The Queen`s Confession

The Bewildered Bride

On the no-man’s land of a sandbank in the middle of the Rhine a building had been erected, and in this was to take place the ceremony of the Remise. The Princess of Paar had impressed on me that this was the most important ceremony so far, for during it I should cease to be Austrian. I was to walk into that building on one side as an Austrian Archduchess and emerge on the other as a French Dauphine.

It was not a very impressive building, for it had been hastily constructed; it would be used for this purpose only and that would be an end of it. Once on the island I was led into a kind of antechamber where my women stripped me of all my clothes, and I felt so wretched standing there naked before them all that I had to think of my mother at her most stern to prevent myself breaking into sobs. I put my hand up to the chain necklace which I had worn for so many years, as though I were trying to hide it. But I could not save it. The poor thing was Austrian and therefore had to come off.

I was shivering as they dressed me in my French clothes, but I could not help noticing that they were finer than anything I had had in Austria and this lifted my spirits. Clothes meant a great deal to me and I never lost my excitement for a new material, a new fashion or a diamond. When I was dressed I was taken to the Prince Starhemburg who was waiting for me; he held my hand firmly and led me into the hall

which formed the centre of this building. It seemed large after the little antechamber, and in the centre was a table which was covered with a crimson velvet cloth. Prince Starhemburg referred to this room as the Salon de Remise, and he pointed out that the table symbolised the frontier between my old country and my new.

The walls of the room were hung with tapestries, which were beautiful, though the scenes depicted on them were horrible, for they represented the story of Jason and Medea. I found my eyes straying to them during the short ceremony, and when I should have been listening to what was being said I was thinking of Jason’s murdered children and the Furies’ flaming chariot. Years later I heard that before the ceremony the poet Goethe, then a young law student at Strasbourg University, had come to look at the hall and had expressed his horror it the tapestries, adding that he could not believe anyone would have put them where a young bride was to enter her us band country. They were pictures, he said, of ‘the most horrible marriage that could be imagined. ” People would see it as an omen, too.

The ceremony was fortunately short. I was led to the other de of the table, a few words were spoken, and I had become ench.

I was then relinquished by Prince Starhemburg and given into the hands of the Comte de Noailles, who led me into the antechamber on the French side of the building, where he presented me to his wife, who with him was to share the guardianship. I felt bewildered and scarcely glanced at her. All I knew was that I felt lonely and frightened, and that this woman was to look after me, and without thinking I threw myself into her arms, subconsciously feeling sure that this childish and impulsive gesture would charm her.

When I felt her stiffen, I looked up into her face. She seemed old . very old; her face was wrinkled and set into lines of severity. For a second or so my behaviour had startled her; and then gently, but firmly, she withdrew herself and said:

“I beg leave of Madame la Dauphine to present to her her Mistress of the Robes, the Duchesse de Villars.”

I was too surprised to show that I was hurt. In any case dignity had been stressed in my upbringing and my mother’s instructions to such an extent that it was almost intuitive, so, accepting the fact that I could hope for small comfort from Madame de Noailles, I turned to the Duchesse de Villars, to find that she too was old, cold and remote.

“And Madame la Dauphine’s maids of honour.” There they stood: the Duchesse de Picquigny, the Marquise de Duras, the Comtesse de Saulx-Tavannes and the Comtesse de Mailly —and all old. A band of severe old ladies!

I found myself coolly acknowledging their greeting.

From no-man’s island the brilliant cavalcade made its way to Strasbourg, the Alsace possession which had gone to France at the conclusion of the Peace of Ryswick nearly a hundred years before. The people of Strasbourg were delighted with the wedding, because they were so dangerously near the frontier and they were anxious to show their pleasure. The greeting I received in that town took away the flavour of the chilly reception in the Salon de Remise and my introduction to the ladies who had been chosen for me. This was the sort of occasion in which I revelled. In the streets of the city, children dressed as shepherds and shepherdesses brought flowers to me, and I loved the pretty little creatures and wished that all the solemn men and women would leave me with the children. The people of Strasbourg had had the happy idea of lining the route with small boys dressed as Swiss Guards; they looked adorable; and when I arrived at the Bishop’s Palace, where I was to stay that night, I asked if these little boys might be my guard for the night. When the little boys heard this they jumped about and laughed with pleasure; and next morning I peeped out of my window and saw them there. They saw me and cheered me. That was my most pleasant memory of Strasbourg.

At the Cathedral I was met by Cardinal de Rohan, an ancient man who moved as though he suffered acutely from the gout. There followed a grand banquet and a visit to the theatre. From a balcony of the Palace we watched the decorated barges on the river, and the firework display

was very exciting, particularly when I saw my initials entwined with those of the Dauphin, high in the sky. After that—to bed, to be guarded by my little Swiss Guards.

The next morning I went to the Cathedral to hear Mass, expecting to see the old Cardinal again; but on this occasion he was too unwell to attend and in his place was his nephew, a very handsome young man, Bishop-Coadjutor of the Diocese, Prince Louis de Rohan, who would most certainly become a Cardinal when his uncle died, which from the look of the old man could not be long.

He had one of the most beautiful voices I had ever heard-but perhaps I thought this because I was unaccustomed to the French love of the gracefully-spoken word. In a few days’ time I was to think that the King of France had the most beautiful voice in the world. But on this occasion I was charmed by that of Prince Louis. He was very respectful, but there was a gleam in his eye which disturbed me. He made me feel very young and inexperienced, even though his words were all that even my mother could have wished for.

Tor us, Madame,” he said, ‘you will be the living image of that dear Empress who for so long has been the admiration of Europe, as she will be in the ages to come. The soul of Maria Theresa will be united with that of the Bourbons.”

That sounded very fine, and I was happy to hear that they thought so highly of my mother.

“The Golden Age will be born from such a union, and under the happy rule of Marie Antoinette and Louis-Auguste our nephews will see the continuation of the happiness we enjoy under Louis the Well-Beloved.”

I caught a fleeting expression on the face of several people when the Prince said those words—almost a sneer, it seemed. I wondered briefly what it meant; then I was bending my head to receive the blessing.

I was to remember that man later—my enemy. My dearest Campan believed that his follies and his licence played a great part in bringing me where I am today. But on that occasion he was merely a handsome young man who had aken the place of a gouty old one, and I thought no more of him as we left Strasbourg and made our way across France.

Our progress was fete after fete. I grew tired of passing under triumphal arches, of listening to my praises sung except when they were sung by children: then I enjoyed them. It was all very strange, and I was often lonely in spile of being surrounded by crowds. The only people with me ;

whom I had known during my life in Vienna were the Abbe Vermond, who they had decided should stay with me j for a while. Prince Starhemburg and the Comte de Mercy-Argenteau all serious old men, and I longed for companions of my own age. My ladies-in-waiting I could well have done without. There was no one, simply no one, to chat with. ” to laugh with.

On went the cavalcade with two wagons in from which contained my bedroom furniture. In each place where we stayed the night they would unload and the bed and stools and armchairs would be taken out and put into a room which had been prepared for me. Through Saveme, Nancy, Commercy, to Rheims, the town where the French crowned their Kings and Queens.

“I hope,” I said with great feeling, ‘that it will be long before I come to this town again. “

Being at Rheims had reminded me that I could at any time be Queen of France, for my new grandfather was an old man of sixty. I felt alarmed at the thought. Many times during that journey a cold shiver would creep over me; but I dismissed my apprehensions and it all seemed like a game once more.

From Rheims to Chalons and on . to the forest of Compiegne.

It was the fourteenth of May when I first saw my husband. I had been travelling for nearly three weeks and my mother’s Court seemed remote.

I wished now that I knew a little more about my new family I tried to find out, but I could discover nothing from Madame de Noailles, nor from any of my ladies-in-waiting. Their replies were always conventional U and a little chilling, as though they were reminding me that it was not etiquette to ask questions. Etiquette! It was a word which was already beginning to weary me.

It was a brilliant day; the budding trees were breaking into leaf, the birds were in full song, and the glories of nature seemed as though they were trying in vain to compete with the extravagance of the court scene.

I was aware that the King of France—and with him my bridegroom—could not be far away, for the trumpets had started and the musketeers were beating their drums. It was a tremendously exciting moment. We were on the edge of the forest and the trees were like a beautiful back cloth there ahead of me I saw the gay uniform of guards and the bright livery of servants. I saw men and women more gorgeously attired than I had ever seen before. And I was aware of the most magnificent figure of them all, standing there . waiting for me. I knew immediately by his clothes, but chiefly by his bearing, that he was the King of France. He had that dignity, that grace, that complete kingliness which he must have inherited from his great-grandfather. Ie Roi Soleil.

My carriage had stopped, and I alighted immediately, which shocked Madame de Noailles, who I knew, was undoubtedly thinking that etiquette demanded I wait until someone came forward to conduct me to the King. It simply did not occur to me to wait. For three weeks I had been starved of affection, and this was my dear grandfather who, my mother assured me, would care for me and love me and be my friend. I believed that, and I wanted nothing so much as to throw myself into his arms and tell him how lonely I was.

A man was coming towards me—a very elegant man with a rosy laughing face which reminded me of a pug dog I had once had. I smiled at him as I ran past him. He seemed astonished but he was smiling too; and I discovered almost immediately afterwards that he was the much-talked-of Due de Choiseui whom the King had sent to bring me to him.

But I needed no one to take me to the King. I went straight to him and knelt.

He raised me up and kissed me on either cheek. He said:

“But … you are beautiful, my child.” His voice was melodious, far more beautiful than that of the Prince de Rohan; and his eyes were warm and friendly. “Your Majesty is gracious….” He laughed and held me against his magnificent coat which was decorated with the most beautiful gems I had ever seen. f “We are happy that you have come to us at last,” he went on. When we looked into each other’s face and he smiled, I lost my fear and that hateful sense of loneliness. He was old but one did not think of age in his presence. Regal yet kind, his manners were perfect. I flushed remembering my. own imperfect French. I so wanted to please him. He embraced me again as though he really felt affectionate towards me. His eyes studied me intently from head to foot. I did not know then of his penchant for young girls of my age but thought all this kindness, all this interest and flattering attention was because he had taken a particular fancy time.

Then he turned his head slightly and a boy came for ward. He was tall and ungainly; he shifted his gaze from my face as though he were not the least bit interested in me, and his indifference, after the warmth of the King’s greeting struck me almost like a blow. The feelings he roused; in me were so mixed that I could not attempt to analyse them, for this was my husband. He was gorgeously dressed,!

but how different he looked from his grandfather! He did not seem to know what to do with his hands. The King said: “Madame la Dauphine honours and. delights us with her presence.” The boy looked sheepish and stood there saying nothing,! doing nothing except look at the tips of his boots. I thought I would break through his indifference ‘so I took a step closer to him and held my face up to be kissed, for since the King had kissed me, why should I not kiss my bridegroom? He looked startled, recoiled, then made a move towards me as though he were forcing himself to some distasteful task. I felt his cheek against mine, but his lips did not touch my skin as the King’s had.

I turned to the King, and although he gave no sign that he thought the Dauphin’s conduct strange, I had always been quick to grasp people’s reactions, and I knew he was exasperated. I thought blankly: The Dauphin does not like me. Then I remembered Caroline who had cried so much because they had married her to an ugly old man. But I was neither old nor ugly. The King himself thought me charming;

most people thought me charming. Even old Kaunitz had thought there was nothing in my appearance to spoil the match.

The King had slipped his arm through mine and was presenting me to three of the strangest old ladies I had ever seen. These were my aunts, he told me: Adelaide, Victoire and Sophie. I thought them all very ugly indeed, but more than that—strange. They reminded me of the old witches in a play I had once seen. The eldest of them, who was obviously the leader, stood half a pace in front of the others; the second was plump and had the kindest face of the three; and the third was the ugliest. But they were my aunts and I must try to love them, so I went first to Madame Adelaide and kissed her. She then made a sign for Madame Victoire to step half a pace forward, which she did, and I kissed her. Then it was Madame Sophie’s turn. They looked like two soldiers on parade, Adelaide being the commanding officer. I wanted to laugh but I knew I dared not. Then I thought what fun it would have been if I could have gone to my room in the Hofburg with Caroline and told her about these new relations of mine, imitating them all in turn. I could have acted each of the three weird sisters—and the Dauphin.

The King said I should meet the rest of the family later, and, taking my hand, he himself helped me into his carriage, where I sat between him and the Dauphin. The trumpets blew and the drums rolled and we started on the road towards the town of Compiegne where we were to stay the night before we continued our journey to Versailles.

The King talked to me as we rode along and his soft voice was like a caress. He did caress me too, patting my hand and stroking it. He told me he loved me already, and that I was his dear granddaughter and he counted this one of the happiest days he had ever known because it had brought me into the family.

I felt the laughter bubbling up inside me. I had been dreading this meeting for I had always heard this man spoken of with awe. He was the greatest Monarch in Europe, my mother had said. I had imagined him stem and forbidding, and here he was, holding my hand, behaving almost like a lover, saying such charming things as if I had done him a great honour by coming to marry his grandson—not as if, as my mother had impressed on me, a great honour had been done to me. While the King chatted and behaved as if he were my bridegroom, the Dauphin sat beside me sullenly silent.

Later I was to learn a great deal about this King who was always charmed by youth and innocence, qualities which I undoubtedly possessed. He might have been wishing I was his bride, for he could never see a pretty young girl without contemplating seducing her. As for the Dauphin, he could never see a young girl without wanting to run away from her; but my imagination was adding drama and producing a situation which did not exist. It was not, as I wildly believed, that the King had fallen in love with me; nor that the Dauphin hated me. It was nothing so dramatic. I had a great deal to learn of the ways of the French in general, and in particular of the family of which I was now a member.

When we arrived at Compiegne the King told me he wished to present me to some of his cousins, the Princes of the Blood Royal. I replied that I enjoyed meeting all people and that the members of my new family were of particular interest to me.

“And you will be of particular interest to them,” he replied with a smile.

“They will be charmed and delighted and we shall have them all envying poor Berry here.”

The Dauphin, who was the Due de Berry, half turned away from us as though to say they were welcome to me; at which the King pressed my hand gently and whispered: “He is overcome by his good fortune, poor Berry!”

I was taken to the Ring’s apartment, and there I met the Princes, the first of whom was the Due d’Orleans, a grandson of the King’s uncle;

then there was the Due de Penthievre, grandson of Louis XIV (I later heard that his grandmother was Madame de Montespan, who had been that King’s mistress), and after that the Princes of Conde and Cond. They all seemed very old and uninteresting; but there were some young members of the family who were presented to me that day, and one of these was the Princesse de Lamballe. She was twenty-one, which seemed old to me, but I was immediately interested in her and felt I could be fond of her, for I was desperately looking for a friend in whom I could confide. She was already a widow and had had a very unhappy marriage, which fortunately for her lasted only two years. Her husband had become ‘ill’ after a love affair, I was told, for he had led a very wild life and he subsequently died. Poor Marie Therese! At the time of our meeting she was obliged to be the constant companion of her father-in-law, who was eccentric and mourned all the time for his son; all he cared about besides that was his collection of watches, and when he was not in a state of melancholy over the death of his son, he was clucking over his watches, winding them, displaying them to anyone whom he could bore with them. At least if I was apprehensive I was excited. The Princesse de Lamballe’s life was just one morbid journey from castle to castle with her peculiar father-in-law and his watches. Yet I found comfort in our meeting, and the moment when she was presented to me stands out clearly in my mind even now, among all those introductions which seemed to go on for hours and hours.

Everything was done with the utmost ceremony—even the trying-on of my wedding ring. They had to be sure that they had one which would fit, so the Master of Ceremonies came to my apartment accompanied by the King. With them came the Princes of the Blood Royal and the aunts, although the sole purpose of this little ceremony was that I should try on twelve rings to see which fitted me. When it had been found it was taken from me to be put on my finger by the Dauphin. The King embraced me and took his leave; and then, one by one, in order of precedence, the others did the same.

I was tired out and longed for my bed, and as my women prepared me I began to think of the Dauphin, who seemed so different from everyone else. He had scarcely spoken to me; he had scarcely looked at me; and I could hardly remember what he looked like. Yet I could remember the face of the King and that of the Princesse de Lamballe perfectly

“Madame is thoughtful,” said one of my women.

“She is thinking of the Dauphin,” whispered another coyly.

I smiled at the two girls; they looked gay, as though they were rather pleased to escape from the supervision of Madame de Noailles and my severe ladies-in-waiting.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“I was.” And as I spoke I seemed to hear my mother’s voice: Do not be too familiar with subordinates. ” But I must talk to someone. I longed for a little conversation which was not governed by etiquette.

“It’s natural for a bride to think of her bridegroom.”

I smiled encouragingly.

“He will sleep under a different roof tonight.” The girl’s voice rose on a giggle.

“Why?”

They smiled at me in the indulgent way people did at home in Vienna.

“Because he could not be under the same roof as the bride until the wedding night. He will stay in the house of the Comte de Saint-Plorendn, the Minister and Secretary of State of the King’s Household.”

“It’s interesting,” I said suppressing a yawn.

I lay in my bed and went on thinking about the Dauphin. I wondered whether he was thinking about me, and if so, what his thoughts might be.

Years later when I came to know him very well I saw what he had written in his journal on that night. It was characteristic of him and it told nothing (but by that time I had learned his secret and I knew the

reason for his strange conduct towards me). It simply said: “Interview with Madame la Dauphine.”

The next day we were to leave for the Chateau de la Muette, where we were to spend one night before going to Versailles the next day.

As we set out I was immediately aware that something was wrong. In the first place the King did not accompany us. He had gone on ahead. I wondered why. I learned later that it was because the road to Versailles from La Muette passed Paris, and the King never rode in state near or through his capital if he could help it. He had no intention, on an occasion like this, of receiving the hostile silence of the people. This is why I had seen those cynical looks on the people’s faces in Strasbourg Cathedral when the Prince de Rohan referred to him as Louis the Well-Beloved. When he was a young man he had been called that; but it was a different matter now. The people of Paris hated their King. They were poor, often short of bread, and they were furious because he squandered large sums of money on his palaces and his mistresses while they went hungry.

But this was not the matter which was causing great uneasiness among my friends. Mercy was in a state of uncertainty and had dispatched couriers to Vienna. The Abbe looked worried and so did Starhemburg. I wished they would, tell me what was wrong but of course they did not.

I had noticed, however, the looks of sly amusement on the faces of some of my women. Something was going to happen at La Muette.

On the way we called at the Carmelite Convent of St. Denis where I was to be presented to Louise, the fourth aunt—youngest sister of Adelaide, Victoire and Sophie. I was interested in Louise; she was different from the other three, and although I should have been sorry for her because she limped painfully and was pitiably deformed, with one shoulder higher than the other, I wasn’t, because she seemed so much happier than her three sisters. Dignified and, in spite of her Abbess’s habit, behaving like a royal personage, she was very friendly and seemed to sense that I wanted to talk to somebody, so she asked me many questions and talked about herself too, telling me how much happier she was at the convent than in the royal palaces, and that treasures on earth were not found in palaces. She had known this for a long time and had made up her mind that she wished to live her life in seclusion as an expiation of Sin.

I could not imagine that she had been very sinful and my expression must have conveyed this, for she said rather fiercely: “My own sins and those of another.”

Questions trembled on my lips. What other? But when ever I was about to ask some indiscreet question which would no doubt bring an interesting answer, I would see my mother’s face warning me against any lighthearted indiscretions, and pause. Then it would be too late.

As we came nearer to La Muette, Mercy’s preoccupation grew deeper. I heard him whisper to Starhemburg: “There is nothing nothing we can do.

That he should have chosen this time it is inconceivable. “

My attention was caught by the people who lined the route, particularly as we drew nearer to Paris. We did not enter the city but wound our way round it and the cheers were deafening. So I smiled and inclined my head as I had been taught to do; and the people shouted that I was mignon ne and I forgot all about Mercy’s worries because I always enjoyed this kind of applause so much.

I was rather sorry when we came to La Muette. The King was already there and waiting to present my brothers-in-law to me. The Comte de Provence was fourteen years old in fact he was sixteen days younger than I was and much more handsome than the Dauphin, but inclined to be a little plump, like his elder brother. He was more lively, though, and he seemed very interested in me. His brother, the Comte d’Artois, was a year or so younger than I, but there was a lively knowledgeable look in his eyes which made him seem older than his two brothers more worldly-wise, I mean. He took my hand and kissed it lingeringly, while his bold eyes were very admiring, and as I was always responsive to admiration I preferred Artois of the two brothers—perhaps of the three. But I was not going to bring the Dauphin into the comparison.

In fact I was trying not to think of the Dauphin, because to do so bewildered me a great deal and depressed me a little. In fact I did not know what to think of him and I was certainly afraid to think too deeply; so I successfully managed to put him from my mind. I could always live in the present, and there was plenty to occupy my thoughts.

Meanwhile, having met my two brothers-in-law, I must be prepared for the banquet which was to be eaten in private-a family affair and therefore much more intimate than all the others I had attended. Now I should be in the very heart of my new family.

The King came to my apartments and told me he had a gift for me, which was a casket of jewels. These delighted me, and he in turn was delighted to see my pleasure, and kept saying how enchanting it was to be young and so excited over trifles. Then he took from the casket a pearl necklace and held it up. Each pearl was the size of a hazelnut and they were all of perfect matching colour.

“It was brought to France by Anne of Austria,” he told me.

“So how fitting that it should be worn by another Princess from Austria ! This necklace was worn by my mother and by my wife. It is the property of all the Dauphines and Queens of France.”

As he ceremoniously fastened it himself, his fingers lingered on my neck and he said the pearls had never been shown to greater perfection. I had beautiful shoulders and when I grew up I would be a beautiful woman, an ornament to the throne of France.

I thanked him demurely, and then I looked up at him and flung my arms about his neck. This was wrong, I saw immediately from Madame de Noailles, who was standing by nearly fainting with horror at my presumption; but I did not care and nor did he.

He murmured: “Charming … charming. I am writing to your mother to tell her that we are all enchanted by her daughter.”

He was smiling as he left.

I then received a long lecture from Madame de Noailles as to how I should conduct myself in the presence of the King of France; but I was not listening. I was thinking that if they had married me to him as they had once thought of doing I should have been far less apprehensive than I was when I remembered that the next day was my wedding day.

At the intimate supper I saw all my new relations. Wearing the pearl necklace which the King had placed round my neck, I sat next to the Dauphin, who said nothing to me and did not look my way; but his brother Artois smiled at me and whispered that I looked very pretty.

I was immediately aware of the tense atmosphere, and my attention was caught by a young woman who was seated at the table talking rather more loudly than the rest. I had not been introduced to her, and as this was a family party I could not imagine who she was. She was very beautiful the most beautiful woman at the table. Her hair was fair, very thick and curling; her complexion was one of the loveliest I have ever seen; her blue eyes were enormous, being slightly prominent; and she lisped slightly, which made a contrast to her bold looks. She was magnificently dressed, and glittered with jewels; in fact she wore more jewels than anyone present. One could not help watching her, and even the King, at the head of the table, kept glancing her way;

he seemed very pleased to see her there, and once or twice I saw them exchange a look and a smile which made me feel they were very great friends indeed. But, I wondered, if the King was so fond of her, why is she not wanted here? The aunts were whispering together, and when she was not observed I noticed Adelaide throw a glance in the woman’s direction which could only be described as venomous. Every now and then the King would turn to me and address me, and when I answered in my quaint French he would smile, and so would everyone else. He said my French was charming, and so everyone was saying it. I felt it was a successful evening and I could not imagine why Mercy had been so anxious.

At last my curiosity was too much to be borne, and I said to the lady who was seated next to me: “Who is the pretty lady with the blue eyes and the lisp?”

There was a brief silence as though I had said something embarrassing.

Had Madame de Noailles been there I should have known how much so by her expression.

I waited for the answer, which seemed a long time in coming, and then:

“She is Madame du Barry, Madame la Dauphine.”

“Madame du Barry! She has not been presented to me.”

Everyone seemed to be studying their plates and some were trying not to smile.

Then someone said: “Madame … what do you think of her?”

“She is charming. What are her functions at Court?”

Again that pause, that slight heightening of colour in one or two faces, the tendency to smile.

“Oh, Madame, it is her function to amuse the King.”

“To amuse the King!’ I smiled at him across the table.

“Then want to be her rival.”

What had I said? I had merely made a loyal statement. Why was it received in such a manner? I saw the mingling of horror and amusement.

We left Muette the following morning and in due course arrived at the Palace of Versailles. I sat bolt upright in my carriage, for my companion was the Comtesse de Noailles and during the journey I had to hear another lecture. My behaviour had disturbed her; I would have to learn that the Court of France was very different from that of Austria. I must never forget that my grandfather was the King of France, and although etiquette might forbid even-him to show his displeasure, it could nevertheless be there. I half listened, and all the time I was wondering what my wedding dress would be like and whether the Dauphin was disappointed in me; and I thought fleetingly of my sister Caroline, who would be praying for me on this day-and crying for me too. At last we came to Versailles. It was an impressive moment. I had heard the name throughout my childhood spoken in hushed tones.

“This is how it is done at Versailles.” That meant it was absolutely right. Versailles was the talk and envy of every Court in Europe.

At the gates of the Palace, vendors of swords and hats were gathered.

I have heard it said since that Versailles was a great theatre where the play of Royalty at Home was presented There was a great deal of truth in this, for anyone could come to the Salon d’Hercules except dogs, mendicant friars and those newly marked with smallpox providing they had a hat and sword. It was amusing to see those who had never carried a sword before they took one of those for hire at the gates, swaggering into the chateau. Even prostitutes were allowed in, provided they did not ply their trade there or seek clients. But in order to enter the more intimate apartments it was necessary to have been presented at Court. There was, naturally, very little privacy at Versailles. In our Court at Vienna, where everything was conducted in a far simpler manner, I had been accustomed to a certain amount of supervision; but here I was to be on show for most of my day.

The Palace gates opened to let us in and we drove through the line of Guards Swiss and French standing there to do me special honour. I had a strange feeling of excitement mingling with apprehension. I was not given to introspection, but in those moments I had an uneasy notion that I was being carried on to fulfill a strange destiny which, had I wanted to, I could do nothing to avert.

In the royal courtyard the equipages of the princes and nobles were already drawn up. I exclaimed in delight at the horses with their red plumes and blue cockades, for I loved horses almost as much as I loved dogs; they pranced excitedly and they looked very fine, their dancing manes plaited with coloured ribbons.

Before us lay the chateau, the sun shining on its count less windows so that it seemed agliner with diamonds a vast world of its own. And so I entered the Palace of Versailles, which was to be my home for so many years-in fact until those dark days when I was driven from it.

On my arrival I was taken to a temporary apartment on the ground floor because those apartments usually assigned to the Queens of France were not ready. When I think of Versailles now I remember in detail the rooms I was to occupy after those first six months—those beautiful rooms on the first floor which open out of the Galerie des Glaces. My bedchamber had been used by Marie Therese, wife of Louis XIV, and Marie Leczinska, wife of Louis XV; and from the windows I looked out on the lake—Piece d’eau des Suisses—and the parterre with the two staircases which were called Les Escaliers des Cent Marches, leading to the orangerie, which contained twelve hundred orange trees.

But on that first occasion I was taken to my ground-floor apartment, and there ready for me were those grim ladies-in-waiting with my wedding dress. I gasped with pleasure and my gloomy thoughts were all chased away by the sight of it. I had never before seen such a lovely dress and I was enchanted by its panniers of white brocade.

As soon as I reached my apartment the King came to welcome me to Versailles. What charming manners he had! And with him were two little girls: my sisters-in-law, Clothilde and Elisabeth. Clothilde, the elder, was about eleven, inclined to be too plump, but very friendly; as for little Elisabeth, I found her delightful: I kissed her and said we should be friends. The King was pleased and whispered to me that the more he saw me the more he fell under my spell. Then he and the little girls left and the ladies-in-waiting fell on me and prepared me for my wedding.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon when the Dauphin came to lead me to the chapel. It was very hot, and although he sparkled in gold-spangled net, the brilliance of his clothes only made him look more dour. He did not glance at me as he took my hand and led me into the King’s Council Chamber where the procession was forming. I remember noticing the red marble mantelpiece and the smell of pomade; there was a haze of powder in the air from freshly-powdered wigs and a frou-frou of silks and brocades as the ladies in their voluminous and elaborate skirts moved across the floor.

The Grand Master of the Ceremonies led the procession, followed by the Dauphin and myself, he holding my hand;

his was warm, clammy, and, I knew, reluctant. I tried to smile at him but he avoided my glance, and immediately behind me walked Madame de Noailles, so I could not whisper to him. Behind her came the Princes of the Blood Royal with their attendants, followed by my young brothers-in-law and the King; and after them the little Princess, whom I had met for the first time that day, with the aunts and other Princesses of the Court.

Through the Galerie des Glaces and the Grand Apartments we went to the Chapel, where the Swiss Guards were lined up, and as the King entered they blew their fifes and beat their drums to herald his arrival. It did not seem like our chapel at home, because it was elegantly decorated. I was sure my mother would have thought the decor irreverent, for although the white and gold were lovely, the angels looked more voluptuous than holy.

The Dauphin and I knelt on the red velvet edged with gold fringe and the Grand Almoner of France, Monseigneur de la Roche-Aymon, came forward to perform the ceremony

My bridegroom appeared to be growing more and more bored; he fumbled as he put the ring on my finger and I thought he was going to drop the pieces of gold, blessed by the Grand Almoner, which he presented to me as part of-the ceremony.

So we were married. The Archbishop gave us his blessing;

Mass followed; then the organ pealed out and the marriage contract was handed to the King for his signature. After the Dauphin signed his name, it was my turn. As I took the pen my hand was trembling and I wrote my name in an untidy scrawl: Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne. A jet of ink shot on to the paper and I felt that everyone was staring at the blot I had made.

Later this too became an ‘omen. ” If blots were omens I had been scattering them rather freely over my exercises for many years. But this was different. This was my marriage contract.

One would have thought that that was enough ceremony for one day. But no! I was now in truth Dauphine of France, and Madame de Noailles conducted me to my apartments, where my first duty was to receive the members of my household and accept the oath of fidelity. So many of them:

my ladies-in-waiting, my first maitre d’hotel, my almoner, my equerries, my doctors—I even had apothecaries and surgeons—two of the former and four of the latter; although why I, who was in perfect health, should need so many I could not imagine. I had a clock maker and a tapestry-maker, as well as a wig-maker, who was also an attendant of the bath. It was wearying to consider how many people had assembled to wait on me—one hundred and sixty-eight persons were concerned with feeding me alone.

As I accepted the oaths of my cellar men master cooks, my butlers, panders and wine bearers I was half laughing half yawning because it all seemed so absurd. I did not know then that my attitude would be resented. I did not understand the French at all. I was to offend so many before I realised the mistakes I made in those early days—and when I did understand, much damage had been done. What might have been obvious to a wiser person was hidden from me; and that was that this etiquette which I had seen so rigorously regarded in higher circles was carried right through to humbler strata. My attitude of lege rete towards them and their customs was regarded with as much dismay as Madame de Noailles herself had shown me.

I was really longing for it to be over because the next activity was the opening of the King’s wedding present, and having already been made aware of the King’s generosity, my expectations were high. Nor was I disappointed. The King’s present was a toilet set in blue enamel, a needle-case, a box and a fan, all set with diamonds. How I loved those cold stones which could suddenly flash with red, green and blue fire!

I picked up the needle-case and said: “My first task shall be to make something for the King. I will embroider him a waistcoat.”

Madame de Noailles reminded me that I should have to ask His Majesty’s permission first. I laughed at that and said that it was to be a surprise. Then I added that it would take me years to finish it so perhaps I had better tell him what I was doing or he would not know of my gratitude and my plan to use his exquisite present.

She looked exasperated. Poor old Madame de Noailles! I had already christened her Madame ”Etiquette, and when I mentioned this to one of my women she had laughed aloud. I was pleased and made up my mind that I was going to make fun of their etiquette whenever I had an opportunity to do so, because it was the only way I could endure it.

The King had also given me various beautifully-wrought articles for my entourage, and while I was admiring these I heard a rumble of thunder.

The brilliant sky had become overcast and I immediately thought of all the poor people whom I had seen on the road from Paris to Versailles and who had come to see the wedding celebrations, for there was to have been a firework display for them as soon as it was dusk; and now, I thought, it is going to rain and it will all be spoilt.

During the storm I was given a little insight into the peculiarities of the aunts. As I went into my apartment I saw’ Madame Sophie talking to one of my women eagerly and in the most friendly fashion. This was strange, because when I had been presented to her she had scarcely spoken to me and I had heard that she rarely uttered a word and that some of her servants had never heard her speak. Yet there i she was, talking intimately to the poor woman, who seemed , quite bewildered and uncertain how to act. As I came forward Madame Sophie took the woman’s hands and squeezed them tenderly. When she saw me she cried, how was I? how did I feel? was I fatigued? There was going ; to be a horrid storm and she hated them. The words came tumbling out. Just then a clap of thunder seemed to shake the palace and Sophie put her arms “bout the woman to whom she had been talking so affectionately and embraced her. It was a most extraordinary scene.

It was Madame Campan who told me later that Madame Sophie was terrified of thunderstorms and when they came her entire personality changed. Instead of walking everywhere at great speed, leering at everyone from side to side—’like a hare,” Madame Campan described it—in order to recognise people without looking at them, she talked to everyone, even the humblest, squeezing their hands and even embracing them when her terror was at its greatest pitch. I was to learn a great deal about my aunts, but like everything else, I learned it too late.

As soon as the storm was over, Sophie behaved as before, speaking to no one, running through the apartments in her odd way. Madame Campan, in whom Aunt Victoire had confided freely over many years, told me that Victoire and Sophie had undergone such terrors in the Abbey of Fontevrault, to which they had been sent as children to be educated, that it had made them very nervous and they retained this nervousness even in maturity. They had been shut in the vaults where the nuns were buried and left there to pray, as a penance; and on one occasion they had been sent to the chapel to pray for one of the gardeners who had gone raving mad. His cottage was next to the chapel, and while they were there alone praying, they had to listen to his bloodcurdling screams.

“We have been given TO paroxysms of terror ever since,” Madame Victoire explained.

Although the thunder died away, the rain continued, and as I had feared, the people of Paris who had come to Versailles to see the fireworks were disappointed. There would be no firework display in such weather. Another bad omen!

In the Galerie des Glaces the King was holding a reception and there we were all assembled. The magnificence of the Galerie on that occasion was breathtaking; later I became accustomed to its splendour.

I remember the candelabra-gilded and glittering—each of which carried thirty candles so that in spite of the darkness it was as light as day. With the King, my husband and I sat at a table which was covered with green velvet and decorated with gold braid and fringe, and we played cavagnole which fortunately, with great fore sight, I had been taught to play, and I could play this silly sort of game far better than I could write. The King and I smiled at each other over the table while the Dauphin sat sullenly playing as though he despised the game which of course he did. While we played, people filed past to watch us, and I wondered whether we ought to smile at them, but as the King behaved as though they did not exist I took my cue from him. There were among the spectators several uninvited guests, for only those who had received special invitations should have been there, but some of those who had not been driven home by the storm, deter mined to compensate themselves for the loss of the firework display, broke the barriers and forced their way in to mingle with the guests. The ushers and guards found it quite impossible to restrain them, and as no one wanted any unfortunate displays of anger on this occasion, nothing was done.

When the reception in the Galerie des Glaces was over we went for supper to the new opera house which the King had had built to celebrate my arrival in France. As we crossed to the opera house the Swiss Guards, splendid in starched ruffs and plumed caps, together with the bodyguards, equally colourful in their silver-braided coats, red breeches and stockings, made a guard for us.

The real function of this beautiful opera house had been of disguised.

A false floor had been set up to cover the seats, and on this was a table decorated with flowers and gleaming glass. With great ceremony we took our places: the King at the head of the table, myself on one side of him, my husband on the other, and next to me and for this I was thankful my mischievous younger brother-in-law, the Comte d’Artois, who was very attentive to me and proclaimed him-J self to be my squire, implying in his outrageous way that he would uphold the honour of France in the place of the Dauphin at any rime I wished! He was bold, but I had liked him from the moment we met.

On the other side of Artois was Madame Adelaide, clearly revelling in an occasion like this, keeping an eye on her sisters—Sophie next to her, Victoire opposite, next to Clothilde—and trying to talk to me over Artois, her sharp eyes everywhere. She hoped that she and I would be able to talk together in her apartments, intimately. It was imperative. Artois, listening, raised his eyebrows to me when Adelaide could not see, and I felt that we were allies. At the extreme end of the table—for she was of the lowest rank of the twenty-one members of the royal family—was the young woman who had interested me so much when I had first been presented to my new relations: the Princesse de Lamballe. She smiled at me very charmingly and I felt that with her and the King and my new champion Artois as my friends I need not be apprehensive about my future.

I was far too excited to eat, but I noticed that my husband had a good appetite. I had never known anyone who could appear so oblivious of his surroundings. While the King’s Meat (as the numerous dishes were called) was being brought in with the utmost ceremony he might have been sitting alone, for his one interest was the food, on which he fell as though he had just returned from a hard day’s hunting.

Noticing his grandson’s voracious appetite the King said to him quite audibly: “You are eating too heartily. Berry. You should not overload your stomach tonight of all nights.”

My husband spoke then, and everyone listened—I suppose because they heard his voice so rarely.

“I always sleep better after a good supper,” he said.

I was aware of Artois beside me suppressing his amusement, and many of the guests seemed suddenly intent on their plates; others had turned and were in deep conversation with then-neighbours, faces turned away from the head of the table.

The King looked at me rather sadly; then he began to talk over the Dauphin to the Comte de Provence.

The next part of the proceedings was so embarrassing that even now I do not care to think about it. The night had come. When I looked across the table and caught my husband’s eye he looked uneasy and turned away. I knew then that he was as disturbed as I was. I was aware of what was expected of me that night, and although I did not look for ward to it with any great pleasure, I was certain that, how ever distasteful it was, the result of what would happen would give me my dearest wish. I should have a child and any discomfort was worthwhile if I could become a mother.

Back to the Palace we went and the ceremony of putting the bride and groom to bed began. The Duchess de dart res the married lady of highest rank, handed me my nightgown; and I was led to the bedchamber where my husband, who had been helped into his nightshirt by the King, was waiting for me. We sat up in bed side by side, and all the time my husband had not looked at me. I was not sure whether he thought the whole affair incredibly silly or was just sleepy after all the food he had eaten.

The curtains were drawn back so that everyone could see us and the Archbishop of Rheims as he blessed the bed and sprinkled it with holy water. We must have appeared to be a strange little couple both so young, little more than children: myself flushed and apprehensive, my husband bored. In truth we were two frightened children.

The King smiled at me wistfully as though he longed to be in the Dauphin’s place, and then turned away to leave us together. Everyone bowed and followed him out and my attendants drew the bed curtains shutting me in alone with my bridegroom.

We lay in bed looking at the hangings. I felt lonely shut in with a stranger. He did not attempt to touch me; he did not even speak to me. There I lay listening to my heartbeats or were they his waiting . waiting.

This was what all the fuss of preparation had been about the solemn ceremony in the chapel, the glittering banquet, the public’s peepshow. I was to be the mother of the Enfants de France; from my activities in this bed I was to produce the future King of France.

But nothing happened . nothing. I lay awake. It must be soon, I said to myself; but still I lay and so did he . in silence, making no move to touch me, speaking no word.

After a long while I could tell by his breathing that he was asleep.

I was bewildered, and, in a way, disappointed. I know now that he suffered even as I did. The next day he wrote one word in his journal. It was “Rien.”