A banquet must be prepared for her – at least a banquet such as they could afford and could be served in such a small house.
Madame de Prie arrived, gracious and charming, yet determined that they should not for one moment lose sight of her importance.
She took in each detail of Marie’s appearance. It was true, thought Madame de Prie with pleasure, that she was no beauty. She was without elegance; by no means the sort of woman to rule through her personal charms. She seemed overwhelmed by her good fortune and fully aware that she owed it in a large measure to Madame de Prie.
The scheming woman could not have found anyone more to her taste.
She embraced Marie, not with the respect due to the Queen of France, but with a certain benevolent affection which she might have shown to a protégée.
‘I have brought presents from the Duc de Bourbon for you and your parents,’ she told Marie. ‘I could not resist bringing something for you myself, and I believe I know what will appeal to you most and what you doubtless need. Allow me to show you.’
Imperiously Madame de Prie ordered the cases to be brought into the room, and when they were opened she took out gossamer undergarments and silk stockings so fine that Marie gasped in astonishment.
‘They are for you,’ said Madame de Prie, taking Marie in her arms and kissing her.
‘I thank you with all my heart!’ cried Marie. ‘I have never before seen such beautiful things.’
Madame de Prie laughed with pleasure. She was thinking of the future – with herself supreme – for the Queen of France would remember to whom she owed her position and be for ever grateful to the all-powerful Madame de Prie.
Stanislas, no less than Madame de Prie, the Duc de Bourbon and Fleury, was eager that there should be no delay. Delays could be dangerous, particularly in view of the mood of the Parisians towards the ‘Demoiselle’ whom they did not think good enough for their handsome little King.
On the 15th of August the marriage was celebrated at Strasbourg by the Cardinal de Rohan, Bishop of Strasbourg, with the young Duc d’Orléans, as first Prince of the Blood Royal, to stand proxy for Louis.
The delight of Stanislas was not unmixed with apprehension. It had not been easy for him to muster a court worthy of the occasion, although now that arrangements had gone so far he found new friends to rally to his side. But the energetic Madame de Prie was at hand and, since she was determined that the marriage should take place without a hitch, it did so. All the nobility of Alsace came to the rescue, sending their sons as pages or to fill any role for which they were needed. The Duc d’Antin gave dignity to the exiled court by appearing as Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of France, and Stanislas gave similar rank to a member of his household, so that diplomatic dignity was preserved.
Marie, dressed as she had never been dressed before, in a gown of green brocade beautifully embroidered and trimmed with silver lace, looked pleasant and certainly not in the least like the deformed creature whom the people of Paris believed her to be.
She felt dazed with the wonder of all this as she entered the church, her father and mother on either side of her, the Duc d’Orléans, her bridegroom by proxy, going on ahead with the two ambassadors.
It was difficult for her to believe, when that ceremony was over, when the Te Deum had been sung and the cannons had roared, that she was the Queen of France.
She dined in public, served by the King’s officers at the Hôtel de Ville, and there was dancing in the streets, where free bread and wine were provided for all.
She felt bewildered and very apprehensive, for although all these great noblemen and the people of Strasbourg acclaimed her and called her Queen, she had yet to face the people of Paris and her husband.
There was little time for contemplation, as two days after the ceremony in Strasbourg the journey to Fontainebleau began.
As soon as the procession set out the rain began to fall. Marie sat in the royal coach looking out on the fields in which the precious corn was being ruined, while the Duc d’Orléans with his entourage rode ahead that he might receive her in the towns through which they passed. The carriage of the Duc de Noailles went before her followed by the pages on horseback, and the Guards rode beside the royal coach; behind them came the carriages of noble men and women who had come to Strasbourg to attend the wedding. The procession was two miles long, including the service waggons.
The people of the countryside came out to cheer the Queen as she passed through it. They threw flowers at her carriage, and she saw that they had hung out flags even in the smallest villages. In spite of the evil weather they determined to give her a good welcome.
It seemed to her that the people at least were glad to see her, but she herself was horrified by the signs of poverty which she glimpsed in those villages. When she noticed how thin and poorly clad the people were, she was glad the King had sent her fifteen thousand livres that she might distribute largesse on her passage through the country.
The progress was slow on account of the weather, and often the Queen’s carriage became bogged down in the mud. There were constant delays and often she heards news that disturbed her.
There was a shortage of bread and there had been riots, not only in Paris, but in the provinces, when the people had stormed the bakers’ shops for bread.
The names of the Duc de Bourbon and his mistress, Madame de Prie, were mentioned. It was said that they had taken advantage of the situation and become even richer by their speculations in grain to the detriment of the people.
Marie however, sympathetic as she was, could do no more than distribute her largesse, and before her journey was over she found her purse empty. But there was little room in her thoughts for anything else but her meeting with the King, for at last the procession was nearing Moret where Louis had arranged to meet her.
Louis was uneasy. He had been so eager to have a wife that perhaps he had consented too readily to accept this one. The words of the Parisians rang in his ears, for he had heard some of the songs which were being sung in the Paris streets.
The incessant rain was depressing. He had heard that the citizens were rioting in Paris. They did not blame him for their poverty; they blamed him for nothing, and wherever he went they cheered him. But they blamed the Duc de Bourbon and Madame de Prie, particularly the latter, who they declared was the First Minister’s evil genius.
Louis did not want to think of the people’s plight; he did not want to think of the people. Ever since Papa Villeroi had forced him to undergo so many public appearances he had fought shy of them.
Now he would think of his wife. If he did not like her he would ignore her, as he had heard de la Tremouille ignored his wife. He would let her know that he was the King and that if he was not pleased with his marriage it should be as though no marriage had taken place.
Humpbacked! Web-footed! It was alarming.
But there was no help for it now. He must go to Moret and meet her.
She was late arriving. News was brought to him that her carriage was stuck in the mud and that thirty horses had had to be attached to it to drag it out.
They were putting a carpet over the mud where her carriage would stop and he was waiting to greet her. And here was the carriage, and here was she.
His eager eyes took in every detail of her appearance as she stepped out of the carriage.