Antiques Shed New Light on a Maligned Queen:
Marie Antoinette

Judith Dunn
All images courtesy Réunion des Musées Nationaux

Thomas Jefferson was of the opinion that the French Revolution of 1789 would never have happened without Marie-Antoinette. Many people still dismiss her as a haughty spendthrift who spent her time playing shepherdesses in the gardens at Versailles while a starving mob howled at the gates. Others, misled by Sophia Coppola’s 2005 film, see her as a self-obsessed airhead à la Diana, Princess of Wales. The stereotypes are no more true of the French queen than they are of the late princess. Her story has been the subject of much scholarly re-examination and an exhibition in Paris in summer 2008 highlighted her human side through a collection of paintings and artifacts.
Marie-Antoinette was born on November 2, 1755 in Vienna and died on the guillotine in Paris on October 16, 1793, at the age of 37. Her short life was exceptional by any standards, overtaken as it was by the forces of history.
Born the Archduchess Maria Antonia Johanna Josepha, she was 15th of the 16 children (8th and last daughter) of Empress Maria Teresa and Emperor Francis Stephen of Austria. Maria Teresa was both a devoted mother and a formidable political operator. She planned her children’s marriages to create and cement alliances throughout Europe. Louis XV of France chose Antoine (as she was known at home) as bride for his grandson, Louis Auguste, in 1766. The couple were betrothed in June 1769 and married the following April at a proxy ceremony in Vienna.
For the 14-year-old dauphine (princess), as Antoine became on her marriage, the journey to France and the encounter with the French court, with its rigorous etiquette, was an ordeal. So too was the hostility of vested interests at court and in the royal family – she was, after all, L’Autrichienne (the Austrian) – but her children would immediately displace her brother-in-law and nephews in the line of succession for the French throne. Things were not made easier by the fact that it was eight years before her marriage was consummated, and that her first child was a girl. It is not surprising, then, that she took refuge in the frivolity and luxury to which her position entitled her. More surprising is the strength of character she later displayed and the supreme dignity with which she met her end.
Here, we select a few objects from the 2008 exhibition at the Grand Palais in Paris that give illuminating vignettes of her life.

Two Japanese Lacquer Boxes and a Writing Table Marie-Antoinette was born at the eastern edge of Europe into a family fascinated by all things Oriental. Maria Teresa often had herself painted in Turkish costume and had a large collection of Japanese lacquer boxes, declaring them to be more valuable to her than diamonds. On her death in 1780, she bequeathed some 50 boxes to Marie-Antoinette, who promptly commissioned Jean-Henri Riesener to make display shelves and cabinets for them. The Queen went on to collect more pieces (71 survive), many through the good offices of Dominique Daguerre. Daguerre was the most prominent marchand-mercier of the time, buying and commissioning items which he then sold on to wealthy clients. His records are a valuable resource when tracing provenance and he was especially diligent in the case of Marie-Antoinette’s lacquer collection. In October 1789, when the Crown’s assets were seized, he made an inventory which even records how and where the boxes were displayed. They were housed in the Queen’s sitting room at Versailles, known as the cabinet doré. In 1783, she had the 1779 textile décor removed and replaced with sumptuous gilded paneling, in tune with her collection. Four tables, topped with petrified wood, bore the most precious items, including this sitting hen. Most of the boxes date from the first third of the eighteenth century and come from workshops in Kyoto or Nagasaki. They were made both for export and for the home market, the taste for lacquer being universal. That Marie-Antoinette made so much of her collection reflects both this taste and her deep attachment to her family. That she revamped the entire room to house them reflects the extravagance that has often been criticized. But the picture of a spendthrift Queen and a cautious King is far from the truth. Louis XVI commissioned freely from top cabinet makers such as Riesener, Jacob and Weisweiler and was notoriously indecisive. In addition, his aunts, the unmarried daughters of Louis XV, were anything but economical. National Museum, Versailles.

Writing Table Besides the lacquer boxes, the cabinet doré also contained this writing table, made by Adam Weisweiler and delivered by Daguerre for the Queen’s 29th birthday on November 2, 1784. The ebony and sycamore veneer with lacquer, bronze and steel reflects the bold confidence Daguerre showed in his commission. Weisweiler’s craftsmanship is evident in the sycamore inlay of two drawers and the superbly executed stretchers. Le Louvre, Paris.

Louis XIV’s Lapis Lazuli Nef Like the Hapsburgs in Vienna, the Bourbons in Paris had a vast collection of precious furniture, jewels, arms and decorative items, much of it amassed by Louis XIV. From 1778, three roomfuls were on public display in what are now the Navy Ministry’s offices. Marie-Antoinette began the tradition of decorating state and private apartments in the various royal palaces. This nef stood on the mantelpiece of her state bedroom at Versailles. In the form of a ship, it dates from the second half of the sixteenth century and is from an unknown hand, but is thought to come from Milan. The silver gilt, enamel and gold mount was made in Paris around 1670. Le Louvre, Paris.

Marie-Antoinette’s Harp Marie-Antoinette was notoriously badly educated. She read little and knew no Latin. Worse, she had never been taught to concentrate. In 1766, Louis XV was appalled at her somewhat approximate French. But music was her passion and she had great talent. She could read music, sing and play the clavichord. The harp was her favorite instrument and her teacher was the gifted Philippe Joseph Hinner. Marie-Antoinette’s patronage brought many celebrated musicians to the French court, notably Gluck. This harp was made by Jean-Henri Naderman, luthier and harp-maker to the Queen, and was delivered in November, 1774, the year of the 19-year-old Queen’s accession. It is decorated with lilies and a cherub bearing the Queen’s arms. The sound board has paintings of Peace and Minerva, patroness of artists. Musée Municipal, Vendôme.

Chair from the Pavillon du Rocher, Petit Trianon, gilded beech The Petit Trianon at Versailles was the Queen’s personal retreat from the demands of the court. There, she could relax with her ladies and her children and indulge their passion for theatricals. In 1780, François Foliot made eight armchairs and eight side chairs, designed by Jacques Gondoin, for the Pavillon du Rocher. This was one of Foliot’s last commissions before being replaced in the Queen’s favor by Georges Jacob. It is possible that the sculptor of the beautiful hymen’s torch uprights on the back and the pierced seat rail were sculpted by Foliot’s uncle, Nicolas Quinibert Foliot. National Museum, Versailles.

Satirical Cartoon Marie-Antoinette was cruelly lampooned throughout her life in France. This (obviously) anonymous cartoon from around 1791 blames her for everything. There are allusions to her alleged infidelity, to the scandal provoked by her alleged greed in the affaire du collier (the necklace affair, too complicated to go into here, but well documented), to the doomed flight to Varennes and to counter-revolutionary intrigue. It shows her carrying the Dauphin, her eldest son, and Louis XVI, followed by her daughter Madame Royale and the King’s aunt Madame Elisabeth, leaping to safety from the Tuileries. The royal couple are both holding the (broken) scepter and are encouraged by the King’s brother, Comte de Provence (left), holding a purse full of money. Beneath are references to the Queen’s alleged sins. As L’Autrichienne, she was always going to carry blame. She undoubtedly made mistakes, but none of the accusations here hold up. Most notably, her relationship with Louis was devoted and he certainly never had any doubt as to the paternity of his children. Ironically, the image of her carrying him is nearer the truth than the cartoonist intended. Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris.

Sketch from Life A sketch, believed to be sur le vif, by Jacques-Louis David of the Queen – or Widow Capet as she was now known, Louis having been executed nine months earlier – shows Marie-Antoinette in the tumbrel on her way to the guillotine on October 16, 1793. She has endured the death of her husband, the separation from her beloved children, the forced calumny of her younger son. David captures all that pain – and the notorious Hapsburg lip so tactfully toned down by Mme Lebrun – but the overwhelming impression is of dignity and composure: a remarkably economical portrait that says so much. A Queen at the last. Le Louvre, Paris. Further reading: if you read French and want to see all the pictures, purchase the Exhibition Catalogue, €49 and worth every cent, from www.rmn.fr. In English, you can’t do better than the 2001 biography, Marie-Antoinette, the Journey, by Antonia Fraser. ISBN 0 297 81908 9.