The Queen`s Confession (56 page)

He told me that he had passed the night at his sister’s house in order to be in time for the appointment and that I need have no fear that any of those who spied on me should know of the meeting as he had taken the precaution of disguising his nephew as a coachman in order to drive his carriage here.

He then began to explain how he wished to serve us. He could do this.

He would bend the people to his will. What he needed me to do was persuade the King to receive him that he might lay his plans before us both.

I listened to him. I was excited by his enthusiasm, which was in such contrast to my husband’s lethargy. He reminded me of Axel, who was so eager to save me except that Axel was beautiful, and this man so ugly.

I believed him capable of doing all he said and I told him so.

For his part I am sure he was sincere when he laid his hand on his heart and said that in the future it would be his greatest desire in life to serve me. From now on I could count him as my champion.

I told him that he had given me fresh hope and he replied that I might well hope, for soon all the humiliation I had suffered would be behind me.

There was such a sense of power in the man that I could not fail to believe him.

I left him feeling that the interview had been one of 418 marked success. Axel was delighted; so was Mercy. I felt all we had to do now was to wait for Mirabeau to act. When I heard that he had written to the Comte de la Marck, who was one of the go-betweens in the affair:

“Nothing shall stop me. I would die rather than fail to fulfill my promises!” I was exultant.

The autumn had come and we must leave Saint-Cloud and return to the Tuileries. It was with great sadness that we returned to our dank, dark home.

The aunts were wretched. They could only vaguely understand what had happened, and they hated the crowds who were always watching us and treating us with no respect;

they loathed the guards who spied on us so insolently.

They were constantly in tears and their health was failing. They envied poor Sophie more than ever. Anyone who had died before this terrible thing had happened was to be envied, declared Adelaide.

Mirabeau was in touch with us and the King was receiving him. I pointed out that if some plan was formed which might involve our leaving Paris it would be as well to have the aunts safely out of the way. Louis agreed with us but in his usual way did nothing about it, so I consulted Axel, who said that we should arrange for them to slip away. They must cross the frontier and perhaps go to Naples, where my sister would undoubtedly receive them.

I shall never forget the day they left. They were desolate, like two lost children. They embraced me fondly and Adelaide cried that she wanted me to come with them-myself, dear Louis and the darling children. I said we could not, and she looked at me mutely and I knew she was asking my forgiveness for all the spiteful malice of the past.

I wanted her to understand that I bore no malice. In the past I had been too careless to do so; now I realised that there was too much hatred in the world for me to wish to add to it.

I kissed them. I said, without believing it for one moment, that perhaps soon we should all be together. And they went out into the

courtyard where the carriages were waiting. I was horrified to see that a crowd had gathered and some effort was made to prevent their leaving.

I heard a voice shout: “Shall we let them go?” And I listened, my heart beating wildly for the answer.

There was a pause, but when during it the coachmen had whipped up the horses and the carriage moved off, no one attempted to follow them.

It was only Mesdames—the mad old ladies.

I stood at the window looking out without seeing anything.

They had gone now. Another phase was over.

It was a long time before I heard from them. Their carriage had been stopped on the way; ugly faces had peered at them. As they could not be the Queen disguised they were allowed to pass on, and eventually they reached Naples, where my sister Caroline welcomed them.

I heard that they spoke of me with something like reverence. So they must have been truly sorry.

Orleans had returned to Paris. Why should he stay away? Because the King had sent him into exile? But what power had the King? The people of Paris welcomed him back. And with him came Jeanne de la Motte. Why should she stay away? There was no danger now of her being asked to pay the penalty for her part in the diamond necklace fraud. Everyone believed that she had been the scapegoat and that I had had the necklace.

She set herself up in the Place Vendfime and devoted her time to the writing of fiction in which I was always the central character. She wrote her newest version of the Diamond Necklace Scandal. Her works were received with enthusiasm, for their purpose was to revile me.

Meanwhile Mirabeau was bringing all his energy to the problem of restoring the Monarchy. I believe now that he could have done it. He was working with the National Assembly and with the King and we were closer now to reconciliation than we had been for a long time, Mirabeau

could have saved us. I realise that now. He was not entirely altruistic. He wanted power for himself, and he wanted riches too. His debts were enormous. The King must provide a million livres which would pass into Mirabeau’s possession when he had brought the revolution to an end and the King was firmly back on the throne. His, Mirabeau’s, debts would naturally be settled and he would earn the undying gratitude of the King.

With his golden voice and his mastery of words he could sway the Assembly. Marat, Robespierre and Danton were watchful. So was Orleans.

It must have seemed to them that Mirabeau was planning to destroy all they had agitated for.

He talked fiercely to the King.

“Four enemies,” he said, ‘are marching upon us: taxation, bankruptcy, the army, and the winter. We could prepare to deal with these enemies by guiding them. Civil war is not certain, but it could be expedient.

”

Louis was horrified.

“Civil war. I could never agree to that ” Law and order would merely be arms to fight the mob. And does Your Majesty doubt which would win?

”

The King looked at me.

“The King would never agree to civil war,” I told him.

Mirabeau was exasperated.

“Oh excellent but weak King I’ he thundered.

“Oh, most unfortunate of Queens! Your vacillation, has swept you into a terrible abyss. If you renounce my advice, or if I should fail, a funeral pall will cover this realm. But should I escape the general shipwreck, I shall be able to say to myself with pride, ” I exposed myself to danger in the hope of saving them, but they did not want to be saved”.”

And with that he left us. How right he was. How foolish we were.

But the King would only say: “I would never agree to civil war.”

I, too, was afraid of it—too much afraid to attempt to persuade him, which no doubt I should have done.

Mirabeau was not the man to give up because he had rejected his first

plan. He knew of Axel’s devotion to me 421 and they talked together of the necessity of getting us out of Paris.

Mirabeau believed this to be a good plan and suggested that Axel should go at once to Metz, near the frontier, where the Marquis de Bouille was stationed with the loyal troops. Axel was to discover the position there, explain the plan to Bouille, and then return to Paris with all speed so that the arrangements could begin.

Axel came to say goodbye to me and I was terrified.

Do you realise,” I asked him, ‘what these canaille would do to you if they knew you were working for us?”

He knew, he replied. But they were not going to discover. The plan was going through. He was going to transport me to safety.

“They would not care that you were a foreigner!” I cried.

“Oh, Axel, go away from France. Stay away … until all this is over.”

He merely smiled and took me into his arms. He said that he would soon be back from Metz and then there should be no delay. He would be leaving Paris and I should be with him.

So he went to Metz and I tried to settle into the routine of the new life so monotonous, but like a smouldering fire which will at any moment burst into a wild conflagration.

It was wonderful to see Axel safely back, but the news he brought was not good. Bouille was growing anxious, for the troops were becoming restive. News of what was happening in Paris was coming to them often highly exaggerated, and he was less sure of their loyalty than he had been. Bouille believed that inactivity was responsible. K decisive action was to be taken, there should be no delay.

Axel agreed wholeheartedly; so did Mirabeau.

You should begin making plans for the escape,” Mira beau told Axel.

“As a Swede you are less suspect than a Frenchman would be.” In the meantime he still clung to his first plan. He wanted boldness on the part of the King; he wanted him to behave as though he were a King, to go into the streets, to show himself. He was not disliked, the people

showed their affection for him by calling him their link papa.

“I think it would be unwise for the Queen to appear in the streets,” said Axel.

Mirabeau lifted his shoulders.

“In an affair of this nature, certain risks must be taken. The mood of the people at this moment is such that I do not think the Queen would be harmed. That mood can, of course, change suddenly.” - “I do not care for the Queen to expose herself to the rabble,” said Axel fiercely.

So even between these two there was disagreement.

But there was new hope in the Tuileries. Axel was working for us as only a fervent lover could; Mirabeau was using all the fierce determination of an ambitious man, for the same purpose. I believed that this could not fail.

Fate was against us, for ill fortune always seemed close behind, ready to catch up with us.

I could not believe it when I was told that Mirabeau was dead. The day before, he had appeared to be in perfect health, his vitality astonishing everyone. By day he was haranguing the National Assembly, formulating plans with the Ring and at the same time working with the Assembly. By night he continued to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh. I heard that the night before he died he slept with two opera singers.

We did not know exactly how he died. All we knew was that he was no longer with us.

The verdict was death from natural causes; but we shall never know what killed Mirabeau. He was a man who no doubt suffered from certain ailments. The life he had been leading for so long may have made them inevitable; but there were many who said that the Orleanists had determined to be rid of a man who was trying to run with the Monarchy and hunt with the National Assembly. It would not be difficult to find someone ready to slip a little something into his food or wine.

The fact remained that we had lost Mirabeau, and with

him, our best hope of restoring the Monarchy to France.

And so we were back to the routine of the Tuileries. I spent a great deal of time in my room, writing. I was learning now where I had taken my most fatal steps and how I might have acted. If I ever had a chance, I decided, I would not make the same mistakes again.

I was embroidering my tapestry rug with Elisabeth and we spent long hours together talking of the children;

sometimes I played a game of billiards with the King. For exercise we walked in the Bois de Boulogne, but we were always uneasy when out of doors. Our experiences at Versailles had taught us that walls could not protect us from the fury of the mob, but there was a certain sense of security within walls. My son remained very friendly with the soldiers, and I encouraged this because I thought that he must inspire some affection in them and if the mob ever broke in on us as they had at Versailles these soldier friends H of his would protect him.

I was longing for the summer and the comparative freedom of Saint-Cloud. It seemed far away and I suggested to the King that we slip away to Saint-Cloud for Easter. He agreed to this and I said we would make ready.

Remembering how, when the aunts had left, the mob had surrounded their carriage and had debated whether or not to let them go, I said that we must not let it be generally known that we were going. All the same, certain preparaons had to be made, and the members of my intimate circle knew of them.

I trusted them absolutely, although there was a new corner named Madame Rochereuil of whom I knew very little: but she had been well recommended and it never occurred to me to doubt that she ‘was not to be relied on.

Preparations were complete; Easter was almost on us;

the carriages were in the courtyard and we were ready to leave. But as we began the drive we found ourselves surrounded by the rabble; this was the same kind of mob which had brought us from Versailles to Paris. I felt sick with horror; my son turned his face from the window of 424

the carriage and I put my arm about him to comfort him.

The insults came—the crude obscenities.

“Lirte Papa must stay with his children!” cried the crowd.

La Fayette came up with his soldiers and ordered the mob to retire and let the royal carriage pass, but he was jeered at and mud was flung at him. I knew instinctively that this was another organised revolt.

“You are behaving as enemies of the Constitution!” cried La Fayette.

“In preventing the King from leaving, you make him a prisoner and you annul the decrees he has sanctioned.”

But they would not listen to reason. What had reason to do with them?

They had been gathered together for this purpose; they had been paid to do what they did.

They leered in at the carriage windows. When the King tried to speak, they shouted “Fat pig I’ at him.

1 could not help showing my disdain for them. It was something I could never hide. My looks betrayed the contempt I felt for these people.

“Look at her I’ they cried, ” Shall we let this putain dictate to us?

”

La Payette rode to the carriage.

“Sire,” he said, ‘have I your orders to fire on the mob? “