Sous ce double déguisement
Riant d’être ignorée,
Je vous nomme et publiquement
Vous serez adorée.[16]
“I implore you, Prince, my very dear Prince, do not massacre my song in honouring me by singing it yourself; leave that care to my cousin, who will give it its full value; love her for me, and tell her I shall go to Brussels, on my head if necessary, to see her; you must love me, both of you.”[17]
The Queen was an object of devotion to the Prince de Ligne. “Who could see the unfortunate Marie Antoinette without adoring her?” he writes thirty years later.[18] “I only realised it the day she said to me: ‘My mother is displeased at your remaining so long at Versailles; go and spend some days at your post; from thence write letters to Vienna, in order to show where you are, then come back.’ Such kindness, such delicacy on her part, and still more the idea of having to spend a fortnight without seeing her, drew tears from my eyes; but the charming heedlessness, which preserved her from all coquetry prevented her noticing my emotion.
“As I do not believe in a passion which cannot be reciprocated, a fortnight was sufficient to cure me of a sentiment I now admit for the first time, and which, for fear of ridicule, I never should have confessed to any one else.... Have I ever seen in her society anything that did not bear the impress of grace, kindliness, and good taste? She intuitively knew an intriguer miles off, and hated every kind of deceit; that is why she preferred the society of the Polignacs and their friends—that is to say, Valentine Esterhazi, Bésenval, Vaudreuil, Ségur, and myself.”
If the Prince worshipped the Queen, on the other hand he had little esteem for the King. He writes: “The King—in whom I hoped to find some good qualities, whom it may be said I have protected, whose mind I have endeavoured to elevate by interesting discourses, instead of his hunting topics or idiotic conversation—cares for nothing but tomfoolery. His practical jokes are always aimed at Conflans, Coigny, or the Polignacs’ friends. The Queen has managed to cure him of this habit. It was at bedtime that his Majesty liked to worry us. He possessed, however, a certain tact in the midst of his rough jokes. One day, when he was threatening us with his blue ribbon, which he tried to throw at some one’s head, the Duc de Laval withdrew. The King said: ‘Do not fear, Monsieur; it has nothing to do with you.’... Coigny, the eternal fault-finder, said to me one day: ‘Would you like to know what these three brothers are? A fat locksmith, the wit of a country public-house, and a street fop.’ The two last epithets applied to Monsieur and the Comte d’Artois.”
When the Prince returned to Bel Œil he delighted his youthful daughter-in-law with these tales; for although she liked Flanders fairly well when not there alone with her mother-in-law, she could not help regretting Paris, when her husband’s duties recalled him to the army, and her fickle father-in-law went off on his incessant travels.
It will be remembered that the Dowager-Princess had absolutely refused to consent to a residence in Paris during the winter months. She was right, for although the officers generally returned to their respective capitals during the bad season, the military profession did not allow much leisure time, and Prince Charles, being in the Austrian service, would scarcely have been able to spend his leave in Paris. The young Princess would therefore have been left to the care of an aunt, who had no authority over her, or to that of a father-in-law, more absorbed in amusing himself than acting as mentor to his daughter-in-law. This delicate and dangerous position had naturally alarmed the Princesse de Ligne, but Hélène had not such foresight; the pleasure she anticipated of appearing in the brilliant society of which she had only just caught a glimpse outweighed any feelings of prudence, and she quite hoped to obtain her husband’s consent in the matter.