The Prince de Ligne was at Vienna when he received the news of the capture of Ismaïl, and of the honours the Empress had bestowed on his son. He had just been slighted and treated with flagrant injustice by Leopold II., but he forgot everything on hearing of his Charles’s success, and wrote the same day to the Czarina:—
“Madame—My heart, which bounds forward so quickly that my pen is unable to keep pace with it, can never sufficiently express my gratitude for the favours bestowed by your Imperial Majesty on my excellent and fortunate Charles. I shall not publish the letter you have deigned to write to me, but shall content myself with never forgetting it. Not until we have peace will your Majesty regain your former wit, as during the last four years you have been all soul and genius. Good heavens, what abundant proof of it there is in your letter to my good Charles! I am afraid it will have put him quite beside himself....”
But it is with his son that the Prince gives himself up to the full vehemence of his feelings.
Vienna, 25th November 1790.
“So you end the war, as you began it, by making me die of anxiety on behalf of the most courageous of mortals, of joy at possessing such a son, of emotion at your conduct, and of regret at never having equalled your merit in any quarter.[93] My dear Charles, in spite of these four deaths, I am quite alive, and the happiest of men, for I am going to see you again. My God! good Charles, brave Charles, what anxiety you have given me! Mine is the high stake! If they had néboïsséd[94] you, as they sometimes do (and for two or three nights especially the thought deprived me of sleep), say, what in the world would have become of me? Supposing I had survived, could I have existed a minute without reproaching myself for my strength and weakness in not opposing your departure?...”
Almost immediately after the peace of Ismaïl the Empress began secretly to negotiate a treaty with the Turks. Preoccupied by events in France, and especially in Poland, she was anxious to be rid of a war which absorbed the greatest part of her army. Prince Charles, aware of what was going on, asked and obtained his discharge. He announced his return to Vienna to his father, and came back escorted by a numerous retinue. He brought with him the little Norokos and his attendants, a Turkish band of twelve musicians, and magnificent presents of arms and horses that Marshal Souvarof and Prince Potemkin had given him.
The Prince de Ligne to his Son.
“Good Lord! dear Charles! you are coming back, but I cannot realise it. I assure you that since you have had the good fortune to escape from such dangers, you must be physically immortal as well as morally. I do not know how I shall manage to kiss you, how I shall place myself, where your large nose will go, how I shall manage my own; I fully intend also kissing your wounded knee, perhaps going down on my own knees for the purpose, before you as well as before heaven.”
P.S.—To the bravest and prettiest fellow among the Volunteers.[95]
“As for you, my dear Duke, I shall not seek to express the feelings I entertain on your behalf. It is impossible to be a more worthy grandson of the Maréchal de Richelieu, never has any one had a more valiant and charming comrade. Both you and Charles have equally contributed to each other’s glory.