One of the great mysteries surrounding Marie Antoinette was – and is – the nature of her relationship with Count Axel Fersen.
Throughout her life, the queen was continuously accused of various types of affairs including lesbian affairs, an affair with her brother-in-law (the Comte d’Artois) and a whole array of other candidates. The accusation of adultery was a tried-and-tested way of diminishing the character of a public figure, particularly female ones. However, whereas her contemporaries readily believed any slur against her character, history has been kinder to this aspect of Marie Antoinette’s character.
Yet, her relationship with Count Fersen has never quite escaped further scrutiny and even today some historians consider him to have been the queen’s lover. But was he really?
Marie Antoinette met Count Fersen on New Years’ Day in 1774. The Swedish Count was blessed with a mixture of handsome looks, a vast personal wealth – and a person whose foreign birth meant that he had no allegiance to the complicated system of powerful French families at court. His gentleman-like air and his pleasant manners quickly meant that he was included in the queen’s private circle which included the Princesse de Lamballe, the Duchesse de Polignac and several middle-aged gentlemen of the court.
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| Marie Antoinette in a chemise à la reine - the casual ensemble which Fersen must have seen her in |
Throughout the remaining 15 years of court life, he led a nomadic existence where he frequently visited the French court before disappearing for months – or years – at a time. Thus, the dauphine (and later queen) frequently corresponded with him during his absences.
It was certainly not a matter of love at first sight. Upon their meeting, Fersen was on route to England where he intended to woo an English heiress by the name of Catherine Lyell whereas Marie Antoinette was deeply concerned with the state of her own marriage. It is a tell-tale sign that Fersen did not mention Marie Antoinette personally in his private journal – a pursuit he kept throughout his life, and which frequently discuss the beauty and attractiveness of various ladies he had met on his travels. Neither does Marie Antoinette seem to have considered him as anything more than a welcome breath of fresh air to her social circle.
What exactly was it about their relationship that made even Lady Antonia Fraser (author of one of the most comprehensive biographies on Marie Antoinette) conclude: “But did the Queen in fact sleep with the handsome Count? On balance of probabilities, the answer must be yes”. But must it?
Lady Antonia Fraser herself provides no proof of any physical romance whatsoever. On the contrary, herself admits that the contemporary sources – including the scandalmongering pamphlets which otherwise freely accused the queen of sleeping with anyone she may meet – does not mention it. It would have been irresistible ammunition for her enemies who never drew back from slandering her in any way possible, if the queen had committed that betrayal. In fact, it could have provided the basis for returning her to her native Austria in disgrace. Fraser only provides two contemporary sources for her conclusion: the memoir of the Comtesse de Boigne and the journal of Lady Elizabeth Foster.
The Comtesse de Boigne published her memoirs after the revolution. The main reference to the “affair” made by the Comtesse is the sentence that “intimates scarcely doubted that she yielded to his passion”. The problem with this particular source is that she was born in 1781. She was therefore an infant and toddler when these events allegedly occurred and was therefore not present herself. Neither was she a second-hand witness. Her statement was based on court gossip – a fact that Lady Antonia Fraser herself readily admits – and the court gossiped about everyone. For instance, the Comtesse’s own uncle was also rumoured to have been the queen’s lover, but that gossip was not taken as proof. Considering the sheer number of men that the queen was accused of “entertaining”, she would have had a prodigious track record if even half was true.
The other source mentioned was Lady Elizabeth Foster. As can be gleaned from her name, the author of the journal was an English lady who never met Marie Antoinette. They did, however, share a mutual friend in Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Lady Foster wrote on 29 June 1791 that Fersen was “considered the lover and was certainly the intimate friend of the queen for these last eight years”. In fact, their friendship – platonic or romantic – reached back to 1774. What exactly made Lady Foster consider Fersen to be the lover of the French queen? It is not mentioned. It can therefore be speculated that that was also the biproduct of gossip, particularly because the queen’s reputation was at an all-time low.
A contemporary who was actually present (and an adult) was the Marquis de Bombelles. His memoirs were published in 1978 – long after any sensibilities regarding the persons concerned had ceased to be regarded. He himself mentions the rumour of their relationship but rejects that anything physical took place.
It has been suggested that the silence regarding Fersen in other contemporary sources is a confirmation of something suspicious. To be sure, the queen’s friends might want to lightly pass over any physical affair in correspondence, but her enemies certainly had not such scruples. Considering that foreign ambassadors – for one – had no reason to hide such an affair, it would be odd indeed if they collectively decided to ignore something as grand as the infidelity of a queen. As a parallel example, Queen Caroline Mathilde – wife of King Christian VII of Denmark – had been discovered to have had an affair with the king’s own doctor. Nothing stopped gossip from spreading like wildfire in that (contemporary) case and when the Danish King eventually sent her away, it was likewise widely publicised.
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| Axel von Fersen |
The few contemporary sources that do allude to Fersen’s relationship with the queen never provide any clue, proof or even slight hint at something concrete. On the contrary, those that actively claim that he is “known” to be Marie Antoinette’s lover make that claim on seemingly nothing more than gossip.
Fersen himself exhibited no particular loyalty towards the queen on a romantic level. The Count had a seemingly endless stream of mistresses and continued his pursuit of a wealthy wife. Consequently, even if the count had managed to seduce the queen (or vice versa) the relationship was clearly not an exclusive one on his side. It obviously could not have been exclusive on Marie Antoinette’s side as she was married to Louis XVI.
That leads to another vital aspect to be considered – an aspect that is oddly (and quite uncharacteristically for the otherwise extremely well-written book) omitted in the consideration of an affair between queen and count: the queen’s character. As repeatedly put forward by Lady Fraser herself, the queen was anything but a romantic coquette. Ironically, when (re-) reading Lady Fraser’s book, it is difficult not to be struck by the self-contradictions in the assertion as the author spent page after page denouncing the use of mere gossip as a reliable source (for other incidents, political and courtly) before concluding that such a damaging accusation against the queen must be true – on the basis of gossip. It is, however, a testament to how good Lady Fraser’s book otherwise is that deservedly has received the Enid McLeod Literary Prize.
Of all the charges of frivolity or recklessness put on Marie Antoinette, that of flirtatiousness was omitted. There were two instances where the queen was faced with open attempts at flirtations. One by the Duc de Lauzun whom she icily – but politely – rejected with the freezing “Go, Sir”, after he dared to propose himself as a lover.
Her own brother, Emperor Joseph II, visited Versailles in an attempt at sorting out why the marriage to the king remained unconsummated. Joseph liked his sister but had no illusions about her personality and he certainly did not shy away from ruthless criticism when he saw fit. He described her as sexually prudish – a sentiment echoed by other courtiers. One other courtier noted that she had a talent for being gracious and amiable while simultaneously keeping her male courtiers at an arm’s length.
It should also be considered the history of such intimate pursuits in her life. To Marie Antoinette physical intimacy was a duty required of her to fulfil her role bearing children. Throughout her childhood, this point had been hammered home and when she married the dauphin, she received regular letters from her mother on the subject. Enjoyment or pleasure was never considered an object in that regard. Furthermore, the humiliation of having been constantly scrutinised, blamed and shamed for not consummating her marriage to the king had likely led to that prudishness later observed by her brother. While such unpleasant associations certainly do not mean that she could never have wanted to experience that sort of physical pleasure, it makes it extremely unlikely that she would in one fell swoop turn from being the “prude” to the adulterer.
Marie Antoinette’s sense of duty was another matter. She considered it her unwavering duty to remain by the king’s side – even when her own life was threatened. Upon the outbreak of the revolution, she was given several chances to flee with her son, but she refused on the very ground that her place was by the king’s side. That hardly corresponds to a woman who had happily betrayed him physically. Louis XVI himself might have been a passive monarch in many aspects but there is a reason to suspect that infidelity on behalf of his wife would not have met with passive acceptance. From his childhood he had been inculcated with a suspicion of all things Austrian and when his marriage to the Austrian Archduchess Marie Antoine was announced, he was warned not to trust her. It took her years to gain any kind of trust from him – surely an extramarital affair would have destroyed whatever trust he did develop. One might even say that the king would have seen it as confirmation of all those warnings of his youth.
Furthermore, each sexual encounter would have resulted in the risk of pregnancy or STD. Certainly, birth control in the shape of condoms did exist but they were far from a reliable contraceptive. Considering that even today’s versions are not entirely safe, it is unlikely that the 18th century versions would have been more so. It seems unthinkable – considering Marie Antoinette’s character – that she would have gambled with her position as both queen and mother of the royal children by risking an illegitimate pregnancy. Louis XVI, for one, never doubted that the children she did bear were his.
As has also been stated, the gallant Count was a bit of a womaniser. The risk of contracting a disease would therefore have been heightened by his frequent change of bed partner.
The correspondence between Fersen and Marie Antoinette offers another clue. The queen had a massive network of people with whom she wrote regularly – or as regularly as an irregular correspondent such as herself could. Codenames were normal and several letters addressed to a “Josephine” was likely occasionally the queen – one of her middle names was Josepha. However, she was not the only one whom the gallant Count referred to by that name as several other ladies have been identified as also being “Josephine”. It might simply have been the moniker he chose for ladies whose identity he might not wish to be revealed. Besides using a codename is hardly even an indication that the people involved were engaged in a sexual affair.
Marie Antoinette
Occasionally Fersen referred to staying the night “chez Elle” when he was referring to his various mistresses. Much has been made of his use of that phrase on a singular occasion when he visited court. Once again, it seems a massive leap to conclude that this means that he slept with the queen – particularly because the phrase literally translates to “at her (house)” not “with her”. It would also be odd that after years of discretion he should suddenly openly mention it in his own writings.
An argument occasionally used is that Fersen’s correspondence with the queen during the revolution was published by his descendant. In the first publication, this descendant had redacted or blotted out various sentences which immediately made people assume that this concealed incriminating evidence of a physical affair. For years, the descendent claimed that he had destroyed the remaining evidence “out of respect”. In that respect it is no wonder that people immediately surmised that something untoward had happened. However, the descendent had not been entirely honest. He had not destroyed the evidence and in 1982, the documents were found by other, later descendents of Count Fersen. His redactions were so efficient in the original documents that we cannot know what they said. One reference, however, was revealed from the queen’s hand: “I can tell you that I love you”.
Given the nature of their relationship, it is not unlikely that the queen and the count did have strong feelings for one another, perhaps even romantic feelings. The language of the time – for one – was far more intimate than today. Relationships – platonic and otherwise – were often described in very flowering terms. For instance, it was not unusual for Marie Antoinette to sign letters to her friends and family with declarations of love or fidelity. These “declarations” were fashionable at the time. Yet, trendy as they may have been, they obviously do not eliminate actual declarations of love.
It would be irrational to reject the possibility that they may have been in love – but the conclusion that that resulted in a full-blown, physical affair is equally irrational as well as self-contradictory considering the factors mentioned above.
The conclusion is therefore difficult to make as we can never truly know exactly what occurred between Marie Antoinette and Count Fersen. It is bordering on irresponsible to conclude outright that the two did have a physical affair as no actual evidence exist to proof this. Whether they had a romantic connection seems more likely but the escalation into a full-blown liaison does not follow as a matter of course. It is difficult not to see the continuation of the various accusations of adultery when such conclusions are drawn on a virtually non-existent basis. To continue the question posed by Lady Antonia Fraser – must the queen have had a sexual affair with Count Fersen? On the balance of probabilities – it seems unlikely.
