The Queen's Necklace

The Queen's Necklace is historical fiction based on an actual scandal in the court of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI during 1784-85, "The Diamond Necklace Affair". The Diamond Necklace Affair contributed to the discrediting of the Marie Antoinette and the monarchy of Louis XVI prior to the French Revolution. The backdrop is the rebellious state of the French people due in part to adverse weather and crop failures affecting the food supply and price of bread during the 1780s, contrasted to the extravagance of the French monarchy. The Queen's Necklace is the 3rd novel in the Marie Antoinette series by Alexandre Dumas.


By : Alexandre Dumas (1802 - 1870)

01 - Prologue, Part I. The Predictions



02 - Prologue, Part Ii. M. De La Perouse



03 - I. Two Unknown Ladies



04 - Ii. An Interior



05 - Iii. Jeanne De La Motte Valois



06 - Iv. Belus



07 - V. The Road To Versailles



08 - Vi. Laurent



09 - Vii. The Queen's Bed-chamber



10 - Viii. The Queen's Petite Levee



11 - Ix. The Swiss Lake



12 - X. The Tempter



13 - Xi. M. De Suffren



14 - Xii. M. De Charny



15 - Xiii. The One Hundred Louis Of The Queen



16 - Xiv. M. Fingret



17 - Xv. The Cardinal De Rohan



18 - Xvi. Mesmer And St. Martin



19 - Xvii. The Bucket



20 - Xviii. Mademoiselle Olivia



21 - Xix. Monsieur Beausire



22 - Xx. Gold



23 - Xxi. La Petite Maison



24 - Xxii. Some Words About The Opera



25 - Xxiii. The Ball At The Opera



26 - Xxiv. The Examination



27 - Xxv. The Academy Of M. Beausire



28 - Xxvi. The Ambassador



29 - Xxvii. Messrs. Boehmer And Bossange



30 - Xxviii. The Ambassador's Hotel



31 - Xxix. The Bargain



32 - Xxx. The Journalist's House



33 - Xxxi. How Two Friends Became Enemies



34 - Xxxii. The House In The Rue St. Gilles



35 - Xxxiii. The Head Of The Taverney Family



36 - Xxxiv. The Stanzas Of M. De Provence



37 - Xxxv. The Princess De Lamballe



38 - Xxxvi. The Queen



39 - Xxxvii. An Alibi



40 - Xxxviii. M. De Crosne



41 - Xxxix. The Temptress



42 - Xl. Two Ambitions That Wish To Pass For Two Loves



43 - Xli. Faces Under Their Masks



44 - Xlii. In Which M. Ducorneau Understands Nothing Of What Is Passing



45 - Xliii. Illusions And Reality



46 - Xliv. Oliva Begins To Ask What They Want Of Her



47 - Xlv. The Deserted House



48 - Xlvi. Jeanne The Protectress



49 - Xlvii. Jeanne Protected



50 - Xlviii. The Queen's Portfolio



51 - Xlix. In Which We Find Dr. Louis



52 - L. Aegri Somnia



53 - Li. Andree



54 - Lii. Delirium



55 - Liii. Convalescence



56 - Liv. Two Bleeding Hearts



57 - Lv. The Minister Of Finance



58 - Lvi. The Cardinal De Rohan



59 - Lvii. Debtor And Creditor



60 - Lviii. Family Accounts



61 - Lix. Marie Antoinette As Queen And Madame De La Motte As Woman



62 - Lx. The Receipt Of Mm. Boehmer And Bossange, And The Gratitude Of The Queen



63 - Lxi. The Prisoner



64 - Lxii. The Look Out



65 - Lxiii. The Two Neighbors



66 - Lxiv. The Rendezvous



67 - Lxv. The Queen's Hand



68 - Lxvi. Woman And Queen



69 - Lxvii. Woman And Demon



70 - Lxviii. The Night



71 - Lxix. The Conge



72 - Lxx. The Jealousy Of The Cardinal



73 - Lxxi. The Flight



74 - Lxxii. The Letter And The Receipt



75 - Lxiii. ''roi Ne Puis, Prince Ne Daigne, Rohan Je Suis''



76 - Lxxiv. Love And Diplomacy



77 - Lxxv. Charny, Cardinal And Queen



78 - Lxxvi. Explanations



79 - Lxxvii. The Arrest



80 - Lxxviii. The Proces-verbal



81 - Lxxix. The Last Accusation



82 - Lxxx. The Proposal Of Marriage



83 - Lxxxi. St Denis



84 - Lxxxii. A Dead Heart



85 - Lxxxiii. In Which It Is Explained Why The Baron De Taverney Grew Fat



86 - Lxxxiv. The Father And The Fiancee



87 - Lxxxv. After The Dragon, The Viper



88 - Lxxxvi. How It Came To Pass That M. Beausire Was Tracked By The Agents Of M. Crosne



89 - Lxxxvii. The Turtles Are Caged



90 - Lxxxviii. The Last Hope Lost



91 - Lxxxix. The Baptism Of The Little Beausire



92 - Xc. The Trial



93 - Xci. The Execution



94 - Xcii. The Marriage


It was the beginning of April, 1784, between twelve and one o'clock. Our old acquaintance, the Marshal de Richelieu, having with his own hands colored his eyebrows with a perfumed dye, pushed away the mirror which was held to him by his valet, the successor of his faithful Raffè and shaking his head in the manner peculiar to himself, "Ah!" said he, "now I look myself;" and rising from his seat with juvenile vivacity, he commenced shaking off the powder which had fallen from his wig over his blue velvet coat, then, after taking a turn or two up and down his room, called for his maître-d'hôtel.

In five minutes this personage made his appearance, elaborately dressed.

The marshal turned towards him, and with a gravity befitting the occasion, said, "Sir, I suppose you have prepared me a good dinner?"

"Certainly, your grace."

"You have the list of my guests?"

"I remember them perfectly, your grace; I have prepared a dinner for nine."

"There are two sorts of dinners, sir," said the marshal.

"True, your grace, but——"

The marshal interrupted him with a slightly impatient movement, although still dignified.

"Do you know, sir, that whenever I have heard the word 'but,' and I have heard it many times in the course of eighty-eight years, it has been each time, I am sorry to say, the harbinger of some folly."

"Your grace——"

"In the first place, at what time do we dine?"

"Your grace, the citizens dine at two, the bar at three, the nobility at four——"

"And I, sir?"

"Your grace will dine to-day at five."

"Oh, at five!"

"Yes, your grace, like the king——"

"And why like the king?"

"Because, on the list of your guests, is the name of a king."

"Not so, sir, you mistake; all my guests to-day are simply noblemen."

"Your grace is surely jesting; the Count Haga,[A] who is among the guests——"

"Well, sir!"

"The Count Haga is a king."

"I know no king so called."

"Your grace must pardon me then," said the maître-d'hôtel, bowing, "but, I believed, supposed——"

"Your business, sir, is neither to believe nor suppose; your business is to read, without comment, the orders I give you. When I wish a thing to be known, I tell it; when I do not tell it, I wish it unknown."

The maître-d'hôtel bowed again, more respectfully, perhaps, than he would have done to a reigning monarch.

"Therefore, sir," continued the old marshal, "you will, as I have none but noblemen to dinner, let us dine at my usual hour, four o'clock."

At this order, the countenance of the maître-d'hôtel became clouded as if he had heard his sentence of death; he grew deadly pale; then, recovering himself, with the courage of despair he said, "In any event, your grace cannot dine before five o'clock."

"Why so, sir?" cried the marshal.

"Because it is utterly impossible."

"Sir," said the marshal, with a haughty air, "it is now, I believe, twenty years since you entered my service?"

"Twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks."

"Well, sir, to these twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks, you will not add a day, nor an hour. You understand me, sir," he continued, biting his thin lips and depressing his eyebrows; "this evening you seek a new master. I do not choose that the word impossible shall be pronounced in my house; I am too old now to begin to learn its meaning."

The maître-d'hôtel bowed a third time.

"This evening," said he, "I shall have taken leave of your grace, but, at least, up to the last moment, my duty shall have been performed as it should be;" and he made two steps towards the door.

"What do you call as it should be?" cried the marshal. "Learn, sir, that to do it as it suits me is to do it as it should be. Now, I wish to dine at four, and it does not suit me, when I wish to dine at four, to be obliged to wait till five."

"Your grace," replied the maître-d'hôtel, gravely, "I have served as butler to his highness the Prince de Soubise, and as steward to his eminence the Cardinal de Rohan. With the first, his majesty, the late King of France, dined once a year; with the second, the Emperor of Austria dined once a month. I know, therefore, how a sovereign should be treated. When he visited the Prince de Soubise, Louis XV. called himself in vain the Baron de Gonesse; at the house of M. de Rohan, the Emperor Joseph was announced as the Count de Packenstein; but he was none the less emperor. To-day, your grace also receives a guest, who vainly calls himself Count Haga—Count Haga is still King of Sweden. I shall leave your service this evening, but Count Haga will have been treated like a king."

"But that," said the marshal, "is the very thing that I am tiring myself to death in forbidding; Count Haga wishes to preserve his incognito as strictly as possible. Well do I see through your absurd vanity; it is not the crown that you honor, but yourself that you wish to glorify; I repeat again, that I do not wish it imagined that I have a king here."

"What, then, does your grace take me for? It is not that I wish it known that there is a king here."

"Then in heaven's name do not be obstinate, but let us have dinner at four."

"But at four o'clock, your grace, what I am expecting will not have arrived."

"What are you expecting? a fish, like M. Vatel?"

"Does your grace wish that I should tell you?"

"On my faith, I am curious."

"Then, your grace, I wait for a bottle of wine."

"A bottle of wine! Explain yourself, sir, the thing begins to interest me."

"Listen then, your grace; his majesty the King of Sweden—I beg pardon, the Count Haga I should have said—drinks nothing but tokay."

"Well, am I so poor as to have no tokay in my cellar? If so, I must dismiss my butler."

"Not so, your grace; on the contrary, you have about sixty bottles."

"Well, do you think Count Haga will drink sixty bottles with his dinner?"

"No, your grace; but when Count Haga first visited France, when he was only prince royal, he dined with the late king, who had received twelve bottles of tokay from the Emperor of Austria. You are aware that the tokay of the finest vintages is reserved exclusively for the cellar of the emperor, and that kings themselves can only drink it when he pleases to send it to them."

"I know it."

"Then, your grace, of these twelve bottles of which the prince royal drank, only two remain. One is in the cellar of his majesty Louis XVI.——"

"And the other?"

"Ah, your grace!" said the maître-d'hôtel, with a triumphant smile, for he felt that, after the long battle he had been fighting, the moment of victory was at hand, "the other one was stolen."

"By whom, then?"

"By one of my friends, the late king's butler, who was under great obligations to me."

"Oh! and so he gave it to you."

"Certainly, your grace," said the maître-d'hôtel with pride.

"And what did you do with it?"

"I placed it carefully in my master's cellar."

"Your master! And who was your master at that time?"

"His eminence the Cardinal de Rohan."

"Ah, mon Dieu! at Strasbourg?"

"At Saverne."

"And you have sent to seek this bottle for me!" cried the old marshal.

"For you, your grace," replied the maître-d'hôtel, in a tone which plainly said, "ungrateful as you are."

The Duke de Richelieu seized the hand of the old servant and cried, "I beg pardon; you are the king of maîtres d'hôtel."

"And you would have dismissed me," he replied, with an indescribable shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh, I will pay you one hundred pistoles for this bottle of wine."

"And the expenses of its coming here will be another hundred; but you will grant that it is worth it."

"I will grant anything you please, and, to begin, from to-day I double your salary."

"I seek no reward, your grace; I have but done my duty."

"And when will your courier arrive?"

"Your grace may judge if I have lost time: on what day did I have my orders for the dinner?"

"Why, three days ago, I believe."

"It takes a courier, at his utmost speed, twenty-four hours to go, and the same to return."

"There still remain twenty-four hours," said the marshal; "how have they been employed?"

"Alas, your grace, they were lost. The idea only came to me the day after I received the list of your guests. Now calculate the time necessary for the negotiation, and you will perceive that in asking you to wait till five I am only doing what I am absolutely obliged to do."

"The bottle is not yet arrived, then?"

"No, your grace."

"Ah, sir, if your colleague at Saverne be as devoted to the Prince de Rohan as you are to me, and should refuse the bottle, as you would do in his place——"

"I? your grace——"

"Yes; you would not, I suppose, have given away such a bottle, had it belonged to me?"

"I beg your pardon, humbly, your grace; but had a friend, having a king to provide for, asked me for your best bottle of wine, he should have had it immediately."

"Oh!" said the marshal, with a grimace.

"It is only by helping others that we can expect help in our own need, your grace."

"Well, then, I suppose we may calculate that it will be given, but there is still another risk—if the bottle should be broken?"

"Oh! your grace, who would break a bottle of wine of that value?"

"Well, I trust not; what time, then, do you expect your courier?"

"At four o'clock precisely."

"Then why not dine at four?" replied the marshal.

"Your grace, the wine must rest for an hour; and had it not been for an invention of my own, it would have required three days to recover itself."

Beaten at all points, the marshal gave way.

"Besides," continued the old servant, "be sure, your grace, that your guests will not arrive before half-past four."

"And why not?"

"Consider, your grace: to begin with M. de Launay; he comes from the Bastile, and with the ice at present covering the streets of Paris——"

"No; but he will leave after the prisoners' dinner, at twelve o'clock."

"Pardon me, your grace, but the dinner hour at the Bastile has been changed since your grace was there; it is now one."

"Sir, you are learned on all points; pray go on."

"Madame Dubarry comes from the Luciennes, one continued descent, and in this frost."

"That would not prevent her being punctual, since she is no longer a duke's favorite; she plays the queen only among barons; but let me tell you, sir, that I desire to have dinner early on account of M. de la Pérouse, who sets off to-night, and would not wish to be late."

"But, your grace, M. de la Pérouse is with the king, discussing geography and cosmography; he will not get away too early."

"It is possible."

"It is certain, your grace, and it will be the same with M. de Favras, who is with the Count de Provence, talking, no doubt, of the new play by the Canon de Beaumarchais."

"You mean the 'Marriage of Figaro'?"

"Yes, your grace."

"Why, you are quite literary also, it seems."

"In my leisure moments I read, your grace."

"We have, however, M. de Condorcet, who, being a geometrician, should at least be punctual."

"Yes; but he will be deep in some calculation, from which, when he rouses himself, it will probably be at least half an hour too late. As for the Count Cagliostro, as he is a stranger, and not well acquainted with the customs of Versailles, he will, in all probability, make us wait for him."

"Well," said the marshal, "you have disposed of all my guests, except M. de Taverney, in a manner worthy of Homer, or of my poor Raffè."

The maître-d'hôtel bowed. "I have not," said he, "named M. de Taverney, because, being an old friend, he will probably be punctual."

"Good; and where do we dine?"

"In the great dining-room, your grace."

"But we shall freeze there."

"It has been warmed for three days, your grace; and I believe you will find it perfectly comfortable."

"Very well; but there is a clock striking! Why, it is half-past four!" cried the marshal.

"Yes, your grace; and there is the courier entering the courtyard with my bottle of tokay."

"May I continue for another twenty years to be served in this manner!" said the marshal, turning again to his looking-glass, while the maître-d'hôtel ran down-stairs.

"Twenty years!" said a laughing voice, interrupting the marshal in his survey of himself; "twenty years, my dear duke! I wish them you; but then I shall be sixty—I shall be very old."

"You, countess!" cried the marshal, "you are my first arrival, and, mon Dieu! you look as young and charming as ever."

"Duke, I am frozen."

"Come into the boudoir, then."

"Oh! tête-à-tête, marshal?"

"Not so," replied a somewhat broken voice.

"Ah! Taverney!" said the marshal; and then whispering to the countess, "Plague take him for disturbing us!"

Madame Dubarry laughed, and they all entered the adjoining room.

[A]The name of Count Haga was well known as one assumed by the King of Sweden when traveling in France.

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