CHAPTER XLIX.
TWO AFFIANCED QUEENS.
There was great activity in the private apartments of the empress. Maria Theresa, whose forenoons were usually dedicated to business of state, was now engaged in giving audience to jewellers, milliners, and mantuamakers.
For whom were these preparations? No one knew, although every one desired to know. The secret seemed especially to interest the two young Archduchesses Caroline and Marie Antoinette. These silks, satins, laces, and jewels signified—marriage. Of that, there could be no doubt. But who was to be the bride? The Archduchess Elizabeth was past thirty. Could it be that there was any truth in the rumor of a projected marriage between herself and the old King of France? She was tired of life at the court of Austria, and would have welcomed the change, had the negotiations which were pending on that subject ever come to anything. But they did not. [Footnote: They were frustrated by the Countess du Barry, who never forgave the Duke de Choiseul for entertaining the project. Du Barry prevailed upon the king to say that he was too old to marry, and she revenged herself on Choiseul by bringing about his disgrace. Alex. Dumas, "History of Louis XV.">[
Caroline and Marie Antoinette were very incredulous when it was hinted that their mother's preparations were intended for their eldest sister. They laughed at the absurdity of Elizabeth's faded pretensions.
"It must be that I am about to be married," said Caroline, as she entered her little sister's room one morning, in full dress. "The empress has commanded my presence in her cabinet to-day, and that betokens something unusual and important. But bless me you, too, are in full dress?"
"Yes," said Marie Antoinette, laughing, and echoing her sister's words, "it must certainly be myself that is about to be married, for the empress has commanded my presence in her cabinet, and, of course, she has something of great importance to communicate."
"How! You also?" exclaimed Caroline. "At what hour?"
"At twelve exactly, your highness," answered Marie Antoinette, with a deep courtesy.
"The same hour. Then we must go together. I suppose that the empress intends to propose a husband for me, and a new tutor for you, Antoinette."
"Pray, why not a husband?" laughed Marie Antoinette.
"Because, you saucy child," replied her sister, "husbands are not dolls for little girls to play with."
Marie Antoinette tossed her pretty bead, saying, "Let me tell you, Caroline, that little girls are sometimes as wise as their elders, and I shall give you a proof of my superior wisdom, by not returning irony for irony. Perhaps it may be you who is to be married—perhaps it may be both of us. There are more crowns in Europe than one. But hark! there sounds the clock. The empress expects us."
She gave her hand to her sister, and the two princesses went laughing together to their mother's room.
The empress received them with an affectionate smile, and although her daughters were accustomed to stand in her presence, to-day she told them to sit on either side of her.
They were both beautiful, and their mother surveyed them with pride and pleasure.
"Come, dear children," said she, "we will banish etiquette for a while. To-day I am no empress, I am but a mother. But why do you both smile so significantly at one another? Are you guessing at what is to be the subject of our interview?"
"What can it be, your majesty," said Caroline gayly, "but the explanation of the riddle that has been puzzling all the brains in the palace for a month past?"
"You have guessed," answered Maria Theresa, laughing. "It is of your own marriage that I would speak. I have accepted a crown for you, my Caroline, and the ambassador who will conduct you to your kingdom is already on his way. Your trousseau is magnificent and worthy of a queen. Your fair brow was made for a royal diadem, and in yonder room lies one that is made up of a constellation of diamonds."
"But the king—the man—who is he?" asked Caroline anxiously. "Tell me, your majesty, to whom I am affianced?"
The empress's brow grew ruffled.
"My daughter," said she, "a princess marries not a king, but a kingdom. It is given to few mortals wearing crowns to add to their royalty domestic happiness. It becomes you more to ask whether you are to be a great and powerful queen, than the name of the man who is to place his crown upon your head."
The princess was silent, but she said to herself, "If she means to hand me over to the horrid old King of France, I shall say emphatically—No!"
The empress went on. "Diplomacy is the wooer of royal maidens, and diplomacy has chosen you both. For you, too, my little Antoinette, are promised to the heir of a crown."
Marie Antoinette nodded to Caroline. "I told you so," said she. "Mamma did not call me hither to propose a new tutor."
"Yes, my dear," said the empress, laughing, "I did call you hither for that object also. A little girl who is destined to reign over one of the greatest nations in the world must prepare herself conscientiously to fill her station worthily. You have a noble mission, my child; through your marriage the enmity so long subsisting between Austria and France shall be converted into amity and concord."
"France!" screamed Antoinette. "Your majesty would surely not marry me to the horrid old Louis XV.!"
"Oh no!" replied the empress, heartily amused. "You are affianced to his grandson, who one of these days will be called Louis XVI."
Marie Antoinette uttered a cry and started from her seat. "Oh my God!" exclaimed she.
"What—what is the matter?" cried Maria Theresa. "Speak, my child, what ails you?"
"Nothing," murmured Antoinette, shaking her head sadly. "Your majesty would only laugh."
"What is it? I insist upon knowing why it is that you shudder at the name of Louis XVI.? Have you heard aught to his disadvantage? Has your brother the emperor—"
"No, no," interrupted Marie Antoinette, quickly, "the emperor has never mentioned his name to me. No one has ever spoken disparagingly of the dauphin in my presence. What made me shudder at the mention of his title, is the recollection of a fearful prophecy which was related to me yesterday, by my French teacher, as we were reading the hisory of Catherine de Medicis."
"Tell it to me, then, my daughter."
"Since your majesty commands me, I obey," said the young girl, gracefully inclining her head. "Catherine de Medicis, though she was very learned, was a very superstitious woman. One of her astrologers owned a magic looking-glass. He brought it before the queen, and she commanded him to show her in the mirror the destiny of her royal house. He obeyed, and drew back the curtain that covered the face of the looking-glass."
"And what did she see there?" asked the empress, with interest.
Marie Antoinette continued: "She saw the lily-decked throne of France;
and upon it appeared, one after another, her sons, Henry, Francis, and
Charles. Then came her hated son-in-law, Henry of Navarre; after him,
Louis XIII.—then his grandson, Louis XIV., then Louis XV."
"And what then?"
"Then she saw nothing. She waited a few moments after Louis XV. had disappeared, and then she saw a figure with a crown upon his head, but this figure soon was hidden by a cloud; and, in his place, the throne was filled with snakes and cats, who were tearing each other to pieces."
"Fearful sight!" said Maria Theresa, rising from her seat and walking about the room.
"It was fearful to Catherine de Medicis, your majesty, for she fainted.
Now you know why I dread to be the bride of the one who is to be called
Louis XVI."
The empress said nothing. For a while, she went to and fro through the room; then she resumed her seat, and threw back her proud head with a forced smile.
"These are silly fables," said she, "tales with which nurses might frighten little children, but only fit to provoke laughter from rational beings."
"Pardon me, your majesty," interposed Antoinette "but Louis XV. is not too rational to be affected by them."
"How do you know that, child?"
"I know it, your majesty, because Monsieur le Maitre, who published this prophecy in his journal 'L'Espion Ture,' was imprisoned for fifteen years in the Bastile, on account of it. He is still there, although he has powerful friends who have interceded for him in vain." [Footnote: Swinburne, p. 60.]
"And Aufresne told you all this?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"He ought to go to the Bastile with Le Maitre, then. But I hope that my little Antoinette has too much sense to be affected by Aufresne's nonsense, and that she will accept the husband whom her sovereign and mother has chosen for her. It is a bright destiny, that of a Queen of France; and if snakes and cats should come near your throne, you must tread them under foot. Look up, my child, and have courage. In two years you will be the bride of the dauphin. Prepare yourself meanwhile to be a worthy representative of your native Austria. The Queen of France must, as far as she is able, assimilate herself to the customs and language of her people. With that intention, Prince Kaunitz has commissioned the Duke de Choiseul to select you a new teacher. He will be accompanied by two French ladies of honor. These people, my dear, are to form your manners according to the requirements of court etiquette in France; but in your heart, my child, I trust that you will always be an Austrian. That you may not be too French, Gluck will continue to give you music lessons. I flatter myself that the French cannot compete with us in music. Study well, and try to deserve the brilliant destiny in store for you."
She drew Antoinette close to her and kissed her fondly.
"I will obey your majesty in all things," whispered the child, and sadly she resumed her seat.
"Now, Caroline," continued the empress, "a word with you. You see with what modesty and submission your sister has accepted her destiny. Follow her example, and prepare yourself to receive your affianced husband, Ferdinand of Naples."
It was Caroline, now, who turned pale and shuddered. She uttered a cry of horror, and raised her hands in abhorrence. "Never! Never, your majesty," cried she, "I cannot do it. You would not be so unnatural as to—"
"And why not?" asked the empress, coldly.
"Because God Himself has declared against our alliance with the King of
Naples. He it is who interposed to save my sisters from this marriage.
In mercy, my mother, do not sentence me also to death!"
The empress grew pale, and her lip quivered. But Maria Theresa, was forever warring with her own emotions, so that nothing was gained for Caroline by this appeal to her maternal love.
"What!" exclaimed she, recovering her self-possession. "do you also seek to frighten me? I am not the cowardly simpleton for which you mistake me. As if the King of Naples were a vampire, to murder his wives at dead of night! No, Caroline, no! If it has pleased the Almighty to afflict me, by taking to Himself the two dear children who were to have been Queens of Naples, it is a sad coincidence—nothing more."
"But I cannot marry him!" cried Caroline, wringing her hands; "I should be forever seeing at his side the spectral figures of my dead sisters. Mother, dear mother, have pity on me!"
"Have pity on her!" echoed Antoinette, kneeling at the empress's feet.
"Enough!" exclaimed Maria Theresa, in a commanding voice. "I have spoken, it is for you to obey; for my word has been given, and I cannot retract. If, as your mother, I feel my heart grow weak with sympathy for your weakness, as your empress, I spurn its cowardly promptings; for my imperial word shall be held sacred, if it cost me my life. Rise, both of you. It ill becomes the Queens of France and Naples to bow their knees like beggars. Obedience is more praiseworthy than humiliation. Go to your apartments; pray for courage to bear your crosses, and God's blessing will shield you from all evil."
"I will pray God to give me grace to die in His favor," faltered
Caroline.
"I will pray Him to take my life at once, rather than I should live to share the destiny of Louis XVI.!" whispered Antoinette, while the two imperial martyrs bowed low before their mother, and retired each to her room.
Maria Theresa looked after their sweet, childish figures, and when the door had closed upon them, she buried her face in the cushions of the sofa where they had been sitting together, and wept.
"My children! my children! Each a queen, and both in tears! Oh, Heavenly Father, grant that I may not have erred, in forcing this weight of royalty upon their tender heads. Mother of God, thou hast loved a child! By that holy love, pray for those who would faint if their crowns should be of thorns!"
EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA.
CHAPTER L.
THE DINNER AT THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR'S.
Prince Kaunitz sat lazily reclining in his arm-chair, playing with his jewelled snuff-box and listening with an appearance of unconcern to a man who, in an attitude of profoundest respect, was relating to him a remarkable story of a young emperor and a beautiful peasant-girl, in which there was much talk of woods, diamonds, milk, and an Arabian steed.
The smile that was upon the face of the minister might either betoken amusement or incredulity.
The detective was at that period of his story where the emperor parted from old Conrad and his daughters. He now paused to see the effect of his narration.
"Very pretty, indeed," said the prince, nodding his head, "but romances are out of fashion. In these days we prefer truth."
"Does your highness suppose I am not speaking truth'?" said the man.
Kaunitz took a pinch of snuff, and replied coldly, "I suppose nothing about it. Somebody, I know, has been playing upon your love of the marvellous. I know that you are not telling me the truth."
"Your highness!" exclaimed Eberhard, with the air of an injured man, "no one can impose upon my credulity, for I believe nothing but that which I see. I had this adventure from old Conrad himself, and I saw him receive a thousand ducats for the horse. In the joy of his foolish old heart, he told me the whole story; and as he saw the deep interest which I felt in the tale, he invited me to his house, where I saw the beautiful Marianne, with her diamond on her finger."
"Then you acted like a fool; for the emperor knows you as well as all Vienna does, and he will be furious when he discovers that we have been watching his pastoral amours."
"Indeed, your highness is right, I would be a poor fool to go there without great precaution; for, as you very justly remarked, I am well known in Vienna. But when I made the old peasant's acquaintance I was disguised, and I defy anybody to know me when I choose to play incognito. I wore a gray wig and a black patch over one eye. In this dress I visited them, and had the story all over again, with variations, from that coquettish village beauty, Kathi."
"How long ago?"
"Three weeks, your highness."
"How many times since then has the emperor visited his inamorata?"
"Six times, your highness. Old Conrad has bought a farm, where he lives in a handsome house, in which each of his daughters now has a room of her own. Marianne's room opens on the garden, where the emperor drinks his milk and enjoys the privilege of her society."
"Have the girls any lovers?"
"Of course, your highness; but they have grown so proud that Kathi will have nothing to say to her sweetheart, Valentine; while Marianne, it is said has never encouraged any of the young men in the village. Indeed, they are all afraid of her."
"Because they know that the emperor honors her with his presence?"
"No, your highness, the emperor has not allowed the family to whisper a word of his agency in their newly-gotten wealth. They give out that it is a legacy."
"Do the emperor and Marianne see one another in secret, without the curate and the father's knowledge?"
Eberhard shrugged his shoulders. "Day before yesterday, Marianne went alone to the woods to gather mushrooms, and never came home until dusk. She had been lost in the woods. It was the day on which the emperor was to visit the farm, but he did not come. Perhaps he got lost too. To-morrow, Marianne is to gather mushrooms again. I, too, shall go—to cut wood,"
"Is that all?" asked Kaunitz.
"That is all, for to-day, your highness."
"Very well. Go home and invent a continuation of your story. Let no one know of it meanwhile except myself. You can boast of more than some poets and literati can say, for you have amused me, and I will reward you. Here are two gold ducats for you."
Eberhard bowed low as he received them, but when he had left the room, and was out of sight of Kaunitz, he turned toward the door muttering, "As if I were such a fool as to sell my precious secret to you for two paltry ducats! I know of others who will pay me for my news, and they shall have it."
Meanwhile Kaunitz, buried in his arm-chair, was revolving the story is his mind.
"An emperor, a widower of two wives," said he to himself, "and he treats us to an idyl of the genuine Gessner stamp! An imperial Damon who spends his time twining wreaths of roses with his Philis! Well—he had better be left to play the fool in peace; his pastoral will keep him from meddling in state affairs. Men call me the coachman of European politics; so be it, and let no one meddle with my coach-box. That noble empress is of one mind with me, but this emperor would like to snatch the reins, and go careering over the heavens for himself. So much the better if he flirts and drinks milk with a dairymaid. But how long will it last? Eberhard, of course, has gone to Porhammer, who being piously disinclined to such little pastimes, will go straight to the empress; and then Damon will be reproved, and I—I may fall under her displeasure for having known and concealed her son's intrigue. What shall I do? Shall I warn the emperor so that he can carry off his Semele, and go on with his amours? Or shall I—bah! Let things shape themselves. What do I care for them all? I am the coachman of Europe, and they are my passengers."
So saying, Kaunitz threw back his head, and, being alone, indulged himself in a chuckle. It was speedily smothered, however, for three taps at the door announced the approach of the minister's valet.
"The fool intends to remind me that it is time to dress," said he to himself. "There must be some important engagement on hand to make him so audacious. Come in, Hippolyte!—Any engagement for dinner?" asked he, as Hippolyte made his appearance.
"So please your highness, you dine to-day with the Frenoh ambassador."
"What o'clock is it?"
"Three o'clock, your highness."
"It is time. Tell the cook to send my dinner to the palace of the French ambassador. His excellency knows the terms on which I dine out of my own house?"
"I had the honor to explain them fully, your highness."
"And he acceded to them?"
"He did, your highness. Your highness, he said, was welcome to bring your dinner, if you preferred it to his. He had one request, however, to make, which was that you would not bring your post-dessert; a request which I did not understand."
"I understand it perfectly. The Count de Breteuil means that he would like me to leave my mouth-cleaning apparatus at home. Come, since it is time, let us begin to dress."
So saying, he rose, and presently he was walking to and fro in the powder-room, buried in his white mantle, while the servants waved their powder-brushes, and the air was dense with white clouds.
"Order the carriage," said the prince, when Hippolyte had presented the snuff-box and the handkerchief of cobweb cambric and lace. "Three footmen to stand behind my chair."
Hippolyte went to order the footmen to the hotel of the Count de Breteuil, while his master slowly made his way to the anteroom where six lackeys awaited him, each one bearing aloft a long silk cloak.
"What says the thermometer to-day?" asked he.
The lackey with the first cloak stepped to a window and examined the thermometer that was fastened outside.
"Sixty degrees, your highness—temperate," said the man.
"Cold! Four cloaks," said Kaunitz; and stepping through the row of servants, one after the other laid cloak upon cloak over his shoulders. When the fourth one had been wrapped around him, he ordered a fifth for his return, and putting his handkerchief to his mouth for fear he might swallow a breath of air, the coachman of Europe proceeded to his carriage, where Hippolyte was ready to help him in.
"Is my mouth-cleaning apparatus in the rumble?" asked the prince, as he sank back in the soft cushions.
"Your highness said that his excellency had requested—"
"Yes, but I did not say that I should heed his excellency's request.
Quick, and bring it hither! Cups, brushes, essences, and every thing!"
Off started Hippolyte, and Kaunitz drew his four cloaks around his precious person while he muttered to himself, "I shall show my lord, Count de Breteuil, that the man who has the honor of receiving Kaunitz at his table, makes no conditions with such a guest. The French ambassador grows arrogant, and I must teach him that the rules of etiquette and customs of society are for him and his compeers, but not for me. Whatever Kaunitz does is becoming and en regle. Voila tout.—Forward!"
Meanwhile the Count de Breteuil was receiving his distinguished guests. After the topics of the day had been discussed, he informed them that he was glad to be able to promise that Prince Kaunitz would come to dinner without his abominable apparatus.
"Impossible!" exclaimed the ladies.
"Not at all," replied the count. "I have complied with one of his absurd conditions—he brings his dinner; but I made it my especial request that he would omit his usual post-dessert."
"And he agreed?"
"It would appear so, since he has accepted. It must be so, for see, he is here."
The count went forward to meet the prince, who deigned not the smallest apology for having kept the guests waiting a whole hour.
They repaired to the dining-room, where a costly and luxurious dinner made amends to the company for their protracted fast.
Kaunitz, however, took no notice of these delicate viands. He ate his own dinner, and was served by his own lackeys.
"Your highness," said his neighbor, the Princess Esterhazy, "you should taste this pate a la Soubise, it is delicious."
"Who knows what abominable ingredients may not have gone into its composition?" said Kaunitz. "I might poison myself if I tasted the villanous compound. It is all very well for ordinary people to eat from other men's kitchens. If they die the ranks close up and nobody misses them; but I owe my life to Austria and to Europe. Eat your pate a la Soubise, if it suit you; I eat nothing but viands a la Kaunitz, and I trust to no cook but my own."
It was the same with the Tokay, the Johannisberg and the Champagne. Kaunitz affected not to see them, while one of his lackeys reached him a glass of water on a golden salver. Kaunitz held it up to the light. "How dare you bring me water from the count's fountain?" said he, with a threatening look.
"Indeed, your highness," stammered the frightened servant, "I drew it myself from your highness's own fountain."
"How," laughed the Princess Esterhazy, "you bring your water, too?"
"Yes, madame, I do, for it is the purest water in Vienna, and I have already told you that my health is of the first importance to Austria. Bread, Baptiste!"
Baptiste was behind the chair, with a golden plate, on which lay two or three slices of bread, which he presented.
"And bread, too, from his house," cried the princess, laughing immoderately.
"Yes, madame," replied Kaunitz, gravely, "I eat no bread but that of my own baker."
"Oh," replied the gay young princess. "I am not surprised at your taking such wondrous good care of yourself; what astonishes me is, that you should be allowed to enjoy such privileges in a house that is not your own. Why, Louis XIV. could not have been more exacting when he condescended to dine with a subject!"
Kaunitz raised his cold blue eyes so as to meet the look of the bold speaker. "Madame," said he, "Louis XIV. was Louis XIV., and I am Kaunitz."
So saying, he took a glass of water from HIS fountain, and ate a piece of bread from HIS baker. He then leaned back in his chair and took an animated part in the conversation.
This was only because thereby he knew that he would dazzle his hearers by speaking English, French, Italian, or Spanish, as occasion required.
The dinner was at an end and dessert came on the table. Of course Kaunitz refused to partake of it; but while the other guests were enjoying their confections, he took advantage of a pause in the conversation, to say to his pretty neighbor:
"Now, princess, that the company have enjoyed THEIR dessert, I shall take the liberty of ordering MINE."
"Ah! you have your own dessert?" asked the princess, while the guests listened to hear what was coming.
"I have," said Kaunitz. "I have brought my dessert, of course.
Hippolyte, my etui."
Hippolyte brought the offensive etui and laid it on the dinner-table, while Baptiste approached with a glass of water. Kaunitz opened the case with quiet indifference and examined its content. There were several small mirrors, various kinds of brushes, scissors, knives, a whet-stone, and a pile of little linen napkins. [Footnote: Swinburne, vol i., page 353.]
While Kaunitz examined and took out his disgusting little utensils the ladies looked at Count Breteuil, who could scarcely credit the evidence of his senses. But as Kaunitz set a looking-glass before him, raised his upper lip, and closed his teeth, preparatory to a cleaning, the count rose indignant from his seat.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "we will return to the drawing-room for coffee; Prince Kaunitz desires this room to himself."
The company departed, leaving Kaunitz alone. He did not look as if he had heard or seen any thing. He went on grinning, brushing his teeth, drying them in and out with his napkins, and finished off with washing his hands and cleaning his nails. This done, he walked deliberately back to the drawing-room, and, going immediately toward the host, he said:
"Count, I am about to return home. You have taken very great pains to prepare a dinner for me, and I shall make you a princely return. From this day forward I dine no more from home; your dinner, therefore, will be immortal, for history will relate that the last time Prince Kaunitz dined away from his own palace, he dined at that of the French ambassador." With this he bowed, and slowly left the room.