On the twenty-second of December, King Ferdinand’s minister, Count Ludolff, arrived in Munich with a formal proposal of marriage, and after receiving the young princess’s consent, presented her on a velvet cushion a portrait of her future husband, a rather pleasant-looking young man in the uniform of a hussar. Two weeks later the marriage took place by proxy, as was the custom of the time. On the evening of the eighth of January, 1859, Maria Sophia Amalia, Duchess in Bavaria, was solemnly united in wedlock to Francis Maria Leopold, Duke of Calabria and Crown Prince of the Two Sicilies, in the court chapel at Munich. All the members of the royal house were present with the entire diplomatic corps and many nobles and high officials of the State. King Maximilian and Queen Marie led the bride to the altar, where the bridegroom’s brother, Prince Leopold (the present Regent of Bavaria), represented him in his absence. Following this ceremony the King and Queen held a reception, during which crowds gathered outside the palace windows, eager for a glimpse of the little bride who had gone about among them all her life so gayly and familiarly. On the thirteenth of January, Maria left her parents’ home with many tears and embraces for the dear ones she was leaving behind. She had never seen her husband nor any member of his family. Both the land and people that were to be hers in future were strange to her—an uncertain fate, indeed, to look forward to! But she was young and light-hearted, full of hope and courage, and well equipped by nature for the trials that awaited her. Her brother Ludwig, with several Bavarian ladies and gentlemen, accompanied her on the journey, besides a Neapolitan court lady, Nina Rizzo, sent by the Queen of Naples to instruct her in her new duties. At Vienna a stay of several days was made, owing to news of King Ferdinand’s illness; but on the thirtieth of January the party resumed its way with the addition of the Empress Elizabeth, and on the following day reached Trieste, where they were met by the Duke of Serracapriola, sent by the King to welcome the future Queen of Naples. This pompous personage discharged his errand with such ceremonious solemnity that the simple, unaffected Bavarian princess knew not whether to laugh or cry.