One of their first acts of courtesy was the reciprocal bestowal of the badges and stars of their Orders. Those various decorations of all shapes and denominations became a positive puzzle, for besides a long list of the saints of the calendar, there were some of the strangest names, like the Elephant, the Phœnix, the Black, Red, and White Eagles, the Sword, the Star, the Lion, the Fleece, the Bath, etc. This exchange was the prelude to others somewhat more important, such as the presents of kingdoms, provinces, or a certain number of inhabitants. One of the ceremonies of that kind most frequently referred to was the investment by Lord Castlereagh, on behalf of his sovereign, of the Emperor of Austria with the Order of the Garter. The Prince de Ligne, who was one of the eyewitnesses, told me that this solemnity was conducted with much pomp and circumstance. Sir Isaac Heard, Garter Principal King of Arms, came expressly from London. It was he who invested the Emperor with the dress of the Order, and attached that much coveted insignia; after which Lord Castlereagh presented the latest recipient with the statutes of the Order. As a fit acknowledgment of the courtesy, the Emperor conferred on the Prince Regent and the Duke of York, his brother, the rank of field-marshal.
After having exhausted the series of their decorations, the sovereigns began bestowing upon each other the colonelcies of the various regiments of their armies. When the honour had been bestowed, the recipient made it a point of appearing almost immediately in the uniform of his regiment. Models were produced in hot haste, for it was essential that not a button should be wanting. Tailors, escorted by favourite aides-de-camp, immediately reconnoitred the ground, called upon the possessors of those precious regimentals, and took note of the minutest details in connection with them; after which the work commenced—a pacific labour, notwithstanding its bellicose appearance, to be terminated by the production of a complete dress from the spur of the boot to the obligatory plume of feathers.
In accordance with these prescriptions, the Emperor of Austria conferred upon his ‘good brother’ the Emperor of Russia, the Hiller Regiment, and upon the Crown Prince of Würtemberg that of the Blankenstein Hussars. Alexander returned the compliment by the bestowal of one of his regiments of the Russian Imperial Guards; and to show the importance he attached to the gift he had received, he desired personally to present his new soldiers with their standard. This standard had been magnificently embroidered by the Empress of Austria. It displayed the words: ‘Indissoluble Union between the Emperors Alexander and Franz.’ The regiment was drawn up in battle order on one of the lawns of the Prater; a great crowd had gathered to witness the ceremony, and Alexander, after receiving the colour from the hands of the Empress of Austria, advanced towards the troops and presented it. ‘Soldiers,’ he said, ‘remember that it is your duty to die in defence of this and in defence of your Emperor and of your colonel, Alexander of Russia.’ It will be easily understood that words like these from the lips of the Czar, who at that period was as handsome as he was chivalrous, were calculated to arouse the enthusiasm of the soldiers to whom they were addressed and of the numerous spectators privileged to listen to them.
On the morning after this ceremony Alexander went on foot to Field-Marshal Prince de Schwartzenberg’s, dressed in his new regimentals, the only decoration on his breast being the metal cross of the Military Order of the Austrian Army. To please General Hiller, his new titular chief, he made him a present of ten thousand florins, and in addition sent a thousand florins to each of his officers.
The habits of the sovereigns were those of private individuals. It was evident that they were only too pleased to shake off the burden of etiquette. Very often the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia were to be seen strolling about the streets arm-in-arm and dressed in mufti. Emperor Alexander similarly often took walks with Prince Eugène.
They paid each other visits and prepared surprises for one another like cordial friends of old standing; in a word, royal good-fellowship reigned throughout. On Emperor Franz’s fête-day[25] Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia bethought themselves of surprising him as he left his bed, and made him a present, the one of a dressing-gown lined with Russian sable, the other of a handsome silver basin and ewer of exquisite workmanship and made in Berlin. The accounts of those cordially intimate scenes found their way to the public and formed the subject of general conversation.
Foremost among those sovereigns shone the King of Bavaria, the King of Denmark, and the Emperor of Russia: the first in virtue of his kindness, the second in virtue of his brilliant and subtle repartees, the third in virtue of his courtesy and affable manners. Of all the foreign princes, Frederick[26] was the most assiduous visitor to the monuments and public institutions of the capital; and wherever he went, he left traces of his liberality. As for Alexander, he never missed an opportunity of showing the delightful grace of manner which at that time won all hearts.
During a promenade on horseback in the Prater, the Emperor of Austria, wishing to dismount for a moment, looked round in vain for some one of his suite, from which he had got separated by the crowd. Alexander, guessing his intention, nimbly jumped off his horse and held out his hand to his fellow-sovereign, just as on a memorable occasion the Great Frederick held the stirrup of Joseph II. As a matter of course, the little scene drew unanimous cheers from all sides, showing the appreciation of the crowd for the gracious impromptu.
On another occasion, at a review, a number of people pressed around Alexander, eager to catch a glimpse of his face. A countryman seemed even more anxious than the rest, trying to elbow his way through the serried mass. Alexander caught sight of him. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘you wished to see the Emperor of Russia; now you can say that you have spoken to him.’
To the foreign visitors, an easy life like this, constantly enhanced by entertainments, really constituted a delightful existence. In order fitly to celebrate that memorable gathering, Vienna appeared determined to increase the programme of recreations it generally afforded. Situated in the centre of Southern Germany, the city provided, as it were, an oasis of delightful calm and ‘happy-go-lucky’ leisure amidst the grave, scientific, and philosophical occupations of the neighbouring countries. Wholly given up to the pleasure of the senses, its existence was composed of fêtes, banquets, dances, and above all, music. It had pressed into its service as an auxiliary that excellent wine of Hungary, calculated to give an extra zest to rejoicings of all kinds. Thus provided, it glided smoothly on, allowing itself to be governed with the gentle impassiveness bred of material satisfaction.