was like a fish on the hook. Of course he would enter into negotiations for the necklace if it were my wish.
Madame de la Motte told the jewellers that the purchase would go through. A very great nobleman would make it on behalf of the Queen.
She, Madame de la Motte, did not wish her name to be mentioned in the affair it would be between Cardinal de Rohan, the Queen and the jewellers.
Overcome with joy, seeing a way out of all the anxieties of the past,
the jewellers offered Madame de la Motte a precious stone in payment for her services. This she refused. She was only too happy to help, she said.
To the Cardinal she explained that I wished to buy the necklace without the King’s knowledge; and that I should need to do so on credit since I was short of money at the time.
“Her Majesty will pay by instalments,” she explained, ‘and this will fall due at intervals of three months. Naturally for such an arrangement the Queen must have an intermediary. She at once thought of you. “
The Cardinal during the trial explained what had happened:
“Madame de la Motte brought me a supposed letter from the Queen in which Her Majesty showed herself anxious to buy the necklace, and pointed out that, being without the necessary funds for the moment, and not wishing to occupy herself with the necessary arrangements in detail, she wished that I would treat the affair and take all the steps for the purchase and fix suitable periods for payments.” On receipt of this letter the Cardinal was delighted. He would be happy to do anything for Her Majesty. He would feel honoured to make any arrangement she desired. The price was fixed at sixteen hundred thousand livres, payable within two years in four six-monthly instalments. The necklace would be handed to the Cardinal on February 1st and the first instalment would be due on August 1st 1785. He drew up this agreement in his own hand and gave it to Madame de la Motte to show to her dear friend the Queen. Back came the note on gilt-edged paper with the fleur-delis in the corner signed “Marie Antoinette de France’ to say that the Queen was satisfied with the arrangements made and deeply grateful to the Cardinal.
It is strange when the Cardinal saw the necklace he had his first doubts. This man who believed that I would meet him by night in the Grove of Venus, who believed that he had a chance of becoming my lover, was astonished that I could wish to wear such a vulgar ornament as the diamond necklace.
He wavered. He would wish, he told Madame de la Money, to have a document signed by the Queen authorising him to buy the necklace for her.
Madame de la Motte was not disturbed. Why not? Retaux de Villette had provided other documents. Why not this one? In due course it was produced, signed in the usual way, “Marie Antoinette de France,” and the word “Approved’ was written beside each clause in what purported to be my handwriting.
How could the Cardinal have looked at that signature and not known it false? How could he have believed I would sign myself thus?
I remember these questions being asked continually during the trial and afterwards; and one pamphleteer gave a possible answer:
“People are so easily persuaded as to the truth of what they desire. It was such a mistake as might easily have been made by a man with a lively agitated mind like that of the Cardinal who was pleased, delighted even, with an arrangement which fed some sentiment, some new view, in the endless labyrinth of his imagination.”
The deal was made. On February 1st Boehmer and Bassenge brought the necklace to the Cardinal, who that—same day took it to the Rue NeuveSaint-Gilles, where Madame de la Motte was waiting to receive it. He was invited to wait in a room with a glass door through which he could watch the transfer of the necklace. He saw a young man in the Queen’s livery present himself to the Comte and Comtesse de la Motte with the words “By order of the Queen.” He took the casket and disappeared.
The Cardinal took his leave, and as soon as he had gone, Retaux de Villette, who had played the part of the Queen’s messenger, returned with the casket; and the conspirators sat down at a table to gloat over the finest diamonds in Europe.
But they had not made this plan merely to look at diamonds. They must be broken up and sold. They got to work without delay.
The whole story might have been discovered much earlier, for a few days after the Cardinal ‘had handed over the necklace a jeweller called at the headquarters of the Paris police to give the information that a man had brought him some extraordinarily fine diamonds which had obviously been taken from their settings by an unskilled person. As a result, Retaux, returning to the shop, was arrested.
With great plausibility Retaux explained that the diamonds had been placed in his possession by one of the King’s relatives, the Comtesse de la Motte-Valois. He was able to prove this, and at the name of Valois the police retracted and Retaux was released.
But it had been a warning that it was a mistake to try to dispose of the best diamonds in Paris, and the Comte set out for London to sell die stones. When he returned he was a rich man—although the London jewellers had benefited greatly by the sale, for naturally he did not get the full va hie of the diamonds. Now Madame de la Motte was in her element. She was a woman who could live in the present and did not much concern herself with the future—an attitude of mind which I understood perfectly She made a royal departure to Bar-sur-Aube with servants in splendid uniforms, a carnage drawn by four English horses—carpets, tapestries, furniture and clothes, she needed twenty-four carts to carry all her possessions with which she intended to furnish her mansion. On her English berline of a delicate pearl-grey colour she had die arms of the House of Valois engraved with die mono:
“Rege ab aw sangwnem, nomen, et lilia.” From die King my ancestor I derive my blood, my name, and die lilies.
There she lived royally as she must always have longed to live since she had heard diat she had Valois blood in her veins. But surely she must have known diat it could not last. There must be a’ reckoning.
Perhaps like myself she had to learn that what one sows me must reap.
The Cardinal had been arrested and had told his story implicating Jeanne. Two days later guards arrived at Bar-sur-Aube. Jeanne knew resistance was useless; she was taken prisoner and lodged in die Bastille.
The Trial
The Queen was innocent and to give greater publicity to her innocence she desired the Parlement to judge the case. The result was that the Queen was thought guilty and that discredit was thrown on the Court.
I saw that he (de Rohan) would be unable to appear any more at Court.
But the action, which will last several months, may have other results. It began by the issue of a warrant of arrest which suspends him from all rights, functions and faculty of performing any civil act until judgment is pronounced. Cagliostro, charlatan. La Motte and his wife together with a girl named Oliva, a mud lark of the gutters, are in the same boat. What associates for a Grand Almoner, a Rohan and a Cardinal!
The Queen’s grief was extreme. “Come,* said Her Majesty to me, ‘come, and lament for Your Queen, insulted and sacrificed by cabal and injustice …” The King came in and said to me: “You find the Queen much afflicted; she has great reason to be so.”
All the actors in die Diamond Necklace affair were in the Bastille, with the exception of the Comte de la Motte, who had escaped to London with what was left of the necklace, and the whole of the court and the country was working itself up into a fever of excitement and expectation.
Each day Paris was filled with excited crowds. No one talked of anything but the coming trial. The Cardinal
