In 1774, four years after the marriage of Marie Antoinette to the Dauphin, Louis XV was taken ill of smallpox during a sojourn at the Little Trianon, and was removed to Versailles.  Within a fortnight he was dead, and a scandalous reign was ended.  “The rush of the courtiers, with a noise like thunder, as they hastened to pay homage to the new sovereign,” says a narrator of the Queen’s story, “was the first announcement of the great event to the young heir and his wife.”  The new King had not yet reached his twentieth year.  “God help and protect us!” they both cried on their knees.  “We are too young to reign!”

As Queen of France, Marie Antoinette occupied a series of superbly appointed rooms in the left wing of the palace.  Beyond a dark passageway were her husband’s apartments.  Her bed-chamber was the scene of the formal toilet, a ceremony always irksome to the youthful sovereign.  In this sumptuous room, where queens had borne kings-to-be, and had closed their eyes forever upon a melancholy existence, she gave birth to four children.  The royal bed was raised on steps and surrounded by a gilt balustrade; nearby was a gorgeously fitted dressing-table.  There were also armchairs, we are told, with down cushions, “tables for writing, and two chests of drawers of elaborate workmanship.  The curtains and hangings were of rich but plain blue silk.  The stools for those that had the privilege of being seated in the royal presence, with a sofa for the Queen’s use, were placed against the walls, according to the formal custom of the time.  The canopy of the bed was adorned with Cupids playing with garlands and holding gilt lilies, the royal flower.”

Other rooms prepared for the Queen faced an inner court, and here with music, small talk and embroidery she spent contented moments, remote from the demands of her high estate.

Usually the mistress of Versailles was wakened at eight o’clock by a lady of the bedchamber, whose first duty it was to proffer a ponderous volume containing samples of the dresses that were in the royal wardrobe.  Marie Antoinette marked with pins, taken from an embroidered cushion, the costumes she wished to put on for the various events of the day—­the brocaded and hooped Court dress for the morning mass, the negligee to be worn during leisure hours in her own living rooms, and the gown to be donned for evening festivities.  These vital matters determined, the Queen proceeded with her bath and her breakfast of chocolate and rolls.  She was accustomed then to return to bed, and, with her tapestry-work in hand, receive various persons attached to her service.  Physicians, reader, secretary, came to ask her wishes and do her bidding.  At noon followed the “rising,” and the stately progress of the Queen and her attendants through the Salon of Peace to the dazzling Hall of Mirrors, where the King awaited her on his way to chapel.  Often at this hour there were admitted to the Grand Gallery of Mirrors respectful groups of commoners, who gathered to watch the passing of the gracious Marie Antoinette beside the husband whose uncouth gait and features were ever in forbidding contrast to her own comely bearing.