After this, the priest came and Mama and I took Communion together, which was a great honour and I could hardly hold back my tears as the priest made the sign of the cross above my bowed head.
Sunday, 3rd September, Schönnbrunn.
There was much excitement today when several dozen poupées, French wooden dolls beautifully dressed in the very latest (or in this case, next season's) fashions arrived for me. Everyone crowded around and gasped in admiration as I lifted each one from its wooden box and held it up to the light, admiring the delicate laces, the glimmering brocades and silks and the fluttering brightly coloured ribbons.
'You must look at each one and decide which dresses you would like to have made,' Mama instructed me with a smile. 'They are all in the very latest Parisian fashions.' There was a collective sigh from all of the court ladies as each one gazed rapturously at the beautiful miniature dresses and allowed herself to daydream about shopping in Paris, the very centre of fashion and frivolity. Some even looked at me with a new respect. 'There are also some books of fabric swatches,' Mama continued before handing me one of the huge books, which were bound with apple green taffeta.
I took the book reverently and turned the stiff pages, staring in wonder at the bright colours and vivid patterns of the rich brocades, silks, taffetas and satins. Another book was filled with lighter pale and white silks, some plain, some striped and some patterned with beautiful vivid flowers and butterflies and birds and leaves. Yet another book was filled with velvets and another contained lace arranged in perfectly straight, frothy white rows.
The dolls were arranged around one of the drawing rooms and the entire court streamed past to prod and admire them, while I gazed at each one in turn and thought that I loved them all and could never choose between them. It occurred to me for an instant that I was being treated rather like a doll myself but then I forced myself to dismiss the thought from my mind.
Friday, 22nd September, afternoon.
Another letter from Amèlie, this time addressed directly to me and hidden at the bottom of a wicker basket full of violet soaps, which was delivered directly to my rooms. I sent all of my maids away as soon as my fingers touched the parchment envelope at the bottom of the basket and then knelt in front of my bed and ripped it open with trembling fingers.
'My dearest little one,
I hope that you will excuse the subterfuge but I think that you will agree that it is absolutely necessary if we are to correspond as candidly as we would like.
How quiet it must be in Vienna without me! Am I missed? Do the young gentlemen of the court sigh and weep for me? How are you enduring life with just Marianna, Elizabeth and Mimi for company? Have they nagged you to death yet? Do not despair, you will escape soon enough and be free of the awful toils of our family forever, although I must warn you that Mama's letters have arrived as a constant stream of advice and reproach since I departed so don't expect too much.
Parma. It is very hot and very sunny and very pretty. The people are good looking and cheerful, the food is delicious and plentiful and the wine is far superior to anything we have in Austria. In short, I could be happy here if I was at liberty to enjoy it alone, instead of with my husband at my side. We always knew that he would hardly be the handsome and accomplished prince of fairytale didn't we? Ah well.
I wish that I had not come here knowing what it is like to be loved, truly loved. I think that it would have been easier to have given myself as an unattached virgin, with no knowledge and a head full of romantic nonsense and nothings. Promise me again, Antonia, that you will be more circumspect than your unfortunate sister for I think that I could easier bear the inept and rough embrace of my husband if I had not always the memory of Karl's kisses. And more. But then is it not better to have loved once rather than not at all?
Life is very strange.
I must go now as I fear that I have already said too much. I miss you terribly, my dearest one and hope that you will spare a thought for me every now and then. Be kind to my Karl if he is still in Vienna. I have asked him to come to me in Parma but he is being proud and refuses to come. I hope that he will change his mind soon.
Embraces from your ever loving,
Marie-Amélie de Parme.'
Tuesday, 24th October, late, I do not feel like sleeping.
Tonight at dinner, which Mama missed as she had some important dispatches to work through, Joseph idly cast a piece of paper across the table to me. 'Here are the arrangements that are being made for your journey to France,' he said with a smile. 'I thought that it might amuse you to read through them and see for yourself how much fuss is being made in your honour, little sister.'
I put down my knife and fork, picked up the paper, which I have now in front of me, then blushed as I read it through. 'One hundred and thirty two dignitaries? Cooks? Bakers?' I stared open mouthed at Joseph. 'Fifty seven coaches and a total of twenty thousand horses?' I pushed the list away in confusion and disgust. 'It is too much.'
Joseph sighed. 'Certainly not! You forget your great position, Antonia.' He shrugged and took a sip of his wine. 'You are not a... a butcher's daughter being sent to her sweetheart in the next village. For heaven's sake, remember who you are and who we are!'
'Let me see.' Elizabeth reached out and snatched the list from where it lay on the tablecloth between Joseph and me. 'My, what a long list!' She scanned the page then cast it aside. 'Who knew that so much fuss could be made about one spoilt little girl?'
I was too shocked to speak but Joseph looked annoyed and sprang instantly to my defence. 'Really, Elizabeth, you know that that is not fair.' He looked nervously at the footmen who stood behind each of our chair and discreetly signaled that they should all leave. I watched miserably as they all filed out. 'Pray contain yourself.'
She glared at him. 'Oh really? How can you say that, Joseph, when you know that it should have been me going to France not Antonia.' She shrugged her thin shoulders. 'The girl was never intended for such a great match and well you know it. Why, she is barely educated! What sort of Queen do you think she will make?' Her chest had gone red as it always did when she was angry about something and she scratched at it absentmindedly with one of her white gloved hands.
'I agree,' Christina said with an arch look in my direction that both cut me down to size and dismissed me at the same time. 'Elizabeth was by far the most suitable choice for the Dauphin. I have often been surprised that you and Mama think it appropriate to send such a silly little dunce to Versailles.'
'I care not for your opinions on the matter, Mimi, nor your's, Elizabeth,' Joseph retorted sharply, bringing his hand down hard on the table and spilling some of his wine across the white damask tablecloth. 'Neither of you have any right to comment. The decision has been made – Antonia is to go to France and that is an end to it.'
My hands were shaking as I threw my napkin on top of my plate then stood up, pushing my chair back behind me. 'If you will excuse me, brother, I do not feel very well,' I murmured to Joseph, biting my lip hard as I tried not to cry in front of them all. 'I am sorry.'
I walked from the room with as much dignity as I could muster but then as soon as the door was closed behind me, I gave in to the trembling and leaned for a moment against the white and gold panelling. The footmen had all scattered as I left the room and were now trying to look busy in order to pretend that they had not all been eavesdropping outside the door. They watched me covertly with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity and after a moment this not unfriendly scrutiny gave me the strength to put my shoulders back, dry my eyes and ask one of them to light my way with his candelabra back to my own apartment.
Tuesday, 31st October, afternoon.
Another parcel from Amélie, this time containing a large bottle of Neroli oil and some bars of lily soap. Underneath was tucked a short note and an engraving, both tied up with pink velvet ribbon.
'My darling girl,
I thought that it might interest you to behold your fate. I truly hope that it does
not leave you aghast and in utter despair. Personally I think he looks charming, even if he could possibly stand to lose some weight but he is young and I am sure that once he has a charming little wife to make himself handsome for, he will improve immeasurably. This was the best depiction that I could find, short of stealing the miniature that my husband has of him, which I may yet do if no one thinks to send you a portrait of your own soon. I am told, however, by those who are in a position to know such things that he is very tall, very strong and has blond hair and blue eyes. You shall have delightful babies, if you can bring yourself to contemplate such a thing. I am not sure that I can, so you have all of my sympathy if the idea makes you wail, tear out your hair and gnash your teeth in horror. I think that it is the thought of the dreadful fuss that Mama will inevitably make that I find most offputting of all. Do you know that already she writes to ask if I am in a delicate condition.
Has Karl returned to Vienna yet? I have written to him but alas there has been no reply. I fear that he is picqued. Perhaps he has transferred his attentions elsewhere? Write and let me know everything as soon as you can. Or perhaps not. I can't decide. Is it better to know or not?
Don't let our darling sisters bully you. Nor Mama either. I hear that she took you to Mariazell? What fun that must have been for you. Give each of our odious brothers a kiss from me and especially so if they look likely to resist and run away from your embrace. I miss them so much. Who would have thought it possible?
Your devoted and doting sister,
Amélie de Parme.'
I picked up the engraving with trembling fingers and saw that it depicted a very young, rather fleshy young man with a high intelligent forehead, round cheeks, pouting lips and large clear eyes. He was not handsome but nor was he displeasing either; I could imagine myself being friends with him even if I could never bring myself to love him. 'Louis Auguste, Dauphin de France' the inscription proudly declared in elaborate, swirly writing. I thought of poor Josephina, whose cousin the glamorous Dauphine had been his mother and I thought, just for a second, that I could see something of her in his eyes.
Louis Auguste. My fate.
Thursday, 2nd November, Hofburg.
I am fourteen. It feels very old but Joseph laughed at me when I said so and remarked that I should wait until I am as old as he is and then see how I feel. I had to be honest and admit that I can't possibly imagine being as old as him and he looked rather put out.
The day started as usual with a private breakfast with Mama, during which I drank hot chocolate and fielded innumerable questions about French history. She has developed a strange, frowning worried look whenever she happens to cast her gaze upon me, that I do not quite understand. I hope that they have not changed their minds about the marriage.
After breakfast we went together to one of the salons where my brothers and sisters were waiting to give me my presents, then Durfort came in with a great amount of fuss and preceded by a strong aroma of Lavender and Violet cologne to give me my gift from his master, the King of France: a gorgeous and enormous diamond ring, which Joseph slipped on to the third finger of my left hand while I blushed becomingly and everyone applauded.
'From this day forward my dearest daughter will no longer be known as Maria Antonia but as Marie Antoinette!' my mother announced loudly, her voice ringing out across the room. 'It is the dearest wish of King Louis of France and myself.'
Marie Antoinette. Everyone stared at me and mouthed the new and unfamiliar name. Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette.
I do not know if I will ever get used to it. It sounds so French and unfamiliar and not like me at all. I think that in my heart I will always be Antonia.
Monday, 6th November.
Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette.
Wednesday, 15th November.
I went to see Durfort today and asked if it would be possible for me to take my ladies in waiting with me to France. I should have asked Mama and Joseph of course but I felt suddenly quite bold and decided to see Durfort himself.
I thought it quite a reasonable request but he stared at me in horror, his cheeks purpling with rage. 'No, it is quite impossible.'
I must admit that I had expected this. 'Why not? They are nobly born. What possible reason could there be for refusing to let them accompany me?' I came perilously close to stamping my feet.
Durfort recovered himself a little but could not help looking contemptuous. 'As Dauphine of France you will be expected to only have French attendants. It would not be suitable or acceptable for a Princess of France to surround herself with foreigners.' This last word was said with absolute revulsion. 'Your attendants may be perfectly adequate here in Vienna but they will not be at all suitable for Versailles.'
'You do not like us do you, Monsieur de Durfort?' I am still amazed that I said this but frankly what right has this awful, perfumed, nasty little man to be so critical of us and our ways? 'I have heard the way that you speak about my mother's court and the people that I care for and even about me and I want you to know that it displeases me very much.' And with this I turned on my heel and walked away as gracefully and unhurriedly as I could manage.
I hope he knows that he has made an enemy and I hope it frightens him.
Sunday, 3rd December, Advent Sunday, late.
How very different tonight was in comparison to all the jolly, happy Advent Sundays we have enjoyed in the past. On the surface, all was as it had always been with all the court gathering after dinner to watch me light the first twisted red and gold candle on the Adventkrantz and then feast on special cinnamon and nutmeg biscuits as the musicians struck up and Joseph and then Leopold led me out to dance. However, my heart ached for all who are absent this year and far from home.
Afterwards the footmen helped us into heavy fur cloaks and hats and we all ran outside into the snow and pelted each other with snow balls, giggling insanely as we slid about on the icy ground and breathed on our red hands to warm them up.
'You will miss this,' Joseph said to me in an undertone, as I came to stand beside him, my cheeks very pink and warm and my hair escaping in coils from its tight chignon.
I looked at him and smiled. 'Yes, of course but I am sure that the courtiers at Versailles know how to have fun as well.'
Joseph did not reply but simply looked sad and patted my cheek.
'Well, if they do not know to have fun then I shall have to show them, won't I?' I said with a defiant look. 'They really do sound like a disagreeable lot.'
Joseph laughed then and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. 'That is always how I have regarded them, certainly. I believe that it was very different when Madame la Marquise de Pompadour was still alive but nowadays, ah, well...' He shook his head and would not say any more.
Tuesday, 18th December, afternoon, so tired.
There was the most enormous masked ball last night at Schönnbrunn. Joseph tells me that almost 4,000 people attended and I can well believe it as the rooms were so terribly crowded. Luckily it did not snow last night so the footmen were able to throw open the doors to the gardens so that people could don cloaks and stroll about the lawns when it became too hot inside to be quite comfortable.
Oh, I do love masked balls! I wore a gown of midnight blue velvet and silk, with gold and silver stars embroidered on the skirts and across the bodice. I even had matching diamond stars in my hair and decorating my blue velvet mask. Of course it was impossible for me to be incognito (which I would have loved above anything) as Mama insisted that I remain at her side all night and would only allow me to dance with my brothers. Such a shame.
I am so tired now though! We left the ball in the early hours and drove back to the Hofburg in the moonlight, which was excessively romantic even if I only had Clementina, Lucia and my brother Leopold for company.
Perhaps one day something truly romantic will happen to me? Is it very wrong to hope, just a little tiny bit for something so very lovely to happen to me?
Chapter Six
Monday, 1st January 1770, New Year's Day.
The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette Page 18
