Daily Life During the French Revolution by James M. Anderson Page A

next. While she was
being dressed, an usher stood in the doorway and announced the name of visitors
to the lady of honor, who in turn announced them to the queen, who signed
petitions and received notables, who, departing the palace, said their
farewells. Much of the conversation dealt with the theater in Paris: how well
did the actors and actresses do? How many people attended? What lords and
ladies were there?
    The formalities over and the queen fitted out, she returned
to her bedchamber. There the ladies-in-waiting assembled, along with the
bedchamber attendants, the maids, the first gentleman usher, and the clergy who
had the duty that day to escort the queen and the royal princesses with their
entire entourages to Mass. They went off together to the chapel, meeting up
with the king and his large assemblage on the way.
    This procession was most elaborate on Sundays, when the
first gentleman of the king’s bedchamber led the way, followed by the captain
of the guard and then the king and queen. Behind them came the highest-ranking
ladies and gentlemen of the aristocracy. Lesser individuals lined the hallways
to bow and curtsy as the line, four abreast, passed by. Afterwards, the queen
made a deep curtsey to the king before setting off with her entourage to her
rooms.
    Next came the midday dinner, and all of its ritual, which,
again, was the most resplendent on Sundays. Surrounded by their servants, the
king and queen dined together on silver dishes with gilded cutlery. They were
given a menu card to choose from and dishes of fowl, meat, fish, and puddings
were brought before them in great profusion. The wine was tasted by two lackeys
before it was served. Behind the king’s chair stood the captain of the guards
and the first gentleman of the chamber. Behind the queen stood her first
gentleman usher and the chief equerry. The meal began when the maître d ’ hôtel entered the room with a seven-foot staff crowned with a fleur-de-lys, followed
by a legion of servants from the kitchens balancing an array of dishes for the
royals to select from.
    The sumptuous feast finished, the royal pair repaired to
their separate rooms. The queen changed into something less formal and
cumbersome, after which she spent the rest of the afternoon in conversation
with friends and relatives, often playing and listening to harp music. Later
she would take walks in the gardens or perhaps a coach ride in the forest. The
evening was filled first by a splendid supper, the guests carefully selected
for their wit, sociability, and polished manners. An orchestra entertained, the
wine flowed generously, the talk and gossip went on sometimes late in the
candlelight, and women stifled their yawns behind jewel-studded fans.
    Afterwards, in a grand salon, the evening entertainment
continued with various types of gambling. Billiards, card games, or throwing
dice continued long after the king went to bed. Servants stood by to fulfill
all needs, and, once more, the ladies-in-waiting were obliged to attend. The
king retired to bed about eleven every night, and the queen’s ladies were
escorted back to their cell-like rooms to catch a few hours’ sleep before the
routine began all over again. At a late hour, Marie-Antoinette often went
visiting her young friends, such as the princesses de Lamballe and Guéménée in
their apartments—activities that caused much gossip.
    The queen’s favorite haunt was the Petit Trianon, an
elegant seven-room neoclassical building about a mile from the palace. There
she felt comfortable and more serene among the wall hangings, her works of art,
marble fireplaces, writing desks, and cabinets of exotic wood. Ubiquitous
flowers, both inside and out, added to the beauty of the surroundings. She had
had a lake excavated, little hills created, lawns laid down, a temple of love
constructed, and groves of trees from exotic and distant places planted. In
this quiet place she shed her cares, sometimes remaining for an entire month