The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette

by Clegg, Melanie

  There was a knock on the door and Mama entered, flanked with liveried footmen and looking supremely magnificent in her black silk gown, the diamonds and jet on her stomacher glimmering in the light from the candles that stood on my dressing table. Even today she was wearing mourning, her only concession to the happy occasion being a little rouge on her lips, a pair of red silk shoes concealed beneath her voluminous skirts and a scattering of diamond pins in her pale hair. 'Come, Antonia,' she said holding out her hand and smiling as she deliberately used my Austrian name for the final time. 'Come. It is time.'

  We went on foot from the Hofburg to the austere, white fronted Augustinerkirche, the church of Saint Augustine where Imperial weddings have been held for centuries. My sisters and brothers were married there as were our parents and grandparents before them. I myself had been baptized there but of course have no recognition at all of this important occasion.

  A huge crowd of courtiers and ordinary Viennese people lined the purple carpeted route between the palace and the church, which had been covered with a long canopy of white silk embroidered with the Imperial insignia. I felt faint and rather sick as my mother took my hand and led me out into the waning sunlight and cool breezes of Spring while behind me the Countess Trautmannsdorf heroically carried my heavy silver and lace train. I bit my lip and concentrated on placing one foot before the other, hardly noticing the stares and applause of the crowd that watched us pass or the whispers and giggles of my sisters behind us.

  'What a lovely day,' Mama whispered, trying to put me at my ease. 'The perfect day for a wedding.'

  'Yes.' I nodded and, reminded of my duty, tried to smile and nod at the gathered people, very much aware that reports of my behaviour and appearance would be winging their way across Europe as soon as I had set foot within the church and there was nothing more to see outside.

  'Courage, courage, my darling girl,' Mama murmured, squeezing my fingers. 'Not long now.'

  I smiled and nodded to either side of me, relieved to note that we were almost at the church door and that this particular ordeal was nearly at an end. And it was at this point that I saw him standing at the back of the crowd but tall enough to tower over them.

  Karl. His gaze were fixed upon me and I blushed as our eyes met for a moment before I looked quickly away. He looked so handsome that for a brief impure moment I wished that it was he who would be kneeling beside me as I took my vows.

  'And here we are.' We were in front of the doors, which swung upon to invite us into the gloomy, pungent, incense scented depths of the church, its velvety darkness broken only by the bright facets of light that fell like shattered rainbows from the tall windows on to the stone floor and rows of wooden pews below. I took a deep breath and stepped inside as a swell of organ music started up before the choir began to sing.

  'Remember, one foot in front of the other,' my mother admonished with a smile as we began our slow walk up the aisle towards the altar, where my brother Ferdinand waited for us dressed in the full robes and furbelows of the Imperial orders. He looked magnificent and also extremely young as I suppose that we both did.

  Again, I ignored the stares and concentrated on the huge gold embellished cross that stood on the gold and crimson embroidered altar cloth. The organ master was clearly enjoying himself and the music soared and peaked around us as we walked, miraculously creating an atmosphere of sanctity and also joy. I wished suddenly that I had asked for Wolferl Mozart to play at my wedding but he was doubtless far away as usual, maybe even in France. One day I will get him to play for me. Perhaps I will even commission a piece for myself.

  We reached the altar and my mother gracefully gave my hand to my brother before kissing me on both cheeks and then turning away to step up on to the dais where Joseph was already sitting and take her place on an ornate throne at his side. I met Joseph's eye for an instant and he winked and smiled encouragingly, knowing more than most just how hard this was going to be. I could see Durfort, magnificently dressed as ever in ice blue satin and gold lace, standing just behind Ferdinand, his dark eyes were fixed in a show of reverence upon the altar cross but I knew that he was as intensely aware of me as I was of him and that as soon as my back was turned he would be staring like everyone else and making mental notes of all the catty things he could report back to whoever his friends were in France.

  'Ready?' Ferdinand whispered, holding my hand almost gingerly and at arm's length. He looked extremely young and shy.

  I smiled and nodded, trying not to think about how truly bizarre this actually was. 'Ready.'

  And with that we knelt together before God and I was married by the Papal Nuncio, Monseigneur Visconti to Monsieur le Dauphin de France, a boy that I had never even seen. I knelt as Maria Antonia Josepha Johanna, Erzherzogin von Österreich, Prinzessin von Ungarn and arose to the blowing of trumpets and sounds of triumphant salvoes being fired outside with his consecrated gold ring upon my finger as Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne, Dauphine de France, Duchesse de Berri.

  I wonder when it will begin to seem real?

  Friday, 20th April, morning.

  I awoke on this, my first morning as a married woman, to the sound of my mother snoring in her crimson brocade hung state bed. With a sigh I lay back against the lace edged pillows and stared up at the ceiling, thinking how strange it is that at once everything and nothing can change. Again my thoughts wandered to the Dauphin and I wondered if he was lying in bed too, thinking of me?

  I rolled over on to my side and pulled his miniature out from underneath my pillow, where I had hidden it. 'My husband,' I whispered, tracing his face with my finger. 'Louis. My husband, Louis. Mon mari, Louis.' His face is so familiar to me now and yet he is a stranger still. I wonder if he ever looks at the portrait of me that lives at Versailles? Does he feel like he knows me or does he feel as confused as I do? I tried to imagine him saying my name and smiled to myself as I decided that I would be his 'Antoinette' when he loved me and 'Marie Antoinette' when he was cross. I looked at his face again, this time doubtfully, as I really can't imagine him ever being cross with anyone. Perhaps I am wrong though.

  This morning has gone past quickly. Mama was up and dressed shortly after me and retreated into her private sitting room to write letters to my new grandfather in law, King Louis and other heads of state. It is my turn to write letters after lunch. 'Do not worry, Antoinette! I will tell you exactly what to write!' Mama patted my cheek. 'King Louis will be quite enchanted with you.'

  'And the Dauphin?' I asked her shyly.

  Mama sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Oh, I do not think that we need trouble ourselves about that at present.'

  20th April, later.

  I am supposed to be writing my letter to King Louis but oh my, how tedious it is! Well, I say 'writing' when actually all I have to do is sit here with Abbé Vermond and copy the letter that Mama has already written for me and then sign it. I have had strict instructions not to make any changes to the letter and to start again should I make the slightest mistake. My overwhelming feeling is relief that I have been told what to write but a small part of me wishes that I had been trusted to find my own words. Surely King Louis will recognize my mother's hand in this plaintive, simpering missive?

  'All the same, I feel my age and inexperience may often need his indulgence...' I rolled my eyes as I wrote this, thinking how childish I sounded or rather how childish Mama wants me to sound.

  'He will never respect me,' I muttered darkly to my Abbé as he smiled at me in his usual mild mannered way. 'I want him to find me...' I searched for the right word, 'impressive.'

  'Impressive?' The Abbé laughed as I reddened a little with embarrassment. 'Oh, I can assure you that

  the King will find you extremely impressive.' His words were just what I wanted to hear but there was something else in his tone of voice, something that I could not put my finger on and that troubled me a little.

  Saturday, 21st April, early hours of my last morning in Vienna.

  I have
just returned from a state banquet at the Hofburg. All of the usual people were there, including Durfort who stood to attention behind Joseph's chair all night, glowering at us furiously from beneath his eyebrows and looking sour whenever any unwary person attempted to engage him in conversation. I wish that Amalia had been there as she was always the best of all of us at handling Durfort and his many and various whimsies.

  I should be in bed but am loath to go as tonight is my last night here in Vienna and the act of getting into bed makes it all seem so final, so definite. I am struggling to stay awake and yet I know that I must, just for a few minutes more as I savour every moment of these last few hours at home.

  'May I say, Your Highness, that we are all so sorry to see you go,' a young footman whispered to me as he carried a torch before me through the dark and gloomy corridors that lead from the reception rooms to my mother's bedchamber. 'I hope you will forgive my saying so.'

  I smiled at him. 'I do not mind at all,' I whispered back, blinking away my tears. 'I will miss you all so much.'

  The candle is burning low and the clock on the mantle piece is about to chime away another hour or herald the next, depending on how you look at it. My sisters have always said that I am a glass half full sort of person but today, today I really feel like my glass is empty.

  I am not ready to go. I am only fourteen years old and have never been away from home, from Austria. What is to become of me?

  21st April, almost nine o'clock in the morning.

  I leave at nine.

  I have had my final breakfast with my family (Mama dignified, Christina and Elizabeth sullen and mocking by turns, Ferdinand and Max pulling silly faces and spilling coffee all over the tablecloth), said farewell to and given presents to all of my maids, pageboys and footmen and am now sitting here in Mama's bedroom in my new travelling dress of pale pink velvet with Mops at my feet, waiting for Ferdinand to come and escort me downstairs, where the fabulous carriage provided for me by King Louis awaits. Clementina, Anton, Clara and Anna are to travel with me and they are all wild with excitement about the beauties of our vehicle, with its blue velvet upholstery, shiny mirrored doors painted with symbols of the four elements and the profusion of gold flowers that twisted around its sides reaching up to a fragile crown of thornless roses on the roof.

  Everything is packed and has been sent on ahead, piled high in carriages and on carts. My sumptuous trousseau was packed with especial care, with silk sachets of lavender and rose petals strewn in between the hundreds of gowns, silk stockings and fine linen chemises. There is literally nothing left of me here other than myself, my darling Mops and you, the repository of my most secret thoughts, who will be entrusted to the pale blue silk reticule that I will carry with me in my carriage. There you will reside with a lace edged handkerchief and a small porcelain box of violet comfits.

  Everything has gone and all my loose ends have been tied up. There is nothing left for me to do but wait.

  21st April.

  We have just gone past Schönbrunn. Oh, darling, darling Schönbrunn. Will I ever see you again?

  My goodness, the road is lined with crowds, all staring at me and cheering and shouting my name. I smile and wave, smile and wave as I pass, hoping that no one can see the tears that are still drying on my cheeks, the falseness of my smile.

  Mama cried when the time came to say goodbye. I clung to her and wept as she gently prised my fingers apart and then walked me to my waiting carriage. I do not think that I will ever see her again. Not in this life time. I do not think that I have ever before cried so much. As my carriage pulled away from the Hofburg, I sobbed without restraint as I stared helplessly at my mother and family for what could be the very last time.

  More later. I must compose myself. We have two long weeks on the road ahead of us and I will need all of my strength.

  This is worse than I could ever have imagined.

  Sunday, 22nd April, early morning, Melk Abbey.

  I am so tired. I could sleep for days and it still wouldn't be enough and now I have to pin on a smile, go to Mass and prepare myself for another long day.

  We travelled for hours yesterday through leafy countryside and busy towns and villages, their roads lined with grinning, cheering people who threw flowers at my carriage and held their babies up to see me until finally at sunset and just as I was beginning to feel utterly sick of being crammed into a carriage despite the best efforts of Anton and Clara who tried in vain to entertain me with silly guessing games, we arrived at Melk, a beautiful old city built alongside the Danube and overlooked by an enormous yet elegant white and yellow stone abbey built atop a hill. The beautiful old stones glowed in the mellow light of the setting sun and we all stared out of the carriage windows in wonderment as my enormous cortege (fifty seven carriages just for me!) passed underneath the windows, wound around the side and then drove up to the entrance where my brother Joseph was waiting for me flanked by footmen, guards and the solemn, black garbed Benedictine monks who lived at the abbey. Above his head on the portico was chiseled the words: 'Absit Gloriari nisi in Cruce'.

  I looked puzzled until my dear Clementina leaned forward and whispered: 'God forbid that I should boast save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ'.

  'How did you...?' I stared at her in shock. Did that really just happen?

  'What?' She gave a little shrug. 'My father taught me when I was a little girl. It is not so difficult.'

  All of this was forgotten a few seconds later. 'Joseph!' I squealed as he stepped forward and pulled my door open himself. 'Oh, I am so glad to see you!' I jumped into his arms and, suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that had happened burst into tears.

  'Oh, Antonia, Antonia.' He kissed my wet cheeks, pinched my chin and led me through an arched doorway into the building. 'Come inside and rest and then tell me all about it.'

  Joseph himself took me to my rooms, escorting me down long vaulted, light filled corridors where the silent monks paced quietly and stood aside to let us pass, their eyes downcast, their hands folded in perpetual prayer. 'I hope that you will be comfortable, little one,' my brother said as he held open the door to let myself and my ladies enter a lovely white and gold bedroom hung with beautiful tapestries. 'I will see you again at dinner.'

  I sank thankfully down on to the bed and sat in an exhausted daze as my ladies in waiting fussed around me, pulling off my shoes, wiping my face and hands with rose water, taking off my pink feathered hat and carefully placing it on the dark wood dressing table. 'I thought that we would be in that carriage forever,' I sighed at last, wiggling my toes in their silk stockings and smiling up at Clara as she rubbed at my forehead with gentle fingers, erasing a headache that had threatened for hours to erupt.

  'Only two more weeks to go!' Clementina said with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. 'Two loooong weeks.'

  'Oh don't!' I laughed. 'Don't remind me!' The schedule planned for me by Mama and King Louis was punishing with the journey taking over two weeks with each separate leg taking eight hours, which is a lot of time to spend crammed in a carriage, even with such delightful companions.

  'The things that we do for you!' Clara said with a mock sigh. 'And just think! You get to go on to France and glory and we just have to turn around and come straight back again!' Her tone was light but her words still cast a damper on the boyuant mood. My appeal to Durfort had fallen on deaf ears and I would be going to France utterly alone with my Abbé as the only friendly and familiar face. I couldn't bear to think of it and so I did my best to push it all from my mind.

  We had just enough time for me to change into a blue silk dress trimmed with black lace and pearls before it was time for supper and my brother himself knocked on my door to take me down. 'I hope that you are not too tired,' he whispered as we walked, my hand on his arm down to the wonderful marble hall where there was to be a banquet (oh la la, another banquet!) in my honour before an opera performance.

  'I will do my best to stay awake,' I assured him with
my sunniest smile as we stepped into the hall and even I, raised at the Hofburg and Schönbrunn gasped as I looked up at the amazing painted ceiling, which was such a stark contrast to the black robed monks who sat with the splendidly dressed local dignitaries.

  After dinner, Joseph and I went for a walk on one of the stone terraces that looked out across the Danube towards the distant hills. The view was ravishing and I leaned on the cold parapet and filled my lungs with the fresh air, relishing the soft and comforting sound of the river as it flowed past. 'I have never been very far away from the Danube,' I murmured with a little sigh. 'It is my very own river.' I imagined myself as a baby lying in the gold and damask Imperial crib, lulled to sleep by the rush and hiss of the Danube as it flowed through Vienna.