Madame de Noailles was the first to reach me. She knelt and taking my hand kissed it.
She was calling me: “Your Majesty.”
Now I understood; I felt the tears rushing to my eyes. The King was dead; my poor Louis was King of France and I was the Queen.
They pressed in on us as though it were a joyful occasion. Louis turned to me and I to him.
He took my hand and spontaneously we knelt together.
We are too young,” he whispered; and we seemed to be praying together:
“Oh God, guide us, protect us. We are too young to govern!“
Flattery and Reprimands
I marvel at the design of Pate which has chosen me, the youngest of your daughters, to be Queen of the finest Kingdom in Europe.
You are both so young and the burden which has been placed on your shoulders is very heavy. I am distressed that this should be so.
“Petite Reine de vingt ans, Vous, qui traites si mal les gens, Vous repasserez la barriere …”
As soon as the King was dead there was no reason why anyone should remain any longer at Versailles. Our carriage had been waiting for days so there was nothing to delay us. We were to leave at once for Choisy.
The aunts, in view of the fact that they had been in close contact with the late King and were therefore undoubtedly infectious, were to live in a house by themselves as it was considered of the greatest importance that my husband should remain in good health.
We were all very solemn as we rode away from Versailles. In our carriage were Provence and Artois with their wives, and we said very little. I kept reminding myself that I should never see my grandfather again and that 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.