Free Mozart's Sister by Nancy Moser

counted
them) huge mirrors that matched the arched windows across the
room. There was so much gold in the statues and the candelabrassome taller than Papa-that it couldn't possibly be real, could it?
Surely the riches of heaven couldn't match this palace. Yet Papa did
a lot of shaking his head at the opulence. He said the bulk of
France's wealth was divided amongst a hundred persons. That didn't
sound very fair. If I were French, it would make me angry.
    The extravagant appearance of the people who attended our
concerts competed with the architecture. The women's dresses were
made of yards and yards of silk and brocade and were very wide,
forcing the women to walk sideways through many of the doorways.
The dresses were edged with metal lace that glistened. There were
three or four layers of lace at the elbow, and matching silk shoes with
jeweled buckles. The men's fashions were just as lavish, with matching suits adorned by wide cuffs, vests heavy with trim, and shirts
ruffled at both the neck and wrist.

    Then there were the wigs. Why everyone wanted to have gray
or white hair, I wasn't sure, but they did. Even Wolfie and I had
wigs that had to be powdered. I liked the lavender-scented powder,
but the whole process made quite a mess. Wolfie's and Papa's wigs
had rows of curls on the side, and the ponytail was contained in a
velvet bag tied with a bow. Some women had birds and flowers in
their wigs, or a funny little hat. My wig wasn't as tall as some, but it
did add to my height and forced me to hold my head erect. I wondered if the wig was wise. It made me look older, and the audiences
seemed to like that we were so young. I was torn between wanting
to look young to please them and wanting to look like a grown
woman to please myself. I was nearly a woman. I was twelve and a
half.
    As for the outdoor clothes worn at Versailles? When the warm
December days turned, the courtiers wore fur-trimmed garments
with neckties of fur. Instead of flowers they put fur in their hair and
had fur armlets ... fur everywhere. But the most ridiculous sight
was a type of sword scabbard which was bound with fur-an excellent idea, so the sword wouldn't catch cold?
    And yet, even amid all this elegance, the place smelled horrible.
There were not enough latrines, and I actually saw a stately man
relieving himself in the corner of a fine hall. They called us Germans
barbarians? And mixed with the horrid stench and the smell of nervous perspiration that was imbedded in the heavy clothes was the
heady smell of perfume. I had a little pocket sewn into my corset
for a sachet (I loved the smell of orange), but the perfumes in the
court were so strong I often found my eyes watering-though I
wasn't completely sure which odor was the culprit.
    We played concerts before the king and queen and all their children. The queen, Marie Leszczinska, was Polish and spoke German
with us, even translating for the king. She was very fat, and Mama
heard a rumor that one time she consumed one hundred eighty
oysters with two quarts of beer in one sitting. She smiled a lot, and
Wolfie chattered with her for a long time. She passed delicious food
to us from her plate as we stood with the other courtiers behind the
king and queen's eating table.
    The young princesses loved us and gave us many hugs and kisses, cooing at us in French we did not understand. Even the queen
embraced us. People paused in galleries and apartments to greet us,
and the English and the Russian ambassadors sought us out. Papa
said Wolfie bewitched almost everyone when he played the organ
in the chapel.

    And the presents! Snuff boxes, writing cases, silver pens, and a
toothpick case of solid gold. What were we to do with all the snuff
boxes? And yet the gifts did make me feel special.
    There was one very important difference in the women at Versailles compared to the Austrian women I knew: they wore paint on
their faces-as did some of the men. Lots and lots