The marriage which was thus accomplished was regarded with unmodified
pleasure by the family of the bride, and with almost equal satisfaction by
the French king. In spite of the public rejoicings in both countries with
which it was accompanied, it can not be said to have been equally
acceptable to the majority of the people of either nation. There was still
a strong anti-French party at Vienna,[1] and (a circumstance of far
greater influence on the fortunes of the young couple) there was a strong
anti-Austrian party in France, which was not without its supporters even
in the king's palace. That the marriage should have been so earnestly
desired at the imperial court is a strange instance of the extent to which
political motives overpowered every other consideration in the mind of the
great Empress-queen, for she was not ignorant of the real character of the
French court, of the degree in which it was divided by factions, of the
base and unworthy intrigues which were its sole business, and of the
sagacity and address which were requisite for any one who would steer his
way with safety and honor through its complicated mazes.

Judgment and prudence were not the qualities most naturally to be expected
in a young princess not yet fifteen years old. The best prospect which
Marie Antoinette had of surmounting the numerous and varied difficulties
which beset her lay in the affection which she speedily conceived for her
husband, and in the sincerity, we can hardly say warmth, with which he
returned her love. Maria Teresa had bespoken his tenderness for her in a
letter which she wrote to him on the day on which her daughter left
Vienna, and which has often been quoted as a composition worthy of her
alike as a mother and as a Christian sovereign; and as admirably
calculated to impress the heart of her new son-in-law by claiming his
attachment for his bride, on the ground of the pains which she had taken