squandered in careless and extravagant debauchery. It was later said that not since the days of ancient Rome was there such profligacy as was practised at the Court of Louis XV. But when my husband became King there should have been a change. There could never have been a King of France less given to extravagance, and he had never in his life practised debauchery He wanted to be good; he cared passionately for his people; he asked nothing for himself, only their confidence in the belief that he was their little father who would make Prance great again. Maurepas was there to advise him; he listened to Maurepas; but when I made my requests he would listen to me; and he was never sure to which of us he should give his support. He wavered. Was that what destroyed us? He was unable to think quickly, unable ever to make up his mind. This was not stupidity—quite the reverse. He was too ready to see both sides of a dispute, which was often the true aspect of the case, but it prevented his making a decision. Hence he. would go a little way in one direction hesitate, turn . give way and then sway again. My poor Louis, whose intentions were always so unselfish, who desperately sought to find the right course and seldom succeeded.
He had trained himself to be calm in all situations, and in this he was helped by his own nature. Yet all his good qualities worked against him; for this very calmness prevented his seeing disaster when it loomed right ahead of him. He would say: “Oh, it will pass. It is only a bagatelle.”
Had it not been for the state of the finances, we might have avoided tragedy. Was it our fault that the country’s finances were tottering on the edge of bankruptcy? To some extent perhaps I was to blame. My dear Trianon was like a greedy monster who put his head into the treasury and drank deep. My white and gold theatre, my exquisite gardens, my Hameau . they were all very expensive. But I did not think of the cost because they were so beautiful, and they made not only me but thousands of others happy.
Turgot, and Necker, had tried to right these finances and their methods had failed. Then we called in Calonne. His policy was to borrow from the people and decrease taxation. The yearly deficit was over 100,000,000 livres.
Everyone was talking of the Deficit. They had given me a new name. My picture, with the necklace, was seen everywhere, and underneath it were the words “Madame Deficit.”
When Calonne had first taken over we had all felt optimistic. We did not realise then that he was thinking only of the immediate present and that the fact that things did seem to improve was due solely to the confidence he inspired. But confidence was not enough. Whenever I asked if something might be done he would bow courteously and say: “If what Your Majesty asks is possible, the thing is done; if it is impossible it shall be done.”
This seemed a most encouraging and clever answer; but it was not the way to solve our difficulties.
Then I forgot all these tiresome financial matters, because the health of two of my children began to worry me and occupy my thoughts exclusively. I had accepted the certainty that little Sophie Beatrix would be a difficult child to rear; but now my eldest son, my little Louis-Joseph, the Dauphin, was showing signs of weakness. The trouble began with rickets, and in spite of all the careful attention which I and the doctors bestowed on him his condition worsened.
It soon became apparent that his spine was affected and my darling was going to be deformed. I was desperately unhappy; and my great consolation was in the good healthy looks of my dearest Madame Royale and her younger brother, the Duke of Normandy, who was healthy and lovely with his blue eyes and fair hair.
He was a strange child, my little Dauphin; perhaps it was because he was not as strong as other boys he was introspective and clever: a little old man, he seemed at times. I loved him fiercely as one does a child whose health gives continual cause for anxiety; I was constantly in the nursery so that I might keep an eye on the baby Sophie Beatrix.
Gabrielle was my close companion for she was governess to the children, and it was very disturbing when the Dauphin took a dislike to her. I could not understand how anyone could dislike Gabrielle she was so lovely in appearance, so gentle in manner, and she adored children. But there had always been intrigues against the Polignac family, and although Gabrielle was unlike the others she was a Polignac and no one forgot it. The Dauphin’s governor was the Due d’Harcomt and I believe he bred this hatred in the Dauphin for his governess. I tried to stop it and this was noticed. I soon realised that I, too, was not to be allowed complete freedom in the management of my own nurseries.
I remember one day taking marshmallows and jujube lozenges to Louis-Joseph, for he was very fond of sweetmeats. The Due dHarcourt respectfully pointed out that the Dauphin was only allowed to eat sweets as the faculty prescribed for him. I was momentarily angry that I should not be allowed to give him sweets, and then when I looked at his poor little body I thought perhaps it was the doctors who should decide.
It was only a few days later when Gabrielle told me that the Dauphin had sent her from the room.
“You are too fond of using perfumes, Duchesse,” he said, ‘and they make me feel ill. “
“But,” protested Gabrielle with tears in her eyes, “I was not using perfume.”
In some ways I found greater pleasure in my younger son, who was nearly two years old. He adored me and liked to climb all over me, examining Monsieur Leonard’s elaborate head-dress with the greatest interest and glee. He was gay and a little self-willed and very interested in everything about him; and because he was not such an important little person as his elder brother I thought of him as entirely my own.
Little Sophie Beatrix was growing weaker. I could not leave her; it was heartbreaking to see the wan little creature fighting for her breath. I shall never forget the day she died in my arms. I looked down at the still little face and until that time I had never known such unhappiness.
I laid her gently in her cradle and tried to comfort myself with thoughts of the other children; but looking back, it seems that perhaps that was the beginning of all my sorrows.
The financial affairs of the country were getting worse and whenever people talked of the Deficit they mentioned my name. My extravagances were responsible for it all; I was the Austrian woman who worked against France for the sake of Austria; I had crippled the finances of France by buying the diamond necklace, by the expenses of the Trianon.
I was indifferent to these slanders. I thought only of the deterioration in the health of my elder son.
He was an extremely clever boy and would talk so wisely that it seemed incredible in one so young; but as I watched his deformity become more pronounced with the weeks I wept for him. He could not play as his little brother did, but would sit with his dog Moufflet always beside him, for all the children had inherited from me a love of dogs.
My husband mourned with me for the loss of our little daughter and the poor state of our Dauphin’s health. I’m sure he was more disturbed on that score than by Calonne’s suggestions to call together certain members of the nobility and clergy—the Notables—that they might give their advice as to how the country could be extricated from the alarming position into which it was falling.
Calonne’s idea was to abolish privilege and levy taxes equally. It was an idea which needed the most solemn examination.
“Only an Assembly of Notables could fulfill it.”
My husband was alarmed. He knew that the calling together of this assembly was a direct blow at the power of the Monarchy; but Calonne pointed out that the great Henri Quatre had made use of it. Vergennes was against the idea and for a time Louis wavered between his ministers, and then the alarming state of the exchequer decided him to come down in favour of Calonne’s suggestion. This assembly would consist of seven Princes of the Blood, fourteen Archbishops and Bishops, thirty-six Dukes and Peers, twelve Councillors of State, thirty-eight Magistrates, twelve Deputies of State and twenty-five Municipal Officers of large towns, and was meant to be a cross section of the people who could be most use in advising the King and Parlement.
Once he had made the decision to call the Assembly of Notables Louis was pleased.
He told me on the morning of the 30th of December,
Poor Louis I What little grasp he had of the true state of affairs.
How he believed that everyone was of the same disinterested outlook as himself!
He went on: “The maxim of our kings has been: ” As wUleth the King so willeth the law. ” Mine shall be: ” As willeth the happiness of the people, so willeth the King”.”
He was happier than he had been since the death of Sophie Beatrix, believing that this measure would solve our problems. La Fayette, recently returned from America, was firmly in favour of the summoning of the Notables and the abolition of privilege. He had come back with ideas of a new liberty, preaching liberty. And in the Palais Royale, the domain of our old enemy the Due d’Orleans, meetings were held in the gardens at which further
