now I was a Queen. We were all truly grief-stricken, and it would have needed very little to set us all sobbing. Louis was the most unhappy of us all and I remembered that remark of his about feeling that the universe was about to fall upon him. Poor Louis ! He looked as though it were already falling.
But in truth how superficial our grief was! We were all so young.
Nineteen is very young to be a Queen and a frivolous one at that.
Perhaps I make excuses; but I could never sustain an emotion for long particularly grief. Marie Therese made some comment and her odd pronunciation set my lips twitching. I looked at Artois he was smiling too. We couldn’t help it. It seemed so funny. And then suddenly we were laughing. It may have been hysterical laughter, but it was laughter none the less; and after that the solemnity of death seemed to have receded.
They were busy days at Choisy, particularly for Louis. He had put on new stature, was more dignified and, although modest, he had the air of a King. He was so earnestly eager to do what he believed to be right, so deeply conscious of his great responsibility.
I wished that I had been cleverer so that I could have been of some use to him; but I did immediately think of the Due de Choiseui, who should be recalled. He had been a friend of mine and a friend of Austria and I was certain that my mother would wish me to use my influence with my husband to have him brought back.
It was indeed a new man I discovered at Choisy, for when I mentioned the Due de Choiseui a stubborn expression crossed his face.
I never cared for the fellow,” he said.
“He was responsible for making our marriage.”
He smiled at me tenderly.
“That would have come about without him.”
“He is very clever, I have heard.”
“My father did not like him. There was a rumour that he was involved in his death.”
“Involved in your father’s death, Louis? But how?”
“He poisoned him.”
“You can’t believe that! Not of Monsieur de Choiseui I’ ” At least he failed in his duty to my father. ” He smiled at me.
“You should not concern yourself with these matters.”
“I want to help you, Louis.”
But he just smiled. I heard that he had once said: “Women taught me nothing when I was young. All that I learned was from men. I have read little history but I have learned this mistresses and even lawful wives have often ruined states. “
He was too kind to say this directly to me, but he held firmly to this belief.
The aunts, however, had some influence with him. Although they occupied a separate establishment they were allowed to visit us, which they did. They could tell the King so much of the past, they said; and he seemed to believe them, for he listened.
There was much coming and going between Choisy and Paris. Everyone was wondering how much influence the aunts would have with the new King, how much influence I should have, and whom the King would choose for his mistress. That made me want to laugh. Had they forgotten that a wife was too much of a burden for the King, let alone a mistress? That reminded me, of course, that our distressing and perplexing problem would now be more pressing than ever.
Louis at the moment was concerned with choosing a man who could advise him in the conduct of affairs, and he believed that he needed someone of great experience to make up for his own lack. His first thought was for Jean Baptist d’Arouville Machault, who had been Comptroller General of Finances until the antagonism of Madame de Pompadour had brought him down. He was certainly experienced, and it was due to the schemes of the King’s mistress that he had fallen all of which endeared him to Louis, who wrote summoning him to Choisy, for he was very eager to begin working for his country.
While he was writing the letter the aunts arrived, and I was with my husband when they were announced. Adelaide declared that she had come at once to her dear nephew’s aid, for she was sure she could give the information he must be in need of.
“You see, dear Berry … Ha, I must not say Berry now, Your Majesty. I have lived so long and so close to your grandfather … and I know so much that can be of use to you.” She included me in her anile and I was so full of admiration for the manner in -which she nursed her father that I felt a rush of affection for her.
“You are sending for Machault. Oh no … no … no …* She put her ear close to the King’s and whispered, ” Maurepas. Maurepas is the man. “
“Is he not somewhat old?”
Ah, Your Majesty is somewhat young. ” She laughed shrilly.
“That is what makes it such an excellent arrangement. You have the vigour and vitality of youth. He has the experience of age. Maurepas,” she whispered.
“A most able man. Why, when he was twenty-four he controlled the King’s house hold as well as the Admiralty.”
“But he lost his posts.”
“Why? … why? Because he was no friend of Pompadour. That was our father’s mistake. However able a man, if one of his women did not care for him it was the end.”
She went on enumerating the merits of Maurepas, and eventually my husband decided to destroy the letter he had written to Machault and instead wrote to Maurepas. I was there when he wrote the letter which seems to convey so much of his feeling at that time.
“Amidst the natural grief which overwhelms me and which I share with the entire kingdom, I have great duties to fulfill. I am the King; the word speaks of many responsibilities. Alas, I am only twenty [my husband was not even that; he had three months to wait for his twentieth birth day] and I have not the necessary experience. I have been unable to work with the ministers, as they were with the late King during his illness. My certainty of your honesty and knowledge impels me to ask you to help me. You will please me if you come here as soon as possible.”
No King of France ever ascended the throne with a greater desire for self-abnegation than my husband.
Having secured the appointment of Maurepas the aunts were triumphant, believing they were going to be the power behind the throne. They watched me suspiciously and I knew that when I was not present they warned the King against allowing his frivolous little wife to meddle.
He was so good, he immediately had two hundred thousand francs distributed to the poor; he was greatly concerned about the licentiousness of the Court and determined to abolish it. He asked Monsieur de Maurepas how he could set about bringing a state of morality to a court where morals had been lax for so long.
“There is but one way. Sire,” was Maurepas’s answer.
“It is one Your Majesty must take to set a good example. In most countries—and in particular in France— where the Sovereign leads, the people will follow.”
My husband looked at me and smiled, very serenely, very confidently.
He would never take a mistress. He loved me; and if he could only become a normal man, we would have children and ours would be the perfect union.
But there was so much to think of at that time that that uneasy subject was forgotten.
Louis was kind. He could not even be cruel to Madame du Barry.
“Let her be dismissed from the Court,” he said.
“That should suffice. She shall go to a convent for a while until it is decided to what place she may be banished.”
It was lenient, but Louis had no wish to punish. Nor had I. I thought of that time When I had been forced to say those silly words to her.
How angry I had been at the time, but now it was all forgotten; and I could only remember how she had stayed with the King when he was so ill and she was in danger of catching the dreaded disease. Let her be banished. That was enough.
Louis quickly grasped that the country’s finances were in disorder, and determined on household economies. I was beside him and declared that I too would econo mise I gave up my droit de ceinture, a sum of money which was given by the State for my private purse which hung on my girdles.
