It had stormed all night, but the sea now lay calm and smiling as if in welcome, and it seemed to Maria that she had never seen such a wonderful blue before. As they drew near the beautiful harbor with the town of Bari beyond, bathed in Italian sunshine, she was so absorbed in the enchanting scene that at first she did not notice the approaching launch. Suddenly she caught sight of Francis standing up in the craft in his gay hussar uniform, and her face lit up with a joyous smile. She recognized him at once from his portrait and found him more agreeable-looking than she had expected. Advancing to the side of the vessel to meet him as he came aboard, she held out her hand with charming impulsiveness and said, “Bonjour, François!”
“Bonjour, Marie!” replied the Prince, shyly taking both her hands in his and kissing her on the forehead. The Queen then embraced the young girl and presented her to the princesses, Maria inquiring solicitously for the King and expressing her regret at his absence. She then asked with great interest about the coast, the town they were approaching, the vessels in the harbor, and all the new sights and scenes about her. The young bridegroom, meanwhile, stood silent and embarrassed beside his stepmother, so overcome with the emotion of meeting his bride and finding her even more fascinating than he had dared to imagine, that he was more shy and awkward than usual and could only stammer a few disjointed words in answer to her questions.
At the landing they were met by the assembled officials and escorted to the pavilion, where the royal party entered their coaches and drove back to the palace. Maria’s beauty and girlish charm won instant favor. A storm of cheers greeted her entrance into the new land; and even after she had disappeared within the palace, the enthusiastic Italians continued to shout till she was obliged to come out and show herself once more on a balcony. The Crown Princess had scarcely time, however, to acknowledge the people’s homage, before she was summoned to the King’s bedside. She found him sitting up to greet her, his face deeply lined with suffering. With all a father’s tenderness, Ferdinand embraced his new daughter-in-law, shedding tears at this sorrowful meeting, so different from what he had hoped for, while Maria also wept and returned the embrace warmly. It was the first time in this foreign land that she had been welcomed with anything like the affection to which she had been accustomed at home, and she felt drawn at once to her dying father-in-law, who had taken her into his heart at their very first meeting, realizing with pity how thickly strewn with thorns must be the path in life of this fair young creature who seemed made only for joy and happiness. Maria had little time to dwell on this scene, however, for the Queen led her away almost immediately to her chamber, where Nina Rizzo exchanged her travelling suit for the white satin bridal robe, and placed on her luxuriant hair—a characteristic of all the Wittelsbach sisters—a wreath of orange blossoms with a magnificent lace veil which she had brought with her from home.
An altar had been erected in the banqueting hall, the walls of which were lined with pictures of the Madonna. Before the altar a throne with arm-chairs was placed for the princes and princesses. The bishops and distinguished guests had taken their places and the ceremony was about to begin, when an incident occurred that made it hard for those present to preserve their gravity. The Queen’s second son, Alphonso, Count of Caserta, who though eighteen years old was as wild and ungovernable as a schoolboy, had succeeded in fastening a long paper train to the uniform of one of the highest court officials, whose solemn air of unconsciousness only added to the humor of the situation. One of the court gentlemen, however, quietly managed to remove the ridiculous appendage, the victim remaining in blissful ignorance of the trick that had been played upon him.
MARIA SOPHIA
at the time of the accession
The young couple entered and took their places before the altar, where the bishop concluded the ceremony with a solemn address in Italian, invoking the blessing of God upon them. At the close of the Te Deum an orchestra struck up the National Hymn and a salvo of artillery announced to the waiting crowds without that the marriage was completed, while the bridal pair went at once to the King’s chamber to receive his paternal blessing. That evening the whole town was brilliantly illuminated, and the square before the palace was filled with cheering throngs far into the night; but in spite of these demonstrations there was much secret uneasiness as to the King’s condition. The excitement of the wedding had had a bad effect on Ferdinand; though he did all in his power to conceal his sufferings, and the royal family seemed quite unaware of the alarming nature of his illness.
When the Count of Caserta’s mischievous prank reached the ears of the King, he sent for that youth and administered a sharp rebuke, declaring such a performance could only have been expected of a street urchin. Three days’ confinement to his room was to be his punishment, but at the Queen’s intercession the sentence was somewhat lightened.
Chapter VII
A Strange Honeymoon
The early months of the married life of Francis and Maria Sophia were similar in many ways to those of Marie Antoinette and Louis the Sixteenth of France. Francis, like Louis, was awkward, timid, and doubtful of himself. Although brought up in the land of art and beauty, he had no taste for such things. Like the King of France, he was honest, just, and deeply religious, but weak and irresolute, and conspicuously lacking in those qualities naturally looked for in princes of royal lineage.