'Oh, my head hurts!' I complained to Friederike and Charlotte, who had shared my sledge with me and were joining in the fight with as much spirit and enjoyment as everyone else. 'I do not think that I have ever laughed so much in all my life!'
After this we went off to have hot chocolate, coffee and soft, sugary cakes in the palace and warmed ourselves before the big white stoves. It was altogether perfect.
Tuesday, 24th January, a snowy afternoon.
Last night was so thrilling! There was a knock on my door while I was sitting in front of my dressing table in my long white nightgown, watching sleepily in the mirror as one of my maids brushed out my hair, another pressed the brass warming pan in between the cool, cotton sheets of my bed and another stoked up the fire in the little white stove that stands in the corner of the room. Outside, the snow was falling heavily across Vienna and it was a fiercely cold night.
'Who could it be at such an hour?' Clara, the youngest of my maids said as she got up from her station in front of the stove, wiped her grimy hands on her apron and went to open the door. 'Your Highness!' I looked up with some surprise and saw my sister Amalia standing on the threshold, with a hooded red velvet cloak drawn up over her head and a mischievous smile on her lips.
'What is it?' I started up from the dressing table and drew her into the room. 'Is something wrong?' I nodded to my maids to dismiss them and they all bobbed curtseys and filed silently from the room.
'No, nothing is wrong!' Amalia said airily. 'Quite the reverse in fact! How would you like to come out to a ball?' She pulled aside her cloak and I saw that underneath she was wearing a fabulous, spangled gown of blue and silver embroidered brocade. 'Carnival season is in full swing in Vienna, don't you even feel the slightest curiosity to see it for yourself?'
I stared at her. 'Of course, but I never thought...' I had never expected to be allowed to go to any of the masked parties, balls and concerts that marked the thrilling Viennese Carnival. Mama was not entirely approving of the traditional revelries and had banned the masked Carnival goers from the city's streets, expecting them instead to celebrate in their own homes, which they did with spectacular nightly balls and parties. 'Will Mama mind?' I asked, wrapping a shawl around myself over my thin nightgown and sitting down cross legged on my bed.
Amalia laughed. 'No, you goose! Mama must never get to hear of this!' She lowered her voice thrillingly. 'We are to go in secret!'
'In secret?' I gasped, feeling both terrified at going against Mama's wishes and also excited to be doing something for myself and, for once, behaving like an ordinary girl. 'Truly?' Excitement overcame and banished fear and I jumped from the bed and ran to give Amalia a hug. 'Oh truly?'
'Yes, truly!' She kissed my cheek. 'Now, which of your maids do you trust the most? Ring for her and get her to fetch your prettiest dress and a heavy cloak as it is freezing outside. Do you have a mask?'
I was already pulling the bell cord to summon Clara. 'Yes, Joseph gave me one for Christmas. It is gold and very pretty.' I clapped my hands with delight. 'I can hardly believe it! Oh, Amalia, thank you so much!'
Clara was quick to understand what was happening and very readily agreed to keep it a secret from absolutely everyone. Without any fuss, she dressed my hair simply with a long, silken ringlet hanging over my shoulder and then laced me into a blue silk corset and into a lovely pink and gold dress that I had not yet had a chance to wear. Amalia added a touch of rouge to my already rosy cheeks and lips, dabbed some violet scent behind my ears and then fastened a simple diamond necklace around my neck and slipped some pearl bracelets on to my wrists. 'You look utterly delightful,' she said, kissing my cheek. 'Now, let me see you with your mask on! Ah, perfect!'
Clara fastened my blue velvet, fur lined cloak and pulled the hood up cosily over my head. 'I hope that you have a wonderful time, Your Highness,' she said with a grin.
Out we stepped into the gloomy corridor, before slipping down the dark back stairs and out through a series of courtyards until we found ourselves on the outside of the Hofburg. I stood on the street and stared up through the falling snow at the dark walls and tall windows of my home. How different and strange it looked.
'Come on!' Amalia grasped my hand and pulled me around the corner to where a plain black carriage was waiting for us. The coachman jumped down and pulled the door open for us and although he was swathed in a heavy black cloak and mufflers and had a hat pulled down low on his brow, I thought I recognised the sandy hair that fell about his collar.
'Thank you!' I smiled at him as he held my hand and helped me up into the vehicle. 'I had no idea that it was so cold outside.' I spoke in German, determined to be someone else for the night.
He laughed. 'It is indeed, Your Highness! Keep yourself wrapped up warmly!' He closed the door with a slam and then jumped up to the front. Within a few moments the carriage was moving through the deserted, white streets. Amalia smiled and took my hand as I stared with a hungry curiosity from the window at my mother's capital city, which I had never before seen at night. Because of the cold there were few people out and about but on the street corners, there were large cheerful fires in braziers, around which a few brave souls stood and warmed their chilled hands as they laughed and chatted together.
'Where are we going?' I asked at last.
Amalia smiled. 'I told you,' she replied, 'we are going to a party.' She patted my hand and began to hum a tune to herself. 'There will be dancing and young men and all sorts of lovely things. I do hope that you will enjoy it.'
Shortly afterwards the carriage came to a shuddering halt and a moment later the door was wrenched open and the coachman was helping me down on to the icy street. Amalia jumped down after me then nodded to the coachman, took my hand and led me through a large door that led into a pretty courtyard and then on to the main house, whose tall windows spilled light and colour and music on to the snow. I stared around me in wonderment as my sister led me into a large, marble floored entrance hall, which was crammed with splendidly dressed, masked revelers and bustling liveried footmen carrying silver trays laden with dozens of glasses of champagne and small tumblers of schnapps. There were candles everywhere, on every possible surface and the air was thick and heady with the scent of hair powder, pomade and the gorgeous musky perfumes favoured by the women of Vienna.
Amalia dropped back her hood, then undid her cloak with a flourish and handed it to a waiting footman, before signaling that I should do the same. 'Come on, let us go and find some fun!' she said, taking my hand and leading me through the surging, noisy crowd and up a wide marble staircase to an enormous, white and gold candlelit gallery that stretched the length of the house, its windows looking down over a snow covered garden at the back of the mansion. There everything was a swirl of noise and colour as a hidden orchestra played a popular tune and a vast crowd of people danced and cavorted joyously. I shrank behind Amalia a little as I watched a group of laughing young men do their best to snatch the black velvet mask from a lady's face as she pretended to slap them away and gave small, excited shrieks of fear. I began to think that perhaps this was not a good place for me to be.
'Do not be afraid,' Amalia whispered, squeezing my hand tightly and then leading me into the very heart of the crowd. We pushed our way past the boisterous, laughing dancers who clapped and twirled wildly in their brightly coloured clothes and made our way to one of the windows, which was not so densely populated. Amalia relieved a passing footman of two glasses of champagne and handed one to me with a smile. 'Here, drink this! It will give you courage!'
I did as she recommended and almost immediately the fear began to drain away and instead I felt quite exhilarated and began to look about myself quite confidently, even daring to meet the curious stares of some of the young men. 'Does anyone know who we are?' I asked in an undertone.
Amalia grinned. 'I am sure that some do but no one will ever admit to it! That is the beauty of the masked balls!' She brought out her silver spangled fan and began to ply it vig
orously. 'It is so unbearably hot in here is it not? Amazing to think that outside it is so cold!' She smiled over my shoulder. 'Ah, here you are at last!'
I turned to see that a tall young man in a splendid blue velvet suit had silently joined us. The upper half of his face was obscured by a plain black velvet mask but I had no difficulty in recognising him to be Karl von Zweibrücken, who had also presumably acted as our coachman for the evening. He smiled down at me. 'And how are you enjoying your first masked ball, Your Highness?'
I returned his smile. 'Oh, very much.' My feet were tapping along to the music and I found myself watching the dancers and longing with all my heart to be able to join them.
Amalia tapped Karl on the arm with her glittering fan. 'We must find some partners for this girl,' she said with a laugh. 'Or she will not enjoy it for very long.'
Karl laughed. 'Leave it to me. I know just the fellow.' He gave a low bow then disappeared off into the crowd, leaving Amalia to sigh and stare after him.
'He is very handsome,' I said, rather lamely.
Amalia nodded. 'Yes, yes he is. Very handsome indeed.' She spread out her fan and examined it for a moment in silence before closing it and giving her usual bright, hard smile. 'I do hope he finds you someone equally as handsome to flirt with!'
'To flirt?' I shrank a little and my heart began to pound uncomfortably behind my stays. 'Oh, no, I don't think that I can do that!'
Amalia laughed at me. 'Now, why ever not? Do not suppose that I did not see you looking all forlorn and left out at your birthday ball with all of those very proper young gentlemen that Joseph and Mama had so obligingly picked out for you! No, I am persuaded that what you need is to flirt with young men and be just like every other girl, even if it is just this once.'
I smiled then. 'I must admit that it would be a lot of fun. I thought the young men at the ball so dreadfully dull.' I shrugged my shoulders and laughed a little. 'I was beginning to wonder what all the fuss is about.'
Amalia gave me a quick hug. 'Well, we can't have that, can we?'
Karl returned shortly afterwards with a very tall and extremely handsome young man with a mop of dark hair and dark blue eyes that twinkled admiringly from behind his silver mask. He led me out to dance and then proceeded to flirt with me in the most agreeable fashion imaginable, which I enjoyed excessively even if it made me blush and left me utterly tongue tied.
After this I danced some more with Karl and some other young men of his acquaintance, who were all far more amusing than the very correct young courtiers that my brother considered to be suitable partners for me. I began to think myself very grown up indeed as I swept around the ballroom, laughing and smiling at these dashing and anonymous gentlemen who were all determined to make themselves as pleasing to me as possible. For the first time I began to comprehend a little of what my own power over men might be, if I was wise enough to use it properly and the knowledge was highly intoxicating.
I could happily have stayed all night long and danced until dawn but it required me to only yawn once for Amalia to immediately turn to Karl and say that perhaps we should all go home. 'Poor Antonia is almost asleep on her feet!'
'I am not!' I protested. 'Oh, please, Amalia, may we not stay for a while longer? The jugglers and fire eaters and stilt walkers have just arrived and I am enjoying myself so much!'
Amalia laughed and shook her lovely head. 'No, I must insist that you come home before you give yourself up entirely to dissipation and become quite depraved, which would never do!' She kissed my glowing cheek. 'I am glad, though, that you have enjoyed yourself!'
I threw my arms about her. 'Oh, Amalia, I have enjoyed myself so much! Thank you! Thank you!'
She smiled and kissed my cheek. 'I am so glad, petite! It would be dreadful if you were to leave Vienna without having at least once experienced a masked ball here.' It was only then that I realised that this could well be Amalia's last carnival season in Austria for she is due to go to Parma in the Summer and will probably never return again and then after that it will be my turn.
Wednesday, 22nd February, late.
I have had another letter from Carolina. She doesn't sound unhappy but is clearly bored and dissatisfied with her life in Naples. Her letter ended with: 'I know that I should not speak to you of this but I have never been so disappointed in all my life as when the Countess' Secrets of the Bouoir were finally revealed to me. I sincerely hope that you will have a happier experience than me.'
I blushed crimson as I read this, suddenly fearful that my mail had been intercepted and read before it came into my hands and that now everyone knew that I was interested in such things. I read the letter through one more time to commit it to memory and then immediately opened up my stove, thrust it inside and then watched it curl up in the fire and then disintegrate into powdery ashes.
I wish though that she had written more on the subject. I would like to know just a little bit of what to expect before it happens. I wonder if anyone will ever tell me?
Sunday, 26th February, after dinner.
Amalia turned twenty three today. She does not look very happy about this. Her fiancé, the Duke of Parma sent her a beautiful diamond bracelet but she barely looked at it before tossing it aside.
Wednesday, 8th March.
Amalia came to my sitting room this afternoon with a small parcel, carefully wrapped in blue silk and tied with a pink velvet ribbon. She waved away my maids and smiled mysteriously as she handed it to me. 'A present,' she said.
'What can it be?' I pulled the silk away to reveal a wooden box with a metal clasp. 'More jewels?'
Amalia laughed and shook her head. 'No. Look inside.'
I opened the box to reveal a small gold medal lying on a bed of pale green velvet. For a moment I was confused as I gazed at it but then I picked up and looked closer and realised that on one side there was a portrait of myself in profile and on the other there was one of a young man that I did not recognise but who the inscription identified as the Dauphin Louis of France.
'Do you see?' Amalia whispered. 'It came from France.'
I looked up at her and nodded, feeling suddenly afraid. 'Yes, I do.'
It is all starting to happen now.
Monday, 20th March, evening.
Mama has started descending on my French history lessons with Abbé Vermond. She enters with a great deal of drama and fuss and then ostentatiously seats herself in a corner, telling us both in a whisper not to mind her and to pretend that she isn't there. The Abbé and I always look at each other in amusement, well aware that in only a few moments she will interrupt and then impatiently take over the conversation, steering it irresistibly towards her own thoughts and opinions, which are rarely flattering to the French, who she clearly believes to be both untrustworthy and frivolous and 'not like us'.
Sometimes I think that it would be better if she went to France instead of me. Perhaps King Louis would like to marry her? His own wife died last year so perhaps he is looking for a replacement?
Tuesday, 11th April, Schönnbrunn.
An artist called Monsieur Ducreux has arrived from Paris to take my likeness in pastels for the French court. I haven't met him yet but Joseph himself came to my sitting room to inform me of his arrival.
'It is imperative that you are in your best looks and are as charming as possible,' my brother ordered while tugging gently at Mops' silky ears while she, absurd animal, almost swooned with happiness. 'Everything depends upon it.' He scratched under Mops' chin. 'This portrait will be sent to Versailles, where it will be inspected by King Louis himself.'
'I will do my best,' I murmured meekly. After all, how hard can it be?
Friday, 14th April, after dinner.
Monsieur Ducreux hates me. I can tell. He seemed so pleased when I first skipped into the small, cold salon where our sittings are to take place and fussed over me politely as I settled myself in my pink upholstered chair and arranged my blue and yellow silk skirts in the most becoming manner.
The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette Page 14