichauthorised him to borrow the sum of 600, 000 livres upon his benefices, ranin debt above a million, and thought to dazzle the city and Court ofVienna by the most indecent and ill-judged extravagance. He formed asuite of eight or ten gentlemen, of names sufficiently high-sounding;twelve pages equally well born, a crowd of officers and servants, acompany of chamber musicians, etc. But this idle pomp did not last;embarrassment and distress soon showed themselves; his people, no longerreceiving pay, in order to make money, abused the privileges ofambassadors, and smuggled

[I have often heard the Queen say that, at Vienna, in the office of thesecretary of the Prince de Rohan, there were sold in one year more silkstockings than at Lyons and Paris together. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

with so much effrontery that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to it withoutoffending the Court of France, was compelled to suppress the privileges inthis respect of all the diplomatic bodies, a step which rendered theperson and conduct of Prince Louis odious in every foreign Court. Heseldom obtained private audiences from the Empress, who did not esteemhim, and who expressed herself without reserve upon his conduct both as abishop and as an ambassador. He thought to obtain favour by assisting toeffect the marriage of the Archduchess Elizabeth, the elder sister ofMarie Antoinette, with Louis XV. , an affair which was awkwardlyundertaken, and of which Madame du Barry had no difficulty in causing thefailure. I have deemed it my duty to omit no particular of the moral andpolitical character of a man whose existence was subsequently so injuriousto the reputation of Marie Antoinette. 

CHAPTER III. 

A superb pavilion had been prepared upon the frontier near Kehl. Itconsisted of a vast salon, connected with two apartments, one of which wasassigned to the lords and ladies of the Court of Vienna, and the other tothe suite of the Dauphiness, composed of the Comtesse de Noailles, herlady of honour; the Duchesse de Cosse, her dame d'atours; four ladies ofthe palace; the Comte de Saulx-Tavannes, chevalier d'honneur; the Comte deTesse, first equerry; the Bishop of Chartres, first almoner; the officersof the Body Guard, and the equerries. 

When the Dauphiness had been entirely undressed, in order that she mightretain nothing belonging to a foreign Court (an etiquette always observedon such an occasion), the doors were opened; the young Princess cameforward, looking round for the Comtesse de Noailles; then, rushing intoher arms, she implored her, with tears in her eyes, and with heartfeltsincerity, to be her guide and support. 

While doing justice to the virtues of the Comtesse de Noailles, thosesincerely attached to the Queen have always considered it as one of herearliest misfortunes not to have found, in the person of her adviser, awoman indulgent, enlightened, and administering good advice with thatamiability which disposes young persons to follow it. The Comtesse deNoailles had nothing agreeable in her appearance; her demeanour was stiffand her mien severe. She was perfect mistress of etiquette; but shewearied the young Princess with it, without making her sensible of itsimportance. It would have been sufficient to represent to the Dauphinessthat in France her dignity depended much upon customs not necessary atVienna to secure the respect and love of the good and submissive Austriansfor the imperial family; but the Dauphiness was perpetually tormented bythe remonstrances of the Comtesse de Noailles, and at the same time wasled by the Abbe de Vermond to ridicule both the lessons upon etiquette andher who gave them. She preferred raillery to argument, and nicknamed theComtesse de Noailles Madame l'Etiquette. 

The fetes which were given at Versailles on the marriage of the Dauphinwere very splendid. The Dauphiness arrived there at the hour for hertoilet, having slept at La Muette, where Louis XV. Had been to receiveher; and where that Prince, blinded by a feeling unworthy of a sovereignand the father of a family, caused the young Princess, the royal family, and the ladies of the Court, to sit down to supper with Madame du Barry. 

The Dauphiness was hurt at this conduct; she spoke of it openly enough tothose with whom she was intimate, but she knew how to conceal herdissatisfaction in public, and her behaviour showed no signs of it. 

She was received at Versailles in an apartment on the ground floor, underthat of the late Queen, which was not ready for her until six months afterher marriage. 

The Dauphiness, then fifteen years of age, beaming with freshness, appeared to all eyes more than beautiful. Her walk partook at once of thedignity of the Princesses of her house, and of the grace of the French;her eyes were mild, her smile amiable. When she went to chapel, as soonas she had taken the first few steps in the long gallery, she discerned, all the way to its extremity, those persons whom she ought to salute withthe consideration due to their rank; those on whom she should bestow aninclination of the head; and lastly, those who were to be satisfied with asmile, calculated to console them for not being entitled to greaterhonours. 

Louis XV. Was enchanted with the young Dauphiness; all his conversationwas about her graces, her vivacity, and the aptness of her repartees. Shewas yet more successful with the royal family when they beheld her shornof the splendour of the diamonds with which she had been adorned duringthe first days of her marriage. When clothed in a light dress of gauze ortaffety she was compared to the Venus dei Medici, and the Atalanta of theMarly Gardens. Poets sang her charms; painters attempted to copy herfeatures. One artist's fancy led him to place the portrait of MarieAntoinette in the heart of a full-blown rose. His ingenious idea wasrewarded by Louis XV. 

The King continued to talk only of the Dauphiness; and Madame du Barryill-naturedly endeavoured to damp his enthusiasm. Whenever MarieAntoinette was the topic, she pointed out the irregularity of herfeatures, criticised the 'bons mots' quoted as hers, and rallied the Kingupon his prepossession in her favour. Madame du Barry was affronted atnot receiving from the Dauphiness those attentions to which she thoughtherself entitled; she did not conceal her vexation from the King; she wasafraid that the grace and cheerfulness of the young Princess would makethe domestic circle of the royal family more agreeable to the oldsovereign, and that he would escape her chains; at the same time, hatredto the Choiseul party contributed powerfully to excite the enmity of thefavourite. 

The fall of that minister took place in November, 1770, six months afterhis long influence in the Council had brought about the alliance with theHouse of Austria and the arrival of Marie Antoinette at the Court ofFrance. The Princess, young, frank, volatile, and inexperienced, foundherself without any other guide than the Abbe de Vermond, in a Court ruledby the enemy of the minister who had brought her there, and in the midstof people who hated Austria, and detested any alliance with the imperialhouse. 

The Duc d'Aiguillon, the Duc de La Vauguyon, the Marechal de Richelieu, the Rohans, and other considerable families, who had made use of Madame duBarry to overthrow the Duke, could not flatter themselves, notwithstandingtheir powerful intrigues, with a hope of being able to break off analliance solemnly announced, and involving such high political interests. They therefore changed their mode of attack, and it will be seen how theconduct of the Dauphin served as a basis for their hopes. 

The Dauphiness continually gave proofs of both sense and feeling. Sometimes she even suffered herself to be carried away by those transportsof compassionate kindness which are not to be controlled by the customswhich rank establishes. 

In consequence of the fire in the Place Louis XV. , which occurred at thetime of the nuptial entertainments, the Dauphin and Dauphiness sent their, whole income for the year to the relief of the unfortunate families wholost their relatives on that disastrous day. 

This was one of those ostentatious acts of generosity which are dictatedby the policy of princes, at least as much as by their compassion; but thegrief of Marie Antoinette was profound, and lasted several days; nothingcould console her for the loss of so many innocent victims; she spoke ofit, weeping, to her ladies, one of whom, thinking, no doubt, to divert hermind, told her that a great number of thieves had been found among thebodies, and that their pockets were filled with watches and othervaluables. "They have at least been well punished, " added the person whorelated these particulars. "Oh, no, no, madame!" replied the Dauphiness;"they died by the side of honest people. "

The Dauphiness had brought from Vienna a considerable number of whitediamonds; the King added to them the gift of the diamonds and pearls ofthe late Dauphiness, and also put into her hands a collar of pearls, of asingle row, the smallest of which was as large as a filbert, and which hadbeen brought into France by Anne of Austria, and appropriated by thatPrincess to the use of the Queens and Dauphinesses of France. 

The three Princesses, daughters of Louis XV. , joined in making hermagnificent presents. Madame Adelaide at the same time gave the youngPrincess a key to the private corridors of the Chateau, by means of which, without any suite, and without being perceived, she could get to theapartments of her aunts, and see them in private. The Dauphiness, onreceiving the key, told them, with infinite grace, that if they had meantto make her appreciate the superb presents they were kind enough to bestowupon her, they should not at the same time have offered her one of suchinestimable value; since to that key she should be indebted for anintimacy and advice unspeakably precious at her age. She did, indeed, make use of it very frequently; but Madame Victoire alone permitted her, so long as she continued Dauphiness, to visit her familiarly. MadameAdelaide could not overcome her prejudices against Austrian princesses, and was wearied with the somewhat petulant gaiety of the Dauphiness. Madame Victoire was concerned at this, feeling that their society andcounsel would have been highly useful to a young person otherwise likelyto meet with none but sycophants. She endeavoured, therefore, to induceher to take pleasure in the society of the Marquise de Durfort, her ladyof honour and favourite. Several agreeable entertainments took place atthe house of this lady, but the Comtesse de Noailles and the Abbe deVermond soon opposed these meetings. 

A circumstance which happened in hunting, near the village of Acheres, inthe forest of Fontainebleau, afforded the young Princess an opportunity ofdisplaying her respect for old age, and her compassion for misfortune. Anaged peasant was wounded by the stag; the Dauphiness jumped out of hercalash, placed the peasant, with his wife and children, in it, had thefamily taken back to their cottage, and bestowed upon them every attentionand every necessary assistance. Her heart was always open to the feelingsof compassion, and the recollection of her rank never restrained hersensibility. Several persons in her service entered her room one evening, expecting to find nobody there but the officer in waiting; they perceivedthe young Princess seated by the side of this man, who was advanced inyears; she had placed near him a bowl full of water, was stanching theblood which issued from a wound he had received in his hand with herhandkerchief, which she had torn up to bind it, and was fulfilling towardshim all the duties of a pious sister of charity. The old man, affectedeven to tears, out of respect allowed his august mistress to act as shethought proper. He had hurt himself in endeavouring to move a ratherheavy piece of furniture at the Princess's request. 

In the month of July, 1770, an unfortunate occurrence that took place in afamily which the Dauphiness honoured with her favour contributed again toshow not only her sensibility but also the benevolence of her disposition. One of her women in waiting had a son who was an officer in the gensd'armes of the guard; this young man thought himself affronted by a clerkin the War Department, and imprudently sent him a challenge; he killed hisadversary in the forest of Compiegne. The family of the young man who waskilled, being in possession of the challenge, demanded justice. The King, distressed on account of several duels which had recently taken place, hadunfortunately declared that he would show no mercy on the first event ofthat kind which could be proved; the culprit was therefore arrested. Hismother, in the deepest grief, hastened to throw herself at the feet of theDauphiness, the Dauphin, and the young Princesses. After an hour'ssupplication they obtained from the King the favour so much desired. Onthe next day a lady of rank, while congratulating the Dauphiness, had themalice to add that the mother had neglected no means of success on theoccasion, having solicited not only the royal family, but even Madame duBarry. The Dauphiness replied that the fact justified the favourableopinion she had formed of the worthy woman; that the heart of a mothershould hesitate at nothing for the salvation of her son; and that in herplace, if she had thought it would be serviceable, she would have thrownherself at the feet of Zamor. 

[A little Indian who carried the Comtesse du Barry's train. Louis XV. Often amused himself with the little marmoset, and jestingly made himGovernor of Louveciennes; he received an annual income of 3, 000 francs. ]

Some time after the marriage entertainments the Dauphiness made her entryinto Paris, and was received with transports of joy. After dining in theKing's apartment at the Tuileries, she was forced, by the reiteratedshouts of the multitude, with whom the garden was filled, to presentherself upon the balcony fronting the principal walk. On seeing such acrowd of heads with their eyes fixed upon her, she exclaimed, "Grand-Dieu!what a concourse!"--"Madame, " said the old Duc de Brissac, the Governor ofParis, "I may tell you, without fear of offending the Dauphin, that theyare so many lovers. " 2 The Dauphin took no umbrage at either acclamationsor marks of homage of which the Dauphiness was the object. The mostmortifying indifference, a coldness which frequently degenerated intorudeness, were the sole feelings which the young Prince then manifestedtowards her. Not all her charms could gain even upon his senses. Thisestrangement, which lasted a long time, was said to be the work of the Ducde La Vauguyon. 

The Dauphiness, in fact, had no sincere friends at Court except the Duc deChoiseul and his party. Will it be credited that the plans laid againstMarie Antoinette went so far as divorce? I have been assured of it bypersons holding high situations at Court, and many circumstances tend toconfirm the opinion. On the journey to Fontainebleau, in the year of themarriage, the inspectors of public buildings were gained over to manage sothat the apartment intended for the Dauphin, communicating with that ofthe Dauphiness, should not be finished, and a room at the extremity of thebuilding was temporarily assigned to him. The Dauphiness, aware that thiswas the result of intrigue, had the courage to complain of it to LouisXV. , who, after severe reprimands, gave orders so positive that within theweek the apartment was ready. Every method was tried to continue oraugment the indifference which the Dauphin long manifested towards hisyouthful spouse. She was deeply hurt at it, but she never sufferedherself to utter the slightest complaint on the subject. Inattention to, even contempt for, the charms which she heard extolled on all sides, nothing induced her to break silence; and some tears, which wouldinvoluntarily burst from her eyes, were the sole symptoms of her inwardsufferings discoverable by those in her service. 

Once only, when tired out with the misplaced remonstrances of an old ladyattached to her person, who wished to dissuade her from riding onhorseback, under the impression that it would prevent her producing heirsto the crown, "Mademoiselle, " said she, "in God's name, leave me in peace;be assured that I can put no heir in danger. "

The Dauphiness found at the Court of Louis XV. , besides the threePrincesses, the King's daughters, the Princes also, brothers of theDauphin, who were receiving their education, and Clotilde and Elisabeth, still in the care of Madame de Marsan, governess of the children ofFrance. The elder of the two latter Princesses, in 1777, married thePrince of Piedmont, afterwards King of Sardinia. This Princess was in herinfancy, so extremely large that the people nicknamed her 'gros Madame. '

[Madame Clotilde of France, a sister of the King, was extraordinarily fatfor her height and age. One of her playfellows, having been indiscreetenough even in her presence to make use of the nickname given to her, received a severe reprimand from the Comtesse de Marsan, who hinted to herthat she would do well in not making her appearance again before thePrincess. Madame Clotilde sent for her the next day: "My governess, " saidshe, "has done her duty, and I will do mine; come and see me as usual, andthink no more of a piece of inadvertence, which I myself have forgotten. "This Princess, so heavy in body, possessed the most agreeable and playfulwit. Her affability and grace rendered her dear to all who came nearher. --NOTE BY THE EDITOR]

The second Princess was the pious Elisabeth, the victim of her respect andtender attachment for the King, her brother. She was still scarcely outof her leading-strings at the period of the Dauphin's marriage. TheDauphiness showed her marked preference. The governess, who sought toadvance the Princess to whom nature had been least favourable, wasoffended at the Dauphiness's partiality for Madame Elisabeth, and by herinjudicious complaints weakened the friendship which yet subsisted betweenMadame Clotilde and Marie Antoinette. There even arose some degree ofrivalry on the subject of education; and that which the Empress MariaTheresa bestowed on her daughters was talked of openly and unfavourablyenough. The Abbe de Vermond thought himself affronted, took a part in thequarrel, and added his complaints and jokes to those of the Dauphiness onthe criticisms of the governess; he even indulged himself in his turn inreflections on the tuition of Madame Clotilde. Everything becomes known atCourt. Madame de Marsan was informed of all that had been said in theDauphiness's circle, and was very angry with her on account of it. 

From that moment a centre of intrigue, or rather gossip, against MarieAntoinette was established round Madame de Marsan's fireside; her mosttrifling actions were there construed ill; her gaiety, and the harmlessamusements in which she sometimes indulged in her own apartments with themore youthful ladies of her train, and even with the women in her service, were stigmatised as criminal. Prince Louis de Rohan, sent through theinfluence of this clique ambassador to Vienna, was the echo there of theseunmerited comments, and threw himself into a series of culpableaccusations which he proffered under the guise of zeal. He ceaselesslyrepresented the young Dauphiness as alienating all hearts by levitiesunsuitable to the dignity of the French Court. The Princess frequentlyreceived from the Court of Vienna remonstrances, of the origin of whichshe could not long remain in ignorance. From this period must be datedthat aversion which she never ceased to manifest for the Prince de Rohan. 

About the same time the Dauphiness received information of a letterwritten by Prince Louis to the Duc d'Aiguillon, in which the ambassadorexpressed himself in very free language respecting the intentions of MariaTheresa with relation to the partition of Poland. This letter of PrinceLouis had been read at the Comtesse du Barry's; the levity of theambassador's correspondence wounded the feelings and the dignity of theDauphiness at Versailles, while at Vienna the representations which hemade to Maria Theresa against the young Princess terminated in renderingthe motives of his incessant complaints suspected by the Empress. 

Maria Theresa at length determined on sending her private secretary, Baronde Neni, to Versailles, with directions to observe the conduct of theDauphiness with attention, and form a just estimate of the opinion of theCourt and of Paris with regard to that Princess. The Baron de Neni, afterhaving devoted sufficient time and intelligence to the subject, undeceivedhis sovereign as to the exaggerations of the French ambassador; and theEmpress had no difficulty in detecting, among the calumnies which he hadconveyed to her under the specious excuse of anxiety for her augustdaughter, proofs of the enmity of a, party which had never approved of thealliance of the House of Bourbon with her own. 

At this period the Dauphiness, though unable to obtain any influence overthe heart of her husband, dreading Louis XV. , and justly mistrustingeverything connected with Madame du Barry and the Duc d'Aiguillon, had notdeserved the slightest reproach for that sort of levity which hatred andher misfortunes afterwards construed into crime. The Empress, convincedof the innocence of Marie Antoinette, directed the Baron de Neni tosolicit the recall of the Prince de Rohan, and to inform the Minister forForeign Affairs of all the motives which made her require it; but theHouse of Rohan interposed between its protege and the Austrian envoy, andan evasive answer merely was given. 

It was not until two months after the death of Louis XV. That the Courtof Vienna obtained his recall. The avowed grounds for requiring it were, first, the public gallantries of Prince Louis with some ladies of theCourt and others; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards otherforeign ministers, which would have had more serious consequences, especially with the ministers of England and Denmark, if the Empressherself had not interfered; thirdly, his contempt for religion in acountry where it was particularly necessary to show respect for it. He hadbeen seen frequently to dress himself in clothes of different colours, assuming the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom he visited, with somuch audacity that one day in particular, during the Fete-Dieu, he and allhis legation, in green uniforms laced with gold, broke through aprocession which impeded them, in order to make their way to a huntingparty at the Prince de Paar's; and fourthly, the immense debts contractedby him and his people, which were tardily and only in part discharged. 

The succeeding marriages of the Comte de Provence and the Comte d'Artoiswith two daughters of the King of Sardinia procured society for theDauphiness more suitable to her age, and altered her mode of life. 

A pair of tolerably fine eyes drew forth, in favour of the Comtesse deProvence, upon her arrival at Versailles, the only praises which couldreasonably be bestowed upon her. The Comtesse d'Artois, though notdeformed, was very small; she had a fine complexion; her face, tolerablypleasing, was not remarkable for anything except the extreme length of thenose. But being good and generous, she was beloved by those about her, and even possessed some influence so long as she was the only Princess whohad produced heirs to the crown. 

From this time the closest intimacy subsisted between the three youngfamilies. They took their meals together, except on those days when theydined in public. This manner of living en famille continued until theQueen sometimes indulged herself in going to dine with the Duchesse dePolignac, when she was governess; but the evening meetings at supper werenever interrupted; they took place at the house of the Comtesse deProvence. Madame Elisabeth made one of the party when she had finishedher education, and sometimes Mesdames, the King's aunts, were invited. Thecustom, which had no precedent at Court, was the work of Marie Antoinette, and she maintained it with the utmost perseverance. 

The Court of Versailles saw no change in point of etiquette during thereign of Louis XV. Play took place at the house of the Dauphiness, asbeing the first lady of the State. It had, from the death of Queen MariaLeczinska to the marriage of the Dauphin, been held at the abode of MadameAdelade. This removal, the result of an order of precedence not to beviolated, was not the less displeasing to Madame Adelaide, who establisheda separate party for play in her apartments, and scarcely ever went tothat which not only the Court in general, but also the royal family, wereexpected to attend. The full-dress visits to the King on his 'debotter'were continued. High mass was attended daily. The airings of thePrincesses were nothing more than rapid races in berlins, during whichthey were accompanied by Body Guards, equerries, and pages on horseback. They galloped for some leagues from Versailles. Calashes were used onlyin hunting. 

The young Princesses were desirous to infuse animation into their circleof associates by something useful as well as pleasant. They adopted theplan of learning and performing all the best plays of the French theatre. The Dauphin was the only spectator. The three Princesses, the twobrothers of the King, and Messieurs Campan, father and son, were the soleperformers, but they endeavoured to keep this amusement as secret as anaffair of State; they dreaded the censure of Mesdames, and they had nodoubt that Louis XV. Would forbid such pastimes if he knew of them. Theyselected for their performance a cabinet in the entresol which nobody hadoccasion to enter. 

A kind of proscenium, which could be taken down and shut up in a closet, formed the whole theatre. The Comte de Provence always knew his part withimperturbable accuracy; the Comte d'Artois knew his tolerably well, andrecited elegantly; the Princesses acted badly. The Dauphiness acquittedherself in some characters with discrimination and feeling. The chiefpleasure of this amusement consisted in all the costumes being elegant andaccurate. The Dauphin entered into the spirit of these diversions, andlaughed heartily at the comic characters as they came on the scene; fromthese amusements may be dated his discontinuance of the timid manner ofhis youth, and his taking pleasure in the society of the Dauphiness. 

It was not till a long time afterwards that I learnt these particulars, M. Campan having kept the secret; but an unforeseen event had well-nighexposed the whole mystery. One day the Queen desired M. Campan to go downinto her closet to fetch something that she had forgotten; he was dressedfor the character of Crispin, and was rouged. A private staircase leddirect to the entresol through the dressing-room. M. Campan fancied heheard some noise, and remained still, behind the door, which was shut. Aservant belonging to the wardrobe, who was, in fact, on the staircase, hadalso heard some noise, and, either from fear or curiosity, he suddenlyopened the door; the figure of Crispin frightened him so that he fell downbackwards, shouting with his might, "Help! help!" My father-in-law raisedhim up, made him recognise his voice, and laid upon him an injunction ofsilence as to what he had seen. He felt himself, however, bound to informthe Dauphiness of what had happened, and she was afraid that a similaroccurrence might betray their amusements. They were thereforediscontinued. 

The Princess occupied her time in her own apartment in the study of musicand the parts in plays which she had to learn; the latter exercise, atleast, produced the beneficial effect of strengthening her memory andfamiliarising her with the French language. 

While Louis XV. Reigned, the enemies of Marie Antoinette made no attemptto change public opinion with regard to her. She was always popular withthe French people in general, and particularly with the inhabitants ofParis, who went on every opportunity to Versailles, the majority of themattracted solely by the pleasure of seeing her. The courtiers did notfully enter into the popular enthusiasm which the Dauphiness had inspired;the disgrace of the Duc de Choiseul had removed her real support from her;and the party which had the ascendency at Court since the exile of thatminister was, politically, as much opposed to her family as to herself. The Dauphiness was therefore surrounded by enemies at Versailles. 

Nevertheless everybody appeared outwardly desirous to please her; for theage of Louis XV. , and the apathetic character of the Dauphin, sufficientlywarned courtiers of the important part reserved for the Princess duringthe following reign, in case the Dauphin should become attached to her. 

CHAPTER IV. 

About the beginning of May, 1774, Louis XV. , the strength of whoseconstitution had promised a long enough life, was attacked by confluentsmallpox of the worst kind. Mesdames at this juncture inspired theDauphiness with a feeling of respect and attachment, of which she gavethem repeated proofs when she ascended the throne. In fact, nothing wasmore admirable nor more affecting than the courage with which they bravedthat most horrible disease. The air of the palace was infected; more thanfifty persons took the smallpox, in consequence of having merely loiteredin the galleries of Versailles, and ten died of it. 

The end of the monarch was approaching. His reign, peaceful in general, had inherited strength from the power of his predecessor; on the otherhand, his own weakness had been preparing misfortune for whoever shouldreign after him. The scene was about to change; hope, ambition, joy, grief, and all those feelings which variously affected the hearts of thecourtiers, sought in vain to disguise themselves under a calm exterior. Itwas easy to detect the different motives which induced them every momentto repeat to every one the question: "How is the King?" At length, on the10th of May, 1774, the mortal career of Louis XV. Terminated. 

[Christopher de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, the ardent apostle offrequent communion, arrived at Paris with the intention of soliciting, inpublic, the administration of the sacrament to the King, and secretlyretarding it as much as possible. The ceremony could not take placewithout the previous and public expulsion of the, concubine, according tothe canons of the Church and the Jesuitical party, of which Christopherwas the leader. This party, which had made use of Madame du Barry tosuppress the Parliaments, to support the Duc d'Aiguillon, and ruin theChoiseul faction, could not willingly consent to disgrace her canonically. The Archbishop went into the King's bedchamber, and found there MadameAdelaide, the Duc d'Aumont, the Bishop of Senlis, and Richelieu, in whosepresence he resolved not to say one word about confession for that day. This reticence so encouraged Louis XV. That, on the Archbishopwithdrawing, he had Madame du Barry called in, and kissed her beautifulhands again with his wonted affection. On the 2d of May the King foundhimself a little better. Madame du Barry had brought him two confidentialphysicians, Lorry and Borden, who were enjoined to conceal the nature ofhis sickness from him in order to keep off the priests and save her from ahumiliating dismissal. The King's improvement allowed Madame du Barry todivert him by her usual playfulness and conversation. But La Martiniere, who was of the Choiseul party, and to whom they durst not refuse his rightof entry, did not conceal from the King either the nature or the danger ofhis sickness. The King then sent for Madame du Barry, and said to her:"My love, I have got the smallpox, and my illness is very dangerous onaccount of my age and other disorders. I ought not to forget that I amthe most Christian King, and the eldest son of the Church. I amsixty-four; the time is perhaps approaching when we must separate. I wishto prevent a scene like that of Metz. " (when, in 1744, he had dismissedthe Duchesse de Chateauroux. ) "Apprise the Duc d'Aiguillon of what I say, that he may arrange with you if my sickness grows worse; so that we maypart without any publicity. " The Jansenists and the Duc de Choiseursparty publicly said that M. D'Aiguillon and the Archbishop had resolved tolet the King die without receiving the sacrament rather than disturbMadame du Barry. Annoyed by their remarks, Beaumont determined to go andreside at the Lazaristes, his house at Versailles, to avail himself of theKing's last moments, and sacrifice Madame du Barry when the monarch'scondition should become desperate. He arrived on the 3d of May, but didnot see the King. Under existing circumstances, his object was to humblethe enemies of his party and to support the favourite who had assisted toovercome them. 

A contrary zeal animated the Bishop of Carcassonne, who urged that "theKing ought to receive the sacrament; and by expelling the concubine togive an example of repentance to France and Christian Europe, which he hadscandalised. "--" By what right, " said Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon, acomplaisant courtier with whom the Bishop was at daggers drawn, "do youinstruct me?"--"There is my authority, " replied the Bishop, holding up hispectoral cross. "Learn, monseigneur, to respect it, and do not sufferyour King to die without the sacraments of the Church, of which he is theeldest son. " The Duc d'Aiguillon and the Archbishop, who witnessed thediscussion, put an end to it by asking for the King's orders relative toMadame du Barry. "She must be taken quietly to your seat at Ruelle, " saidthe King; "I shall be grateful for the care Madame d'Aiguillon may take ofher. "

Madame du Barry saw the King again for a moment on the evening of the 4th, and promised to return to Court upon his recovery. She was scarcely gonewhen the King asked for her. "She is gone, " was the answer. From thatmoment the disorder gained ground; he thought himself a dead man, withoutthe possibility of recovery. The 5th and 6th passed without a word ofconfession, viaticum, or extreme unction. The Duc de Fronsac threatenedto throw the Cure of Versailles out of the window if he dared to mentionthem, but on the 7th, at three in the morning, the King imperativelycalled for the Abbe Maudous. Confession lasted seventeen minutes. TheDucs de la Vrillilere and d'Aiguillon wished to delay the viaticum; but LaMartiniere said to the King: "Sire, I have seen your Majesty in verytrying circumstances; but never admired you as I have done to-day. Nodoubt your Majesty will immediately finish what you have so well begun. "The King had his confessor Maudoua called back; this was a poor priest whohad been placed about him for some years before because he was old andblind. He gave him absolution. 

The formal renunciation desired by the Choiseul party, in order to humbleand annihilate Madame du Barry with solemnity, was no more mentioned. Thegrand almoner, in concert with the Archbishop, composed this formula, pronounced in presence of the viaticum: "Although the King owes an accountof his conduct to none but God, he declares his repentance at havingscandalised his subjects, and is desirous to live solely for themaintenance of religion and the happiness of his people. "

On the 8th and 9th the disorder grew worse; and the King beheld the wholesurface of his body coming off piecemeal and corrupted. Deserted by hisfriends and by that crowd of courtiers which had so long cringed beforehim, his only consolation was the piety of his daughters. --SOULAVIE, "Historical and Political Memoirs, " vol. I. ]

The Comtesse du Barry had, a few days previously, withdrawn to Ruelle, tothe Duc d'Aiguillon's. Twelve or fifteen persons belonging to the Courtthought it their duty to visit her there; their liveries were observed, and these visits were for a long time grounds for disfavour. More thansix years after the King's death one of these persons being spoken of inthe circle of the royal family, I heard it remarked, "That was one of thefifteen Ruelle carriages. "

The whole Court went to the Chateau; the oiel-de boeuf was filled withcourtiers, and the palace with the inquisitive. The Dauphin had settledthat he would depart with the royal family the moment the King shouldbreathe his last sigh. But on such an occasion decency forbade thatpositive orders for departure should be passed from mouth to mouth. Theheads of the stables, therefore, agreed with the people who were in theKing's room, that the latter should place a lighted taper near a window, and that at the instant of the King's decease one of them shouldextinguish it. 

The taper was extinguished. On this signal the Body Guards, pages, andequerries mounted on horseback, and all was ready for setting off. TheDauphin was with the Dauphiness. They were expecting together theintelligence of the death of Louis XV. A dreadful noise, absolutely likethunder, was heard in the outer apartment; it was the crowd of courtierswho were deserting the dead sovereign's antechamber, to come and do homageto the new power of Louis XVI. This extraordinary tumult informed MarieAntoinette and her husband that they were called to the throne; and, by aspontaneous movement, which deeply affected those around them, they threwthemselves on their knees; both, pouring forth a flood of tears, exclaimed: "O God! guide us, protect us; we are too young to reign. "

The Comtesse de Noailles entered, and was the first to salute MarieAntoinette as Queen of France. She requested their Majesties tocondescend to quit the inner apartments for the grand salon, to receivethe Princes and all the great officers, who were desirous to do homage totheir new sovereigns. Marie Antoinette received these first visitsleaning upon her husband, with her handkerchief held to her eyes; thecarriages drove up, the guards and equerries were on horseback. TheChateau was deserted; every one hastened to fly from contagion, whichthere was no longer any inducement to brave. 

On leaving the chamber of Louis XV. , the Duc de Villequier, firstgentleman of the bedchamber for the year, ordered M. Andouille, the King'schief surgeon, to open the body and embalm it. The chief surgeon wouldinevitably have died in consequence. "I am ready, " replied Andouille;"but while I operate you shall hold the head; your office imposes thisduty upon you. " The Duke went off without saying a word, and the corpsewas neither opened nor embalmed. A few under-servants and workmencontinued with the pestiferous remains, and paid the last duty to theirmaster; the surgeons directed that spirits of wine should be poured intothe coffin. 

The entire Court set off for Choisy at four o'clock; Mesdames the King'saunts in their private carriage, and the Princesses under tuition with theComtesse de Marsan and the under-governesses. The King, the Queen, Monsieur, the King's brother, Madame, and the Comte and Comtesse d'Artoiswent in the same carriage. The solemn scene that had just passed beforetheir eyes, the multiplied ideas offered to their imaginations by thatwhich was just opening, had naturally inclined them to grief andreflection; but, by the Queen's own confession, this inclination, littlesuited to their age, wholly left them before they had gone half theirjourney; a word, drolly mangled by the Comtesse d'Artois, occasioned ageneral burst of laughter; and from that moment they dried their tears. 

The communication between Choisy and Paris was incessant; never was aCourt seen in greater agitation. What influence will the royal auntshave, --and the Queen? What fate is reserved for the Comtesse du Barry?Whom will the young King choose for his ministers? All these questionswere answered in a few days. It was determined that the King's youthrequired a confidential person near him; and that there should be a primeminister. All eyes were turned upon De Machault and De Maurepas, both ofthem much advanced in years. The first had retired to his estate nearParis; and the second to Pont Chartrain, to which place he had long beenexiled. The letter recalling M. De Machault was written, when MadameAdelaide obtained the preference of that important appointment for M. DeMaurepas. The page to whose care the first letter had been actuallyconsigned was recalled. 

The Duc d'Aiguillon had been too openly known as the private friend of theKing's mistress; he was dismissed. M. De Vergennes, at that timeambassador of France at Stockholm, was appointed Minister for ForeignAffairs; Comte du Muy, the intimate friend of the Dauphin, the father ofLouis XVI. [?? D. W. ], obtained the War Department. The Abbe Terray in vainsaid, and wrote, that he had boldly done all possible injury to thecreditors of the State during the reign of the late King; that order wasrestored in the finances; that nothing but what was beneficial to allparties remained to be done; and that the new Court was about to enjoy theadvantages of the regenerating part of his plan of finance; all thesereasons, set forth in five or six memorials, which he sent in successionto the King and Queen, did not avail to keep him in office. His talentswere admitted, but the odium which his operations had necessarily broughtupon his character, combined with the immorality of his private life, forbade his further stay at Court; he was succeeded by M. De Clugny. DeMaupeou, the chancellor, was exiled; this caused universal joy. Lastly, the reassembling of the Parliaments produced the strongest sensation;Paris was in a delirium of joy, and not more than one person in a hundredforesaw that the spirit of the ancient magistracy would be still the same;and that in a short time it would make new attempts upon the royalauthority. Madame du Barry had been exiled to Pont-aux-Dames. This was ameasure rather of necessity than of severity; a short period of compulsoryretreat was requisite in order completely to break off her connectionswith State affairs. The possession of Louveciennes and a considerablepension were continued to her. 

[The Comtesse du Barry never forgot the mild treatment she experiencedfrom the Court of Louis XVI. ; during the most violent convulsions of theRevolution she signified to the Queen that there was no one in France moregrieved at the sufferings of her sovereign than herself; that the honourshe had for years enjoyed, of living near the throne, and the unboundedkindness of the King and Queen, had so sincerely attached her to the causeof royalty that she entreated the Queen to honour her by disposing of allshe possessed. Though they did not accept her offer, their Majesties wereaffected at her gratitude. The Comtesse du Barry was, as is well known, one of the victims of the Revolution. She betrayed at the last greatweakness, and the most ardent desire to live. She was the only woman whowept upon the scaffold and implored for mercy. Her beauty and tears madean impression on the populace, and the execution was hurried to aconclusion. --MADAME CAMPAN. ]

Everybody expected the recall of M. De Choiseul; the regret occasioned byhis absence among the numerous friends whom he had left at Court, theattachment of the young Princess who was indebted to him for her elevationto the throne of France, and all concurring circumstances, seemed toforetell his return; the Queen earnestly entreated it of the King, but shemet with an insurmountable and unforeseen obstacle. The King, it is said, had imbibed the strongest prejudices against that minister, from secretmemoranda penned by his father, and which had been committed to the careof the Duc de La Vauguyon, with an injunction to place them in his handsas soon as he should be old enough to study the art of reigning. It wasby these memoranda that the esteem which he had conceived for the Marechaldu Muy was inspired, and we may add that Madame Adelaide, who at thisearly period powerfully influenced the decisions of the young monarch, confirmed the impressions they had made. 

The Queen conversed with M. Campan on the regret she felt at having beenunable to procure the recall of M. De Choiseul, and disclosed the cause ofit to him. The Abbe de Vermond, who, down to the time of the death ofLouis XV. , had been on terms of the strictest friendship with M. Campan, called upon him on the second day after the arrival of the Court atChoisy, and, assuming a serious air, said, "Monsieur, the Queen wasindiscreet enough yesterday to speak to you of a minister to whom she mustof course be attached, and whom his friends ardently desire to have nearher; you are aware that we must give up all expectation of seeing the Dukeat Court; you know the reasons why; but you do not know that the youngQueen, having mentioned the conversation in question to me, it was myduty, both as her preceptor and her friend, to remonstrate severely withher on her indiscretion in communicating to you those particulars of whichyou are in possession. I am now come to tell you that if you continue toavail yourself of the good nature of your mistress to initiate yourself insecrets of State, you will have me for your most inveterate enemy. TheQueen should find here no other confidant than myself respecting thingsthat ought to remain secret. " M. Campan answered that he did not covetthe important and dangerous character at the new Court which the Abbewished to appropriate; and that he should confine himself to the duties ofhis office, being sufficiently satisfied with the continued kindness withwhich the Queen honoured him. Notwithstanding this, however, he informedthe Queen, on the very same evening, of the injunction he had received. She owned that she had mentioned their conversation to the Abbe; that hehad indeed seriously scolded her, in order to make her feel the necessityof being secret in concerns of State; and she added, "The Abbe cannot likeyou, my dear Campan; he did not expect that I should, on my arrival inFrance, find in my household a man who would suit me so exactly as youhave done. I know that he has taken umbrage at it; that is enough. Iknow, too, that you are incapable of attempting anything to injure him inmy esteem; an attempt which would besides be vain, for I have been toolong attached to him. As to yourself, be easy on the score of the Abbe'shostility, which shall not in any way hurt you. "

The Abbe de Vermond having made himself master of the office of soleconfidant to the Queen, was nevertheless agitated whenever he saw theyoung King; he could not be ignorant that the Abbe had been promoted bythe Duc de Choiseul, and was believed to favour the Encyclopedists, against whom Louis XVI. Entertained a secret prejudice, although hesuffered them to gain so great an ascendency during his reign. The Abbehad, moreover, observed that the King had never, while Dauphin, addresseda single word to him; and that he very frequently only answered him with ashrug of the shoulders. He therefore determined on writing to Louis XVI. , and intimating that he owed his situation at Court solely to theconfidence with which the late King had honoured him; and that as habitscontracted during the Queen's education placed him continually in theclosest intimacy with her, he could not enjoy the honour of remaining nearher Majesty without the King's consent. Louis XVI. Sent back his letter, after writing upon it these words: "I approve the Abbe de Vermondcontinuing in his office about the Queen. "

CHAPTER V. 

At the period of his grandfather's death, Louis XVI. Began to beexceedingly attached to the Queen. The first period of so deep a mourningnot admitting of indulgence in the diversion of hunting, he proposed toher walks in the gardens of Choisy; they went out like husband and wife, the young King giving his arm to the Queen, and accompanied by a verysmall suite. The influence of this example had such an effect upon thecourtiers that the next day several couples, who had long, and for goodreasons, been disunited, were seen walking upon the terrace with the sameapparent conjugal intimacy. Thus they spent whole hours, braving theintolerable wearisomeness of their protracted tete-a-tetes, out of mereobsequious imitation. 

The devotion of Mesdames to the King their father throughout his dreadfulmalady had produced that effect upon their health which was generallyapprehended. On the fourth day after their arrival at Choisy they wereattacked by pains in the head and chest, which left no doubt as to thedanger of their situation. It became necessary instantly to send away theyoung royal family; and the Chateau de la Muette, in the Bois de Boulogne, was selected for their reception. Their arrival at that residence, whichwas very near Paris, drew so great a concourse of people into itsneighbourhood, that even at daybreak the crowd had begun to assemble roundthe gates. Shouts of "Vive le Roi!" were scarcely interrupted for amoment between six o'clock in the morning and sunset. The unpopularity thelate King, had drawn upon himself during his latter years, and the hopesto which a new reign gives birth, occasioned these transports of joy. 

A fashionable jeweller made a fortune by the sale of mourning snuff-boxes, whereon the portrait of the young Queen, in a black frame of shagreen, gave rise to the pun: "Consolation in chagrin. " All the fashions, andevery article of dress, received names expressing the spirit of themoment. Symbols of abundance were everywhere represented, and thehead-dresses of the ladies were surrounded by ears of wheat. Poets sang ofthe new monarch; all hearts, or rather all heads, in France were filledwith enthusiasm. Never did the commencement of any reign excite moreunanimous testimonials of love and attachment. It must be observed, however, that, amidst all this intoxication, the anti-Austrian party neverlost sight of the young Queen, but kept on the watch, with the maliciousdesire to injure her through such errors as might arise from her youth andinexperience. 

Their Majesties had to receive at La Muette the condolences of the ladieswho had been presented at Court, who all felt themselves called on to payhomage to the new sovereigns. Old and young hastened to presentthemselves on the day of general reception; little black bonnets withgreat wings, shaking heads, low curtsies, keeping time with the motions ofthe head, made, it must be admitted, a few venerable dowagers appearsomewhat ridiculous; but the Queen, who possessed a great deal of dignity, and a high respect for decorum, was not guilty of the grave fault oflosing the state she was bound to preserve. An indiscreet piece ofdrollery of one of the ladies of the palace, however, procured her theimputation of doing so. The Marquise de Clermont-Tonnerre, whose officerequired that she should continue standing behind the Queen, fatigued bythe length of the ceremony, seated herself on the floor, concealed behindthe fence formed by the hoops of the Queen and the ladies of the palace. Thus seated, and wishing to attract attention and to appear lively, shetwitched the dresses of those ladies, and played a thousand other tricks. The contrast of these childish pranks with the solemnity which reignedover the rest of the Queen's chamber disconcerted her Majesty: she severaltimes placed her fan before her face to hide an involuntary smile, and thesevere old ladies pronounced that the young Queen had decided all thoserespectable persons who were pressing forward to pay their homage to her;that she liked none but the young; that she was deficient in decorum; andthat not one of them would attend her Court again. The epithet 'moqueuse'was applied to her; and there is no epithet less favourably received inthe world. 

The next day a very ill-natured song was circulated; the stamp of theparty to which it was attributable might easily be seen upon it. Iremember only the following chorus:

"Little Queen, you must not beSo saucy, with your twenty years;Your ill-used courtiers soon will seeYou pass, once more, the barriers. Fal lal lal, fal lal la. "

The errors of the great, or those which ill-nature chooses to impute tothem, circulate in the world with the greatest rapidity, and becomehistorical traditions, which every one delights to repeat. 

More than fifteen years after this occurrence I heard some old ladies inthe most retired part of Auvergne relating all the particulars of the dayof public condolence for the late King, on which, as they said, the Queenhad laughed in the faces of the sexagenarian duchesses and princesses whohad thought it their duty to appear on the occasion. 

The King and the Princes, his brothers, determined to avail themselves ofthe advantages held out by inoculation, as a safeguard against the illnessunder which their grandfather had just fallen; but the utility of this newdiscovery not being then generally acknowledged in France, many personswere greatly alarmed at the step; those who blamed it openly threw all theresponsibility of it upon the Queen, who alone, they said, could haveventured to give such rash advice, inoculation being at this timeestablished in the Northern Courts. The operation upon the King and hisbrothers, performed by Doctor Jauberthou, was fortunately quitesuccessful. 

When the convalescence of the Princes was perfectly established, theexcursions to Marly became cheerful enough. Parties on horseback and incalashes were formed continually. The Queen was desirous to affordherself one very innocent gratification; she had never seen the day break;and having now no other consent than that of the King to seek, sheintimated her wish to him. He agreed that she should go, at three o'clockin the morning, to the eminences of the gardens of Marly; and, unfortunately, little disposed to partake in her amusements, he himselfwent to bed. Foreseeing some inconveniences possible in this nocturnalparty, the Queen determined on having a number of people with her; andeven ordered her waiting women to accompany her. All precautions wereineffectual to prevent the effects of calumny, which thenceforward soughtto diminish the general attachment that she had inspired. A few daysafterwards, the most wicked libel that appeared during the earlier yearsof her reign was circulated in Paris. The blackest colours were employedto paint an enjoyment so harmless that there is scarcely a young womanliving in the country who has not endeavoured to procure it for herself. The verses which appeared on this occasion were entitled "Sunrise. "

The Duc d'Orleans, then Duc de Chartres, was among those who accompaniedthe young Queen in her nocturnal ramble: he appeared very attentive to herat this epoch; but it was the only moment of his life in which there wasany advance towards intimacy between the Queen and himself. The Kingdisliked the character of the Duc de Chartres, and the Queen alwaysexcluded him from her private society. It is therefore without theslightest foundation that some writers have attributed to feelings ofjealousy or wounded self-love the hatred which he displayed towards theQueen during the latter years of their existence. 

It was on this first journey to Marly that Boehmer, the jeweller, appearedat Court, --a man whose stupidity and avarice afterwards fatally affectedthe happiness and reputation of Marie Antoinette. This person had, atgreat expense, collected six pear-formed diamonds of a prodigious size;they were perfectly matched and of the finest water. The earrings whichthey composed had, before the death of Louis XV. , been destined for theComtesse du Barry. 

Boehmer; by the recommendation of several persons about the Court, came tooffer these jewels to the Queen. He asked four hundred thousand francsfor them. The young Princess could not withstand her wish to purchasethem; and the King having just raised the Queen's income, which, under theformer reign, had been but two hundred thousand livres, to one hundredthousand crowns a year, she wished to make the purchase out of her ownpurse, and not burthen the royal treasury with the payment. She proposedto Boehmer to take off the two buttons which formed the tops of theclusters, as they could be replaced by two of her own diamonds. Heconsented, and then reduced the price of the earrings to three hundred andsixty thousand francs; the payment for which was to be made byinstalments, and was discharged in the course of four or five years by theQueen's first femme de chambre, deputed to manage the funds of her privypurse. I have omitted no details as to the manner in which the Queenfirst became possessed of these jewels, deeming them very needful to placein its true light the too famous circumstance of the necklace, whichhappened near the end of her reign. 

It was also on this first journey to Marly that the Duchesse de Chartres, afterwards Duchesse d'Orleans, introduced into the Queen's householdMademoiselle Bertin, a milliner who became celebrated at that time for thetotal change she effected in the dress of the French ladies. 

It may be said that the mere admission of a milliner into the house of theQueen was followed by evil consequences to her Majesty. The skill of themilliner, who was received into the household, in spite of the customwhich kept persons of her description out of it, afforded her theopportunity of introducing some new fashion every day. Up to this timethe Queen had shown very plain taste in dress; she now began to make it aprincipal occupation; and she was of course imitated by other women. 

All wished instantly to have the same dress as the Queen, and to wear thefeathers and flowers to which her beauty, then in its brilliancy, lent anindescribable charm. The expenditure of the younger ladies wasnecessarily much increased; mothers and husbands murmured at it; some fewgiddy women contracted debts; unpleasant domestic scenes occurred; in manyfamilies coldness or quarrels arose; and the general report was, --that theQueen would be the ruin of all the French ladies. 

Fashion continued its fluctuating progress; and head-dresses, with theirsuperstructures of gauze, flowers, and feathers, became so lofty that thewomen could not find carriages high enough to admit them; and they wereoften seen either stooping, or holding their heads out of the windows. Others knelt down in order to manage these elevated objects of ridiculewith less danger. 

[If the use of these extravagant feathers and head-dresses had continued, say the memoirs of that period very seriously, it would have effected arevolution in architecture. It would have been found necessary to raisethe doors and ceilings of the boxes at the theatre, and particularly thebodies of carriages. It was not without mortification that the Kingobserved the Queen's adoption of this style of dress: she was never solovely in his eyes as when unadorned by art. One day Carlin, performingat Court as harlequin, stuck in his hat, instead of the rabbit's tail, itsprescribed ornament, a peacock's feather of excessive length. This newappendage, which repeatedly got entangled among the scenery, gave him anopportunity for a great deal of buffoonery. There was some inclination topunish him; but it was presumed that he had not assumed the featherwithout authority. -NOTE BY THE EDITOR. ]

Innumerable caricatures, exhibited in all directions, and some of whichartfully gave the features of the Queen, attacked the extravagance offashion, but with very little effect. It changed only, as is always thecase, through the influence of inconstancy and time. 

The Queen's toilet was a masterpiece of etiquette; everything was done ina prescribed form. Both the dame d'honneur and the dame d'atours usuallyattended and officiated, assisted by the first femme de chambre and twoordinary women. The dame d'atours put on the petticoat, and handed thegown to the Queen. The dame d'honneur poured out the water for her handsand put on her linen. When a princess of the royal family happened to bepresent while the Queen was dressing, the dame d'honneur yielded to herthe latter act of office, but still did not yield it directly to thePrincesses of the blood; in such a case the dame d'honneur was accustomedto present the linen to the first femme de chambre, who, in her turn, handed it to the Princess of the blood. Each of these ladies observedthese rules scrupulously as affecting her rights. One winter's day ithappened that the Queen, who was entirely undressed, was just going to puton her shift; I held it ready unfolded for her; the dame d'honneur camein, slipped off her gloves, and took it. A scratching was heard at thedoor; it was opened, and in came the Duchesse d'Orleans: her gloves weretaken off, and she came forward to take the garment; but as it would havebeen wrong in the dame d'honneur to hand it to her she gave it to me, andI handed it to the Princess. More scratching it was Madame la Comtesse deProvence; the Duchesse d'Orleans handed her the linen. All this while theQueen kept her arms crossed upon her bosom, and appeared to feel cold;Madame observed her uncomfortable situation, and, merely laying down herhandkerchief without taking off her gloves, she put on the linen, and indoing so knocked the Queen's cap off. The Queen laughed to conceal herimpatience, but not until she had muttered several times, "Howdisagreeable! how tiresome!"

All this etiquette, however inconvenient, was suitable to the royaldignity, which expects to find servants in all classes of persons, beginning even with the brothers and sisters of the monarch. 

Speaking here of etiquette, I do not allude to majestic state, appointedfor days of ceremony in all Courts. I mean those minute ceremonies thatwere pursued towards our Kings in their inmost privacies, in their hoursof pleasure, in those of pain, and even during the most revolting of humaninfirmities. 

These servile rules were drawn up into a kind of code; they offered to aRichelieu, a La Rochefoucauld and a Duras, in the exercise of theirdomestic functions, opportunities of intimacy useful to their interests;and their vanity was flattered by customs which converted the right togive a glass of water, to put on a dress, and to remove a basin, intohonourable prerogatives. 

Princes thus accustomed to be treated as divinities naturally ended bybelieving that they were of a distinct nature, of a purer essence than therest of mankind. 

This sort of etiquette, which led our Princes to be treated in private asidols, made them in public martyrs to decorum. Marie Antoinette found inthe Chateau of Versailles a multitude of established customs whichappeared to her insupportable. 

The ladies-in-waiting, who were all obliged to be sworn, and to wear fullCourt dresses, were alone entitled to remain in the room, and to attend inconjunction with the dame d'honneur and the tirewoman. The Queenabolished all this formality. When her head was dressed, she curtsied toall the ladies who were in her chamber, and, followed only by her ownwomen, went into her closet, where Mademoiselle Bertin, who could not beadmitted into the chamber, used to await her. It was in this inner closetthat she produced her new and numerous dresses. The Queen was alsodesirous of being served by the most fashionable hairdresser in Paris. Now the custom which forbade all persons in inferior offices, employed byroyalty, to exert their talents for the public, was no doubt intended tocut off all communication between the privacy of princes and society atlarge; the latter being always extremely curious respecting the mosttrifling particulars relative to the private life of the former. TheQueen, fearing that the taste of the hairdresser would suffer if he shoulddiscontinue the general practice of his art, ordered him to attend asusual certain ladies of the Court and of Paris; and this multiplied theopportunities of learning details respecting the household, and very oftenof misrepresenting them. 

One of the customs most disagreeable to the Queen was that of dining everyday in public. Maria Leczinska had always submitted to this wearisomepractice; Marie Antoinette followed it as long as she was Dauphiness. TheDauphin dined with her, and each branch of the family had its publicdinner daily. The ushers suffered all decently dressed people to enter;the sight was the delight of persons from the country. At the dinner-hourthere were none to be met upon the stairs but honest folks, who, afterhaving seen the Dauphiness take her soup, went to see the Princes eattheir 'bouilli', and then ran themselves out of breath to behold Mesdamesat their dessert. 

Very ancient usage, too, required that the Queens of France should appearin public surrounded only by women; even at meal-times no persons of theother sex attended to serve at table; and although the King ate publiclywith the Queen, yet he himself was served by women with everything whichwas presented to him directly at table. The dame d'honneur, kneeling, forher own accommodation, upon a low stool, with a napkin upon her arm, andfour women in full dress, presented the plates to the King and Queen. Thedame d'honneur handed them drink. This service had formerly been theright of the maids of honour. The Queen, upon her accession to thethrone, abolished the usage altogether. She also freed herself from thenecessity of being followed in the Palace of Versailles by two of herwomen in Court dresses, during those hours of the day when theladies-in-waiting were not with her. From that time she was accompaniedonly by a single valet de chambre and two footmen. All the changes madeby Marie Antoinette were of the same description; a disposition graduallyto substitute the simple customs of Vienna for those of Versailles wasmore injurious to her than she could possibly have imagined. 

When the King slept in the Queen's apartment he always rose before her;the exact hour was communicated to the head femme de chambre, who entered, preceded by a servant of the bedchamber bearing a taper; she crossed theroom and unbolted the door which separated the Queen's apartment from thatof the King. She there found the first valet de chambre for the quarter, and a servant of the chamber. They entered, opened the bed curtains onthe King's side, and presented him slippers generally, as well as thedressing-gown, which he put on, of gold or silver stuff. The first valetde chambre took down a short sword which was always laid within therailing on the King's side. When the King slept with the Queen, thissword was brought upon the armchair appropriated to the King, and whichwas placed near the Queen's bed, within the gilt railing which surroundedthe bed. The first femme de chambre conducted the King to the door, bolted it again, and, leaving the Queen's chamber, did not return untilthe hour appointed by her Majesty the evening before. At night the Queenwent to bed before the King; the first femme de chambre remained seated atthe foot of her bed until the arrival of his Majesty, in order, as in themorning, to see the King's attendants out and bolt the door after them. The Queen awoke habitually at eight o'clock, and breakfasted at nine, frequently in bed, and sometimes after she had risen, at a table placedopposite her couch. 

In order to describe the Queen's private service intelligibly, it must berecollected that service of every kind was honour, and had not any otherdenomination. To do the honours of the service was to present the serviceto a person of superior rank, who happened to arrive at the moment it wasabout to be performed. Thus, supposing the Queen asked for a glass ofwater, the servant of the chamber handed to the first woman a silver giltwaiter, upon which were placed a covered goblet and a small decanter; butshould the lady of honour come in, the first woman was obliged to presentthe waiter to her, and if Madame or the Comtesse d'Artois came in at themoment, the waiter went again from the lady of honour into the hands ofthe Princess before it reached the Queen. It must be observed, however, that if a princess of the blood instead of a princess of the familyentered, the service went directly from the first woman to the princess ofthe blood, the lady of honour being excused from transferring to any butprincesses of the royal family. Nothing was presented directly to theQueen; her handkerchief or her gloves were placed upon a long salver ofgold or silver gilt, which was placed as a piece of furniture of ceremonyupon a side-table, and was called a gantiere. The first woman presentedto her in this manner all that she asked for, unless the tirewoman, thelady of honour, or a princess were present, and then the gradation pointedout in the instance of the glass of water was always observed. 

Whether the Queen breakfasted in bed or up, those entitled to the petitesentrees were equally admitted; this privilege belonged of right to herchief physician, chief surgeon, physician in ordinary, reader, closetsecretary, the King's four first valets de chambre and their reversioners, and the King's chief physicians and surgeons. There were frequently fromten to twelve persons at this first entree. The lady of honour or thesuperintendent, if present, placed the breakfast equipage upon the bed;the Princesse de Lamballe frequently performed that office. 

As soon as the Queen rose, the wardrobe woman was admitted to take awaythe pillows and prepare the bed to be made by some of the valets dechambre. She undrew the curtains, and the bed was not generally madeuntil the Queen was gone to mass. Generally, excepting at St. Cloud, where the Queen bathed in an apartment below her own, a slipper bath wasrolled into her room, and her bathers brought everything that wasnecessary for the bath. The Queen bathed in a large gown of Englishflannel buttoned down to the bottom; its sleeves throughout, as well asthe collar, were lined with linen. When she came out of the bath thefirst woman held up a cloth to conceal her entirely from the sight of herwomen, and then threw it over her shoulders. The bathers wrapped her init and dried her completely. She then put on a long and wide openchemise, entirely trimmed with lace, and afterwards a white taffetybed-gown. The wardrobe woman warmed the bed; the slippers were of dimity, trimmed with lace. Thus dressed, the Queen went to bed again, and thebathers and servants of the chamber took away the bathing apparatus. TheQueen, replaced in bed, took a book or her tapestry work. On her bathingmornings she breakfasted in the bath. The tray was placed on the cover ofthe bath. These minute details are given here only to do justice to theQueen's scrupulous modesty. Her temperance was equally remarkable; shebreakfasted on coffee or chocolate; at dinner ate nothing but white meat, drank water only, and supped on broth, a wing of a fowl, and smallbiscuits, which she soaked in a glass of water. 

The tirewoman had under her order a principal under-tirewoman, chargedwith the care and preservation of all the Queen's dresses; two women tofold and press such articles as required it; two valets, and a porter ofthe wardrobe. The latter brought every morning into the Queen'sapartments baskets covered with taffety, containing all that she was towear during the day, and large cloths of green taffety covering the robesand the full dresses. The valet of the wardrobe on duty presented everymorning a large book to the first femme de chambre, containing patterns ofthe gowns, full dresses, undresses, etc. Every pattern was marked, toshow to which sort it belonged. The first femme de chambre presented thisbook to the Queen on her awaking, with a pincushion; her Majesty stuckpins in those articles which she chose for the day, --one for the dress, one for the afternoon-undress, and one for the full evening dress for cardor supper parties in the private apartments. The book was then taken backto the wardrobe, and all that was wanted for the day was soon afterbrought in in large taffety wrappers. The wardrobe woman, who had thecare of the linen, in her turn brought in a covered basket containing twoor three chemises and handkerchiefs. The morning basket was called pretdu jour. In the evening she brought in one containing the nightgown andnightcap, and the stockings for the next morning; this basket was calledpret de la nuit. They were in the department of the lady of honour, thetirewoman having nothing to do with the linen. Nothing was put in orderor taken care of by the Queen's women. As soon as the toilet was over, the valets and porter belonging to the wardrobe were called in, and theycarried all away in a heap, in the taffety wrappers, to the tirewoman'swardrobe, where all were folded up again, hung up, examined, and cleanedwith so much regularity and care that even the cast-off clothes scarcelylooked as if they had been worn. The tirewoman's wardrobe consisted ofthree large rooms surrounded with closets, some furnished with drawers andothers with shelves; there were also large tables in each of these rooms, on which the gowns and dresses were spread out and folded up. 

For the winter the Queen had generally twelve full dresses, twelveundresses called fancy dresses, and twelve rich hoop petticoats for thecard and supper parties in the smaller apartments. 

She had as many for the summer; those for the spring served likewise forthe autumn. All these dresses were discarded at the end of each season, unless, indeed, she retained some that she particularly liked. I am notspeaking of muslin or cambric gowns, or others of the same kind--they werelately introduced; but such as these were not renewed at each returningseason, they were kept several years. The chief women were charged withthe care and examination of the diamonds; this important duty was formerlyconfided to the tirewoman, but for many years had been included in thebusiness of the first femmes de chambre. 

The public toilet took place at noon. The toilet-table was drawn forwardinto the middle of the room. This piece of furniture was generally therichest and most ornamented of all in the apartment of the Princesses. TheQueen used it in the same manner and place for undressing herself in theevening. She went to bed in corsets trimmed with ribbon, and sleevestrimmed with lace, and wore a large neck handkerchief. The Queen'scombing cloth was presented by her first woman if she was alone at thecommencement of the toilet; or, as well as the other articles, by theladies of honour if they were come. At noon the women who had been inattendance four and twenty hours were relieved by two women in full dress;the first woman went also to dress herself. The grandee entrees wereadmitted during the toilet; sofas were placed in circles for thesuperintendent, the ladies of honour, and tirewomen, and the governess ofthe children of France when she came there; the duties of the ladies ofthe bedchamber, having nothing to do with any kind of domestic or privatefunctions, did not begin until the hour of going out to mass; they waitedin the great closet, and entered when the toilet was over. The Princes ofthe blood, captains of the Guards, and all great officers having the entrypaid their court at the hour of the toilet. The Queen saluted by noddingher head or bending her body, or leaning upon her toilet-table as ifmoving to rise; the last mode of salutation was for the Princes of theblood. The King's brothers also came very generally to pay their respectsto her Majesty while her hair was being dressed. In the earlier years ofthe reign the first part of the dressing was performed in the bedchamberand according to the laws of etiquette; that is to say, the lady of honourput on the chemise and poured out the water for the hands, the tirewomanput on the skirt of the gown or full dress, adjusted the handkerchief, andtied on the necklace. But when the young Queen became more seriouslydevoted to fashion, and the head-dress attained so extravagant a heightthat it became necessary to put on the chemise from below, --when, inshort, she determined to have her milliner, Mademoiselle Benin, with herwhilst she was dressing, whom the ladies would have refused to admit toany share in the honour of attending on the Queen, the dressing in thebedchamber was discontinued, and the Queen, leaving her toilet, withdrewinto her closet to dress. 

On returning into her chamber, the Queen, standing about the middle of it, surrounded by the superintendent, the ladies of honour and tirewomen, herladies of the palace, the chevalier d'honneur, the chief equerry, herclergy ready to attend her to mass, and the Princesses of the royal familywho happened to come, accompanied by all their chief attendants andladies, passed in order into the gallery as in going to mass. The Queen'ssignatures were generally given at the moment of entry into the chamber. The secretary for orders presented the pen. Presentations of colonels ontaking leave were usually made at this time. Those of ladies, and, suchas had a right to the tabouret, or sitting in the royal presence, weremade on Sunday evenings before card-playing began, on their coming in frompaying their respects. Ambassadors were introduced to the Queen onTuesday mornings, accompanied by the introducer of ambassadors on duty, and by M. De Sequeville, the secretary for the ambassadors. Theintroducer in waiting usually came to the Queen at her toilet to appriseher of the presentations of foreigners which would be made. The usher ofthe chamber, stationed at the entrance, opened the folding doors to nonebut the Princes and Princesses of the royal family, and announced themaloud. Quitting his post, he came forward to name to the lady of honourthe persons who came to be presented, or who came to take leave; that ladyagain named them to the Queen at the moment they saluted her; if she andthe tirewoman were absent, the first woman took the place and did thatduty. The ladies of the bedchamber, chosen solely as companions for theQueen, had no domestic duties to fulfil, however opinion might dignifysuch offices. The King's letter in appointing them, among otherinstructions of etiquette, ran thus: "having chosen you to bear the Queencompany. " There were hardly any emoluments accruing from this place. 

The Queen heard mass with the King in the tribune, facing the grand altarand the choir, with the exception of the days of high ceremony, when theirchairs were placed below upon velvet carpets fringed with gold. These dayswere marked by the name of grand chapel day. 

The Queen named the collector beforehand, and informed her of it throughher lady of honour, who was besides desired to send the purse to her. Thecollectors were almost always chosen from among those who had beenrecently presented. After returning from mass the Queen dined everySunday with the King only, in public in the cabinet of the nobility, aroom leading to her chamber. Titled ladies having the honours sat duringthe dinner upon folding-chairs placed on each side of the table. Ladieswithout titles stood round the table; the captain of the Guards and thefirst gentleman of the chamber were behind the King's chair; behind thatof the Queen were her first maitre d'hotel, her chevalier d'honneur, andthe chief equerry. The Queen's maitre d'hotel was furnished with a largestaff, six or seven feet in length, ornamented with golden fleurs-de-lis, and surmounted by fleurs-de-lis in the form of a crown. He entered theroom with this badge of his office to announce that the Queen was served. The comptroller put into his hands the card of the dinner; in the absenceof the maitre d'hotel he presented it to the Queen himself, otherwise heonly did him the honours of the service. The maitre d'hotel did not leavehis place, he merely gave the orders for serving up and removing; thecomptroller and gentlemen serving placed the various dishes upon thetable, receiving them from the inferior servants. 

The Prince nearest to the crown presented water to wash the King's handsat the moment he placed himself at table, and a princess did the sameservice to the Queen. 

The table service was formerly performed for the Queen by the lady ofhonour and four women in full dress; this part of the women's service wastransferred to them on the suppression of the office of maids of honour. The Queen put an end to this etiquette in the first year of her reign. When the dinner was over the Queen returned without the King to herapartment with her women, and took off her hoop and train. 

This unfortunate Princess, against whom the opinions of the French peoplewere at length so much excited, possessed qualities which deserved toobtain the greatest popularity. None could doubt this who, like myself, had heard her with delight describe the patriarchal manners of the Houseof Lorraine. She was accustomed to say that, by transplanting theirmanners into Austria, the Princes of that house had laid the foundation ofthe unassailable popularity enjoyed by the imperial family. Shefrequently related to me the interesting manner in which the Ducs deLorraine levied the taxes. "The sovereign Prince, " said she, "went tochurch; after the sermon he rose, waved his hat in the air, to show thathe was about to speak, and then mentioned the sum whereof he stood inneed. Such was the zeal of the good Lorrainers that men have been knownto take away linen or household utensils without the knowledge of theirwives, and sell them to add the value to their contribution. It sometimeshappened, too, that the Prince received more money than he had asked for, in which case he restored the surplus. "

All who were acquainted with the Queen's private qualities knew that sheequally deserved attachment and esteem. Kind and patient to excess in herrelations with her household, she indulgently considered all around her, and interested herself in their fortunes and in their pleasures. , She had, among her women, young girls from the Maison de St. Cyr, all well born;the Queen forbade them the play when the performances were not suitable;sometimes, when old plays were to be represented, if she found she couldnot with certainty trust to her memory, she would take the trouble to readthem in the morning, to enable her to decide whether the girls should orshould not go to see them, --rightly considering herself bound to watchover their morals and conduct. 

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Carried the idea of the prerogative of rank to a high pitchCommon and blamable practice of indulgenceDignified tone which alone secures the respect due to powerEtiquette still existed at Court, dignity alone was wantingHappiness does not dwell in palacesHis seraglio in the Parc-aux-CerfsI love the conveniences of life too wellLeave me in peace; be assured that I can put no heir in dangerMost intriguing little Carmelite in the kingdomPrinces thus accustomed to be treated as divinitiesPrincess at 12 years was not mistress of the whole alphabetTaken pains only to render himself beloved by his pupilThe Jesuits were suppressedThe King delighted to manage the most disgraceful pointsTo be formally mistress, a husband had to be foundVentured to give such rash advice: inoculationWas but one brilliant action that she could perform