The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (35 page)

Anna winked at me. 'We are working as fast as we can!' She pretended not to notice when I unpinned the little diamond and enamel watch that Mama had given me from my bosom and hid it in my fist, determined to have something of home about my person as I entered my new country.
 

I watched in the mirror as they applied more violet scented powder to my hair then powdered my face and applied two heavy circles of rouge to my already rosily blushing cheeks. 'This is how it is done at Versailles,' Clementina whispered in my ear. 'We have been instructed to make you look exactly as like a Dauphine.' She dabbed some heavy jasmine scent at the base of my throat and on my wrists. 'You must even smell like a Dauphine,' she said with a smile.

I touched my rouged cheeks and stared at myself in shock, thinking how alien and odd I looked and how unnecessary such false colours are when my own complexion is so fresh and clear. When I get to Versailles there will be no more rouge. The smell of jasmine made my head hurt and swim and I longed for my usual fresh lilies, roses and violets: the scents of my girlhood.

My ladies, to their credit, were very conscious of how cold I must be in such a draughty, damp room and worked quickly to dress me again in layers of fresh silk petticoats, a lace edged chemise, gold embroidered stockings and then a heavy silk corset and the wide wooden panniers that would support my heavy cloth of gold gown with its complicated layers of lace and gold spangled gauze ruffles and tiny gold ribbon bows. I gazed at myself in the mirror as Clementina slipped my new gold and diamond shoes on to my stockinged feet, impressed and terrified by my much altered appearance. I no longer looked like the Archduchess Antonia that had romped so playfully at Schönbrunn and the gardens of Laxenburg with my fair hair bobbing about my shoulders and my blue cotton skirts stained by grass, mud and dirty paws.
 
'I look like a princess,' I murmured.
 

'Then our work here is done,' Clara said with a proud smile.
 

There was time for a last secret hug before I lifted up Mops and we went into the adjoining ante room, where we were to officially say our farewells. I kissed and hugged each of them close, making no effort to check the tears that welled up in my eyes and ran down my red cheeks as we said our last sad goodbye. My ladies had been with me for a long time and I knew that I would miss them terribly in the times to come.

'I will never forget you,' I whispered as we all sobbed together. 'I owe so much to all of you.' I had given them my parting presents the night before – each one was given a diamond surrounded miniature of myself and also one of my own rings that I had pulled from my fingers to give to them.

Prince Starhemberg gave an impatient cough as I moved from person to person, saying goodbye and hugging each and everyone as the tears continued to spill down my cheeks, blurring the hated rouge. 'Your Highness, France awaits us,' he said.

I nodded and after one last kiss, one last hug I took my place in front of the door and prepared myself for what lay beyond. Only a few seconds more and everything would change.

'Wait!' The Prince pursed his lips then summarily pulled my little Mops from my arms and handed him to Clara. 'There must be nothing Austrian about your Highness' person,' he reminded me with an awful look. 'Is there anything else that you have neglected to remove?'

I thought of Mama's watch and shook my head firmly, while gazing at poor Mops, who whined and struggled, not understanding why he had been taken away from me. 'Please can I take him with me?' It seemed terribly cruel that even my dog would have to remain behind. 'The French surely won't object to just one little dog?'

'I am sorry but my instructions were very clear,' the Prince said in as unapologetic a tone as I have ever heard. 'Perhaps you will be able to request his return once you are ensconced at Versailles.'

'Then I will have to submit won't I?' I said with an attempt at cheerfulness that belied the misery that I felt and the tears that continued to stream from my eyes. I reached out to give Mops' soft nose one last pat then forced myself to turn away, silently vowing that I would force them to return him to me at whatever cost.

 
'Good luck,' Clementina whispered as a footman opened the door and I stepped clumsily and blinded by tears into the large tapestry hung
salon
that stood in the very centre of the pavilion. I turned to take one last look at my friends but it was too late and the door had already swung shut behind me, hiding them from my view forever.

'Madame la Dauphine.' I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand as the Prince bowed to the trio of French notables who cautiously watched us from the other side of the red velvet covered table that ran down the centre of the room, presumably symbolising the boundary between our two nations. I looked at them from beneath my lowered lashes, noting their disdainful expressions and rude stares as the Prince handed me up on to a dais at the far end of the room and the three French noblemen stepped up also.

'May I present Monsieur le Comte de Noailles, who has been charged with the great privilege and honour of escorting you into France.' He pronounced it rather self consciously as 'No Ay' and I hid my smile behind my fan as a tall rather stupid looking man bowed low before me.

I was then led to an ornate, purple velvet upholstered chair that stood at the very top of the table, upon which a pile of state papers had been arranged. I made myself comfortable and looked around the room, taking in the sumptuous tapestries depicting the marriage of Jason and Medea that hung on every wall and, less splendidly, the rain that was beginning to trickle down through the makeshift ceiling making large puddles of water on the wooden floor.

There followed a lengthy series of speeches from both sides, complimenting myself, the Dauphin Louis and our respective families and also professing all manner of perpetual affections and amities between us all. I made every attempt to look alert and interested, knowing that all eyes were upon me but in my mind I was drifting far far away and straining to hear my dear friends and poor Mops through the door that separated us, unwilling to believe that they had already begun their long journey home. A loud crack of thunder nearby made us all jump as I was handed a pen and, frowning a little with concentration, leaned forward to apply my new name '
Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne
' to the papers in front of me, not really knowing what I was signing and caring even less.
 

The Comte de Noailles then very gravely led me around the puddles to the other side of the table and a door on the other side of the splendid
salon
opened and a crowd of splendidly dressed ladies entered the room with a haughty, tight lipped
grande dame
at their head, stumbling a little as she came and after them there came several dozen splendidly dressed nobles, both male and female who ogled me in the most unabashed manner and giggled slyly behind their fans. 'May I present my wife, Madame la Comtesse de Noailles, who has the honour to be your
dame d'honneur
. ' She made a low curtsey, her blue silk skirts billowing around her and instinctively I moved quickly forward and embraced her, just as I would have done with one of my own ladies in waiting.

'Madame la Dauphine forgets herself,' she muttered, firmly removing herself and stepping away, shivering all the while in obvious distaste while I stared after her in confusion. Was not an embrace from me an honour? Did she not want to be my friend? I quickly realised that I had committed a
faux pas
but could not bring myself to feel sorry for it. If they did not like my manners then that was their stuck up French problem, not mine.

I took a deep breath. 'Forgive me, Madame, the tears that I have just shed for my family and for my homeland. From this day forward, I shall never again forget that I am a Frenchwoman.'

Madame la Comtesse then introduced me to the other ladies that had entered in her wake, all of whom were older than me and had, as Monsieur de Comte de Noailles whispered to me, making me shudder with his mephitic breath, formerly acted as ladies in waiting to the now dead Queen Marie and had been waiting for two years for a new mistress.

First there was the Duchesse de Villars, a tall, boldly rouged redhead with a disdainful expression and arrogant mien. Then there was the icily beautiful Marquise de Duras who was dressed to kill in shimmering green satin, black lace and diamonds. They both flicked their eyes over me in a contemptuous manner, giving me a quick up-and-down once over that was most disconcerting and made me crimson beneath my rouge and powder.

I turned quickly and with much thankfulness to the three younger ladies in the party: the Duchesse de Chaulnes, a soulful blonde with a faintly melancholy air that was emphasized by her exquisite gauze and lace white dress, soft voice and manner of earnestly wringing her tiny hands whenever she spoke and the Comtesse de Mailly, who was slightly less pretty but infinitely more lively with sparkling dark eyes, a ready smile and sincere manner. Last of all was the Comtesse de Saulx-Tavannes, a tiny, petulant, elegant brunette with a mutinous air about her.

It must all seem very strange,' Madame de Mailly whispered to me as we exchanged curtseys, 'but you really have nothing to be afraid of. Madame de Noailles is a stickler for etiquette but harmless beyond that and I am sure you will soon learn to ignore Madame de Duras' ridiculously egotistical barbs.' She gave my arm a friendly pinch. 'They are simply eaten up with jealousy, you see. Since the Queen died, everyone has desperately wanted to be the
Grande Dame
of Versailles and now, here you are and to add insult to injury, looking so fresh and pretty and
young
too.' She gave me a saucy wink. 'Well, can you blame them for wanting to hate you?'

I nodded but felt quite bewildered by their stares, the way that they all pressed close to me and above all the rapid way that they spoke French. It was quite different from the sedate lessons with my Abbé and Mama and I had to really concentrate in order to keep up, which gave mesdames de Noailles and Villars yet more excuses to roll their eyes at my stupidity.

Finally, I was led out through the antechambers on the French side of the pavilion and the Comte flung open the doors with a grand gesture, ignoring the darkly ominous sky above and the heavy rainfall as he grandly and proudly announced: '
Bienvenue à France
!'

Welcome to France. I am here! I can hardly believe it. More later as I am being called away.

7
th
May, Strasbourg, even later still.

After we had left the pavilion, I was led, picking our way carefully around the puddles and soft muddy ground to my splendid
berline
carriage and we set out on the next stage of our journey. Behind me I heard shouts and consternation as the pavilion roof collapsed beneath the weight of the rainwater and the locals started to tear apart the splendid interior, pillaging the beautiful decorations inside and bearing them away.
 

I tried to look behind as my carriage rolled over the bridge and onto muddy French soil but could see nothing but the carriages of the French nobility who were to accompany me and a few laughing peasants running away bearing rolls of tapestry and paintings over their heads to protect themselves against the rain. Of my Austrian companions there was nothing more to be seen and I sank back against the soft blue velvet upholstery feeling lonely and quite abandoned.

The rain began to clear and was gradually replaced by brilliant sunshine as we approached the city of Strasbourg and by the time we had driven beneath the first of several flower and ribbon bedecked arches the day had been quite transformed from one of gloom to one of sunshine, joy and promise. As the rain vanished so did my tears and I began to look out of the carriage windows with real interest and pleasure, enjoying the smiles, shouts and cheers of the multitudes that had come out to see me and the flowers that were being thrown so lavishly in my path while the hundreds of handsome young soldiers who lined the route cheered, threw their hats and fired their guns into the air at my approach.

My carriage drove through the teeming streets of the city, rumbling underneath triumphal arches, passing by the beautiful gothic pink sandstone cathedral and stopping every so often as the press of people became too great to let us pass while all the while I could hear the distant and constant ringing of church bells, a joyous sound that made my lonely heart soar.
 

We were greeted by Cardinal de Rohan in the courtyard of his exquisitely elegant palace on the Place du Château. I took an instant liking to the Cardinal, who had a kindly twinkle in his small blue eyes and took my hand in the most friendly manner before formally welcoming me to the city in German.

'Please, Monsieur, do not address me in German,' I said with a gentle smile, cutting his effusions short. 'From this moment on, I understand only French.' I hoped that Madame de Noailles heard and approved but really who cares as everyone who heard me began to applaud then passed my words from the courtyard to the big square beyond until finally everyone was cheering and shouting my name over and over again.

After this a large group of beautiful shepherds and shepherdesses appeared before us in lovely colourful local costumes and bearing rush baskets filled to the brim with sweetly scented red and pink rose petals which they proceeded to scatter before me as they danced. Next up were twenty four noble maidens from the best families in the area who danced before me in beautiful white silk dresses and flung yet more rose petals in the air until the ground was covered in a blanket of pink, white and red and the air was heady and sweet with the luscious scent of roses as we crushed them underfoot. When they had stopped and were standing, panting slightly, in a row before me I walked amongst them, asking each her name and presenting them with a posy of roses as a keepsake. One of them reminded me of my sister Carolina, with the same wide blue eyes, high forehead and crimson pouting lips and to her I bestowed the beautiful painted fan that I had been carrying since I got changed at the pavilion.