“You must not be in too much of a hurry, for increasing his uneasiness will only make matters worse On one occasion she wrote:
“You must not take this disappointment too much to heart. You must never show it. 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. “
Not only the court of France but all the courts of Europe seemed to be discussing the inability of the Dauphin to consummate our marriage.
They were saying he was impotent and that if a girl as attractive as I was could not rouse him, the case was hopeless.
It was tremendously embarrassing for us both. I clung to my childishness, trying not to understand even when I did, playing with my dogs, dancing when I could, trying to pretend I-did not know there was anything strange about our marriage. My husband’s method was to feign indifference which I knew he did not feel. His defence was to pretend to be bored, to shut himself up with his locksmith and builder friends; he hunted whenever possible and would eat heartily as though all he cared about were these things. But I did discover that he was as uneasy as I was more so, because he was more serious and the fault was his; and during the past months he had begun to show me in a him dred little ways how sorry he was that he was not a good husband. He was anxious to please me, and although his tastes were in exact opposition to my own he never tried to stop my doing what I liked.
I was growing quite fond of him and I believed he was of me. But this hateful situation was between us. Had we been two lusty lovers we should have been smiled at indulgently; as it was, the secrets of our bedchamber were the concern of Europe. Envoys were going back and forth from Versailles to Sardinia and Prussia as well as to Austria.
In the streets, songs were being sung about us.
“Can he or can’t he?”
“Has he or hasn’t he?” If my husband’s infirmity were due to some mental conflict this was enough to prevent his ever overcoming it.
My mother reiterated that I was to keep her informed of every detail.
I was to report everything the Dauphin said or did. I was to read her letters and bum them when I had done so. I knew that I was surrounded by spies, and the chief of these was my husband’s tutor, the Due de Vauguyon, who was a friend of Madame du Barry. Once when I was alone with my husband, one of the servants who was in the room suddenly opened the door and there was the Due bending down; his ear had obviously been at the keyhole. I think the servant may have been trying to warn us. I remarked to Louis how inconvenient it was, having people listening at our doors. The Due de Vauguyon was very embarrassed and muttered some excuse; but I don’t think Louis ever had such a high opinion of him again.
It was not in my nature to brood on my position. I wanted to enjoy myself. There was nothing I liked so much as riding, but horses had been forbidden, because my mother thought that violent riding might make me sterile. As if I had a chance to be otherwise! And she and Mercy had decided that they would ask the King to give an order that I should not ride.
This was a great blow to me. I wanted to shout that I was bored at the French Court, that when I was riding with the wind in my face and my hair free from those pins with which the hairdresser tortured me, I was happy.
I went to the King; I was my most appealing; I called him Dear Papa and I told him how unhappy I was because I was being prevented from riding.
He was perplexed. I should have known that he found this kind of situation irritating and hated to be asked to make a decision which was going to offend anyone, particularly a pretty girl. But he gave no sign of this. He was all smiles and sympathy. How was I to know that he was inwardly yawning at my childish problems and wishing me far away? He laid his hand on my shoulder and explained very tenderly that my mother did not wish me to ride horses. Did I not wish to please my mother?
“Oh yes, dear Papa, I do indeed … but I cannot bear not to ride.”
They consider that horses are too dangerous, and I have agreed that you shall not ride them. ” He lifted his hands and his face was illumined by that charming smile which in spite of the pouches under his eyes and the countless wrinkles made him still handsome.
“They did not mention donkeys.” He had the solution.
“No horses … but ride a donkey for a while.”
So I rode donkeys, which I found humiliating.
Nevertheless once I fell from the saddle. It was a foolish incident really. The donkey was stationary and I was sitting loosely; he turned sharply and the next thing I knew was that I was on the ground. I was not in the least hurt, but my attendants were very concerned and they all hurried to me; but I lay there laughing at them.
“Do not touch me!” I cried.
“I am not hurt in the least. I am not even shaken. It was the silliest tumble.” “Will you not allow us to help you rise, then?”
Certainly not. You must call Madame Etiquette. You see, I am not quite sure what ceremonies should be observed when a Dauphine falls from a donkey. “
They all laughed and we resumed our ride very gaily;
but of course the incident was reported. My mother heard of it. She was very hurt that I was riding even donkeys and I know now that she feared she was losing her influence over me. This was no wish for power on her part; it was due to a deep understanding of her daughter’s character and a terrible fear as to what would become of her. She saw me as an innocent lamb among the wolves of Prance and she was, as usual, right.
She wrote to me:
“I hear you are riding a donkey. I have told you I do not care for this equestrian activity. It will do more harm even than spoiling your complexion and your figure.”
When I read the letter I was sorry I had displeased her and I vowed I would not ride again until I had her per mission to do so which would be when I was a little older, when I was a true wife, when I had shown that I could bear children. (How it all came back to this! ) But I soon forgot, and a few days later I was out on my donkey again.
I was seeing a great deal of the aunts, who made much of me. Adelaide was always angry about something. She had to have a cause to fight for and she would take up the least little thing. Madame du Barry was her great target;but when she heard that I had been forbidden to ride a horse she turned her attention to this.
It is ridiculous !’ she declared.
“Not ride a horse! Every one must ride a horse. A donkey for the Dauphine of France! It is an insult.”
Victoire nodded and Sophie joined in a few seconds later.
“It is our enemies who have arranged this,” said Adelaide darkly.
I was going to point out that it was my mother who had forbidden it and
that Mercy and the King supported her. I could hardly call these my enemies. But Adelaide never listened when she had a cause to fight for. I was not going to be illused. I was not going to be humiliated. She and her sisters were my champions and she had a plan.
The plan was that I should ride out on my donkey as usual. An equerry with a horse would have been sent out and I should meet them at a spot to be decided on. Then I should dismount from the donkey, mount the horse, got for my ride, and then come back to the spot where the-j donkey would be waiting for me, mount the donkey and trot back to the Palace. It was very simple.
And it will outwit them all! ” cried Adelaide triumphantly.
I hesitated.
“It would displease my mother.”
“How should she know?”
“All the same, I do not want to go against her wishes!
“She is far off in Vienna. She does not know that you. are a figure of fun here … riding your donkey.” They persuaded me and there was a great deal of conf spiratorial whispering; and in due course I rode out withf some of my attendants and met the equerry who had the horse waiting for me. They were all rather afraid because they
