The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette Read Online Free PDF

Louis going back three hundred years and the significant events of his ancestors’ reigns.
    I know the names of most of the French provinces and can locate them on a map of France that hangs on the wall beside my bed. I can tell the story of Jeanne d’Arc, of the saintly King Louis IX and the cynical King Henry IV, who said “Paris is worth a mass,” and became a Catholic though he was a Protestant before. I know that the River Seine runs through Paris and that the great cathedral in the city is called Notre Dame, Our Lady.
    Soon I will see it all for myself.
    March 21, 1770
    Eric has sent me a gift, a little dog. I call her Mufti. She is so small she fits inside my sleeve.
    April 1, 1770
    Tonight was my wedding. Instead of a groom I had my brother Ferdinand who stood beside me in the candlelitchurch and recited the vows that Prince Louis will recite when I get to France.
    All the court was present at the ceremony, which was very beautiful and solemn. Mother took me down the aisle, limping on her sore leg which has been hurting her since Christmas but happy nonetheless. I had a beautiful silver gown and wore a long lace veil sent from one of Prince Louis’s aunts. It was to have been her wedding veil but she never married. I wonder why.
    Mother says I can take Lysander and Mufti to France with me. April 6, 1770
    This afternoon I had a sad visit with mother who summoned me to talk to her about my new life in France.
    She rose from her desk, smiling, and kissed me when I came into her private study. As usual her desk was piled with papers. Her old yellow cat slept between two of the piles, on a length of soft wool she keeps there for his comfort.
    I was suddenly overcome with sorrow, and could not help crying. I embraced mother and smelled her rosewater scent.
    “Oh, maman, I can’t bear to leave you! How I will miss you. Now I know how Carlotta felt when she left, why she cried herself to sleep so many nights.”
    Mother led me to the wide bow window and we sat together looking out at the garden. The earliest roses were just beginning to bloom, red and pink and yellow, and the fruit trees were almost in full leaf.
    “I know what you are feeling, Antonia,” mother said at length. “When I married I had to leave behind much that was familiar. It was a step into the unknown.”
    She reached for my hand and held it in her lap as she talked, occasionally patting it absentmindedly. It was unlikeher to do this, and I knew it meant that she was allowing herself to show how much she loved me. It was only because I was leaving that she unbent this way, I was sure. Usually she stayed strong, and affectionately detached.
    “You must remember three things, my dearest child. Go to mass regularly, always do as the French do, no matter how outlandish their customs seem, and make no decisions without asking advice.”
    “Whose advice, maman? Prince Louis’s?”
    Her mouth turned down and for a moment a troubled look came into her eyes.
    “The prince is still young, as you are. He is not yet—seasoned. Ask the Duc de Choiseul, or Count Mercy, or one of the Austrians. Kaunitz will give you some names of those he trusts at the French court before you leave.”
    “Oh and be careful whom you speak to in confidence, among the servants. Many are paid informants.”
    “I will speak only to Sophie.”
    Mother sighed and patted my hand.
    “You will overcome any obstacles you encounter, Antonia. You have a good heart, and stout Hapsburg courage. Never forget who you are and whose blood runs in your veins. Be proud. And try, for all our sakes, to be prudent.”
    “I will, maman. Truly I will.”
    After I left mother I went out for a walk, to take a last look at things I have loved. I went out into the pasture beyond the dairy and smelled the scent of the rich loamy earth. I visited the old riding school and said a prayer for the soul of Josepha, trying in vain not to picture her as she lay, grotesque in her pain, on her deathbed. I