The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette

by Clegg, Melanie

  Madame de Mailly is the kindest of them all and also the most useful when it comes to imparting information to a novice like myself as she is very friendly and also seems to absolutely understand how lost I feel at the moment. I think that perhaps we might become friends.

  Tuesday 8th May, after breakfast.

  Madame de Mailly on Madame de Chaulnes: 'Marie-Paule always looks miserable because her life really is a trial, poor thing. Well, for a start she is a daughter of the Duc de Luynes (this said with a significant look that I have yet to decipher) and then on top of that her husband is very strange indeed and cares more about his plants and trees than he does about her and as for his mother! Well, the old Duchesse has been a mortification to us all for many years now and is quite possibly the most annoying, ridiculous example of a sadly aging coquette that you could ever hope to meet. Of course she has never quite recovered from the blow of La Pompadour's little girl dying before she could succeed in marrying her to her awful son. Monsieur le Duc is apparently so in love with his plants that he has refused to be a husband to the poor girl and so she affects to always wear white in order to either advertise her virginity or shame him into taking action, I am not sure which. It is admirable of course but imagine the scandal should she ever step out in anything coloured.'

  Madame de Chaulnes on Madame de Mailly: 'She is the same as all the rest of the Talleyrand-Périgord family: pretending to be utterly insouciant and with a smile for everyone but nonetheless convinced at all times of her own superiority. Be warned.'

  8th May, later.

  We have just returned from the cathedral, where Mass was celebrated by the Cardinal's handsome nephew, the Prince Louis de Rohan. Nothing could surpass the magnificence of Strasbourg Cathedral, which towered ominously over us as we walked beneath billowing blue, white and silver canopies from the Palais Rohan across the square to its wonderfully carved and embellished golden sandstone portals.

  'It is said to be the tallest building in all the world,' Marie-Paule de Chaulnes whispered to me as we paused for a brief moment to stare open mouthed up at the enormous decorated spire. 'You can see the spire from many leagues away.'

  'How impressive.' We continued walking. 'I do not think that I have ever seen anything quite so beautiful although beautiful seems like quite the wrong word somehow doesn't it?'

  'Superb?' Marie-Paule offered. 'I grew up nearby at Dampierre and used to come to Strasbourg often as a little girl with my parents. I believed that God himself must certainly reside inside the cathedral.'

  'I can totally understand why,' I said with a smile. I know that the other ladies think that she is rather ridiculous and affected but I feel very sorry for her and think that they are being very harsh. It must be horrid to have a husband who does not like you and I really don't understand why he isn't madly in love with her as she resembles the girls in Greuze's sad paintings and looks like she should be weeping over dead canaries or sobbing elegantly while clutching pink roses to her tastefully exposed breast. That sort of thing.

  8th May, later still.

  Prince Louis de Rohan is so handsome. I think it must be very distracting for the ladies of Strasbourg whenever he celebrates Mass as he does so in such a theatrical manner and with much dramatic rolling of his blue eyes and tender smiles upon the congregation. It was very chilly inside the cathedral this morning and yet I saw plenty of ladies, of varying ages, fanning themselves as though quite overcome.

  He seemed to reserve his most winsome smiles for my direction but I pretended not to notice.

  Sunday 13th May, Soissons, late.

  I can't believe that almost a week has passed since I last wrote in my journal. I had thought you lost forever but it turned out that you were hidden at the bottom of a box, which was a massive relief as imagine the terrible scandal should anyone discover you! Imagine the horror should they then broadcast my most secret thoughts to the rest of the world!

  Anyway, this has been a week of much travelling and celebration. Whatever fears I may have had about the French people's reaction to my marriage were entirely dissipated by the mass rejoicing and joy that greeted my progress across their country, resting at Nancy, Chalons, Rheims and now Soissons. Never before have I felt so loved, never before have I experienced such approval. I hope that it always stays this way. When I lie down to sleep at night my ears are ringing with the echo of cheers and the sound of fireworks exploding into the night sky.

  In return I respond as eagerly as I can to their overtures. I return their smiles, gather their bouquets to my heart and listen attentively when they speak. When children come forward to present me with flowers, I kneel down at their level and look them in the face before embracing them. I can't help it. My heart is overflowing with love for all people and for the French in particular. I have gone from being the very least of Mama's daughters to the most important and I feel like a princess in a fairy tale.

  Last night in Soissons there was a huge banquet followed by some oratory by students at the local college before we went to the opera. They spoke to me in Latin, which I smiled and nodded along with as though I understood every single word before, carefully primed by my Abbé, I replied with a few sentences in the same language. They had the grace to hide their expressions of surprise beneath wild applause. I may not be very clever but I always know what will most please people and that, I think, is far more important.

  However, my journey is almost at an end as tomorrow we drive to Compiègne, where I will meet my husband and his family for the first time. I feel myself tremble with fear and excitement every time I think of it. It seems like such a long time ago now that I first heard talk of my betrothal to the Dauphin and now here I am in France and tomorrow we will finally stand face to face. It has taken me twenty seven days, almost a month to get here and now Vienna feels so very far away.

  I wonder if he is thinking of me too? I am so impatient to meet him. I have his miniature lying on the desk beside me and I often pause to look at it and trace his painted face with my finger, imagining what he is like and hoping that he will like me.

  I am so ready to fall in love with him.

  Monday, 14th May, Château de Compiègne.

  It is done. I am here. I do not know what to think or what to say.

  The morning seems so long ago now. I will always remember that I was shaking with fear as my ladies in waiting dressed me for my first meeting with the Dauphin and his grandfather, the King at Compiègne. Madame de Noailles was very quick to make it plain that the meeting with the King was the most important thing but we all know that it is his grandson's approval and love that I must win.

  'Will they like me? What will they think of me?' I kept asking as Mesdames de Chaulnes and Mailly turned me this way and that, pulling out my yellow silk skirts, patting my powdered hair into place, spraying me with violet scent and fastening my diamond studded lace choker around my throat. 'Will he like me?' I held out my arms so that they could clasp diamond and pearl bracelets around my slim wrists. 'Will he think that I am pretty?' I ignored Madame de Noailles exasperated 'chut'.

  Madame de Mailly smiled kindly and patted my hand. 'You are worrying far too much. He will think that you are delightful.'

  'And the King?' I held on to Madame de Chaulnes' shoulder as I slipped my feet into a pair of pale pink silk shoes with beautiful sapphire buckles. 'What will he think? Will I please him?' I turned this way and that in front of the mirror, still not quite used to the sight of myself in the thick red rouge that was applied to my cheeks every morning. I have pleaded with them not to have it but it is 'expected of me' according to Madame de Noailles and so, unwillingly, I submit.

  They all exchanged a look, one that I was not able to decipher. 'Oh, he will be extremely pleased,' Madame de Saulx-Tavannes said with a laugh that was not entirely genuine. 'I would not trouble your lovely head about that!'

  The minutes dragged terribly after this as first we were entertained by some notables of the city and then we all had lunch, which I
could only pick at before we went to sit together in the pretty pale blue and gold sitting room next to my bedroom and waited to be called downstairs to the carriages. Madame de Mailly tried her best to distract me with a game of cards but my mind was very definitely elsewhere and the Dauphin was all that I could think or talk about until I am sure they could all have quite cheerfully slapped me.

  Finally, the summons came and we made our way swiftly down the marble staircase to the waiting carriages. Mesdames de Noailles and Villars sat opposite me and as usual were keen to find fault with everything so that I left Soissons to a chorus of complaints and criticisms. Like Monsieur de Durfort, they think that Versailles is superior to everything. They really are such foolish creatures.

  Our carriage took a road that ran alongside the Aisne river and I gazed out across the water, trying my best to still the wild, almost dizzying thump of my heart within my breast. In my lap I held a beautiful illustrated map that had been the gift of the Cardinal Rohan when we left Strasbourg. It detailed the route that I must take to get to Versailles and included tiny pictures of the places of interest that I might expect to see along the way although I think that I have probably missed most of them either because I was asleep or because I was talking to Madame de Mailly, who is so amusing and interesting. You would not believe the things that she has told me about the court at Versailles. I do not think that I will ever be able to look the people involved in the face!

  Finally there was a shout ahead and my carriage came to a juddering halt in a small clearing just inside the forest that surrounds the château. I looked in terror at Madame de Noailles as she pulled down the window and leaned out to see what was happening. 'Is it him?' I asked rather stupidly, placing my gloved hand against my fluttering heart. 'Is it really him?' I could hear the sound of shouts and good humoured laughter nearby as she conversed in rapid French with someone just out of sight.

  She pulled her head back in again with a look of ill concealed annoyance. 'No, it is Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul,' she said with a haughty sniff. 'He has ridden ahead to greet you.' The carriage door was pulled open and I was helped down, my feet in their delicate pink shoes squishing slightly into the mulch that covered the forest floor.

  'Madame la Dauphine.' A tall man with a round, very pock marked face stepped forward and knelt with much solemnity at my feet, seeming not to care about the well being of the splendid blue velvet suit that he wore with a careless grace. 'I selfishly craved the honour of being first to welcome you,' he said with a charming smile that made his battered face almost handsome again.

  I remembered all that I had been told by Mama and my Abbé about Choiseul and how he had worked hard to secure the marriage between the Dauphin and me. I also recalled all the small kindnesses like the hairdresser that he had sent to Vienna. Here at last was someone that I could trust and who, it seemed, had only my best interests at heart. 'Monsieur, I shall never forget that you are responsible for my happiness,' I said, keen to reward him for his efforts.

  The Duc grinned up at me like a fellow conspirator before adding with all the smoothness of a polished courtier: 'And that of France, Madame.' He offered me his arm and walked me back to my carriage, patting my hand in the most avuncular manner. 'I am so pleased to see you here at last,' he said with a smile. 'You are every bit as charming as I expected. More so in fact. I hear that you conquered the hearts of all who saw you.'

  I blushed and smiled up at Choiseul from beneath my lashes. 'I am glad that the people are pleased by me. It was a long journey, Monsieur, but I got here in the end.'

  Again we exchanged that smile and he bent to kiss my hand. 'And that is all that matters, Your Highness.' He pulled open the door to my carriage and handed me up inside himself, shaking his head and smiling at the footman who stepped forward to offer his services. 'The royal family are waiting in a clearing nearby.' He gave me a quizzical look. 'Are you ready?'

  I took a deep breath and smiled my most dazzling smile. 'Yes.' I settled back against the luxurious seat and nodded to him as the coach pulled away. This was it. This was the moment.

  14th May, even later.

  I felt utterly panic stricken as the carriage rolled through the forest although a small detached part of my mind was still able to notice and admire the way that the sunlight filtered softly through the green boughs overhead and dappled on to the trunks of the trees that surrounded us. It was truly a beautiful day, the perfect day in fact upon which to meet your one true love.

  I pulled down the window and deeply breathed in the fresh, sweetly scented air, trying my best to calm my fearful nerves and regain my composure. 'It is rather chilly,' Madame de Noailles observed pointedly but I ignored her, enjoying the soft breeze upon my hot cheeks, the soft whisper of the trees, the luminous light.

  It did not take long for the carriage to arrive at the clearing where the royal party awaited us and I cannot describe the emotions that I felt as we slowed down and then came to a halt amidst the peals of a triumphant fanfare. My door was pulled open and I had mere seconds left to anxiously pat my hair and waft my painted fan in front of my hot cheeks before the Duc de Choiseul appeared again, offering me his hand with a kindly smile. 'Come,' he said. 'It is time.'

  I gave him my hand and stepped gracefully from the carriage, my eyes first shyly fixed to the ground then raised irresistibly to the two male figures, one tall and gleaming with diamonds and the other smaller and more awkwardly postured who stood a small distance away in front of a splendid red and gold carriage. I turned and looked enquiringly at the Duc and he gave a small nod. 'His Majesty,' he murmured.

  I could wait no longer and so raised my skirts above my ankles so that the ruffled silk petticoats rustled prettily and ran towards them before sinking to my knees before the taller of the two men. 'Your Majesty,' I said, slightly breathless after my exertions as it is no mean feat to run in whalebone corsetry. 'Sire.' I looked up into his face, taking in the amused dark eyes that he had doubtless inherited from his spitfire Italian mother, his decisive chin and sensual mouth, which now smiled down upon me. 'Grandpapa.'

  The charming, rather sad smile wavered a little but remained intact. 'My dear child,' he murmured raising me up then with soft hands that smelled sweetly of jasmine and lavender. 'I am so pleased that you are here with us at last.' He looked me up and down and then, clearly liking what he saw, leaned forward and kissed me soundly upon each cheek. 'Your youth and beauty will bring the Spring to our court,' he said, his words echoing those of Cardinal Rohan.

  He stepped aside then and with a faint look of irritation beckoned forward the second figure who had retreated behind him. 'May I have the honour of presenting my grandson, Monsieur le Dauphin?'

  This then was my husband. I blushed and took a deep breath before raising my eyes and looking directly at the boy that I had been daydreaming about virtually every day since I first learned that I was to be his wife. What I beheld was a tall, rather overweight, blue eyed youth with a blank air and eyebrows so thick that they met over his rather big nose. My first thought was 'Oh, he doesn't look at all like his portraits' followed swiftly by 'He isn't at all handsome' with 'Oh well, he could be a lot worse and at least he looks kind' swift on its heels.

  I hid my disappointment well and smiled at him kindly as he stepped reluctantly forward and pecked the air beside my cheek as quickly as he could while all the witnesses laughed and applauded. He mumbled something that I could not quite make out but which I assumed was some rehearsed speech about how pleased he was to meet me finally and then retreated back into his grandfather's shadow again. He looked desperately unhappy and as I looked at him I felt my heart sink into my pretty shoes for he was clearly just as disappointed as I was. Only, how could this be when everyone else thought that I was so pretty and dainty?

  'My dear granddaughter.' I turned thankfully to King Louis, flushing a little with embarrassment as I met his eyes, which looked at me with such kindness and understanding. Of course he could not apologise to me for his
grandson's peculiar behaviour but he could, and did, do his best to mitigate it by putting my hand on his crimson velvet arm, patting it gently and then leading me away, all the while showering me with the most ridiculous compliments and calling me his 'very own beloved daughter' which made me feel quite giddy.

  He led me to a trio of over dressed older ladies who stood beside an ornate blue and gold carriage. I had barely noticed them at first but now they were practically hopping up and down, demanding attention. 'May I present my daughters?' the King said, again with that air of melancholy irritation.