he stopped crying as I took him, and looked up at me wonderingly. He had large blue eyes and light-coloured waving hair. He was like a little cherub.
“You are not hurt, darling,” I said.
“And there is nothing to fear.”
A woman had come out of the cottage; two children, older than the little boy, ran after her and I caught a glimpse of others.
“The boy …” began the woman; and she looked at me in astonishment.
I was not sure if she knew who I was.
“Jacques, what are you doing?”
The little boy on my lap turned his head from her and nestled closer to me. That decided me. He was mine. Providence had given him to me.
I beckoned to the woman and she came closer to the calash.
“You are his mother?” I asked.
No, Madame. His grandmother. His mother my daughter died last winter.
She has left five children on my hands. ” I was exultant.
“On my hands!” It was significant.
“He is the naughtiest of them all. One of the others …”
“He is mine,” I said, for I loved him already.
“Give him to me and you will never regret it.”
“Madame … you are …”
“I am the Queen,” I said. She dropped a clumsy curtsy and I added:
‘you shall be rewarded. ” And my eyes filled with tears at her gratitude, for like my husband I loved to help the poor when I was made aware of the difficult lives they led.
“And this little one shall be as my own child.”
The little one sat up suddenly and began to cry: “I don’t want the Queen. I want Marianne….”
“His sister, Madame,” said his grandmother.
“He is very wayward. He will run away.”
I kissed him.
“Not from me,” I said, but he tried to wriggle away from me. I signed to Campan to take the name of the woman and to remind me that something should be done; and then I gave orders to return to the palace.
Little Jacques kicked all the way and kept screaming that he wanted Marianne and his brother Louis. He was a bright little fellow.
“You do not know, darling, what a happy day this is for you,” I told him, ‘and for me. “
I told him of the toys he should have . a little pony of his own.
What did he think of that? He listened and said:
“I want Marianne.”
“He is a faithful little fellow,” I said.
“Not to be bribed.”
And I hugged him, which made him wriggle more than ever. His little woollen cap fell off and I was enchanted, for he was much prettier without it. I thought how delightful he would look in the clothes I should plan for him. We should soon discard that red frock and the little sabots.
When we reached the palace there was some astonishment to see me hand in hand with a little peasant boy, who was now too bewildered by all he saw to continue with his tears.
The Queen’s latest folly, was what they called it. But I did not care.
At last I had a child even though he was not of my flesh and blood. I found a nurse for him immediately-the wife of one of my menservants who had children of her own and whom I knew to be a good mother. I gave orders that he was to be suitably dressed as became his new station in life. And then with Madame Campan’s help I set about making arrangements to send my little darling’s brothers and sisters to school.
Those were the happiest days I had known for a long time, and when I saw my little one in a white lace- trimmed frock with a rose-coloured sash trimmed with silver fringe, and a little hat decorated with a feather, I thought he was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.
I embraced him; I wept over him; and this time he did not object; he lifted those wondering and most beautiful blue eyes to my face and called me “Maman.”
I called him Armand. That was his family name and it seemed more suitable at Court than Jacques. Every morning he was brought to me; he would sit on my bed before my lever; and we would breakfast together; sometimes we would dine together too. The King would join us and he grew quite fond of little Armand.
I was the only one who could tame his. waywardness. He liked to sit on the bed and play with the feathers and ornaments of my head-dresses.
When I was most elaborately dressed for some ball or banquet I would go and show myself to him.
If I loved him, he loved me too. It did not occur to me that a child could be capable of deep emotion—perhaps deeper than my own.
No one could doubt that die state of affairs between my
husband and myself was unsatisfactory. Although he never showed anything but kindness for me it was clear that he preferred the company of others to mine. He spent more time with Gamain than with me. I was completely outside political affairs; he showed clearly that, indulgent as he was towards me—permitting my extravagances, often paying my debts, practising, as it seemed, parsimony to counterbalance my extravagance, even allowing me to bring a peasant child into the family circle—he was not going to allow me to interfere in political affairs.
The uneasiness of my mother. Mercy, Vermond and Kaunitz was apparent.
And my mother had her enemies in Europe, the chief of whom was Frederick of Prussia—known as the Great to so many, and to my mother as the Monster.
Frederick had his spies everywhere, so he was well informed of the King’s inability to consummate our marriage, and an idea occurred to him that an experienced woman might achieve what a frivolous young girl had failed to do. Such a woman was the well-known actress of the Comedie Francaise, Louise Contat. She was more than beautiful; a woman of sensitivity, understanding and great charm, she was sought after by many a nobleman.
Such a mistress, Frederick the Great was certain, could greatly help the King. In any case it was worthy of a try. And it should be ascertained before the liaison was encouraged that the delectable Contat would be the friend of Prussia.
But for the vigilance of Vermond and Mercy I have no notion what would have grown out of this; but of one thing I am sure: my husband would never have been unfaithful.
Mercy was, however, soon writing to my mother. What a flutter there must have been in the Hofburg! I imagined the conferences between Joseph and my mother. Joseph had grown more pompous than ever, and as head of the family, believed it was his duty to castigate his family and keep it in order.
He had visited Naples to see Caroline, and her conduct did not please him. Poor Caroline ! What had the years done to her? She was creating scandal in Naples with the husband to whom she had gone so reluctantly.
Joseph had plenty to lecture her about. Caroline’s excuse was that she never entertained a lover until she was pregnant by her husband. As though as long as she secured the rightful succession nothing else mattered. Maria Amalia had been creating scandal in Parma ever since she had been there. And here was I in France, with the eyes of the world on me, frivolous and extravagant, but at least faithful to my husband—although rumour accused me of a hundred obscenities.
And now there was a possibility of my place in my husband’s affections being taken by a brilliant and attractive actress who would be eternally grateful to my mother’s greatest enemy for putting her in this exalted position.
Action must be taken without fail. It should have been long before.
My brother Joseph was coming to Versailles to discover the true state of affairs for himself and to see what could be done about them.
