river, and the fountains were flowing with wine.
“All in your honour, my dear, and that of your husband.” Then I should certainly be there to see it,” I replied.
“But unrecognised She laughed that odd braying laugh.
“It would not be in accordance with etiquette for the people to see me before I am formally introduced to them.”
“It would certainly not be. So tonight we are two noblewomen come to see the people enjoy themselves.”
As we came nearer to the city, the sky was suddenly illuminated with fireworks, for it was not dark. I exclaimed in wonder, for I had never seen such a beautiful display. We were almost at the Place Louis XV—which I did not know then—when our escort stopped abruptly. Our carriage pulled up with a jerk. I was aware of screams and shouting; I vaguely saw a mass of people and I had no idea what this meant. The driver turned our carriage; and, the bodyguard surrounding us, we started back with great speed the way we had come.
“What is it?” I asked.
Madame Adelaide did not answer. She was frightened and she did not say a word as we raced back to Versailles.
The next day I learned what had happened. Some of the fireworks had exploded and started a fire; a fireman’s cart coming into the square met a crowd of people and carriages hurrying from the fire; another crowd was rushing into the square to see what was happening; nothing could move; the congestion was complete. Forty thousand people were held up in the Rue Royale, the Rue de la Bonne-Morue and the Rue Saint-Florenrin.
There was a panic. Many people fell and were trampled on; carriages toppled over; horses tried to break free. People were climbing over the bodies of those who had fallen in a vain endeavour to escape, and many were trampled to death: There were terrible stories of that night.
Everyone was talking about the disaster. The Dauphin came into our bedchamber; he was deeply shocked and this made him seem older, more alive. He told me that one hundred and thirty-two people had been killed on the previous night.
I felt the tears in my eyes and he looked at me and did not turn away quickly as he always had before.
“It’s my fault,” I said.
“If I hadn’t come here it would not have happened.”
He continued to look at me.
“I must do what I can to help,” he said.
“Oh yes,” I answered fervently.
“Please do.”
He sat down at a table and began to write and I went and looked over his shoulder.
“I have learned of the disaster,” he wrote, and I noticed how swiftly his pen glided over the paper, ‘which came to Paris on my account. I am deeply distressed and I send you the sum which the King gives me each month for my private expenses. It is all I have to give.
I want it to help those who have been most badly hurt. “
He lifted his eyes to my face and touched my hand—just for a moment.
“It is the least I can do,” he said.
The disaster was talked of long afterwards. It was another of those omens. There was the storm which had spoilt the wedding-day celebrations; the blot I had made when signing my name; and then this great calamity when the people of Paris had come in their thousands to celebrate the wedding and had met death and disaster.
The Battle of Words
Don’t meddle in politics or interfere in other people’s affairs. You must not take this disappointment too much to heart. Never be peevish. Be tender but by no means demanding. If you caress your husband, do so in moderation. If you show impatience you could make matters worse.
Listen to no secrets and have no curiosity. I am sorry to have to say.
Confide nothing—even to your aunts.
To refrain from showing civility towards persons whom the King has chosen as members of his own circle is derogatory to that circle, and all persons must be regarded as members of it whom the monarch looks upon as his confidants, no one being entitled to ask whether he is right or wrong in doing so.
The dread and embarrassment you are showing about speaking to persons you are advised to speak to is both ridiculous and childish. What a storm about a quick word . , . you have allowed yourself to become enslaved and your duty can no longer persuade you.
I trust you will be satisfied. You may be sure that I will always sacrifice my personal prejudices as long as nothing is asked of me which goes against my honour.
Choisy’
“Madame, my very dear Mother, ” I cannot express how much I am affected by Your Majesty’s kindness and I assure you that I have not yet received one of your dear letters without tears of regret filling my eyes at being parted from such a kind mother; and although I am very happy here, I should earnestly wish to return to see my dear, very dear, family, if only for a short time.
“We have been here since yesterday and from one o’clock in the afternoon, when we dine, until one in the morning we cannot return to our apartments, which is very disagreeable to me. After dinner we have cards till six; then we go to the play rill half past nine; then supper; then cards again until one o’clock, sometimes even half past one. Only yesterday the King, seeing that I was tired out, kindly dismissed me at eleven to my great satisfaction, and I slept very well rill half past ten.
“Your Majesty is very kind to show interest in me even to the extent of how I spend my rime habitually when at Versailles. I will say, therefore, that I rise at ten o’clock or nine, and after dressing, I say my prayers; then I breakfast, after which I go to my aunts’ where I usually meet the King. This lasts rill half past ten. At eleven I go to have my hair dressed. At noon the Chambre is called and anyone of sufficient rank may come in. I put on my rouge and wash my hands before everyone; then the gentlemen go out; the ladies stay and I dress before them all. At twelve is Mass; and when the King is at Versailles I go to Mass with him and my husband and the aunts; if he is not there I go with Monsieur Ie Dauphin, but always at the same hour. After Mass we dine together but it is over by half past one, as we both eat quickly. I then go to Monsieur Ie Dauphin. If he is busy, I return to my own apartments where I read, write or work, for I am embroidering a vest for the King, which does not get on very quickly, but I trust that, with God’s help, it will be finished in a few years. At three I go to my aunts’ where the King usually comes at that rime. At four the Abbe comes to me; at five the master for the harpsichord, or the singing master rill six. You must know that my husband frequently comes with me to the aunts’. At seven, card playing rill nine; and when the weather is fine I go out, and then the card playing takes place in my aunts’ apartment instead of mine. At nine, supper; when the King is absent my aunts come to take supper with us; if the King is there we go
