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
