The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette

by Clegg, Melanie

  Forget what I said about Karl last night. I was tired and didn't know what I was talking about.

  27th April, later.

  I have spent the afternoon sitting with the Duchess Maria Anna in her green and gold sitting room being plied with sugared cakes, hot chocolate served in beautiful rose patterned Sèvres cups and delicious, wonderful gossip. Do not be fooled by the tiny little Electress of Bavaria's pretty pink and white face, earnest blue eyes and little girl voice as she sits on her delicate chair and gently pulls the ears of the tiny little white spaniel that lazes comfortably on her pale yellow silk lap. This woman, thanks to personal relationships to every crowned head in Europe and a formidable amount of correspondents in every court has her finger very firmly placed on the pulse, the beating heart of the Western world. She is also, despite her doll like appearance, incredibly shrewd and intensely intelligent. I would not like to have her for an enemy and so I consider myself fortunate indeed that she has decided to be my friend.

  'I am almost forty two years old!' she trilled with a delighted laugh as I admired her lovely flounced silk dress. 'Some might say, and I am absolutely sure that they do, that I am far too old to be concerned with such frippery but I don't care!'

  'You look wonderful,' I replied with a smile, taken aback by her candour and rather surprised as she absolutely does not look her age. 'Truly.'

  'Thank you my dear.' She waved away the hovering footmen and poured me a cup of hot chocolate with her own hands. 'I must say that I hope my nephew appreciates how fortunate he is to have such a lovely bride. I am sure that his mother, my poor sister would have been very pleased with you.' She lifted the ornate silver sugar tongs and cast me a quizzical look. 'Sugar?'

  'Yes, please.' I smiled and blushed. 'I hope that everyone will be pleased with me. I wish that my... the Dauphin's mother was still alive so that I could meet her.' The Dauphine Marie-Josèphe had died three years previously from tuberculosis.

  'She was not entirely happy with the match you know,' the Electress was clearly trying to pick her words carefully. 'My dear sister was very keen that her son should marry our niece, Maria Amalia of Saxony and was quite determined to bring about a match between the two.' She heaped thick whipped cream on top of my hot chocolate and passed it to me. 'Amalia is the eldest daughter of our brother, the Elector of Saxony and is very pretty. My poor Maria Josepha had always taken an interest in the girl and had decided that having her at Versailles would be a comfort to her once her own two daughters, Clotilde and Élisabeth had married and gone to live elsewhere.'

  'Oh.' I could not help but feel downcast. 'I see.' At no point had anyone ever mentioned that there had been another Princess in the running and the news made me feel rather insignificant in the general scheme of things. Yes, I had won the prize but it had almost been snatched away from me by some unknown girl, who had furthermore been the favourite of my prospective mother in law. 'What does she look like?' I knew that the question made me look foolish and jealous but couldn't help myself.

  The Electress smiled to herself as though she had been expecting my question and did not at all think any less of me for it. 'Maria Amalia is very pretty but, I think, not as pretty or charming as you.' She leaned forward and squeezed my hands. 'You have nothing to worry about, dearest!' She beckoned forward a footman who held a long mahogany box in his hands. 'Here, I will show you.'

  The box was opened to reveal a collection of several dozen miniatures arranged in neat rows against pale blue velvet. The Electress frowned as she scanned the painted faces. 'Aha!' She selected a miniature and handed it to me. 'Maria Amalia.'

  I looked down at the miniature, half expecting to see some sort of heavy lidded, voluptuous temptress depicted within but instead I beheld an attractive girl with regular features, slightly protruding blue eyes and corn coloured hair drawn back in a pearl studded chignon. In short she looked like any other German princess and the only sign of any character that I could discern was a certain mutinous tilt to her chin, which probably boded no good to any future husband. She was nothing special, in fact she was absolutely ordinary. I hated her.

  'See?' The Electress took back the miniature and replaced it in the box. 'Nothing to be frightened of.' She selected another picture. 'Now, who do you suppose this is?' She handed me a picture of a pale youth with dark eyes and an untidy mop of dark hair, pulled back with a blue ribbon.

  'I do not know.' I scrutinised his face for a clue but found none.

  She laughed, delighted with her game. 'Why, it is my other nephew, Ferdinand of Naples!'

  'Carolina's husband?' I stared at him in amazement. He was not at all as I had imagined him to be. 'I did not realise that he was your nephew as well.' Was there no one that this woman was not related to?

  The Electress smiled. 'Ah yes, he is the son of my other sister, Amalia who married the King of Spain. She is dead now too of course, which is very sad.' She handed me a miniature of a lovely pink cheeked girl in a red hat. 'She was so pretty, poor thing. I do not think that the climate in Spain agreed with her at all.'

  'What a pity,' I agreed.

  And so it went on. Miniature after miniature came out of the box, portraits of princesses, dukes and kings, their eyes gazing up into mine as I cradled them on my palm and listened to the Electress hold forth.

  On Louis XV: 'The most charming man imaginable. Terribly shy of course, thanks to his upbringing and early loss of his entire family to an outbreak of measles. Yes, they all died within a week of each other and only Louis survived thanks to his governess having the presence of mind to hide him away from the royal doctors.'

  On Madame de Pompadour: 'The most cultured woman imaginable. Her death was a true tragedy. I wish that she was still alive to welcome you to Versailles as I am sure that she would have been delighted with you. The match with Austria was her doing you know so you have much to than her for!'

  On the Dauphine Maria Josepha: 'My beautiful sister. She was the sweetiest, funniest girl imaginable. The King adored her, you know and called her his 'Pepa'. I hear that he was quite berefit when she died. More so than when La Pompadour passed away. She was truly devout and yet at the same time was so full of laughter and fun. I am sure that she is still missed at Versailles.'

  On the Dauphin: 'A loving and intelligent boy, who is much sharper than anyone gives him credit for. They all think that he is dull, boring and stupid but if they only made the effort to truly know him they would soon realise that there is much more to him. I am sure that you will get along famously. I am sure that a pretty girl like you will find it easy to draw him out of his shell.'

  On Karl: 'An impetuous and dangerous young man.'

  Hm.

  Saturday, 28th April, Augsburg.

  We said a sad farewell to Nymphenburg and its gracious inhabitants this morning and continued on our way, refreshed and rejuvenated by our two days of rest. My ladies and I were in high spirits as our carriage rolled slowly through woods, villages and fields, followed by a huge cloud of dust as the fifty seven coaches of my courtège rumbled behind us, churning up the road as they went.

  Tonight we rest in Augsburg, an ancient city in South West Bavaria. I can't stop yawning and am longing for bed but instead I must allow the maids to bath me before I dress up in my finery, pin on my brightest smile and go out for a banquet followed by the opera.

  Waiting for me here was a letter from Amalia, hidden inside a wooden box containing the most lovely pale pink cashmere shawl.

  'My darling little sister,

  How are you? I hear that you made the most beautiful bride imaginable and that King Louis is already rubbing his hands with glee at the prospect of having you live with him at Versailles. My poor husband is his favourite grandson you know and they write to each other often, usually about the most mundane subjects imaginable but occasionally about you, my dearest one. I do not know what it is about my husband that makes his grandfather so fond of him but suspect that it is due to his Mama being King Louis' favourite daughte
r. She was dead long before I came here but I hear that she was very fat, exceedingly arrogant and extremely and resolutely French. Make of that what you will.

  Anyway! I have news! I am sure that this will come as something of a shock but I am expecting a baby. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you, I said 'baby'. I am told that the small person is due to make their appearance sometime in November, which is not so long is it? I have waited this long before telling anyone because I wanted to be sure and also because I just could not bear the idea of all the fuss that Mama will make about the prospect. It could not be kept secret for much longer though as I am already beginning to grow large and ungainly.

  Ferdinand is beside himself with joy, of course and brags of the coming infant in the most embarrassing way. He is so happy though that I cannot bring myself to stop him and so I endure as best I can.

  I have written to Karl to let him know. I do not know how he will take the news. Let me know if you hear anything from him? Joseph wrote to tell me that you were staying with Elector Max at Nymphenberg. How envious I am! If only things had been different...

  I must go now. Much love to you, my darling! I think of you always.

  Your Amélie.'

  Friday 4th May, Freiberg, afternoon.

  We have just arrived at the city of Freiberg after what has been the most extraordinary and exhausting week of my entire life as my cortège crossed Germany, enjoying the hospitality of several towns along the way. Never before have I beheld such adulation and although I know that it was mostly inspired by the love that my mother inspires I hope that at least some of the shouts, cheers and applause were just for me. It feels wrong and sad that I may never see any of these places again and am only seeing them now as I prepare to say goodbye.

  The best part of the week was the two days that we spent in Günzburg with Papa's sister Princess Charlotte of Lorraine. She was very kind to me and made many lovely comments about how similar I am to my dear Papa and how he would often talk about me in his letters.

  'You would think that having so many children would have made him quite blasé by the time you arrived but it was quite the reverse,' she remarked with a gentle smile over dinner. 'He was as proud of you as he was of any of your siblings and often remarked that out of all his children you were the one that he treasured the most as you were the most like him in every way.'

  As you can imagine, it made my heart burst with pride to hear this. Oh, Papa, how I wish that you were here now. I am so sure that things would have been totally different if only Papa had not died when he did. I am sure that Mama would never have made poor Josepha go down into the crypt and so she would not have caught smallpox and so Carolina would not have gone to Naples and might have gone to Parma instead and on and on it goes. Amalia might even have been allowed to marry her Karl and I... I do not know what the future would have held for me but perhaps I would not be here now, almost at the end of my journey to France but instead still safely at home in Vienna, basking in the love of a father that was cruelly taken from me before his time.

  A letter from Mama was waiting for me when we got here, full of the usual exhortations to remember my duty, never forget for an instant who and what I am, be gracious to all who approach me and to 'above all smile'. The letter also contained the interesting news that my brother Leopold and his ugly Spanish wife have had yet another baby, this time a perfect little girl who is to be called Maria Anna. How wonderful. I hugged myself as I read this, dreaming of a time when it will be me whose babies are joyfully announced to all the family.

  'I expect that you already know about your sister Amalia's pregnancy? I am very pleased indeed as I know that she has had much to try her in her time at Parma. Pray God that she will have a safe delivery. I hope to hear happy news from France before long also. We all do.'

  Sunday, 6th May, Schüttern Abbey in the Black Forest, late.

  I am so exhausted. The journey has been incredibly long and at times it seemed as though we would be on the road forever but now, amazingly the end is in sight and here we are at the enormous old abbey in Schüttern on what is to be my last ever night on Hapsburg soil. I can hardly believe that it has finally come to this, that my new life is finally about to begin.

  I am both terrified and excited.

  Tonight we attended a very formal dinner in the huge stone vaulted dining hall and I hid my yawns behind my hand as the local dignitaries gave several speeches, all lauding my beauty, wisdom, grace and other manifold charms. I caught the Abbé's eye during one particularly fulsome speech and we shared a smile across the room. I am so glad that he is coming with me to Versailles; I will need a friendly face there.

  Afterwards my ladies wrapped my cashmere shawl around my shoulders and we took a turn around the gardens with Mops prancing at our feet, admiring the beautiful roses and splashing each other playfully with water from the several fountains. Anna and Clementina did their best to distract me and to keep the mood as lighthearted as possible but there was a weird and heavy atmosphere in the air as we walked around the formal parterres and it was hard to ignore the fact that this is to be our last night together for tomorrow they will be returning to Vienna while I go on to France.

  'I will miss you all so much,' I whispered to Clara as we walked together, arm in arm. 'I wish with all my heart that you could come with me.' I admired our reflection in a basin of water, thinking how lovely we looked in our pretty dresses with our blue eyes shining like stars in the light cast by the dozens of flambeaux that lit up the gardens and a delicate flush that owed nothing at all to rouge on our soft cheeks. I wish that I could be young forever and ever.

  'Oh, I wish that we could come with you too,' Clara replied, giving my arm a friendly squeeze. 'Perhaps one day we will be permitted to visit you? How I long to see Versailles and Paris! Oh, Paris! Imagine!' She lifted her green silk skirts and swished them from side to side, clearly imagining herself in the finest Parisian fashions. 'How lucky you are, Antonia!' My old name slipped out and for once I did not correct her.

  I pretended to pout. 'Do you want to visit me or the dressmakers?' I didn't really mind; I am excited by the prospect of the legendary Parisian shops as well. Just think of all those shops and all those designers that will surely be vying with each other for the chance to dress me.

  Clara laughed and kissed my cheek. 'You of course!' She sighed then. 'Although I can't wait to see the shops as well.'

  I took her hand and held it to my cheek for a moment. 'Promise me that you will come and visit?' I was dreading the moment when we would have to say our farewells and they would leave my side forever. I am sure that I will make new friends at Versailles but they won't be real friends will they? They won't know what I am really like. They will only be interested in staying close to the crown, in trying to ingratiate themselves with Madame la Dauphine. Never again will I be entirely sure that people like me just for myself.

  'Of course I will!' She smiled, unaware of the dark path that my thoughts had taken. 'You just try keeping me away!'

  'I could even try to write!' I said with a laugh.

  'Now, now, let's not push our luck shall we?'

  Monday, 7th May, early morning.

  The abbey is silent but for the sound of Clementina softly snoring in the adjoining bedchamber. I am too excited to sleep and am sitting up in bed with my diary on my knees and little Mops resting his head against my leg. I hope that the Versailles dogs will be kind to him. Poor little Mops, it is an upheaval for him as well. I wonder what he thinks of it all?

  You will never guess what happened earlier! My ladies had just left the room after preparing me for bed and I was still sitting in front of the dressing table mirror idly running my fingers through my loose hair and admiring the way the silver threads that ran through my pink gauze wrap shimmered in the candlelight when I suddenly heard a rattling sound that I quickly realized was down to small stones or soil being thrown against my window, which look out over the Abbey gardens.

  I hesitated for on
ly a few seconds before leaping up, pulling the heavy purple velvet curtains apart and peering out into the darkness determined to see who was responsible for such an appalling affront.

  'Down here!' I heard a male voice hiss. 'Do not be alarmed, Antonia.' I could have recognised that voice anywhere and instantly my heart leaped within my bosom.