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 scrawclass="underline" 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.