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.
