The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (23 page)

Sunday, 20
th
August, I don't know where we are.

We set off two days ago from Vienna and have been on the road ever since , breaking our dry and dusty journey at castles belonging to Mama's highest ranking courtiers, who have frantically ridden ahead to prepare their homes and retainers for our arrival.

'No fuss, please no fuss,' is Mama's constant refrain and yet we all know that if she is not greeted by a roaring fire, a sumptuous dinner, a hot scented bath and a comfortable bed then there will be trouble indeed for all concerned.
   

As for me, I care not. I sit opposite Mama
 
in the rolling, bumping Imperial carriage with its soft russet velvet seats and do my best my best to divert her with endless card games and sometimes by reading aloud from a book of devotions. She still spends much of the day
 
working, with official
 
documents piled on the seat beside her and hanging over the edges of the small mahogany writing desk that she props on her knees. At these times I am left to my own devices and after a fruitless half hour spent pretending to read, I usually end up breathing on the windows and drawing
 
pictures or dozing with Mops curled up on my lap as pretty villages, shimmering rivers and lush woodland flash past the window.

Sometimes we pause our carriage in a particularly picturesque village and descend to receive homage from the populace. Mama changes at times like these and becomes smiling, benevolent and even carefree. She bends her head eagerly to listen to the people that surround her and smiles with easy and genuine delight at their children as they cluster around her
 
and offer flowers.
 

At first I hung back awkwardly, feeling shy and uncertain as I was so unused to contact with ordinary people.
 
Mama has always encouraged us all to be on good terms with the hundreds of servants and retainers who work in our residences but that is very different to the ordinary, humble Austrians who live in the villages outside Vienna. Soon, however I found myself following Mama's lead and bending down to smile, laugh and chat just as she did, clasping their work roughened hands between mine and lifting the small children up for a kiss and a special smile just for them. I find that I enjoy these interludes very much; how sweet it is to be able to make other people so happy just with one's mere presence alone.

'You have a good way with the people, Antonia,' my mother praised me after we have climbed into our carriage after one such occasion. 'It reminds me of your dear father and I think that he would have been very proud had he lived to see it.' We both had tears in our eyes after this and had to gaze out of our respective windows for a while until we had quite composed ourselves.

Tuesday, 22
nd
August, Mariazell.

We have arrived and are staying in a mansion in the middle of the town, which is situated high up in the mountains, where the only sound is that of the villagers, the distant lowing of goats and the melodious tinkling of the little bells around their necks. The views of the enormous lilac mountains from my bedroom window are impressive and as I write this I cannot stop glancing across and catching my breath again at how stunning it is. I have never before seen anything like it and I wish that Ferdinand and Max were here as well as I am sure they would be just as amazed as I am although I am sure they would rather be here in the Winter when I am told that the mountains and surrounding area are coated in thick white snow.

Tonight we dine with the local dignitaries and then tomorrow we will visit the shrine itself.

Wednesday, 23
rd
August, late after dinner.

After a breakfast of hot chocolate and rolls with jam, we were taken by carriage to the old basilica which lay on the outskirts of the town. Mama's eyes filled with tears as she
 
gazed up at the lovely white and pink old building with its beautiful tall gothic spire and she reached across and took hold of my hand. I wanted to say that it looked as though it had been made out of icing but decided not to as Mama looked so emotional.

'I took my first Communion here,' she murmured as we stepped through the intricately carved archway into the basilica. 'I still remember the day well. My parents were here and all of the court and I wore a beautiful dress of white satin and lace, with my hair flowing down my back. I thought I looked like an angel.'

I walked at her side down the prettily tiled aisle, wondering at how bright and pretty everything was and looking about myself at the enormous and beautiful old stained glass windows and serene faced wooden statues of saints that stood in alcoves in the whitewashed walls. The basilica was almost empty, except for a few townspeople, who stared at us curiously as we passed but did not approach.

'Here.' Mama stepped inside a chapel and I followed, catching my breath at the exquisite silver work that surrounded the altar and gazing up in awe at the huge silver statues arrayed above it. There in the very centre was placed a tiny wooden statue of the Virgin Mary with the Holy Child on her lap, both crowned and gazing indifferently out upon the world.
 
Mama
 
immediately fell to her knees and crossed herself and after a moment's hesitation I followed her lead,
 
gasping a little as the chill of the tiled floor seeped through my thick blue velvet skirts. I closed my eyes tightly and thought about Carolina and Amalia, who were both so far away, about France and the Dauphin, which were to be my own fate and Josepha, Johanna, Josephina, Isabella and poor Papa who were all dead now.
 
I opened my eyes and gazed up at the solemn, beautiful face of the Virgin and felt
 
all my worries and concerns drain away so that finally and for the first time in months I felt entirely free of anxiety and at peace. I knew then with absolute certainty that everything would work out for the best and that I had nothing to fear.

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, 3
rd
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, 22
nd
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, 24
th
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.'