The queen who laughed too much
Douglas Johnson
MARIE ANTOINETTE: THE JOURNEY by Antonia Fraser
Weidenfeld, £25, pp. 468. ISBN 0297819089
The dust cover of Antonia Fraser's book carries a quotation from the autobiography of Thomas Jefferson. This third President of the United States, who had been Minister to Paris, is most hostile to Marie Antoinette, blaming her for the Revolution. 'Had there been no Queen,' he writes, 'there would have been no Revolution. Were this statement to figure in one of the many examination papers that have appeared recently and had candidates been asked to discuss it, they would have been dismissive. To the present generation, thinking about social classes or about the chance combination of legal, urban and peasant crises occurring in the summer of 1789, Jefferson's assertion is ridiculous. Yet the great Michelet, seeing the Revolution as the work of the people, shared their hatred, as he saw it, of the Queen. And Francois Furet, in our own days, believed that in 1792, the monarchy had, for a short time, the opportunity of taking the leadership of the new France. It was the failure of the King, influenced by his queen, to do so that caused the Revolution to become extreme.
Antonia Fraser must have been tempted to write a defence of Marie Antoinette. But she has done much more than this. She has written a fine biography of the Austrianborn Queen of France who was guillotined at the age of 37. In the course of her book she has analysed and discussed the accusations that have been made against her. Writing knowledgeably and sensibly, she has put matters into perspective.
The Marie Antoinette who appears here was undoubtedly unfortunate. The 'small Archduchess' had a happy childhood until, at the age of 14, she was married by proxy to the future King of France. She was then officially handed over to the French on an island in the river Rhine. She was stripped of her Austrian wedding clothes, even down to her stockings and underwear, and made to don French clothes. From then on, she was a royal princess of France. Her duty was to produce a male heir to the French throne. But since the marriage had come about because there was a newly formed alliance between France and Austria, she was a hostage to this alliance. And her mother expected her to be an ambassador for Austria, and to be constantly in touch with the man who was the official Austrian ambassador.
Thus from the beginning of her arrival in France, she was known as TAutrichienne', firstly at court, then more widely. And as Antonia Fraser points out, this word conjures up, in French, other words: the word for ostrich ('autruche') and the word for bitch ('chienne').
The first years of the marriage were dominated by the failure of Marie Antoinette to produce an heir. It was, apparently, widely known that this was because the Dauphin was unable to consummate his marriage, a situation that lasted for some seven and a half years. Was he suffering from some physical defect, or was it the fault of Marie Antoinette? Her mother stressed the importance of caresses, which seemed to put the blame on the Dauphine, but members of the Court had every opportunity to speculate (and to snigger) and to seek for other explanations. On one occasion, Marie Antoinette caught the anti-Austrian Duc de Vauguyon listening at the keyhole when she was speaking with her husband.
All the more reason for her to seek pleasure where she could find it. She sought and enjoyed the company of women, notably the Princesse de Lamballe and the Duchesse de Polignac; there were the theatre, the opera and other people's children; being dressed by the marchande de mode Rose Bertin was magnificent in itself; gambling and late-night visits to Paris were delightful ways of spending time. And within the court there was always something to attract the solicitude of this kindly and spontaneous Queen.
Thus when a handsome young man, known as `le beau Dillon', fainted in public, she immediately placed her hand on his heart to see if he was still alive. It was easy for those watching to misinterpret such gestures. The Queen was accused of having lovers; just as her relations with certain noble ladies were said to suggest lesbianism. Her extravagance was criticised. And her most serious critics pointed out that the great queens of history did not laugh.
Antonia Fraser defends the Queen. She had but one lover. the Count Mel Fersen, the Swedish nobleman who had, according to the Duchess of Devonshire. 'the most gentleman-like air'. And this affair was brief. We are told that the Queen was not a lesbian and that she was less extravagant than others at the court (although it is admitted that the gambling was a mistake). Most of the rumours and gossip that surrounded her were false and the legend that she urged the poor, since they were without bread, to eat cake is an old story, told about many who came before her.
All this is well argued. But perhaps Antonia Fraser underestimates the implications of the charges that were brought against the Queen. When her portrait by Madame Vigee-Lebrun was displayed in 1787, an unknown hand pinned a notice to it giving it the title, 'Madame Deficit'. The insinuations of the Queen's lesbian relations with the Princesse de Lamballe grew from 1775 onwards, as Antoine de Baecque has shown, and developed into an accusation that the Queen and her companions were trying to wrest power from the male rulers of France.
This makes one wonder whether it is right to conclude that Marie Antoinette has been made the scapegoat of the Revolution. But Antonia Fraser argues her case well. She takes every opportunity to dedramatise situations, as when she writes that once the marriage of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette was consummated, it can hardly be described as a bad marriage, 'as royal marriages go'. She has made this sad story into a fine and rewarding book.
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