1770
Enns, Austria, Castle of Prince Auersperg
It is cold and rainy and this castle seems to me inadequately heated. I have asked Trautie how we are expected to dress for the Prince’s banquet if it is this cold in the banquet hall. Thank goodness Trautie is so no-nonsense. She says that she plans to wear flannel unders and I can do as I please. This is what I love about Trautie. She never tells one what to do. She leads by firm example.
Our first night was spent at Melk in an abbey. My brother Joseph accompanied us this far. There was an opera performed by the monastery’s singing students. They were terrible. It just shows that what Mama says is true — if one removes to anywhere outside of the circumference of Vienna, the music worsens. The farther one travels away from Vienna, the worse the music gets.
The coach we ride in — the Berlin — is as wonderful as described. In fact, Trautie said that tonight we might be more comfortable in the Berlin than in this cold stone room of the castle. I plan to have Schnitzy sleep under the covers with me. I certainly don’t want him catching cold. He is all I can carry with me over the border from my old life.
April 25, 1770
Alt Ettingen, Bavaria
It is amazing, the sameness of the days. I feel inadequate to the journey, for I am easily bored when I look out the window of the Berlin as we pass through the countryside or through the small villages where people come out to wave and cheer. Mama would be so enthralled, for this is her kingdom and there is not a corner of it that does not interest her. Indeed, we are passing through all of the little states that form the Empire. We are now in that part called the Holy Roman German Empire, but it is still under the rule of Mama and Joseph.
We are coming close to Munich now and there are many festivities planned for my stay. The Elector of Bavaria lives there and is one of the richest men in all of Europe. His shooting lodge at Amalienburg and his gardens are supposed to be extraordinary. We sent news back to Vienna by courier. I have prepared letters for Mama and for Elizabeth and Ferdinand. It was very difficult for me to write Elizabeth. I realized that I have not talked much of the good-byes I had to bid when we left. It is simply too painful, but to say good-bye to Elizabeth was the worst. I feel a cold coming on.
April 28, 1770
Augsburg, Germany
We all have terrible colds. No wonder! It has done nothing but rain since we left Vienna. My aunt Charlotte, my father’s sister, whom I have never met, shall receive me tomorrow at the abbey of Günsburg, where she is the Abbess.
April 29, 1770
I am so happy to be here and because we all have colds we are to stay a few days longer. My aunt Charlotte is the most wonderful woman. I can so easily see the traces of my dear father’s face in hers. She is the perfect blend of quiet jolliness and tenderness. I wish I could stay here forever. She runs the abbey with a gentle efficiency and it is a lovely abbey, for Augsburg is one of the richest cities in the Empire.
May 1, 1770
My days with Aunt Charlotte seemed charmed. She has taught me a new embroidery stitch, and we sit in her cozy quarters sipping tea and I tell her about all of her nieces and nephews. She laughed so hard when I told her about how Ferdinand put the frog in my dessert. Then she told me many funny stories about father and when they were growing up in Lorraine. She promises tomorrow, if my cold is much better, to take me to the edge of the meadow beyond the abbey, near the forest where the wild asparagus grows. She says it is the most delicious thing that God ever let grow on earth. I can’t wait. But I must admit that I fear it could be spoiled if Count Mercy or Ambassador Durfort insist that the usual entourage accompany us.
May 2, 1770
Oh, it is late, but I must write about Aunt Charlotte’s and my wonderful day. It began with quiet words between Aunt Charlotte and yes, as you might guess, Count Mercy and Durfort.
Enns, Austria, Castle of Prince Auersperg
It is cold and rainy and this castle seems to me inadequately heated. I have asked Trautie how we are expected to dress for the Prince’s banquet if it is this cold in the banquet hall. Thank goodness Trautie is so no-nonsense. She says that she plans to wear flannel unders and I can do as I please. This is what I love about Trautie. She never tells one what to do. She leads by firm example.
Our first night was spent at Melk in an abbey. My brother Joseph accompanied us this far. There was an opera performed by the monastery’s singing students. They were terrible. It just shows that what Mama says is true — if one removes to anywhere outside of the circumference of Vienna, the music worsens. The farther one travels away from Vienna, the worse the music gets.
The coach we ride in — the Berlin — is as wonderful as described. In fact, Trautie said that tonight we might be more comfortable in the Berlin than in this cold stone room of the castle. I plan to have Schnitzy sleep under the covers with me. I certainly don’t want him catching cold. He is all I can carry with me over the border from my old life.
April 25, 1770
Alt Ettingen, Bavaria
It is amazing, the sameness of the days. I feel inadequate to the journey, for I am easily bored when I look out the window of the Berlin as we pass through the countryside or through the small villages where people come out to wave and cheer. Mama would be so enthralled, for this is her kingdom and there is not a corner of it that does not interest her. Indeed, we are passing through all of the little states that form the Empire. We are now in that part called the Holy Roman German Empire, but it is still under the rule of Mama and Joseph.
We are coming close to Munich now and there are many festivities planned for my stay. The Elector of Bavaria lives there and is one of the richest men in all of Europe. His shooting lodge at Amalienburg and his gardens are supposed to be extraordinary. We sent news back to Vienna by courier. I have prepared letters for Mama and for Elizabeth and Ferdinand. It was very difficult for me to write Elizabeth. I realized that I have not talked much of the good-byes I had to bid when we left. It is simply too painful, but to say good-bye to Elizabeth was the worst. I feel a cold coming on.
April 28, 1770
Augsburg, Germany
We all have terrible colds. No wonder! It has done nothing but rain since we left Vienna. My aunt Charlotte, my father’s sister, whom I have never met, shall receive me tomorrow at the abbey of Günsburg, where she is the Abbess.
April 29, 1770
I am so happy to be here and because we all have colds we are to stay a few days longer. My aunt Charlotte is the most wonderful woman. I can so easily see the traces of my dear father’s face in hers. She is the perfect blend of quiet jolliness and tenderness. I wish I could stay here forever. She runs the abbey with a gentle efficiency and it is a lovely abbey, for Augsburg is one of the richest cities in the Empire.
May 1, 1770
My days with Aunt Charlotte seemed charmed. She has taught me a new embroidery stitch, and we sit in her cozy quarters sipping tea and I tell her about all of her nieces and nephews. She laughed so hard when I told her about how Ferdinand put the frog in my dessert. Then she told me many funny stories about father and when they were growing up in Lorraine. She promises tomorrow, if my cold is much better, to take me to the edge of the meadow beyond the abbey, near the forest where the wild asparagus grows. She says it is the most delicious thing that God ever let grow on earth. I can’t wait. But I must admit that I fear it could be spoiled if Count Mercy or Ambassador Durfort insist that the usual entourage accompany us.
May 2, 1770
Oh, it is late, but I must write about Aunt Charlotte’s and my wonderful day. It began with quiet words between Aunt Charlotte and yes, as you might guess, Count Mercy and Durfort.
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