CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
PRINCE LOUIS DE ROHAN.
The cardinal prince, Louis de Rohan, French ambassador at Vienna, had petitioned the empress for a private audience, and the honor had been granted him. It was the first time, since a year, that he had enjoyed this privilege; and the proud prince had determined that all Vienna should know it, for all Vienna was fully aware of the empress's dislike to him.
Accompanied by a brilliant cortege, the prince set out for the palace. Six footmen stood behind his gilded carriage, while inside, seated upon cushions of white satin, the prince dispensed smiles to the women, and nods to the men who thronged the streets to get a glimpse of his magnificence. Four pages, in the Rohan livery, dispensed silver coin to the populace; while behind came four carriages, bearing eight noblemen of the proudest families in France, and four other carriages which bore the household of this haughty prince of church and realm. [Footnote: In the beginning of the year 1780, Prince de Rohan was made cardinal and grand almoner of France. Before that time, he had been Archbishop of Strasburg. "Memoires sur la Vie Privee de Marie Antoinette," vol. i., p. 47.]
The cortege moved slowly, and the people shouted. From every window, burgher's or nobleman's, handsome women greeted the handsome cardinal who was known to be a connoisseur in female beauty. The crowd outside followed him to the palace-gates, and when his carriage stopped, they shouted so vociferously, that the noise reached the ears of the empress; and so long, that their shouts had not ceased when the cardinal, leaving his brilliant suite, was ushered into the small reception-room where Maria Theresa awaited him.
She stood by the window, and half turned her head, as the prince, with profoundest salutations, came forward. She received his obsequious homage with a slight inclination of the head.
"Can your eminence tell me the meaning of this din?" asked she, curtly.
"I regret not to be able to do so, your majesty. I hear no din; I have heard nothing save the friendly greetings of your people, whose piety edifies my heart as a priest, and whose welcome is dear to me as a quasi subject of your majesty. For the mother of my future queen must allow me the right to consider myself almost as her subject."
"I would prefer that you considered yourself wholly the subject of my daughter; as I doubt whether she will ever find much loyalty in your heart, prince. But before we go further, pray inform me what means all this parade attendant upon the visit of the French ambassador here to-day? I am not aware that we are in the carnival; nor have I an unmarried daughter for whom any French prince can have sent you to propose. "
"Surely your majesty would not compare the follies of the carnival with the solemnity of an imperial betrothal," said the archbishop, deferentially.
"Be so good as not to evade my question. I ask why you came to the palace with a procession just fit to take its place in a carnival?"
"Because the day on which the mother of the dauphiness receives me, is a great festival for me. I have so long sued for an audience, that when it is granted me, I may well be allowed to celebrate it with the pomp which befits the honor conferred."
"And in such a style that all Vienna may know it, and the rumor of your audience reach the ears of the dauphiness herself."
"I cannot hope that the dauphiness takes interest enough in the French ambassador to care whether he be received at a foreign court or not," replied the cardinal, still in his most respectful tone. "I request you to come to the point," said Maria Theresa, impatiently. "Tell me, at once, why you have asked for an audience? What seeks the French ambassador of the empress of Austria?"
"Allow me to say that had I appeared to-day before your majesty as the French ambassador, I would have been accompanied by my attaches and received by your majesty in state. But your majesty is so gracious as to receive me in private. It follows, therefore, that the Cardinal de Rohan, the cousin of the dauphin, visits the imperial mother of the young dauphiness."
"In other words, you come hither to complain of the dauphiness-consort; again to renew the unpleasant topics which have been the cause of my repeated refusals to see you here."
"No, your majesty, no. I deem it my sacred duty to speak confidentially to the mother of the dauphiness."
"If the mother of the dauphiness-consort will listen," cried the proud empress, sharply emphasizing the word "consort."
"Pardon me, your majesty, the apparent oversight," said De ROhan, with a smile. "But as a prince of the church, it behooves me, above all things, to be truthful, and the Dauphiness of France is not yet dauphiness-consort. Your majesty knows that as well as I do."
"I know that my daughter's enemies and mine have succeeded so far in keeping herself and her husband asunder," said the empress bitterly.
"But the dauphiness possesses, in her beauty, worth, and sweetness, weapons wherewith to disarm her enemies, if she would but use them," said De Rohan, with a shrug. "Unhappily, she makes no attempt to disarm them."
"Come—say what you have to say without so much circumlocution," cried Maria Theresa, imperiously. "What new complaint have the French against my daughter?"
"Your majesty is the only person that can influence the proud spirit of the dauphiness. Marie Antoinette adores her mother, and your majesty's advice will have great weight with her."
"What advice shall I give her?"
"Advise her to give less occasion to her enemies to censure her levity and her contempt of conventional forms."
"Who dares accuse my daughter of levity?" said the empress, her eyes flashing with angry pride.
"Those who, in the corruption of their own hearts, mistake for wantonness that which is nothing more than the thoughtlessness of unsuspecting innocence."
"You are pleased to speak in riddles. I am Maria Theresa—not Oedipus. "
"I will speak intelligently," said De Rohan, with his everlasting smile. "There are many things, innocent in themselves, which do not appear so to worldly eyes. Innocence may be attractive in a cottage, but it is not so in a palace. An ordinary woman, even of rank, has the right, in the privacy of her own room, to indulge herself in childish sport; but your majesty's self cannot justify your daughter when I tell you that she is in the habit of playing wild games with the young ladies who have been selected as her companions."
"My poor little Antoinette!" exclaimed the empress, her eyes filling with compassionate tears. "Her enemies, who do not allow her to be a wife, might surely permit her to remain a child! I have heard before to-day, of the harmless diversions which she enjoys with her young sisters-in-law. If there were any sense of justice in France, you would understand that, to amuse half-grown girls, the dauphiness must herself play the child. But I know that she has been blamed for her natural gayety, poor darling; and I know that Madame de Marsan will never forgive her for feeling a sisterly interest in the education of the young princesses of France. [Footnote: Madame de Marsan was their governess.] I know that the saloons of Madame de Marsan are a hot-bed of gossip, and that every action of the dauphiness is there distorted into crime. [Footnote: "Memoires de Madame de Campan." vol. i., p. 65.] If my lord cardinal has nothing else to tell me it was scarcely worth his while to come to the palace in so pompous a manner, with such a solemn face."
"I did not come to your majesty to accuse the dauphiness, but to warn her, against her enemies; for unfortunately she HAS enemies at court. These enemies not only deride her private diversions, but, with affectation of outraged virtue, they speak of recreations, hitherto unheard of at the court of France."
"What recreations, pray?"
"The dauphiness, without the sanction of the king; indulges in private theatricals."
"Private theatricals! That must be an invention of her enemies."
"Pardon me, your majesty, it is the truth. The dauphiness and her married sisters-in-law take the female characters, and the brothers of the king the male. Sometimes Monsieur de Campan, the private secretary of the deceased queen, and his son, who fills the same office for the dauphiness, join the actors. The royal troupe give their entertainments in an empty entre-sol, to which the household have no access. The Count of Provence plays the jeune premier, but the Count d'Artois also is considered a good performer. I am told that the costumes of the princesses are magnificent, and their rivalry carried to the extreme."
The empress, affecting not to hear the last amiable remark, said "Who are the audience?"
"There is but one spectator, your majesty, the dauphin himself."
Maria Theresa's face lighted up at once, and she smiled.
The cardinal went on: "The aunts of the dauphin themselves are not admitted to their confidence, lest they might inform the king, and his majesty forbid the indecorous representations."
"I shall write to the dauphiness and advise her to give up these representations," said Maria Theresa, calmly, "not because they are indecorous, but because they are a pretext for her enemies. If she has the approbation of her husband, that of itself ought to suffice to the court; for it is not an unheard thing to have dramatic representations by the royal family. Louis XIV. appeared on the boards as a dancer; and even under the pious Madame de Maintenon, the princes and princesses of France acted the dramas of Corneille and Racine."
"But they had the permission of the king, and none of them were future queens."
"What of that? If the queen approved of the exhibition, the dauphiness might surely repeat it. My daughter is doing no more at Versailles, than she has been accustomed to do at Schonbrunn, in her mother's presence."
"The etiquette of the two courts is dissimilar," said De Rohan, with a shrug. "In Vienna, an archduchess is permitted to do that which, in Paris, would be considered an impropriety."
"Another complaint!" cried the empress, out of patience.
"The dauphiness finds it a bore," continued De Rohan, "to he accompanied wherever she goes, by two ladies of honor. She has, therefore, been seen in the palace, even in the gardens of Versailles, without any escort, except that of two servants."
"Have you come to the end of your complaints?" said the empress scarcely able to control her passion.
"I have, your majesty. Allow me to add, that the reputation of a woman seldom dies from a single blow—it expires gradually from repeated pricks of the needle. And queens are as liable to such mortality as other women."
"It ill becomes the Prince de Rohan to pass judgment upon the honor of women," cried Maria Theresa, exasperated by his lip-morality. "If the French ambassador presumes to come to me with such trivial complaints as I have heard to-day, I will direct my minister in Paris to make representations to the king of another and a more serious nature."
"Regarding the unpardonable indifference of the dauphin to his wife?" asked the cardinal, with sympathizing air.
"No. Regarding the unpardonable conduct of the French ambassador in Vienna." exclaimed the empress. "If the cardinal is so shocked at a slight breach of etiquette, he should be careful to conceal his own deformities under its sheltering veil. Innocence may sin against ceremony; but he, who leads a dissolute and voluptuous life, should make decorum a shield wherewith to cover his own shame!"
"I thank your majesty for this axiom so replete with worldly wisdom. But for whom can it be intended? Certainly not for the dauphiness."
"No; for yourself, prince and cardinal!" cried the empress, beside herself with anger. "For the prelate who, unmindful of his rank and of its obligations, carries on his shameless intrigues even with the ladies of my court. For the ambassador who, leading a life of Oriental magnificence, is treading under foot the honor of his country, by living upon the credulity of his inferiors. All Vienna knows that your household makes unworthy use of your privileges as a foreign minister, by importing goods free of tax, and reselling them here. All Vienna knows that there are more silk stockings sold at the hotel of the French embassy than in all Paris and Lyons together. The world blames me for having revoked the privilege enjoyed by foreign embassies to import their clothing free of duty. It does not know that the abuse of this privilege by yourself has forced me to the measure."
"Your majesty is very kind to take so much trouble to investigate the affairs of my household. You are more au fait to the details than myself. I was not aware, for instance, that silk stockings were sold at the embassy. No more than I was aware that I had had any amours with the ladies of the court. I have a very cold heart, and, perhaps, that is the reason why I have never seen one to whom I would devote a second thought. As regards my manner of living, I consider it appropriate to my rank, titles, and means; and that is all that I feel it necessary to say on the subject."
"You dispose of these charges in a summary manner. To hear you, one would really suppose there was not the slightest ground for reproach in your life," said the empress, satirically.
"That this is quite within the range of possibility, is proved by the case of the dauphiness," replied De Rohan. "If your majesty thinks so little of her breaches of etiquette, it seems to me that mine are of still less consequence. And allow me to say, that the French nation will sooner forgive me a thousand intrigues with the ladies of Vienna, than pass over the smallest deviation from court usages on the part of the dauphiness. Marie Antoinette has defied them more than once, and I fear me, she will bitterly repent her thoughtlessness. Her enemies are watchful and—"
"Oh, I see that they are watchful," exclaimed Maria Theresa, "I see it. Do not deny it, you are one of those whose evil eyes see evil doings in every impulse of my dear defenceless child's heart. But have a care, sir cardinal, the friendless dauphiness will one day be Queen of France, and she will then have it in her power to bring to justice those who persecute her now!" [Footnote: "Memoires de Madame de Campan," vol. i., p. 47.]
"I hope that I shall never be accused of such fellowship," said De
Rohan, for the first time losing his proud self-possession.
"I, the Empress of Austria, accuse you to-day of it!" cried Maria Theresa, with threatening mien. "Oh, my lord, it does you little honor—you, a royal personage and a prince of the church, to exchange letters with a Du Barry, to whose shameless ears you defame the mother of your future queen!"
"When did I do this? When was I so lost to honor as to speak a disrespectful word of the Empress of Austria?"
"You deny it—do you? Let me tell you that your praise or your blame are all one to me; and if I have granted you this interview, it was to show you how little I am disturbed by your censorious language. I know something of the intriguing at Versailles. I have even heard of the private orgies of the 'Oeil de Boeuf,' where Louis entertains his favorites. And I will tell you what took place at the last one. The Countess du Barry was diverting the company with accounts of the hypocrisy of the Empress of Austria; and to prove it, she drew from her pocket-book a letter, saying: 'Hear what the Cardinal de Rohan says about her.' Now, cardinal, do you still deny that you correspond with her?"
"I do deny it," said the prince, firmly. "I deny that I ever have written her a word."
The empress took from her pocket a paper, and read as follows
"True, I have seen Maria Theresa weeping over the fate of Poland, but this sovereign, who is such an adept in the art of dissimulation, appears to have tears and sighs at her command. In one hand she holds her pocket-handkerchief, and in the other the sword with which she cuts off a third of that unhappy country." [Footnote: "Memoires de Weber concernant Marie Antoinette," vol. viii., p. 803.]
"Now, sir cardinal, upon your sacred honor, did you or did you not write these words?"
The prince turned pale, and grasped the arm of the chair on which he sat.
"Upon your honor and your conscience, before God!" reiterated the empress.
The cardinal raised his eyes slowly, and in a low voice, said "I dare not deny it. I wrote them. In an unlucky hour I wrote them—but not to Du Barry."
"To whom, then?"
"To one who has betrayed me to Du Barry. Far be it for me to name him. I alone will bear the weight of your majesty's displeasure. I alone am the culprit."
"I know of no culprit in the matter," replied Maria Theresa, throwing back her stately head. "I stand before God and before the world, and every man has a right to pass sentence upon my actions—even the Cardinal de Rohan. I merely wish to show him that the dauphiness and her mother both know what to expect of his eminence."
"The dauphiness knows of this letter?" cried De Rohan.
"It is she who sent me this copy."
The prince bowed his head down upon his hands.
"I am lost!" murmured he.
The empress surveyed him with mistrust. Such emotion on the part of such a man astonished her, and she doubted its sincerity.
"Why this comedy, prince?" said she. "I have already told you that I am indifferent to your opinion."
"But the dauphiness never will forgive me," said he, uncovering his face. "My contrition is no comedy: for I look with prophetic eyes into the future—and there I see anguish and tears."
"For whom?" said Maria Theresa, scornfully.
"For me, and perchance for the dauphiness. She considers me her enemy, and will treat me as such. But hatred is a two-edged sword which is as apt to wound the one who holds it as the one for whom it is unsheathed. Oh, your majesty, warn the dauphiness! She stands upon the brow of a precipice, and if she do not recede, her enemies will thrust her headlong into the abyss below. Marie Antoinette is an angel of innocence and chastity, but the world in which she lives does not understand the language of angels; and the wicked will soil her wings, that her purity may not be a reproach to their own foulness. Warn the dauphiness to beware of her enemies. But, as God hears me, I am not one of them. Marie Antoinette will never believe me, and, therefore, my fate is sealed. I beg leave of your majesty to withdraw."
Without awaiting the answer, the prince bowed and retired.
Maria Theresa looked thoughtfully after him, and long after be had closed the door, she remained standing in the centre of the room, a prey to the anxious misgivings which his visit had kindled in her heart.
"He is right," said she, after a time. "She wanders upon the edge of a precipice, and I must save her. But, oh my God! where shall I find a friend who will love her enough to brave her displeasure, and, in the midst of the flattery which surrounds her, will raise the honest voice of reproof and censure? Ah, she is so unhappy, my little Antoinette, and I have no power to help her! Oh my God! succor my persecuted child!"