Nothing could be more innocent than these parties; yet Paris, France, nay,
all Europe, were soon canvassing them in a manner most disadvantageous to
the reputation of Marie Antoinette. It is true that all the inhabitants
of Versailles enjoyed these serenades, and that there was a crowd near the
spot from eleven at night until two or three in the morning. The windows
of the ground floor occupied by Monsieur and Madame--[The wife of
Monsieur, the Comte de Provence.]--were kept open, and the terrace was
perfectly well lighted by the numerous wax candles burning in the two
apartments. Lamps were likewise placed in the garden, and the lights of
the orchestra illuminated the rest of the place.

I do not know whether a few incautious women might not have ventured
farther, and wandered to the bottom of the park; it may have been so; but
the Queen, Madame, and the Comtesse d'Artois were always arm-in-arm, and
never left the terrace. The Princesses were not remarkable when seated on
the benches, being dressed in cambric muslin gowns, with large straw hats
and muslin veils, a costume universally adopted by women at that time; but
when standing up their different figures always distinguished them; and
the persons present stood on one side to let them pass. It is true that
when they seated themselves upon the benches private individuals would
sometimes, to their great amusement, sit down by their side.

A young clerk in the War Department, either not knowing or pretending not
to know the Queen, spoke to her of the beauty of the night, and the
delightful effect of the music. The Queen, fancying she was not
recognised, amused herself by keeping up the incognito, and they talked of
several private families of Versailles, consisting of persons belonging to
the King's household or her own. After a few minutes the Queen and
Princesses rose to walk, and on leaving the bench curtsied to the clerk.