The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette

by Clegg, Melanie

  'Would you like me to sit with you for a while?' I felt very shy, as we have not spoken much since her arrival in Vienna. I do not think that any of us have spoken to her as much as perhaps we ought to have done. Other than Papa, of course, who makes a point of talking to everyone and anyone who enters his presence and has been very kind to Josephina. I think that perhaps we were all still very sad about poor Isabella when she arrived and Joseph was the saddest of all and the arrival of a new wife just seemed so wrong somehow and so poor Josephina ended up neglected, when really we ought to have been kind to her.

  Josephina looked at me and smiled in a way that somehow managed to make her seem even sadder than before. 'Of course,' she said politely, carefully marking her place in her book and then putting it down beside her on the bench, where a small, plump black and white spaniel lay asleep, his tail wagging idly as he slumbered. 'It is a lovely day is it not?'

  I nodded, understanding that she was making conversation. 'Yes, it has been lovely this year. Have you walked down to Papa's botanic garden yet? It is very pretty at the moment.' Papa loves gardening and has been building a collection of rare plants and trees in the vast parkland that surrounds Schönbrunn. Mama likes to tease him by saying that he loves his plants more than he loves her, which is silly of course but sometimes he talks about his rare flowers in such a way that it is almost as if he loves them more than anything.

  Josephina nodded. 'I love to walk there.' Her voice is very low and almost gruff, which is not as unpleasant as that sounds. 'You are very fortunate to have such a father,' she said suddenly. 'My own father is dead and I still miss him very much.'

  'Oh.' I did not know what else to say. 'I am sorry.' I tried to imagine what it would be like to have my Papa taken away but just couldn't. It is just too awful to think about.

  'He was a good man,' she said. 'Like your father.' She smiled and I could tell that she shares my hero worship of Papa, which made me feel much more friendly towards her. I stole a look at Josephina from beneath my eyelashes, thinking that actually she isn't really ugly after all although we all laughed at her when she first arrived because she is much smaller than all of us and has thick dark hair and brown eyes. 'Like a monkey', Amalia had commented and of course, secretly, the nickname has stuck. Her eyes are nice though and she has a pretty mouth and a straight nose, which is very important. She could look worse, in other words, but would look even better if she dressed in lighter, prettier colours (she has a fondness for dark blues and greens and a horrible maroon) and asked her maids to arrange her hair in a more flattering way instead of pulling it back very tightly into a bun and then pinning an absurd little lace cap on top. It looks worse when she powders it though as the contrast with her thick, dark eyebrows is quite absurd. Do they not have tweezers in Bavaria?

  'It must be very horrible to be so far away from home,' I blurted out. 'I expect that I will be going away one day to be married as well and I do not think that I will like it at all.'

  Josephina laughed. 'Oh, but that will not happen for many years to come,' she said. 'You have many years here with your family ahead of you.' She sighed. 'I am already twenty six years old and believed that I would always be at home with my mother. It did not seem like anyone wanted to marry me and I had long since reconciled myself to the prospect of remaining a spinster.' She shrugged. 'I was quite amazed when my mother told me that a proposal had arrived from Vienna.'

  Twenty six? I knew that she was old but had no idea that she was quite so ancient! No wonder Joseph is annoyed with her. I struggle to hide my consternation but find that Josephina is watching me with amusement.

  'You are wondering why your handsome brother agreed to marry such an elderly bride, are you not?' She smiled and patted my hand. 'I often wonder that myself and I am afraid that I have no answers. All I know is that he asked your mother to choose his wife for him and her choice fell on me.' She started to nervously play with a fold of her dark blue silk skirt, pleating it into a fan shape then smoothing it out and beginning again. 'It is not easy to be married to someone who is still mourning for his first wife,' she said after a pause. 'My cousin, Maria Josepha of Saxony, was in exactly the same situation when she was married to the widower Dauphin of France. Her husband was still in love with his dead wife but in time she managed to make him love her instead and she often writes to say that they are very happy together now.' She sighed, before giving a start and turning faintly pink as she recollected to whom she was speaking. 'I am sorry, I ought not to speak to you like this. Please do forgive me.'

  I smiled. People often tell me things that I really ought not to know. I think that it is because I am so very small and they think that I do not quite understand or perhaps it is because I am very good at listening to people's problems. 'It is not important,' I said reassuringly. 'I will not repeat any of this elsewhere.' I absolutely meant it as well. I wanted to hear more about Josephina's glamorous cousin, the French Dauphine, but decided to leave this for another day.

  Saturday, 20th July, a very dull French lesson.

  Consternation! My elder brother Leopold is getting married next month in Innsbruck and Ferdinand, Max, Carolina and I are being left behind in Vienna with the servants while everyone else goes off to have a lovely time at the wedding. This is so unfair! Joseph's wedding was held in Vienna and we even got to dance in a special ballet composed by Gluck for the occasion. 'Il Trionfo d'Amore' with me as a shepherdess (in a very pretty blue and white swagged silk dress and with flowers in my hair) and Max playing the fattest, sweetest cupid ever with tiny little pink wings on his back. It was such good fun and afterwards, Mama took me upon her knee, kissed my hot cheeks and said that she was very proud of me.

  Why can't Leopold's wedding be just like that?

  Thursday, 1st August.

  They have all gone and it is now oddly quiet here at Schönbrunn. The palace was in uproar all day as the court packed up and prepared to move on to Innsbruck. Mama, of course, was ready to leave days ago as she plans every move with military precision and cannot abide to be kept waiting by anyone. Papa and Joseph however were in disorder until the very last minute and so dozens of servants have charged up and down the sweeping marble staircases all day in search of 'the Emperor's boots' or 'the Archduke Joseph's favourite dog', the latter being discovered cowering underneath Amalia's bed. Poor animal. We tempted it out with chocolates and gingerbread biscuits.

  Our sister Josepha came to see us in our schoolroom before she left and promised to bring us back sweets and all manner of treats to make up for being left behind. 'I would not have liked it either,' she said with a sympathetic smile. 'It will be different when you are my age.' She is fourteen now and is treated like a grown up by Mama and Papa, although I know she enjoys playing in the gardens just as much as I do. Elizabeth is considered to be the beauty of the family but I think that Josepha is far prettier – she has thick corn coloured hair, enormous soft blue eyes and a pretty pink and white complexion with cheeks that flush bright red whenever she is the slightest bit embarrassed or excited. She looks just as I would imagine the princess in a fairy story to look, wears pretty pink silk dresses and always smells deliciously of roses and violets.

  'Oh, Josepha, I will miss you so much.' I flung my arms around her slim waist and for a moment we embraced before she smiled and held me at arm's length.

  'Promise that you will be good while we are all away?' she said, just as Mama would do except with a smile instead of a fearsome frown. 'We will be back before you know it and with a new sister to love as well.'

  She said this as though it was the most delightful thing imaginable but I pulled a face. A portrait of Leopold's bride, the Princess Maria Luisa of Spain was sent to Vienna a few months ago so that we could all see what she looked like. The couple had already been married by proxy over a year beforehand but had yet to actually meet in person so Leopold was full of impatience when the portrait arrived and then was unveiled before the entire royal family in the small gallery. Maria Luisa
is not ugly but she is not as pretty as any of us (I am pleased to note) and has a big nose, thin face and mean little eyes. Like a shrew. I am not disposed to like her.

  Josepha saw my mutinous expression and laughed. 'I do not expect the Princess of Spain to be very pretty but she is said to be very amiable indeed.' She leaned down and kissed my cheek. 'Promise that you will be nice to her?' she whispered. 'It must be horrible indeed to come to a new country and a new family and it is a fate that will befall us all one day so we must be understanding and take care not to hurt her feelings.'

  'I suppose so.'

  Countess Brandeis took Carolina and me downstairs to watch everyone leave from the palace courtyard. It was madly exciting as everything was in chaos as hundreds of courtiers bundled themselves, their little dogs and their belongings into their carriages and then bickered about precedence and who should be the first to leave after the royal family, while liveried servants dashed smartly in between the vehicles with band boxes, dogs and luggage piled high in their arms. It was hard not to feel aggrieved when our elder sisters swept past on their way to their gilt decorated carriage, all looking divinely pretty in matching traveling dresses of dark pink silk, with adorable little feathered hats set at an angle on their powdered ringlets and with their pug dogs tucked under one arm. Christina pretended not to see us (we are too young and insignificant to be worthy of her attention, of course) but the others all smiled and blew us kisses from the windows.

  Mama was already in her huge carriage at the front of the procession and she beckoned the Countess to bring us both forward to say our goodbyes. An attendant footman in the Imperial livery let down the wooden steps with a thrilling clatter and opened the door and we both climbed inside and sat on the pale green velvet seats so that we were facing her. She was dressed in a voluminous traveling dress of soft crimson velvet and smelt of lilies and jasmine. Her favourite pale grey pug sat on her knee and closed his eyes sleepily and yawned revealing black speckled gums as she slowly stroked his sleek head. 'I trust that you will both be good girls in our absence,' she said, looking at us both with her bright blue eyes that seemed to see absolutely everything. 'The Countess will be writing to me every day with reports about your progress, so rest assured that I will be kept informed of even the slightest and most insignificant misdemeanors.'

  'Yes, Mama,' we both chorused, trying not to smirk as we both knew that the Countess does not know about half of the naughty things that we get up to.

  'Maria Carolina, I hope that you will pay especial attention to your Italian while we are away,' Mama remarked with a sigh. 'The Countess has informed me that your grasp of grammar is still less than perfect and there is much room for improvement.'

  'Yes, Mama.' Carolina dipped her head submissively and gave me a swift, sidelong look. 'I am sorry, Mama.' She did not really sound very sorry at all.

  'As for you, Maria Antonia...' Mama gave another great sigh and brushed imaginary crumbs from her crimson skirts, disturbing the little dog on her lap who stared up at her reproachfully. 'I hardly know where to begin. You must pay more attention to your teachers.' I chanced a quick glance up at her face and then quickly looked away as I met her disappointed gaze. 'I am told that you are barely able to read and write and that your French is appalling, your Italian barely passable and even your written German is flawed beyond what can be considered excusable.'

  I felt sick. 'I am sorry, Mama.' What else could I say? I know that I am not very clever but there is no point at all trying to explain this to my mother, who expects, nay demands, excellence in all things and especially in her children. 'I promise to try harder.' Lies, of course, because just the thought of it makes a headache come on and I know that an hour spent playing outside with my friends will push all thoughts of educational self improvement straight out of my head.

  'You are not a stupid girl, Maria Antonia,' Mama continued, still in that dreadful disappointed tone of voice that I knew so well. 'If you would only apply yourself more then I am sure that you could be a very fine young woman indeed.'

  'Yes, Mama.' I looked down at my feet, impatient now to escape. Why must she always be so critical and dwell so much on our failings? Note how she never seems to make any mention of the things that we happen to be good at? I am good at dancing and music, for instance and Carolina's French is superb. If only she would give some praise once in a while – perhaps it would encourage us to try harder at everything else.

  She beckoned us forward one after the other to kiss the violet powder scented imperial cheek and then we were summarily dismissed and handed down by the footman into the care of the Countess, who looked flushed and desperately guilty now that we knew that she had betrayed our shortcomings to Mama.

  'I do not blame you, Countess,' Carolina said, as soon as we were safely out of Mama's annoyingly formidable earshot. 'I know that you have to tell Mama everything or lose your position.'

  'I am sorry, Archduchess,' the Countess said miserably, looking like she would like to say even more but hardly dared to do so. 'I know that her censure comes from her great love and concern for you all.'

  'Strange then that the only one of us who can do no wrong is Christina,' Carolina muttered grimly, kicking a stray pebble across the cobbles. The Countess sighed but said nothing.

  Papa was last to leave and he came over to give us both one last kiss before mounting his white horse. He is a large, active man and hates to feel cooped up inside a carriage and so likes to ride with his friends whenever the court travels anywhere. I am sure that Mama would much rather that he traveled in her carriage with her but she always smiles and allows Papa to do exactly as he pleases.

  'I am sure that your Mama has already told you to be a good girl, Antonia,' he said with a deep laugh, as he picked me up easily into his arms and kissed me soundly on both cheeks, the feathers on his black tricorne hat tickling my cheek, 'so I will only make you promise to be a happy one.' He kissed me on the nose and then placed me carefully back on the ground, before digging some lemon bonbons out of his spacious riding coat pockets and cramming them into my hands.

  'Thank you, Papa.' I smiled up at him. 'I hope you have a good journey.' We stood back and watched admiringly as he swung up onto his horse and gathered the red leather reins, ready to ride off. Mama calls him the most handsome man in all of her lands and we absolutely believe this to be true. No one could look more splendid or better looking than our Papa when he is astride his white stallion.

  The great imperial cavalcade slowly began to rumble out of the huge courtyard and we dutifully stood aside and waved as Mama and our elder brothers and sisters drove past in their splendid carriages and they just as dutifully waved back, looking faintly smug that they were on their way to all the fun of a wedding while we were left behind at Schönbrunn. Max and Ferdinand joined us in the courtyard, both of them looking grumpy and faintly rebellious. I guessed (rightly) that they had both been lectured by Mama as well.

  'When I get married, I will not be inviting Leopold to the wedding,' Ferdinand muttered with a scowl. 'I shall not even send him any of the cake.' It is only fair to explain at this point that Ferdinand is exceedingly fond of cake. He has also been engaged for several years, since they were both infants in fact, to the daughter and heiress of the Duke of Modena. We often like to tease him about his 'petite fiancée' that he has never even seen.

  We all laughed at this and even Ferdinand cracked a begrudging smile. 'Alright, he can have some cake but he isn't allowed to come to the ceremony or to any of the parties afterwards.'

  We watched the carriages for a while but this soon became very boring as they moved so slowly and there were so many of them. 'Oh, it is so unfair!' Carolina ejaculated, turning away impatiently. 'I wish that we could have gone with them!' Countess Brandeis took her by the hand and began to lead her up the steps and back into the palace, with myself and our brothers following close behind. There was nothing else to see after all, now that Mama and Papa had gone.

  There was a
clattering of horse's hooves and a great shouting and fuss behind us. We turned around in some surprise and there was Papa again, weaving his great, white horse in between the carriages and waving at us to stop.

  'I wonder what he has forgotten this time,' the Countess muttered with a sigh. Papa is well known for being scatter brained and somewhat forgetful. Mama laughs and calls it one of his more 'endearing qualities', which is surprising because she would be furious and impatient if it was anyone else and especially one of her children.