I mention this little incident here, not as in any way connecting itself with my own fortunes, but as illustrating what I afterward discovered to be the universal feeling entertained toward this alliance. Low as Austria then was—beaten in every battle—her vast treasury confiscated—her capital in the hands of an enemy—her very existence as an empire threatened; the thought of this insult—for such they deemed it—to the Imperial House, seemed to make the burden unendurable; and many who would have sacrificed territory and power for a peace, would have scorned to accept it at such a price as this.
I suppose the secret history of the transaction will never be disclosed; but living as I did, at the time, under the same roof with the royal family, I inclined to think that their counsels were of a divided nature; that while the Emperor and the younger Archdukes gave a favorable ear to the project, the Empress and the Archduke Charles as steadily opposed it. The gossip of the day spoke of dreadful scenes between the members of the Imperial House, and some have since asserted that the breaches of affection that were then made never were reconciled in after life.
With these events of state or private history I have no concern. My position and my nationality, of course, excluded me from confidential intercourse with those capable of giving correct information; nor can I record any thing beyond the mere current rumors of the time. This much, however, I could remark, that all whom conviction, policy, or perhaps bribery inclined to the alliance, were taken into court favor, and replaced in the offices of the household those whose opinions were adverse. A total change, in fact, took place in the persons of the royal suite, and the Hungarian nobles, many of whom filled the “Hautes Chargés,” as they are called, now made way for Bohemian grandees, who were understood to entertain more favorable sentiments toward France. Whether in utter despair of the cause for which they had suffered so long and so much, or that they were willing to accept this alliance with the oldest dynasty of Europe as a compromise, I am unable to say; but so was it. Many of the emigré nobility of France, the unflinching, implacable enemies of Bonaparte, consented to bury their ancient grudges, and were now seen accepting place and office in the Austrian household. This was a most artful flattery of the Austrians, and was peculiarly agreeable to Napoleon, who longed to legalize his position by a reconciliation with the old followers of the Bourbons, and who dreaded their schemes and plots far more than he feared all the turbulent violence of the “Faubourg.” In one day, no fewer than three French nobles were appointed to places of trust in the household, and a special courier was sent off to Gratz to convey the appointment of maid of honor to a young French lady who lived there in exile.
Each of my countrymen on arriving came to visit me. They had all known my father by name, if not personally, and most graciously acknowledged me as one of themselves, a flattery they sincerely believed above all price.
I had heard much of the overweening vanity and conceit of the Legitimatists, but the reality far exceeded all my notions of them. There was no pretense, no affectation whatever about them. They implicitly believed that in “accepting the Corsican,” as the phrase went, they were displaying a condescension and self-negation unparalleled in history. The tone of superiority thus assumed, of course made them seem supremely ridiculous to my eyes—I, who had sacrificed heavily enough for the Empire, and yet felt myself amply rewarded. But apart from these exaggerated ideas of themselves, they were most amiable, gentle-mannered, and agreeable.
The ladies and gentlemen of what was called the “Service,” associated all together, dining at the same table, and spending each evening in a handsome suite appropriated to themselves. Hither some one or other of the Imperial family occasionally came to play his whist, or chat away an hour in pleasant gossip; these distinguished visitors never disturbing in the slightest degree the easy tone of the society, nor exacting any extraordinary marks of notice or attention.
The most frequent guest was the Archduke Louis, whose gayety of temperament and easy humor induced him to pass nearly every evening with us. He was fond of cards, but liked to talk away over his game, and make play merely subsidiary to the pleasure of conversation. As I was but an indifferent “whister,” but a most admirable [pg 347] auditor, I was always selected to make one of his party.
It was on one of the evenings when we were so engaged, and the Archduke had been displaying a more than ordinary flow of good spirits and merriment, a sudden lull in the approving laughter, and a general subsidence of every murmur, attracted my attention. I turned my head to see what had occurred, and perceived that all the company had risen, and were standing with eyes directed to the open door.
“The Archduchess, your Imperial Highness!” whispered an aid-de-camp to the Prince, and he immediately rose from the table, an example speedily followed by the others. I grasped my chair with one hand, and with my sword in the other, tried to stand up, an effort which hitherto I had never accomplished without aid. It was all in vain—my debility utterly denied the attempt. I tried again, but overcome by pain and weakness, I was compelled to abandon the effort, and sink down on my seat, faint and trembling. By this time the company had formed into a circle, leaving the Archduke Louis alone in the middle of the room; I, to my increasing shame and confusion, being seated exactly behind where the Prince stood.
There was a hope for me still; the Archduchess might pass on through the rooms without my being noticed. And this seemed likely enough, since she was merely proceeding to the apartments of the Empress, and not to delay with us. This expectation was soon destined to be extinguished; for, leaning on the arm of one of her ladies, the young Princess came straight over to where Prince Louis stood. She said something in a low voice, and he turned immediately to offer her a chair; and there was I seated, very pale, and very much shocked at my apparent rudeness. Although I had been presented before to the young Archduchess, she had not seen me in the uniform of the Corps de Guides (in which I now served as colonel), and never recognized me. She therefore stared steadily at me, and turned toward her brother as if for explanation.