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of monarchy like withered autumn leaves； and scattered through all
France； that they might be everywhere found and read。
〃They will kill me；〃 she would often say； with a sigh； after reading
these pamphlets steeped with hate； and written in blood〃 yes； they
will kill me； but with me they will kill the king and the monarchy
too。 The revolution will triumph over us all； and hurl us all
together down into the grave。〃
But still she would make efforts to control the revolution and
restore the monarchy again out of its humiliations。 The Emperor
Joseph II。； brother of the queen； once said of himself； 〃I am a
royalist； because that is my business。〃 Marie Antoinette was a
royalist not because it was her business； she was a royalist by
conviction； a royalist in her soul； her mind； and her inmost nature。
For this she would defend the monarchy； for this she would contend
against the revolution； until she should either constrain it to
terms or be swallowed up in it。
All her efforts； all her cares； were directed only to this； to
kindle in the king the same courage that animated her； to stir him
with the same fire that burned in her soul。 But alas！ Louis XVI。 was
no doubt a good man and a kind father； but he was no king。 He had no
doubt the wish to restore the monarchy； but he lacked the requisite
energy and strong will。 Instead of controlling the revolution with a
fiery spirit； he sought to conciliate it by concession and mild
measures； and instead of checking it； he himself went down before
it。
But Marie Antoinette could not and would not give up hope。 As the
king would not act； she would act for him； as he would not take part
in politics； she would do so for him。 With glowing zeal she plunged
into business； spent many hours each day with the ministers and
dependants of the court； corresponded with foreign lands； with her
brother the Emperor Leopold； and her sister； Queen Caroline of
Naples； wrote to them in a cipher intelligible only to them； and
sent the letters through the hands of secret agents； imploring of
them assistance and help for the monarchy。
In earnest labor； in unrelieved care and business； the queen's days
now passed； she sang； she laughed no more； dress had no longer
charms for her； she had no more conferences with Mademoiselle
Bertin； her milliner； her hairdresser； M。 Leonard； had no more calls
upon his genius for new coiffures for her fair hair； a simple； dark
dress； that was the toilet of the queen； a lace handkerchief round
the neck； and a feather was her only head…dress。
Once she had rejoiced in her beauty； and smiled at the flatteries
which her mirror told her when it reflected her face； now she looked
with indifference at her pale； worn face； with its sharp grave
features； and it awoke no wonder within her when the mirror told her
that the queen of France； in spite of her thirty…six years； was old；
that the roses on her cheeks had withered； and that care had drawn
upon her brow those lines which age could not yet have done。 She did
not grieve over her lost beauty； she looked with complacency at that
matron of six…and…thirty years whose beautiful hair showed the
traces of that dreadful night in October。 She had her picture
painted； in order to send it to London； to the truest of her
friends； the Princess Lamballe； and with her own hands she wrote
beneath it the words： 〃Your sorrows have whitened your hair。〃
And yet in this life full of cares； full of work； full of pain and
humiliationin these sad days of trouble and resignation； there
were single gleams of sunshine； scattered moments of happiness。
It was a ray of sunshine when this sad winter in the Tuileries was
past； and the States…General allowed the royal family to go to St。
Cloud and spend the summer there。 Certainly it was a new humiliation
for the king to receive permission to reside in his own summer
palace of St。 Cloud。 But the States…General called themselves the
pillars of the throne； and the king who sat upon this shaking throne
was very dependent upon its support。
In St。 Cloud there was at least a little freedom； a little solitude
and stillness。 The birds sang in the foliage； the sun lighted up the
broad halls of the palace； in which a few faithful ones gathered
around the queen and recalled at least a touch of the past happiness
to her brow。 In St。 Cloud she was again the queen； she held her
court there。 But how different was this from the court of former
days。
No merry laughter； no cheerful singing resounded through these
spacious halls； no pleasant ladies； in light； airy； summer costume
swept through the fragrant apartments； M。 d'Adhemar no longer sits
at the spinet； and sings with his rich voice the beautiful arias
from the opera 〃Richard of the Lion Heart；〃 in which royalty had its
apotheosis； and in which the singer Garat had excited all Paris to
the wildest demonstrations of delight！ And not all Paris； but
Versailles as well； and in Versailles the royal court！
Louis XVI。 himself had been in rapture at the aria which Garat sang
with his flexible tenor voice in so enchanting a manner〃Oh；
Richard！ oh； mon roi！〃an aria which had once procured him a
triumph in the very theatre。 For when Garat began this air with his
full voice； and every countenance was directed to the box where the
royal family were sitting； the whole theatre rose； and the hundreds
upon hundreds present had joined in the loud； jubilant strains〃Oh；
Richard！ oh； mon roi！〃 Louis XVI。 was grateful to the spirited
singer； who； in that stormy time； had the courage to publicly offer
him homage； and he had therefore acceded to the request of the
queen； that Garat should be invited to the private concerts of the
queen at Versailles； and give her instruction on those occasions in
the art of singing。
Marie Antoinette thought of those pleasant days of the past； as she
sat in the still； deserted music…room； where the instruments stood
silent by the wallwhere there were no hands to entice the cheerful
melodies from the strings； as there had once been。
〃I wish that I had never sung duets with Garat；〃 whispered the queen
to herself。 〃The king allowed me； but yet I ought not to have done
it。 A queen has no right to be free； merry； and happy。 A queen can
practise the fine arts only alone； and in the silence of her own
apartments。 I would I had never sung with Garat。〃 ＇Footnote： The
queen's own words。See 〃Memoires de Madame de Campan；〃 vol。 ii。＇
She sat down before the spinet and opened it。 Her fingers glided
softly over the keys； and for the first time； in long months of
silence； the room resounded with the tones of music。
But； alas！ it was no cheerful music which the fingers of the queen
drew from the keys； it was only the notes of pain； only cries of
grief； and yet they recalled the happy by…gone timesthose golden；
blessed days； when the Queen of France was the friend of the arts；
and when she received her early teacher； the great maestro and
chevalier； Gluck； in Versailles； when she took sides for him against
the Italian maestro Lully； and when all Paris divided into two
parties； the Gluckists and Lullyists； waging a bloodless war against
each other。 Happy Paris！ A