knew that the King himself as well as my mother had a said that I should not ride a horse, and I was suddenly J ashamed. I agreed that I would not canter or gallop and I would allow the equerry to hold the bridle while I walked the horse. But what joy it was to be really on horseback once’ morel I forgot how disobedient I was being and I found; the tears of laughter in my eyes when I thought of what Mercy’s face would be like if he could see me.
I mentioned this to one of my attendants and they all;
joined in my laughter. It was such fun—and then we went back to where one of the attendants was waiting with the donkey and I rode it solemnly back to the Palace while the equerry galloped off with the horse. I One of those attendants who had accompanied me and laughed with me hastened to tell Mercy what had happened and when he presented himself at my apartments Is knew from his stem lories that he had discovered my deception. He was pained and grieved. I blurted out: “So you know I have been riding a horse?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I was going to tell you,” I said, and added defensively:
“Those who saw me were pleased that I had had such pleasure.”
“I should be mortified,” he replied in his solemn way, ‘if you believed that I should join those who were delighted. As I am deeply concerned with your affairs I can only be grieved that something should have happened which could be injurious to you and would give great displeasure to me Empress. “
I was frightened as always at the thought of my mother. I said quickly: “I should be desolate if I thought I had grieved the Empress.
But as you know riding is the Dauphin’s favourite exercise. Should I not therefore follow something which gives him such pleasure? “
Mercy did not reply to this, but merely remarked that he would retire and leave me to contemplate what I had done.
I wished I hadn’t done it and I was sorry; then I grew angry. It was all so silly. Why should I not ride a horse if I wanted to?
But I was very upset. One thing remained clear in my giddy mind and that was that my mother cared for my wellbeing as no one else on earth did; and she had as much power to alarm me here in France as she had in Vienna. She was, of course, informed of what I had done; she wrote back, pained that I had acted so. She conceded that the King and the Dauphin had both given their consent to my riding and that they must ‘dispose of all concerning you,” but she was very displeased.
“I shall say no more,” she finished her letter, ‘and shall try not to think about it. “
She must have heard what part the aunts played in this because she was soon afterwards warning me against them.
“Keep a neutral position in everything. I desire you to be more reserved than ever as regards what is going on.
Listen, to no secrets and have no curiosity. I am sorry to have to say. Confide nothing—even to your aunts, whom I esteem so much. I have my reasons for saying this. “
She had very good reason. Probably more than she at that time realised.
A year after I was married my brother-in-law Provence was given a wife. She arrived at Versailles in May—as I had-Marie Josephe of Savoy. I disliked her on sight, she was very ugly and completely lacking in charm; and this was not only my opinion. Provence was very disappointed in her; and everyone made comparisons between her and myself, which came to her ears and enraged her. I knew that she hated me, although she was always anxious to pretend that she did not, for she was rather clever.
I was indifferent to her attitude towards me because I had made a friend of the Princesse de Lamballe whom I found kind and gentle—though the Abbe Vermond said she was stupid, because he did not want me to be too friendly with anyone other than himself. I defended the Princesse to him.
“She has a good reputation,” I said, “which cannot be said for everyone at this Court.”
“She could lose that reputation tomorrow,” he retorted, ‘but her reputation for stupidity grows every day! ” I laughed with him, for we were on very friendly terms. I There was another friend I made, and although he did not like her either, he could not complain of her stupidity. This was Jeanne Louise Henriette Genet, the lectrice who worked for my aunts. I had seen her often in my aunts’ apartments and I had been attracted by her quiet ways and her rather severe looks. It was the attraction of opposites.
I sensed that although she had a great respect for my aunts, and for me too, in addition she liked me.
I asked the King if I might share my aunts’ lectrice and he said yes, immediately. So I used to have Mademoiselle Genet in my apartments so that she might read to me; but I preferred to talk to her, for she had such stories to tell of the Court that I do believe I learned more from her than I had so far from anyone else. She was only three years older than I but she seemed at least ten, so demure, so serious was she. I was sure my mother would have approved of her. Sometimes I used to think that nice sensible Jeanne Louise would have been a much better daughter for my mother than I was. Her father had been employed by the Foreign Office and so had come to the notice of the Due de Choiseui; and thus Jeanne Louise had been given her place at Court. She had been a studious child who had astonished everyone by her learning; and one of her greatest assets was her voice, which was clear; and another was her ability to read aloud for hours at a time. Thus she became lectrice to my aunts.
She was fifteen when she came to Court and I loved to hear of her first impressions. I would lure her away from the book and say: “Come now. Mademoiselle Lectrice, I would have you talk to me.”
She would demurely shut the book and look very guilty; but I knew she liked to talk as much as I did.
“Tell me about the first day you came to Court,” I said one day, and she told me how she went into her father’s study to say goodbye to him and how he wept to see her in her Court attire.
“I was wearing right stays for the first time and a long dress with panniers. My pale face was smeared with rouge and powder, which was necessary as part of Court custom even for one as humble as I.”
“Etiquette,” I murmured; and I laughed at her, for my free and easy manners shocked her.
“My father is a very wise man. I realise that now more than I did before. He said to me: ” The Princesses will make full use of your talents. Great people know how to bestow praise graciously, but do not allow their compliments to elate you too much. Be on your guard.
Whenever you receive flattering attentions, you may be sure you will gain an enemy. I swear that if I had been able to find an other profession for you, I would never have abandoned you to the dangers of Court life”.”
She had a way with words which I found fascinating. She talked of the day of her arrival, when the Court was in mourning for Queen Marie Leczinska, and how in the court yard were coaches with horses waving their great black plumes, and pages and footmen with their spangled black shoulder knots. The state apartments were hung with black cloth, and canopies decorated with sable plumes had been placed over the armchairs.
She made me see a new picture of the King.
“He was the most imposing figure I had ever seen, and his eyes remained fixed on you all the time he was speaking.” I nodded, agreeing with her.
“Notwithstanding the beauty of his features he inspired a sort of fear.”
“I felt no fear,” I said impulsively.
She smiled her slow calm smile.
“You are the Dauphine, Madame. I am the lectrice ” Did he speak to you? “
Tes, on two occasions. One morning when he was going out to the hunt I was in Mesdames’ apartments and he came to see Madame Victoire and asked me where Coche was. I was bewildered, for I did not know of the nicknames he used for Mesdames. Then he asked my name, and when I told him he said: “Oh, you are the lectrice I am assured you are learned and understand five languages.”
“Only two, Sire,” I answered.
“Which?”
he asked.
“English and Italian, f Sire.”
“Fluently?”
“Yes, Sire.” Then he burst out laughing J and said: “It is enough to drive a husband mad.” All his J retinue laughed at me and I was overcome with confusion. ” j ” It was not very kind of him,” I said. I studied her. She I could scarcely be called pretty in her plain dress, and’ll supposed he had not found her attractive.
On another day when she was reading to the aunts he came to see them.
