Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Marie Antoinette


Recently, I finished Evelyne Lever's monumental biography of Marie Antoinette. I think it's even better than Antonia Fraser's book, which has been around for quite a while now. Lever, who lives in Paris, traces the story of the Austrian princess through her idyllic childhood, and the heady days of her marriage to the Dauphin, to her eventual decline and fall. Lever gives us a fascinating insight into the self-absorbed, almost narcissistic world of the Hapsburg royalty.

The little princess was surrounded by fawning courtiers and given every opportunity to enjoy a carefree childhood, even though she was dominated by the imposing will of her mother, the Empress Maria Theresa. It was only when she reached her teenage years that she began to understand that she had a duty to her family that would dictate her destiny. She was obliged to make a favorable marriage. Like a pawn in a political chess game, Marie Antoinette was sacrificed to her mother's grandiose designs on France. There, she was affianced to the quiet, bookish Dauphin.

Following the death of Louis the Fifteenth, Marie Antoinette's husband (as he had become, by this stage) took upon himself the mantle of divine kingship for which he was almost totally unsuitable. Happier riding with the hunt than dealing with affairs of state, Louis XVI relied too much on ministers who did not always have his best interests at heart. Versailles, the seat of government, became a web of intrigue, most of which seemed to go unnoticed by the immature monarch. His wife was not much help. Marie Antoinette was hounded, constantly, by representatives from Austria, encouraging her to do her duty and to influence the King in favor of her mother's empire. But the Queen had discovered the delights of royalty and had no intention of ruining her day with politics. She was a foolish girl, in many respects, not realizing how many people she was offending with her silly games. The balance of power shifted, subtly, as she played off one former favorite against another, setting ancient families against each other. One gets the impression, from Lever's description, that the Queen was not the most intelligent of women. She could be as haughty and imperious as her mother, but without the guile. Despite the ineptitude of her husband, she eventually managed to become a mother. Her playfulness continued, but at least it was tempered by a maternal instinct. Marie Antoinette, very much against the traditions of her age, became an involved and interested parent.

Eventually, however, financial ruin began to stalk the kingdom. To a large degree this was as a result of France's involvement in the American War of Independence, but a series of poor harvests and some appallingly badly timed reforms combined to bring the realm close to bankruptcy. The Queen seemed hardly to notice, at first, continuing to give lavish balls and spend much more than her very large allowance. She was perceived, popularly, as a representative of a foreign power. Designated "L'Autricienne" she was blamed for France's political woes as much as for the shortage of bread. She did not understand that her unpopularity was destined to have fatal consequences.

When the Revolution finally came, both King and Queen were caught up in a rapidly moving maelstrom of events. There were several points at which decisive action could have saved them, and possibly the kingdom, but Louis continued to vacillate and all was lost. It was when she finally had to face the invective of the mob that Marie Antoinette came into her own. She fought for her family, and for a weak king whom she did not really love. She died, unrepentant, the symbol of a bygone era, swallowed up by nascent democracy. Except that it was not democracy that triumphed, it was unrestrained terror. There can be little doubt that Marie Antoinette was executed in order to placate a blood-thirsty mob. Her trial was a sham. The accusations were totally unsubstantiated. In effect, there was really no trial at all, simply a condemnation.
Following her death, and the eventual restoration of the monarchy, Marie Antoinette received a veneration that she did not really deserve; but, then, neither did she deserve to meet her death at the hands of Madame Guillotine.

Edmund Burke, the British politician, observed events across the Channel with growing concern. He correctly predicted the downward spiral into violence, and the necessity of war. He feared that radical reformers in Britain would be encouraged to revolt by what they heard from France. His fears were well founded. Liberty, when it is totally unrestrained by Law quickly turns into Tyranny. Without the moderating influence of commonly held moral beliefs, revolution destroys much more readily than it creates.

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