Once Upon A Time...

In a land far far away, there lived a beautiful princess. She had a huge palace full of glittering chandeliers, and servants to fulfil her every wish. Who wouldn’t want to be just like her?

Well me, for one. The tale of Marie Antoinette, her lavish lifestyle, her playing at being a milkmaid, and her ultimate downfall at the hands of revolutionary mob has always fascinated me, ever since reading her story in a Blue Peter annual from about 1972, with pictures of Valerie Singleton at the Petit Trianon dressed as the princess. So, when the chance came to take a detour on a family holiday to visit the Palace of Versailles, I was pretty excited.

We got lost on the way, couldn’t find a car park, and then queued for an hour and a half to get in, but that didn’t diminish the awe I felt at simply being there, standing in front of the ornate gilt gates of the palace, trying to imagine away the crowds, and replace the cars with carriages and the staff with Swiss Guards. And I must admit, even having studied the French Revolution at University, and read a biography (and seen the film) of Marie Antoinette, I found it hard to ignore the constant camera flashes and tourists (I say this like I wasn’t a tourist myself!) elbowing one another aside for the best view. My dad and sister, with no more than a passing interest in history, saw nothing more than a series of rooms full of fancy furniture and old paintings, and were keen to get outside to the fountains and gardens.  

There was one room, though, where I really felt the enormity of past events, and the importance of this place for French, and indeed world, history. In Marie Antoinette’s bedchamber, the audio guide described how the mob stormed the gates, and entered the palace. Marie’s guards, in the room adjoining her bed chamber, fled in fear of the revolutionary Parisians and left the Queen to their mercy. Her huge four poster bed stood before me, as lavish as anyone could wish for, but none of her fine furnishings or loyal (ish) servants could save her now. She fled, through a small door, wallpapered to look like part of the wall. This was the end of her privileged life as Queen of France, and looking at the little, unassuming door that saved her, at least for a little while, it was suddenly easy to picture the Japanese and American tourists (there seemed to be very few European visitors) as the angry mob, baying for blood – or just a good facebook photo – and to imagine her fear as she and her ladies in waiting escaped, not knowing what would happen next.

Marie Antoinette is often seen as a silly girl, too rich and spoilt for her own good. Her (supposed) comment of ‘let them eat cake’ has been used to prove how out of touch she was with the reality of life for many Frenchmen. But this remark had been attributed to many French figures before Marie, to the same effect, and was simply symbolic propaganda against the young queen. She is also ridiculed for her building of a perfectly picturesque hamlet, complete with duck pond, where she could escape from the hustle and bustle of court life and pretend, for a while, to be a simple woman living in the countryside (albeit without any of the hard work involved in a real country life).  After a day of being surrounded by people, of being funnelled through the King’s and Queen’s Apartments in the Palace and standing in really very long queues, the sense of relief and peace when we reached Marie Antoinette’s estates was immense. The beauty of the village she had built, although clearly designed, was much more to my, and my family’s, taste than the Palace itself, and if I had a bottomless purse and had to live a life where courtiers watched my every move, from mealtimes to bedtimes, I think I would build myself a quiet little haven a lot like this one.

So, I don’t think Marie Antoinette was all bad, although obviously she wasn’t perfect either. I think that the Palace of Versailles could be better managed, maybe with a pre-booking system or, even, with a ban on photography in the Palace (the flashes can’t do the centuries old paintings and furnishings any good anyway), to make the visitor feel less stressed and provide a little more breathing space. But in amongst a very busy day there were real moments of beauty, and of connection with the past.