^RANCIS JOSEPH OF AUSTRIA
•
I? BY-THE-AUTHOR'OF I
I- MART YRDOM-OF-AN'EMPRE SS
/
OF CALIF. LIBRAEYfJ LOS ANGELES
A KEYSTONE
OF EMPIRE
FRANCIS JOSEPH OF AUSTRIA
BY THE AUTHOR OF
"THE MARTYRDOM OF
AN EMPRESS"
ILLUSTRATED
HARPER £r BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1903
Copyright, 1903, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
AU rights reserved.
Published November, 1903
TO HIS MAJESTY
FRANCIS-JOSEPH, EMPEROR-KING OF AUSTRO-HUNGARY
IN MEMORY OF FORMER DAYS
Remembering all the beauty of that star
Which shone so close beside Thee that ye made
One light together, but has past, and leaves
The Crown a lonely splendor.
1SI
2128687
ILLUSTRATIONS
FRANCIS-JOSEPH Frontispiece
ERGHCRZOG CARL LUDWIG Facing p. l6
EMPEROR FRANCIS I. (GRANDFATHER OF FRANCIS-
JOSEPH) AND EMPRESS CAROLINE IN THE IM-
PERIAL BOX AT THE THEATRE .... 28
A "BALL-BEI-HOF" AT THE BURG 38
THE EMPEROR'S BAPTISM OF FIRE AT SANTA LUCIA " 46
FRANCIS-JOSEPH IN 1848 98
A SPEECH FROM THE THRONE 122
EMPEROR FRANCIS-JOSEPH IN HIS ROBES OF STATE 158
THE "WASHING OF THE FEET," ON THURSDAY OF
HOLY WEEK, IN THE GREAT HALL OF CERE-
MONIES AT THE HOFBURG 168
THE CORPUS CHRISTI PROCESSION 178
THE EMPEROR'S PRIVATE HALL OF AUDIENCE ~|
IN THE HOFBURG j> " 22O
SCHLOSS LAXENBURG J
"ERZSI," ARCHDUCHESS ELIZABETH NOW PRIN-
CESS OTTO VON WINDISCHGRATZ — GRAND-
DAUGHTER OF THE EMPEROR 244
ARCHDUKE RAINER " 266
A LITTLE PETITIONER " 282
THE EMPEROR'S PRIVATE SALON IN THE HOFBURG " 298
A FUTURE EMPEROR. ARCHDUKE KARL-FRANZ,
SON OF THE HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE, ARCHDUKE
OTTO " 3IO
V
A mighty Keystone shouldering up the span
Of a gray arch of Empire, while below
Threatens a torrent black and fierce of flow
That ill-wrought masonry uncouth of plan.
All strange, dissimilar stones the quarry can
Yield, East or Southward, in a helpless row
Let ponderously their great bulks inward go
And lean upon it, bearing like a man.
Pray Heaven it hold! and when Time crumble it
May naught unworthy take that high command
But granite strengthened by the shock of seas.
And thus true-centred, well and firmly knit
Austria, by ages honored, still withstand
The crush and turmoil of the centuries.
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
CHAPTER I
THE great park was smiling with the new, clean-
washed radiance of spring, under a velvety blue sky,
seen through the tender foliage of veteran trees, stretch-
ing their mighty arms greedily towards the golden sun-
rays.
On the mossy edge of a fountain stood a baby — rosy,
chubby, golden -haired, and blue-eyed — peering intently
into the transparent water, wherein the squat body of
a big, green frog reposed comfortably upon a miniature
bowlder, his round, topaz eyes gleaming just above the
surface.
Plainly the frog was sunk in a deep reverie, revolving
in his round, flat head queer, mysterious water secrets,
and regretful memories of long, lazy summer days spent
amid the tangle of oozy weeds carpeting his native
brook. Now, alas! he was old and cynical and heavy,
contemptuously silent, and quite undisturbed by the
gay little figure so perilously balanced on the slippery
bastions of his splendid prison.
The baby, fascinated by the yellow, glittering eyes of
the monster, extended a dimpled, pink -palmed hand,
and, bending forward, tried to touch ever so gently the
top of the shining, partly immersed head. Almost was
the deed accomplished, almost had the little fingers
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caressed the imperturbable water-god, a soft, purling,
victorious laugh thrilled the morning quiet ; then came
a splash, a cry of terror, and the future high and puissant
Emperor of Austro-Hungary lay on his little round nose,
at the bottom of the fountain!
The water-plants rocked with a violence hitherto
quite unknown to those decorous, admirably tended
growths, while scores of birds, with a loud whir of
startled wings, rose from their twittering councils in
the scented thickets hard by; finches, nightingales,
robins, and even gray -clad, ubiquitous little sparrows
raising alike shrill cries of amazement and alarm, and
for a short moment the out-door world stood still as
though time had ceased to be while the fate of a great
empire, and that of a tiny, dimpled toddler, hung in the
balance. Then the sound of hurried feet came down
a shaded avenue, where the sun, glancing through dainty
clouds of tender green, dappled the gravel -path with
rosy spots, and a young gardener's assistant, attracted
by the cries of the birds and moved by an inexplicable
but overwhelming impulse, ran straight to where the
white form of the little Archduke still feebly struggled
among the lily-pads.
With a wildly beating heart, and a choking sensation
in his throat, he snatched the half -drowned mite from
the water, and ran at full speed towards the castle, where
the careless attendants who had allowed the child to
stray away had already given the alarm, for a knot of
people were running excitedly down the marble steps
of the upper terraces, and crying out confusedly to one
another, as if almost distraught.
One tall, graceful figure, however, guided by an
unerring mother-instinct, flew down the path taken by
the young gardener and his precious burden, and Arch-
duchess Sophia, with her beautiful hair streaming loose
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upon her shoulders, her face white and haggard, her
trembling lips unable to form a word, stretched implor-
ing arms towards the lad, her usual icy, proud composure
completely shattered by overpowering anguish.
"He is not hurt, Kaiserliche Hoheit, not a bit the
worse," he shouted joyfully, thrusting the boy into his
mother's arms; and then, smitten with a sudden, paralyz-
ing shyness, which made the blood tingle like fire through
his veins, he turned on his heel and, without waiting
for thanks or reward, ran off as fast as he could put foot
to the ground.
*********
*********
On the 1 8th of August, 1830, a salute of one hundred
and one guns had proclaimed to the good citizens of
Vienna that yet another Prince had been born to the
Imperial House of Habsburg. Later on the Wiener
Zeitung published a bulletin of which the following is a
literal translation:
"Her Imperial Highness Archduchess Sophia, wife of his
Imperial Highness Archduke Franz-Karl, and daughter-in-law
of his Imperial Majesty Francis I., has been happily delivered
of a son at the Imperial Palace of Schonbrunn. Her Imperial
Highness and the Imperial Babe are both in a satisfactory
condition. The christening will take place to-morrow at the
Palace of Schonbrunn, and will be followed by a Cercle."
The birth of this particular little Archduke was greeted
with joy not only by the Emperor's loyal subjects, but
by the entire House of Habsburg, for obvious reasons.
To begin with, the then reigning Emperor, Francis I., had
never been robust, for ever since the injuries received
by him at the battle of Lugos, during the war with the
Turks, to which he had in 1788 accompanied his uncle
and predecessor Emperor Joseph, his chest had remained
3
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
delicate, and it was always greatly feared lest any
shock or overstrain of the nerves or the brain should
precipitate him into the grave, leaving the throne vacant
for his weak-minded and unpopular son Ferdinand,
who had no issue, and was looked upon as a most un-
desirable successor to his kind-hearted and conscientious
father. Nor were the people of Austro-Hungary, or, for
the matter of that, the Imperial Family, very eager to
see Ferdinand's younger brother, Archduke Franz-Karl,
assume the reins of government should it become nec-
essary to pass over the former, for, although the most
upright and just of men, his tastes were far more quiet
and domestic than political, and he was of so very kindly
a disposition that his heart always overruled his head;
not the best of recommendations for a monarch beneath
whose sceptre a score of different races and peoples
exist, creating and fomenting unceasing conflicts, which
can alone be subdued by an iron hand in a vefvet glove.
It will, therefore, be readily understood that the neces-
sity for a fit and proper heir to the heavy Dual Crown
was bitterly felt, and hence the rejoicing occasioned by
the birth of Francis-Joseph, who, none doubted, would be
brought up in every particular as an Emperor should
be by his mother, the shrewd, clever, and determined
Archduchess Sophia; a maitresse femme if ever there
was one.
Myriads of roses were glowing upon the velvety lawns of
Schonbrunn and the warm beams of summer sun danced
on the tall jets of the fountains in the Pleasaunce, when
the handsome, vigorous, Archducal baby was for the
first time carried into open air. Beside the stately,
Junoesque wet-nurse in her gorgeous Tyrolese costume,
proudly bearing in her arms the white chrysalis from
which an emperor would presently emerge, walked no
less a personage than Francis I. himself, his pale, drawn
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fage transfigured by a profound and all - engrossing
tenderness — the sincerest, deepest, purest feeling of his
whole existence — as he gazed through its soft, snowy
lace veils at the small, pink visage of his grandson.
Day by day he accompanied the baby to the gardens,
and thus in that lovely place and season began what
was to become a very touching companionship between
the weary, disappointed, deeply embittered sovereign
and the tiny mite destined to inherit the crown which
he himself had found so truly one of thorns.
The two were seldom far apart, and as soon as the
child could walk he found no readier playfellow, no
more patient attendant than his beloved Grot — a charm-
ing corruption of the as yet unpronounceable Gross-
vater — over whom he could tyrannize to his heart's
content. Indeed, a disposition less sweet might have
been totally ruined by such an adoring affection as that
lavished upon him by the doting old man; but little
" Franzi "was an exception to the general rule, and passed
unscathed through the trying ordeal, despite his mother's
gloomy prognostications. It was a touching sight to
watch the spare, stooping figure of the monarch bend
yet lower to put himself on the level of the child, or to
see his stern blue eyes softening and smiling, and his
usually knitted brows smooth themselves under his
silver locks when the little one appeared on the scene.
The old Emperor was passionately fond of birds and
flowers, and he initiated his little grandson at the ear-
liest possible age into the mysteries of natural history
and botany — not, however, the cruel, insensate sciences
which prompt the student to tear apart the satiny
petals of delicate blooms in order to dissect their tender
hearts, or to pull to pieces the velvet wings of butter-
flies, and the emerald corselets of rose-beetles while they
still live and flutter, or after they have been done to
5
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
death with ammonia, ether, or— worse yet— with tort-
uring pins that have fastened their poor little quivering
bodies to corks for long days of agony. No! No!
Francis I., whom historians, especially German ones,
have not hesitated to accuse of utter heartlessness,
harshness, craftiness, and a decided leaning towards
refined cruelty, would not have hurt an insect or even a
flower for any consideration.
His favorite playgrounds for his little grandson were in
winter the magnificent winter-gardens, communicating
with the private apartments at the Hofburg, and in sum-
mer the gorgeous parks and greenhouses of Schonbrunn
and Laxenburg, where the quaintly assorted pair devoted
many hours to floriculture. Often they would walk all
alone and hand in hand under the grand elms and walnut-
trees of the Imperial Park, watching wonderful nature —
the pale primroses peeping through dark mosses, the tur-
quoise wings of the blue-jays fluttering in the branches,
the shy, brown squirrels swinging among the hazel-bush-
es, and the gold-fish, glowing like flames or animated
jewels, everlastingly touring in the gigantic fountain-
basin, where " Franzi " had nearly found his death. In-
deed, this last was one of their greatest delights, and when
the greedy swarm opened and shut their bland, cavernous
mouths in catching crumbs, and swallowed them with a
coldly contented flicker of their gold-rimmed eyes, the
little boy's laughter would ring out in ecstasy and be
echoed by the low, repressed merriment of his much-
pleased Grot.
Poor Archduchess Sophia! even her omnipotence
stopped short of the power required to separate these
two, although she employed her finest strategy and her
cleverest plannings and plottings to that end, for she
was greatly alarmed lest her beloved boy should escape
from under her Spartan rule, and be over-indulged and
6
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
encouraged to disobey her by that meek Autocrat, his
Most Catholic Majesty, Francis I. But the bond be-
tween " Franzi " and his Grot proved unbreakable, and
remained so until death closed the sad, tired eyes of the
fond old grandfather, whom his subjects called the
People's Emperor, because he was truly their spiritual
father, in spite of all that the. jaundiced works of Hor-
mayr and others may say to the contrary.
Archduchess Sophia was at that time a beautiful
woman, possessed of supreme distinction and of that
dignity of bearing which is the appanage of ancient
lineage and of long traditions of courtesy and culture.
Her every gesture was harmonious and reposeful, and
her cameo-like features bore a calm, proud, cold ex-
pression, denoting perfect self-reliance. In her character
an inextinguishable thirst for power, a disposition to
exercise too despotic a will and to show herself con-
temptuous of any dictates but her own, and a distinct
leaning towards intolerance, were curiously blended with
a strong sense of duty and responsibility that rendered
her unsparing of herself and untiring in her numerous
charities.
"Sophia," her father-in-law once said, "has it in her
to be a second Maria-Theresa. She brooks no con-
tradiction, no opposition of any kind. She is overbear-
ing and autocratic; but even her faults are noble ones,
and had I myself had a few such the country would have
greatly benefited thereby!"
Indeed, the Archduchess would have been an ideal
ruler for a realm so difficult to keep in order as Austro-
Hungary, for she would have known without a per-
adventure how to repress and discourage all tendencies
to revolt and rioting long ere the time when grave
revolutionary outbreaks sapped the very foundations
of the Empire.
7
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Her undeniable nobility of temper, her inexorable
pride and stem clearness of judgment, clothed her in an
unyielding armor, and she serenely pursued her way in
life unhampered by any feminine weakness of mind or
body, walking as it were in the gratifying conviction
that she at least could do no wrong. That this convic-
tion carried her too far at times is sufficiently known.
It has often been said that she was unscrupulous. This
she was not in any ordinary sense, and as for the political
interpretation of the word, everybody knows that its
extreme elasticity permits any historical scribbler to
stretch it enough to cover offences against his own
personal tastes and opinions. Indeed, there is no mas-
ter of statecraft, no energetic and painstaking prime-
minister, or for the matter of that no successful politician
of whatsoever color or inclination, who has not been
laid under this accusation.
A hard, cold, determined woman, if you will, was
Archduchess Sophia, who would have been sufficiently
remarkable in any age for her total lack of gentleness and
softness, and was much more so in a time of vaporous,
languorous femininities; a woman more likely to be
feared and admired than loved even in her own im-
mediate family ; a woman capable of causing the greatest
pain to those nearest to her, by her firm belief in the
superiority of her own judgment, and her steady resolu-
tion to uphold it against any other; but a woman of a
large and fine moral mould, in no way paltry or mean.
Moreover, she was certainly neither the remorseless in-
trigante nor the Machiavellian schemer she has been
represented to be.
Her excessive severity, fortunately for little " Franzi,"
was counter - balanced by the infinite tenderness and
boundless leniency displayed towards him by the lad's
Imperial grandfather, and was still further mitigated
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tf
by the absolute adoration of the child's father, Archduke
Franz-Karl.
The accepted opinion about this Prince will have it
that he was a rather colorless, insignificant gentleman,
solicitous only about his own comfort, decidedly self-
ish, and so remarkably eager to avoid any exertion,
trouble, or fatigue that he allowed himself to pass for
a total nonentity. This, as a matter of fact, is a
very unfair and unjust portrayal of the generous, gold-
en-hearted man who throughout a long life abhorred
the very idea of giving pain to others. Moreover, his
intense and bitterly criticised love of peace, and his
much-derided dread of any sort of quarrel, were without
a doubt engendered by the terror which filled his earliest
recollections of those dreadful days in 1805 and 1807
when Napoleon drove the Imperial Family of Habsburg
from their beloved city of Vienna — at the point of the
sword, as one might say. From these troubled times
of his childhood the winning sweetness of his ways also
took its origin. Indeed, far from being self-centred or
an egotist, he was most wonderfully unselfish, living
entirely for his wife and children, and making it his
continual occupation to render them happier than any
mortals have a right to be in this sad world of ours.
He had in his nature not a trace of the cold, forbidding
haughtiness which is popularly supposed to be one of
the characteristics of Royal and Imperial personages, nor
did he confuse dignity with that stiffness suggestive of
"having swallowed a ramrod," as do, alas! but too
frequently those to whom dignity is but a laboriously
acquired attitude — a matter of mere pose. He was
invariably courteous to high and low alike, but his
reserve of manner was singularly impenetrable, and his
mode of speech gave one the impression of a gentle and
sustained indifference to all that did not touch his
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beloved ones. In short, he might have been summarized
by that strangely pathetic appellation which so often
calls forth the ridicule and merriment of the crowd — a
dreamer.
With his little son, Archduke Franz-Karl, like his
Imperial father, became the merest child, thoroughly
happy with all a child's pleasure in a long day spent
in the woods, a search after wild flowers or autumn
berries, or in any other simple amusement pertaining
to the Golden Age of Youth ; and in these pursuits there
was true companionship between them, for so far from
having to descend to the child's level, as Emperor Fran-
cis had done, he did but follow the bent of his own spirit.
His love of nature was a part of himself, an inborn,
Hellenic sympathy, which is something entirely different
from the pose of the individual who thinks to do honor
to his own cleverness by patronizingly commending
the works of the Almighty; and different also from that
of the botanizing fiend who, with his tin canister at his
back and his pompous Latin jargon, depoetizes the very
essence of nature's poetry.
Archduke Franz-Karl quietly enjoyed the beauty of
the out-door world, feeling himself thoroughly akin to
all that grew or moved in it, all that rejoiced in the
sunshine and flavored of the soil, whether flower or
beast or man. He was familiar with every mountain
or forest blossom, and had the love begotten of knowl-
edge and long acquaintance for all the furred and feath-
ered life of the woodlands, as well as for the stalwart
Scnner and Sennerinnen of his favorite summer re-
treats in Upper Austria and Tyrol.
One day as little " Franzi "— then a boy nearly five
years old— was wandering with his father under the
budding trees of the park at Schonbrunn, the child,
spying in the young grass the first tuft of violets, de-
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lightedly fell on his knees, and, kissing the flowers glee-
fully, exclaimed, in his pretty, uncertain German:
" Willkommen, Ihr hiibsche, Ihr susse ! Gott segne
euch !" (Welcome, you pretty, you sweet! God bless
you !)
A sound of contemptuous laughter came from the
neighboring shrubbery, and Archduchess Sophia, twirl-
ing a rose-lined sunshade on her shoulder, pushed aside
the supple boughs of a copper-beech, and stood before
them.
"You ridiculous child!" she exclaimed, with some
impatience. "A fine thing for a future soldier to
fraternize with budding violets!"
Crimson with shame, the bonny little lad jumped to
his feet, and gazed at the tiny, nodding blossoms through
fast-gathering tears.
"Weine nicht, Herzchen!" said his father, bending
caressingly over him, " Mutzerl meint es dock nicht!"
An ominous frown contracted the Archduchess's del-
icately pencilled brows, and her lips parted for further
reproof, but closed immediately, her better nature gain-
ing the upper hand. Stooping quickly she lifted the
child from the ground, and drawing his curly head upon
her shoulder, she soothed him with that graceful ten-
derness to which she, unfortunately, but infrequently
gave expression, and which transformed her ordinarily
impassive face as a bright sun-ray transforms a clear
and colorless ice-crystal into a thing of transcendent
beauty.
A scene from a story-book, say you? Not so! An
incident that actually occurred.
It is a very thankless task, a weary undertaking, to
tell the true history of a romantic life. For there are
many who invariably conclude that one is disregard-
ing truth for effect — which is humiliating indeed; and
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therefore too often, alas! the scribe— like the artist who
does not dare, when setting his palette, to approach the
gorgeous coloring of nature, the dazzling gold of an
Oriental sunset, or the flaming hues of tropical blos-
soms—hesitates to relate the real, the live, the palpi-
tating, or even the mere simple touching incidents
which 'go to make up the existences of royal person-
ages past or present.
At ten years of age Francis-Joseph was a handsome
boy, fair of skin and slender of form, though very strong
and supple from living much out-of-doors. His bright
amber hair curled on his low, broad forehead, and his
eyes were big, honest, fearless, and of the exact hue of a
forget-me-not. He was tall for his age, and possessed to
a supreme degree that air of refinement and distinction for
which his mother was remarkable, and which, as I have
already said, though not always the result of a patri-
cian ancestry, is, however, rarely derived from any other
source. Full of high spirits, there was something charm-
ing and contagious in his frank gayety, which was quite
devoid of boisterousness, and rarely made him forget,
despite a quick and impulsive temper, that an absolute
and chivalrous courtesy is the first duty of a prince.
Somehow or other he never worried anybody, as he
was neither wayward nor imperious, but so considerate
that his attendants were loud in his praise, and though
by no means that horror of horrors, a model child, he
had a knack of endearing himself at once and forever
to those who had the fortune of meeting him intimately.
Of course, in spite of all this, he thoroughly well knew
that he was a little man of considerable importance,
to whom everybody rendered homage, and whose tiny
hand was kissed by gray-haired Ministers of State and
great nobles ; but adulation had no bad effect upon him,
thanks to his affectionate, sensitive nature, and his
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almost alarming swiftness in self-reproach and self-
discontent, if I may use such a word.
Sports of all kinds delighted him. At eight years of
age he rode his pony with consummate grace and skill,
swam like an otter, was a sure and well-drilled shot at
the target or running mark, and could use crampons and
alpenstock with the same felicity as any mountaineer
of his own beloved Tyrol.
In the Tyrol it was that from his earliest childhood he
found his greatest joys; for long since his grandfather's
and his father's love of nature had appeared in him.
"A dreamer of dreams," his mother — who could never
appreciate this side of his character — called him, and
so, indeed, he may be said to have remained his life
long — not in the sense of an indolent idealist, for none
have worked harder nor more conscientiously than he,
but in that of a temperament keenly alive to the beauti-
ful in every form, satisfied with simple amusements, and
incapable of ennui when thrown upon its own resources.
Then as now he was ready to fly back to the tall hills
and lofty peaks which he loved so dearly, and there,
surrounded by the precipices black with pine and fir
shelving dizzily downward, and wrapped about by the
utter silence of the high ranges — broken only by the
ripple of water or the distant tinkle and rustle of
avalanches on the upper snows — drink deep draughts of
solitude and delicious loneliness.
It was but natural that this little lad, drawn as he
was so irresistibly to the romantic and the ideal, should
love to wander in the winter twilight through the great
panelled and tapestried galleries of the Hofburg, in
order to watch the gleam of the rising moon filter
through long, lancet windows painted by Jacob of Ulm
and Selier of Landshut in the days of long ago, or to
gaze dreamily at the grim figures in full armor keeping
13
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their rigid and eternal vigil under the gorgeous, gold-
broidered banners adorning the walls in the Rittersaal.
Natural, also, though prophetically strange, that he
should be devoted to the worship of St. Elizabeth of
Hungary, that gracious and poetic figure which after
so many centuries was to find reincarnation in the
woman to whom, " malgre tout ce que I' on peut dire," the
years of his manhood gave so deep and true a tenderness,
the only woman, indeed, he really has loved as love
should be loved.
A picture representing the noble wife of Louis of Hesse
with the miraculous roses in her lap was one of the most
cherished possessions of his childhood, and to this day
it hangs above the narrow camp-bed which he invariably
uses.
Yet through the tissue of all his winning and lovable
qualities, his softness of heart and tender, affectionate
nature, ran the strong strain of his maternal inheritance,
like a clear breath of mountain wind through the sweet
fragrance of flowers. This showed itself especially in
his total lack of self-consciousness, in his honesty of
purpose, and the brave, quiet determination that marked
him as one who in after-times should be of those who
may be broken but never defeated, and who amid
misfortunes may say with the poet :
"Beneath the bludgeonings of Chance
My head is bloody, but not bowed."
His extreme consideration for others and great gen-
erosity became apparent almost simultaneously with his
acquisition of speech, and the following little anecdote
may illustrate what I mean :
One day when he was not yet quite four years old
he had followed his grandfather into the great tapestried
hall where State papers were daily brought for the
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Imperial signature. Even at that time the child was in
harmony with his royal surroundings, as he pattered
about with the golden light of the sun falling through
the painted panes of the immense windows upon his
curly pate, his round, rosy face, big blue eyes, and the
dove-hued velvets and laces of his little frock. The tiny
feet were noiseless on the thick, purple carpet, and he
trotted around, joyful and unhindered, stopping from
time to time to examine the priceless vases, groups of
bronze figures, and exquisite statues standing here and
there upon tables and consoles. Suddenly in the deep
embrasure of one of the windows he discovered the
sword of the General- A djudant on duty. Fascinated
by the shimmering tassels of the porte-epee and by the
possibilities of so novel a plaything, he pounced upon it,
bestrode the sword, seized the golden cords and tassels
in his chubby hands, and, using them as reins, began to
gallop up and down, clapping his pink tongue energet-
ically to encourage his charger. The Emperor silently
indicated the boy's characteristic performance to his
companion, and a wistful look came into his eyes, for
he realized perchance that this delicious period of baby-
hood was almost at an end — always a sorrow for those
who really love their children.
With a sudden impulse of the joy and mastery of pos-
session, "Franzi" gave his mount a decidedly vicious
jerk, which tore apart the delicately wrought porte-epee
and caused the great sword to fall at his feet with a terri-
fying rattle of steel. Consternation depicted on his little
face, where the color had suddenly deepened, and big tears
gathering in his "forget-me-not" eyes, he stood trans-
fixed and completely overcome by the magnitude of his
crime. For a moment he remained thus; then the two
men, watching him covertly, saw him slowly pick up
the dismantled sabre and drag it to where its inwardly
15
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
much-entertained owner stood at the Emperor's elbow.
Up went the dimpled hands bearing their heavy burden,
and from the piteously trembling lips came this as-
tonishing and consoling sentence :
4 ' Weine nicht ! Franzi wird's bezahlen wann er einmal
Kaiser ist!" (Don't cry! "Franzi" will pay for it
when he is Emperor!)
"Franzi's" intercourse with his brothers was not as
free as is usually the case when there is but a trifling
difference of age. This was due to the fact that his
education was directed entirely by his mother and on
wholly different lines from theirs, which the father had
now taken completely under his own charge. Of course
during the summer months the boys romped together
a good deal, but as soon as the Imperial Family returned
to Vienna, or even Schonbrunn, the curious estrangement,
separating them as virtually as if they lived miles apart,
was resumed.
The brother he loved best was Ferdinand-Maximilian,
who, only two years younger than himself, was best fit-
ted to be his companion, and from the moment when the
child had begun to walk "Franzi," when he was allow-
ed to be with him, had been careful of his every step,
jealous of his affection, and had tended him with untir-
ing tenderness, risking, indeed, more than once, life and
limb to bring him down from the mountains some covet-
ed flower or bit of tinted quartz.
Little Ferdinand was a quaint child if ever there was
one, and of a serious, mild, yielding disposition, which,
alas! was to prove his undoing in later years, when, to
satisfy the mad ambition of his Belgian wife, he accepted
the crown and sceptre of Mexico.
Karl-Ludwig, who was a year younger than Ferdinand,
was not, like him, gentle and quiet, but singularly
opinionated, masterful, and eager to get his own way in
16
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
everything; "a proud, rebellious child," as his mother
would say. He never, however, had "Franzi's" daring
and skill in sports, and from the first he did not have
what one calls un charactere facile. Years and educa-
tion failed to change him, but only "combed his hide"
and gave him a silken coat of dignity and self-com-
, mand which sufficed at most times to conceal much
roughness and narrowness of mind. Moreover, he was
very single-minded in all he did and thought. He was
pleased or displeased with people and with things,
recognized no half - tints or half - measures, and was
equally ready to give his life up for his friends and to
consign his enemies to the tortures of the pit. A
passionate, fiery soul under a rough bark — that was
Karl-Ludwig!
As to Louis- Victor, the youngest of the brood, he was
as yet but a baby, with light yellow curls, big round
blue eyes, and a skin like a pink lily, and he did not
enter into "Franzi's" life excepting in the r61e of an
animated doll, with which he was occasionally allowed
to play. Moreover, this littlest one of all was the
darling and favorite of his aunt Empress Maria-Anna,
who monopolized him and dreaded to see his brothers
romp with the delicate, often ailing, child.
Poor Empress! her life was a colorless one, without
great joys or deep sorrows, but unspeakably dreary in
its childless monotony. Delicate and fragile, she took
no pleasures in the sports so dear to all Austrian
women, while her Italian heart unceasingly mourned
the Court of her father, King Victor Emanuel of Sar-
dinia, where she had lived in a warm and sensuous
atmosphere, fragrant with flowers and enlivened by
witty gossip. To her the feudal etiquette of the Hof-
burg, and the long northern winters seemed alike very
terrible, and she only breathed entirely at ease when
17
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
surrounded exclusively by Italians and priests, which
marked preference naturally caused her to be ex-
tremely unpopular and freely accused of bigotry, and
of wielding a very deleterious influence over her Imperial
husband.
Little Louis-Victor was a veritable godsend to her,
and this one sincere affection was the only really lumi-
nous spot in an existence spent in alternately eating bon-
bons and telling the beads of her rosary. "Franzi"
she did not greatly like, for she was absolutely unable
to comprehend his daring, his intrepidity, his love for
open-air pastimes or his delight in those long, white-
frozen months which she so greatly hated and con-
temptuously called "hyperborean!" "Franzi," she used
to say, "is too full of vitality; it is fatiguing to watch
him!" And when Archduchess Sophia left Vienna for
the summer months the Empress's only regret was that
this Spartan mother should decline to leave "Baby Vic-
tor" with his doting aunt, who spoiled him as it was, a
great deal too much for her taste.
The best time of the year for " Franzi " and his broth-
ers was just those summers spent at Weissenbach on the
Attersee in Upper Austria, one of 'the most beautiful
spots of that surpassingly lovely lake and mountain re-
gion. The divinely blue sheet of water, closed in from
the world by an amphitheatre of pine-clad slopes, sweep-
ing down from the eternal snows, was to the boys a con-
stant source of delight, whether they canoed upon its
gleaming surface, or frolicked and swam in its clean
depths as soon as the snow-fed waters were sufficiently
sun- warmed to allow of such a sport.
In this neighborhood "Franzi's" greatest friend was
the now almost historically celebrated Doppelbauer, rec-
tor of Steinbach, a blunt individual, who prided himself
upon speaking "wie ihm der Schnabel gewachsen war";
18
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tha£ is to say, "just as his beak grew," or, in other
words, very much to the point, and in a remarkably
unconventional manner.
A character was this old man, whose clever, humor-
ous, wrinkled countenance constantly beamed with
good -humor. Of peasant birth, a son of the soil in
heart, soul, and body, he lacked neither shrewdness nor
a certain amount of learning; but a contented spirit,
and a great love for his own place and surroundings,
led him to seek no advancement or favor from the
Church he so faithfully served. His very humble par-
sonage was to him a paradise, a daily cause for self-
congratulation that he had resisted all such tempta-
tions, and his flowers, his orchard, his bee-hives, his
poultry, and his splendidly fat, loudly grunting pigs
were second only in interest to his parishioners.
He had already lived a long and blameless life of true
devotion and some hardship, entailed by the prosecution
of his labors in his rough mountain parish, when the lit-
tle Archduke appeared to brighten his lonely and forced-
ly rather monotonous existence, and the extremely af-
fectionate relations soon established between the slight,
elegant Imperial child and the rubicund old priest were
delightful to witness. The merry, sympathetic boy was
a rare and enchanting companion to Doppelbauer, among
whose virtues toadyism had no place, who was totally
regardless of Court etiquette, and far from feeling that
awe of his future sovereign which might have been ex-
pected of a man of his humble origin and simple life.
Indeed, he treated the child "tout a fait de puissance a
puissance,'" and with the freedom, ease, and sans gene
of a grandfatherly playfellow, loving him with all the
strength of a great simple heart.
Early one morning, in the summer of 1840, "Franzi"
took his way towards his reverend friend's modest abode,
19
A K;EY STONE OF EMPIRE
accompanied only by his favorite dog, a huge, mouse-
colored Dane, whose big, gold-pailleted eyes were con-
stantly fixed on his young master, and whose erect ears
testified to his watchfulness and to his sincere and earnest
consciousness of the responsibility resting upon him as
the boy's trusty guardian. The walk to the parsonage
lay under the cathedral gloom of Siberian pines along
abrupt slopes carpeted by deep, soft, velvety mosses, and
thick fern-brakes, and here and there a narrow brook
made itself heard as it tumbled through the dim green-
ness to fall in foaming cascades into the Attersee far be-
low.
In the priest's garden there was a loud hum of bees
about the old-fashioned stocks, gillyflowers, hollyhocks,
and snap-dragon surrounding great patches of sturdy
cabbages, salads, and pungent onions, while, in a blos-
soming elderberry -bush by the trim fence, a goldfinch
sang at the top of his harmonious little voice.
"Franzi," pausing at the wicket just long enough to
explain to the dog that his size and his big paws would
endanger the "Herr Pfarrer's" fine flowers and vege-
tables, and to console the disappointed attendant with a
kiss on his beseeching nose, ran into the garden with a
face of sunshine.
In a far corner of the enclosure Doppelbauer was
kneeling amid his potatoes, weeding and tending the
promising plants, and truth compels me to add that the
reverend gentleman was excessively grimy, his large,
sunburned hands bearing ample testimony to his labor
amid the rich mould wherein the tubers throve.
"Ho, ho! Is that you, little friend?" he exclaimed,
turning a crimson and perspiring but beaming counte-
nance towards his visitor. "What good wind blew you
here?" Then he added, with a laugh, "I can't shake
hands with you, I'm too dirty."
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
"That's nothing," exclaimed "Franzi," extending his
smooth, pink palm; but, seeing that his beloved "Pfar-
rer" refused to grasp it, a shade of annoyance cloud-
ed his bonny visage, and with a little frown he stooped
quickly, thrust his hand deep into the dark, greasy
earth, and, withdrawing it thoroughly coated with mire,
waved it triumphantly under the nose of his amazed and
delighted host.
"Now," he cried with a laugh, "I'm just as dirty as
you are, and you will have to shake hands!" Which
ceremony was accordingly performed with much enthu-
siasm and merriment on both sides.
They were still chatting to their heart's content about
the fowls and the fruit, the new-laid eggs — which the
young Archduke loved to bring from the nests — and the
tiny green flies threatening the rose-bushes, when they
were suddenly warned by the mid-day bell of the Kaiser-
villa chiming and clanging in the distance, how long a
road, comparatively speaking, lay between the lad and
his dejeuner. Also, an errand intrusted to him by his
mother, but which had, until that moment, entirely es-
caped his memory, was recalled to "Franzi's" mind,
and he said, coaxingly:
" ' Herr Pfarrer,' mamma told me to ask you if you will
dine with us to-night?"
Gravely Doppelbauer shook his large, shaggy head,
wiped his hands upon his blue gardening-apron, and ex-
tracting a " rat -tail " snuff-box from the big, front pocket
thereof, inhaled a generous pinch of "sneezing-powder,"
as "Franzi" called it.
"Won't you come?" the boy asked again, wistfully.
"Atch — chew!" sneezed the priest. "Atch — chew!"
and, after blowing his nose vigorously in a gorgeous red-
and-yellow handkerchief, he answered, roundly:
"No, my boy, I won't come. I've got two fine sau-
21
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
sages and some right ' schmeckhaft' (tasty) sauerkraut
for my supper, and that's much better than the messes
cooked by your grand chef; they do not agree with me
at all. But you can tell your good mother that I'll come
in for dessert. Your coffee is pretty fair, but for the
rest— pfui!" Which peroration was emphasized by a
grimace of the most realistic disgust.
Somewhat disappointed, but smiling to himself at the
thought of what mamma would say to such a very un-
sophisticated mode of declining an invitation, the lit-
tle Archduke turned his face homeward, racing down
through the pine wood which slopes abruptly towards
the flowery lawns of the "Schloss."
Damp and dishevelled from short-cuts through tangled
undergrowth, he burst into his mother's morning-room:
" Der Herr Pfarrer," he panted, "will come after din-
ner. He does not like the cooking here, but he says the
coffee is good, and, do you know, Mutterl, I think he is
quite right."
As usual, when alone with her boy, the Archduchess
thawed, and her grave eyes sparkled with genuine fun.
"The 'Herr Pfarrer,'" she remarked, dryly, "is quite a
connoisseur, and so are you, no doubt! But go now and
change your damp shoes, Bubi. Also, do not bring this
elephantine dog in here. He capsizes everything with
his interminable tail."
When at Weissenbach, I may state here, Archduchess
Sophia was inclined to relax somewhat the severity of
her Spartan rule, and her younger children felt that there
they were far less outside her life. In Vienna, although
never unjust, impatient, or unkind to them, yet her
stern stateliness awed them, and when she attended to
any of their demands upon her they knew by instinct
that her whole heart was not in this accomplishment
of maternal duty; so, very gradually, a slight and for a
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
long time almost imperceptible jealousy of their elder
brother crept into their hearts, from whence it was
never eradicated.
The mother, whose hand caressed "Franzi's" golden
curls, whose lips curved into a welcoming smile when
he came into the room, who listened with exemplary
patience to his stammering Latin, and praised his .still
unformed handwriting, seemed to them a distant god-
dess, proud and inflexible, who often rebuked them with
peremptory and unyielding decision — not as she did to
him, a dear Mutterl or Mutzerl, in whose very strictness
the thoughtful boy had already perceived the best evi-
dence of love. Of a truth, "Franzi" alone aroused in
his mother those softer moods which suited her so well.
She who, although a pious daughter of Rome, would
have bearded the Holy Father himself, and braved the
very thunders of excommunication when her indomi-
table spirit was roused, who would bend her will to none,
who for days on end when offended intrenched herself
in silence and pride, and who was accustomed to twist
human volition like a willow wand in her hand, had
never willingly had a harsh look for her first-born, from
the moment when, in his babyhood, she had soothed
and caressed and amused him, and watched him falling
asleep on her lap with his downy head nestled upon her
breast. He was, indeed, her all, and when, peradvent-
ure, an impatient word escaped her, it was followed by a
throb of intolerable remorse.
There was yet another who escaped the half-terrified
awe which the Archduchess inspired in most persons, and
whom she greatly respected for it, strange as it may ap-
pear. This was the Reverend Doppelbauer.
The excellent old priest arrived that evening in time
'to swallow, with an appreciative smacking of the lips, a
cup of the "pretty fair " coffee he had so condescendingly
23
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
commended earlier in the day. After draining the last
drop, however, he looked pityingly at the tiny Sevres toy
in which it had been served, and, shrugging his heavy
shoulders, remarked:
" Now, what nonsense it is to use such thimbles! I've
got a pint bowl at home that's something like; but this
doesn't even hold enough to tickle the tongue!"
They were quite en famille on the terrace overlooking
the lake; there was the tinkle of coffee-cups, the smell of
cigar-smoke mingling with that of great beds of reseda
and heliotrope. Clinging to the wall of the villa behind
them, two immense climbing roses were all aglow with
crimson and yellow blossoms, and in the distance the
ramparts and bastions and high pinnacles of the moun-
tains glittered under the slanting rays of the setting sun.
Archduke Franz-Karl, stretched peacefully in a long,
cane chair, dandled his youngest son on his knee, and
watching the lithe figure of "Franzi," as the boy ran
down the steps towards the lake, saw, perchance, in his
mind's eye, his grandchildren reigning here when he him-
self would be ever so old, and when " Franzi " would have
long been a puissant monarch. Doppelbauer, sitting by
the open glass door of the now empty dining-room,
blinked into his cup with ludicrous disappointment, and
repeated, ruefully:
"Ah, yes; hardly enough to tickle the tongue!"
Archduchess Sophia walked across to him with a full
cup in her hand. She was dressed in white, and pearls —
these unassuming gems of demi-toilette — were wound
round her throat; her beautiful hair was very simply
but very perfectly arranged, and she was smiling gayly.
"Come 'Herr Pfarrer'!" she said, indulgently. "I
am going to prevent you from committing the sin of
covetousness, at least for the present. Drink this, and
when you want some more, I'll fill it again for you."
24
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
^Oh, good Doppelbauer, did you at this instant realize
that a daughter and mother of kings was waiting upon
you ? It did not seem so, for, with a hearty laugh, of the
quality which the French so graphically describe as un
rire gras, he coolly exchanged cups, and allowed the
greatly entertained Archduchess to carry away the
empty "thimble" of precious china, calling after her,
cheerily:
"Ha, Imperial Highness, all I ever covet are eatables!
That's only half a sin."
She laughed too, and sat down on a low, cushioned
chair to watch the glorious harvest - moon rise
above the mountains. At her feet lay the great,
glancing sheet of water, and the wonderful evening light
seemed to have a voice that blended with the silvery
tones of the church-bell ringing the "Angelus" behind
the pine-crested slopes of a high hill on the left. The
scene was strangely poetical, the lovely night aimed at
an atmosphere of tenderness, of almost reverent ro-
mance, and with it mingled, ethereal and mysteriously
pathetic, the sweet scent of nature in night's silent hours.
Suddenly, on the swiftly brightening luminous path
made by Dame Luna upon the bosom of the lake, a tiny
canoe, rocking violently, appeared. In it stood, paddle
in hand, the venturesome "Franzi," swinging recklessly
from side to side, and evidently enchanted with the illu-
sion of being tempest-tossed which he was producing for
himself.
Archduchess Sophia rose to her feet with a blanched,
frightened face.
"Oh, 'Herr Pfarrer,' please shout to 'Franzi' not to
do that!" she exclaimed, evidently relying on the old
man's superior power of lung.
He lazily turned his bullet head, glanced at the little
boat madly rolling about, watched for a minute the
su
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
_pple inclinations from right to left of the graceful
figure poised perilously on its narrow thwarts, and re-
sponded, in broad patois:
" Ach! Wenn er amal Kaiser is, wird no mehr uber
eahm komma, an wanner jetzt einfallt zarrn ma'n
scho'aussa." (When he is once Emperor nothing will
touch him more, and if he now falls in we can easily get
him out.)
Alas for the worthy priest's prophecy! How many
were the things hidden in the future, that were to touch,
and touch bitterly and keenly, the boy rocking so hap-
pily in the canoe!
In the charming gardens of the " Kaiservilla " at
Weissenbach was a kiosque overlooking the lake, a small,
low building made of carved, fretted, and fragrant red
pine, surmounted by a pointed, thatched roof overrun
with jasmine and roses. Long locks of mauve and
white wistaria tumbled down its sides, heavy with the
weight of bloom they supported, and rustled odorously
in the light summer wind, or humbly drooped their
glittering, tearful petals when one of the dense showers,
which are the rule rather than the exception in those re-
gions, came to freshen the earth. It was reached by
winding paths curving between tall syringa, laburnum,
lilac, and rhododendron bushes, and was a place always
abounding in three beautiful things — silence, flowers,
and perfume.
Here it was that every morning "Franzi" sat at his
lessons with one or other of his instructors. There were
not many sights or sounds without to distract his atten-
tion save the ripple of the blue lake, faint bird-songs
among the shadows of the gardens, a shepherd seen on
the opposite mountain's flank driving his flock before
him, and perhaps yodling melodiously to the drowsy
echoes, or a peasant woman returning to her chalet with
26
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
a gigantic bundle of fresh-cut grass poised upon her
shapely head. The task done, all that paradise was his
to range, but still to him the hours of study were not a
time of penance, and he willingly bent his curly pate
above ponderous tomes and absorbing exercises.
At the Hofburg his " school-room " was not so poetical,
and yet Archduchess Sophia, who believed, and rightly
so, that a child's artistic taste and comprehension should
be developed by his surroundings as early as possible, in-
variably devoted to this use, not as is generally the case
even for little Royal boys and girls, a plainly, nay, an
oft meagrely furnished room, with glaring maps in lieu
of mural decoration, and ink-stained tables supporting
ill -bound volumes of the most discouraging aspect, but a
room panelled and ceiled with oak, carved in dead-and-
gone days by Schuferstein. Two great tapestries of
Marc de Comans faced the Imperial boy's writing-table,
which itself was a masterpiece of Buhl, and the atmos-
phere was kept warm and mellow by a brilliant fire of
cedar logs burning day and night in a monumental
polychrome stove of fifteenth-century make, with beau-
tifully tinted tiled steps guarded by two wolves ex-
quisitely carved in green bronze. Also there were
always vases filled with hot - house blossoms on the
centre-table — the only touch of femininity about this
stately apartment which people enamored of French
gilding, gay hangings, and plush - covered furniture
would assuredly have criticised as somewhat too severe
in style for a child's study.
The Imperial boy from the very first loved his lessons
in history, his eyes shining like stars when he heard of
some grand deed, some heroic action. Rudolph von
Habsburg and Wallenstein were among his favorite his-
torical characters — soldiers being always foremost in his
esteem — and he could have listened to the records of their
27
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
magnificent bravery from "Matins" to "Ave-Maria"
during the long winter days when the snow fell with
gentle pertinacity upon the grim, gray courts of the
"Burg," or the wind howled around its thick, granite
walls in a fitting accompaniment to the recital of these
Homeric combats.
Thus was passed a singularly happy and peaceful
childhood, under the wisest of regimens, with simple
fare, and an almost total absence of the amusements
we are accustomed to associate with the life of the
great of this world, but beautified instead by harmless
pastimes and out -door sports and occupations amid
the pure Alpine air. Surrounded, during six months
out of every twelve, by scenes so germane to his sunny
nature, and forming so fitting a background to the gay
dreams of a lively boyish fancy, the little Archduke
grew towards maturity sound in body, soul, and brain.
When Archduke Franz attained his twelfth year, his
mother decided that his baby name of "Franzi" should
now be dropped and replaced by "Franz," tout court, as
an indication that he had left childhood behind him and
had entered adolescence. From that day on, too, she
had her younger children brought to her more often,
drove out with them occasionally, inquired into their
studies, their amusements, their pastimes, their com-
forts, habits, and even their playthings, and, wonder of
wonders, now and again at the twilight hour they were
allowed to sit at her feet, playing, or listening to the
legends and stories which she excelled in telling. But,
nevertheless, her pride and her hopes dwelt as ever in
her fair-haired first-born, whom she already saw bearing
the weight and glory of the Dual Crown.
In spite of her stoicism, however, she, like any other
loving mother, suffered acutely from this change, and
notwithstanding her eagerness to urge on by all possible
28
EMPEROR FRANCIS I. (GRANDFATHER OF FRANCIS - JOSEPH)
AND EMPRESS CAROLINE IN THE IMPERIAL
BOX AT THE THEATRE
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
means the moment when the lad she was so proud of
should reach full manhood, and therefore be ready to
ascend the steps of the throne, yet she felt deeply,
almost cruelly, regretful of the days when he had been
all her own, her little, curly-headed darling, coming to be
consoled for small troubles and small pains within the
shelter of her arms.
When Emperor Francis had died in 1835 sne had
breathed a sigh of relief, for she had always dreaded
what she called his "effeminating influence" upon his
favorite grandson; and when watching the child's almost
abnormal grief at that moment, when hearing him sob-
bing aloud almost deliriously, jealous thoughts, which,
like rust upon iron, had eaten deeply into her heart,
nearly overcame her, and she had had to strive not to
treat the child she adored with positive harshness in her
impatience at witnessing how great must have been the
love between those two.
Poor Emperor Francis! He was sincerely mourned
by his subjects far and wide, and the feathers taken from
the pillow upon which he breathed his last, and which
had very characteristically been distributed to the ladies
of the aristocracy, are still found in many a patrician
household exquisitely framed and sacred as were they
relics ; but his daughter-in-law kept no such memento, for
had he not been a dangerous stumbling-block in her path ?
After all, she was inclined to think, everything happens
for the best in this uncertain and changeful world of
ours, even the accession of her timid, weak, delicate
brother-in-law, Ferdinand, whom at heart she despised,
for he would at least make a wonderful foil for the Em-
peror she was fashioning, as a great sculptor fashions the
clay of a future chef-d'oeuvre.
Her Franz! The greatness of his race, the greatness
of his future, were wellnigh sacred things to her, and far
39
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
dearer than her own pride. She never tired of telling
him of his obligations and privileges, pointing out to him
his proud descent, like a dazzling line of light streaming
down to him through the darkness of the ages to guide
his footsteps. All ordinary emotion of maternity, all
softening recollections of her own childhood, were near-
ly killed in her by her consciousness that it was she,
and she alone, who was predestined to be the mentor of
this King, and that her hands might mould, her spirit
create, that superb and dazzling creature of her dreams
— a perfect Monarch.
Weaker women would have asked for counsel. She
was her own and her son's sole law -giver. She did
not even seek to ease her often overburdened spirit by
confiding to others the anxieties that possessed her dur-
ing long, wretched nights of pondering, long days of
earnest reflection upon the then far from reassuring
state of her son's inheritance, but kept silence, indomi-
tably scorning the tribunals of all human wisdom save
her own.
"God must see the grandeur of my endeavor," she once
said, "and His help is all I demand."
"Apprendre a faire son metier de souverain!" This
was what Archduke Franz had now to do, and it must
be confessed that nothing was neglected which could
help him thereto, and also that he himself showed re
markable good-will and aptitude in so doing.
CHAPTER II
"FRANZI," the simple-hearted boy who had infinitely
preferred the society of Doppelbauer to that of courtiers,
and the simple joys of country-life to the amusements of
cities, had now to relinquish both, to a certain extent,
and to turn his undivided attention to all the branches of
science and of practical knowledge necessary for him to
study.
The days when his tutors, Count Heinrich Bombelles
and Count Johann Coronini, had sought to awaken and
set in motion his childish intelligence under the inter-
lacing roses of the lake-pavilion at Weissenbach were
but a memory, and together with four young nobles —
his "brothers-in-arms," as he called them — Prince Rich-
ard Metternich, son of the great Chancellor; Count Karl
Bombelles, son of his tutor, and who, after a very check-
ered career, became, many years later, the instructor of
poor, ill-fated Crown-Prince Rudolf; Count Franz Coro-
nini, son of his second tutor, and finally Count Taafe,
afterwards one of Austria's greatest Prime-Ministers,
Archduke Franz began his military training under Colo-
nel von Hauslab, a superb soldier and a man of talent,
warm-hearted, conscientious, and brave.
Nor was this training child's play, for the future Ruler
of Austro-Hungary was made to begin at the very be-
ginning, just like any other recruit, and if his clothes
were finer, his food better prepared, and his lodging dif-
ferent from that of the rest of his Majesty Ferdinand
I.'s private soldiers, the fatigues entailed by the break-
si
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ing of his Majesty's nephew to harness were by no means
lighter than those endured by them. He was completely
given up to the grasp of that great war mechanism which
untiringly turns out what the French graphically term
"de la chair <i canon," and sometimes it seemed to him
as if he had himself become a piece of machinery, a mere
mannikin making gestures in obedience to a wire pulled
by a ruthlessly authoritative hand. He was made to
groom his own horse, to saddle and bridle and feed it,
to serve and manoeuvre a cannon. He was put through
ordinary infantry drill, was taught to lay mines under the
direction of a colonel of sappers, to handle a pick and
shovel shoulder to shoulder with the gray-uniformed
men of the pioneer corps, and from six in the morning
until late at night the lad labored almost unceasingly,
dropping rifle or sword only to sit before a desk where
his theoretical and classical education was pursued most
industriously.
None but the young Archduke himself knew at that
time the extent of the sacrifice he was making, not to
his own ambition, but to his mother's, in thus turning
his every thought and effort, and devoting his every
moment to the accomplishment of her wishes, and in-
deed, a budding sportsman like himself, keen of eye and
swift of foot, fond, above all things, of freedom and of
out-door pastimes, must have suffered exceedingly under
this iron ferule of science and learning.
Count Taafe, who was his favorite "brother-in-arms,"
told me one evening, as we sat amid the giant holly-
hocks, the flowering linden-trees, and the ripening cher-
ries of a delicious garden mirrored in the calm, broad,
moonlit waters of the Moldau — or rather the Veltava, as
that beautiful river is called by its soft, melodious Czech
name — how he had often watched his Imperial comrade
curb torturing restlessness, feverish impatience, and an
32
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
almost unconquerable desire to revolt, with a determina-
tion and a force seemingly sufficient to make his every
muscle and mental fibre break and snap, until he had
mastered himself and sat quiet and victorious with big
beads of moisture on his pale brow. How, also, many
years later, Francis-Joseph had confessed to him that he
had several times been on the point of shaking himself
free from his trammels, and had held on only by sheer
force of will, battling with himself until he felt absolutely
broken and tired out, and was once more passive and
subdued, like a beaten horse. Then, pitilessly, fiercely,
he lashed himself forward, starting afresh again and again
in this superb conquest of self.
Still he was far from really disliking the strange and
interesting experiences which were his, spending, as he
did, so many hours of the day among the rank and file —
laborers, artisans, and peasants — gathered together by
the great military dredge from every corner of the Em-
pire, and all and sundry helped to make of him the man
he has become — well-informed, and understanding, with
the sympathy born of personal contact, the lives, the
sorrows, and the joys of the lowliest of his people.
He was at once oppressed and stimulated by that high
ideal, that shadowing forth of the unattainable which
his own soul no less than his mother held ever before his
eyes, and dreading not to justify his birthright by dis-
tancing his compeers, he worked with desperate energy,
alternately confident and despairing of success.
Gradually, however, the brave lad became more silent
and reserved; he withdrew into himself and brooded
alone over the heavy burden of his destiny, until it
seemed to him that the form of the Ruler he was to be
took shape and hue, and stood forth from the atmos-
phere embodied at his side. He saw it with his bodily
eyes, he spoke to it (this I have from his own lips), it
3 33
~\<\\
A KEYSTONE O'F EMPIRE
went with him wherever he went, and was his constant
companion. He believed this brilliant, intangible form
to be his fate, and if it were absent he feared lest it
should wish to forsake him, and would pursue it in
spirit, entreating its return. As if, indeed, our fate
could be avoided or lost! Alas, whether we love or
abhor it, it will surely and steadily attend our steps, for
such is the law, immutable as those of the Medes and
Persians !
In turn the future Emperor of Austro -Hungary was
placed under the orders of Colonel Loschner, Captain
Sachse, Lieutenant Kappler, Major Eitel von Seean,
Colonel Dominick Beck, Captains Giesl, Wtistefeld, Sing-
er, Baron von Smola, etc., as he passed from the infantry
to the cavalry, from the artillery to the sappers, the
Jagers and the pioneers, until at last he himself became
able to command the officers who had taught him, and
who reddened with pride when the clear, young voice of
their beloved pupil shouted an order to them across the
parade-ground.
Gradually, slowly, too, but steadily and surely, a
great alteration became noticeable in the Imperial
youth.
There is a flowering of knowledge and of dearly
bought experience distinct as the burgeoning of an or-
chard in spring. Sometimes the face of a boy merging
into manhood becomes almost insolent with triumph
when the nature of that boy happens to be evil; some-
times it is wistful in its shy and painful lack of self-confi-
dence, although the strong, brave heart may pulsate for
the days and the great deeds that are to come; and
again, it may show the inane satisfaction of a being
entirely pleased with himself, and daring the future to
teach him something he does not already know.
None of these feelings were to be read on Archduke
34
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Franz's handsome countenance; there dwelt there usu-
ally a thoughtful expression, suggestive of hidden and
unfathomed depths, and through his eyes, clear and
blue and honest as in earlier years, shone a soul of
truth, a proud reserve of latent patience and courage,
with already more than a hint of an inflexible deter-
mination surprising in so young a man.
He had become extremely attached to the army, both
as its future commander, and also as an integral part
thereof, belonging to it body and soul — perchance be-
cause he had begun to learn all about it at an age when
most boys are ignorant of even the more ordinary no-
menclature of military matters. A passionate devotion
to the heroes of antiquity interfered to a certain extent
with his comprehension and appreciation of the great
captains of modern times ; but this delving into the past
through the medium of books and black letter-records,
this sedulous raking among the ashes of dead centuries,
brought to him the tonic effect of many an example, and
many a precept that braced him to the arduous task of
resisting the lavish flattery and enervating adulation to
which all Royal personages are exposed. He always
preferred warriors to diplomats and politicians, and felt
himself more in sympathy with men in action than with
scheming minds — a mental attitude which was placed
to his credit by most of those who prophesied for him
a splendid career once he had ascended the throne.
It was a distinct piece of good-fortune for a man des-
tined to rule over the most polyglottic territory in the
universe, that he was so remarkably quick at acquiring
languages. His excellent and perfectly trained musical
ear helped him greatly in the pronunciation of the bar-
baric consonants with which Hungarian, Slovak, Czech,
and most of the other idioms of the Dual-Empire abound,
and as early as October, 1847, he won the hearts of the
35
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Magyars when, for the first time speaking in public as
the Emperor's representative, he addressed them in
their own tongue instead of making use, as was cus-
tomary on such occasions, of the Latin language. The
enthusiasm knew no bounds, and loud Eljens repeatedly
drowned the young orator's voice, for every Hungarian
present felt the compliment to his nation, and when, a
few months afterwards, Kossuth reminded the hot-
headed, royal-hearted Magyars of this incident at a mo-
ment of great danger for the Habsburg dynasty, the re-
sponse was immediate, and all vied in showing their
appreciation of an Austrian Prince who had not thought
it beneath his dignity to learn their difficult language so
as to be able to address them directly, without the me-
diation of priests or interpreters. From that moment,
to the Hungarian mind, even during the days of the rebel-
lion, he was a personality apart from his entire House.
That keen-witted, keen -eyed woman, Archduchess
Sophia, realized perfectly that at the completion of his
studies her handsome boy would enter into that period —
dangerous to all young men, but especially to one cast
amid the countless temptations which environ Royal
personages — when the slumbering senses awaken. Nor
was she to be blamed for almost morbidly dreading the
feminine adorations, which would be thrown at a Prince
whose personal and intellectual gifts would have made
him a singularly winning and seductive youth, even had
he belonged to any other and much humbler walk of life.
Her only hope was in his extreme fastidiousness and deli-
cacy of mind and tastes— in these there would assuredly
be salvation from any ordinary intrigue — but still she
incessantly watched him with terrified anxiety, lest all
that was so deliciously spiritual and innocent in him
should be destroyed by the merciless witchery of illicit
love, for she was too thorough-paced a woman of the
36
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
world not to know that the first passion of a boy colors
all his future, and that he who has once passed the gates
of disillusion never quite recovers from the shock nor
regains a tithe of the self-esteem he has sacrificed.
"A blonde aux yeux noirs!" I have been told that
there is but one thing men of taste admire as much, and
that is a " Brune aux yeux bleus," but that they are both
surpassed by a " Rousse aux yeux gris!" Of course,
much depends upon the face, the figure, and the personal
witchery of such charmeuses, but in Austria dark-eyed
blondes, beautiful of face and form, are not the excep-
tion, but very nearly the rule, as many, many brave
gentlemen of that enticing and fascinating country have
known to their cost.
Well, once upon a time — to be precise, in 1847 — there
breathed and loved at the Court of a puissant monarch —
Emperor Ferdinand of Austria — to conceal nothing of
this little fairy tale — just such a siren, a "blonde aux
yeux noirs,'" with eyes long and dark and exceeding lus-
trous, embellished yet more by a provoking droop of
curly lashes, and by delicately pencilled eyebrows, as
dark as they. Her tresses were not only blond — they
were of purest gold, of spun sunbeams, or, good people,
if you should prefer it so put, as sparkling as if daintily
powdered and frosted with some extraordinarily brill-
iant yellow diamond dust. What has such hair to do
with the hackneyed "ripe corn," "amber," or "copper"
similes so dear to novelists? Nothing whatsoever, I
assure you; it was much, much finer than all these!
Add to the above enumeration a dazzlingly fair skin, a
small, straight, imperceptibly tip-tilted nose, with deli-
cately rose-tinted nostrils of an emotional, vibrating
type, lips full, sensuous, red as the bud of the pomegran-
ate, disclosing short, pearl-white teeth, a slender but
perfectly rounded figure, singularly tiny feet and hands,
37
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
and that most surpassingly excellent thing in woman, a
voice low, rich, and sweet, and you will, I believe, see
before your mind's eye a marvellously lovely being
whom Greuze would have rapturously immortalized
had he only been wise enough to avoid the fatal error
of coming into the world a great deal too soon.
Nor do I desire it to be overlooked that this en-
chantress was by birth, and by marriage as well, en-
titled to crown her glittering curls with a " couronne
fermte," "ce qui ne gate jamais joli visage."
Diogenes himself could have been pardoned for falling
a victim to such a being, especially if he had been granted
the sight of her half - searching, half -bashful glances,
through those strangely silky lashes, or heard her mock-
ing, tantalizing, tinkling, bewitching, airy laugh.
A beauty whose insouciance and piquant freedom of
speech and manner have all the grace taught by the
breeding of Courts is fatally dangerous and dangerously
fatal, for there is simply no escaping such a combination.
Our siren was, moreover, the most capricious coquette
that ever broke hearts with a fan-handle, peeping the
while with mischievous cruelty around the corner of her
noli-me-tangere shield, in a fashion which even St. An-
thony— one may as well cite celebrities while about it
— would assuredly not have resisted.
How could anybody doubt that when young Archduke
Franz came face to face with this entrancing apparition
he would fall a victim to her extraordinary charm?
The fateful meeting took place on a gala night at Schon-
brunn, in one of those superb salons still rustling with
the melodious swish of robes a la Pompadour, and the
echo of eighteenth -century " galanteries " — a true replica
of Versailles in its palmiest days — with the delicate
fragrance of poudre a la Marechale and of Frangipani
lingering in the pale brocades of its draperies.
38
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
On that particular night, in spite of the grievously
troubled political horizon, the great palace was full of
color, of life, of music, and of laughter. Entering the
salon in question, and finding it untenanted, as he
thought, the young Archduke was about to retreat to the
terrace, when, framed by the faint greens and pinks of the
window-curtains, he caught sight of the slender, graceful
form of a woman thrown out in exquisite relief against
the moonlit haze of the flower-laden terrace beyond.
Clad in ivory -hued laces, and with a diadem of
gigantic emeralds sparkling in her dazzling hair, stood
this loveliest. of all lovely Court beauties, her dark eyes
dancing with sunny laughter, her sweet lips half parted,
her ridiculously small hands holding back the curtains
which had concealed her, intentionally, until then — a
picture quite inimitable in its soft, delicious brilliancy.
For a moment the young man stood transfixed and to-
tally startled out of his usual self-possession, then he
bowed profoundly, with the Old-World courtesy, which
sat so well on this tall, slim, blond-locked boy of seven-
teen.
Love is a quick match, easily lighted, which often
flares into burning flame at a single glance, and from the
instant when he set eyes on that seductive, bizarre, irre-
sistible beauty, with her dangerous under-glances and her
childlike bloom, as dainty as the flush on a sea-shell, a
dizzy, breathless, all-consuming intoxication mastered,
snared, and captivated him against his will.
This was the first whisper of love's song, that music
which, alas! so often leads a man, to the accompani-
ment of sweetest melody, from the snowy-perfumed
arms of Circe to wreck and death and despair.
Archduchess Sophia when she saw them together
looked on aghast and horrified. She knew, without
the consoling possibility of a doubt, that- this queen of
39
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
loveliness was a coquette, absolutely merciless in her
wiles, a woman intensely selfish, heartless, one of those
who "live on the censing of fools, and spend their time
in fooling wise men," and she decided to resort to he-
roic measures in order to remove her "future sover-
eign" from the influence of this particular blonde aux
yeux noirs.
The young man had but very little in common at that
time with the easy-going, merry, happy-go-lucky Vien-
nese whom he so sincerely loved and admired. Courtly,
silent, extraordinarily self-contained for his age, pas-
sions swift and strong had lain dormant within him
until partially awakened by the gloriously beautiful
woman whom, having met, he was to leave almost at
once.
Had the spell not been broken at one blow, the risk
for him would have indeed been great, for he was as yet
too young and inexperienced to perceive her tactics and
to defy them, as well as to prevent his pulses from
quickening under the fire of her lustrous eyes; and,
moreover, clever enchantress that she was, she had,
even in the short days of their acquaintance, managed
to impress him with the many alleged sorrows of her
life, and posed, with misleading and astonishing art, as
a Miranda married to a Caliban, although this was
decidedly overstraining the truth. Her lord was neither
particularly young nor particularly attractive, yet he
was neither a fool nor a knave. Moreover, he was very
much in love with her, and, being exceedingly wealthy,
delighted in satisfying her every caprice. Nevertheless,
her sweet, pathetic attitude of femme incomprise ap-
pealed strongly to the chivalry which was Archduke
Franz's most marked characteristic, and his eyes inva-
riably softened with adoring pity and boundless sym-
pathy when they met hers.
40
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
It had long been decided that, his studies completed,
Archduke Franz should be appointed Governor of Bo-
hemia, the dignity to be assumed as soon as he had
accomplished a series of Royal and Imperial visits
throughout Europe. But political events, and especially
the arrival upon the scene of the dusky-eyed blonde, in-
terfered decisively with this carefully laid plain.
The tempest which was beginning to rage both within
and without Austro - Hungary gave the Archduchess a
more than valid excuse to momentarily tloigner her son.
Of course it was necessary for him to receive his baptism
of fire, and with an aching heart, but unfalteringly, the
mother took the first step in the scheme which put, for
the first time, many, many miles of battle-ravaged coun-
try between herself and the only being she loved in the
world, and also before all was said or done, placed in his
young hands the reins of government amid Sturm und
Drang.
The situation of Austro-Hungary was at that moment
a truly lamentable one, for that unhappy country was
at war with a twofold enemy ; at war with Italy beyond
the borders, and at home, alas! with a steady wave of
disloyalty and revolt rapidly arising, which threatened
to submerge and destroy the monarchy itself. Indeed,
the very air seemed instinct with black despair, and
from none knew where a sense of some dim, portentous
tragedy — as yet distant, but approaching swiftly — that
threatened the trembling star of the Habsburgs, crept
into every loyal heart.
Rising revolution closed in the pathway to the future
as a gloomy, crumbling tunnel might that of an onward
rushing train, and so terrifying was its menacing dark-
ness that Austrians may well be pardoned if they did
not then realize that their beloved Fatherland was rush-
ing towards the light, after all, and that the boy who
41
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
was soon to assume control of that mad and headlong
course would, with all his brave young heart filled but
by one thought — that of saving Crown and honor, and
of bringing safely into prosperity the country which by
Right Divine was his to rule — succeed in his terrible
task beyond all expectations.
In the spring of 1848 Archduchess Sophia had a long
and tumultuous interview with the Emperor, which re-
sulted in his future successor being allowed to join Field-
Marshal Count Radetzky at Verona, where the old hero
was encamped, and as soon as this was done the delight-
ed youth, who, in the enthusiasm of martial ardor had,
for the time being at least, forgotten his dawning pas-
sion, set off for the field of war at the head of the Third
Regiment of Dragoons, of which he was colonel both de
jure and de facto.
A terrible void was left in the hearts and lives of his
parents by his departure, and Archduchess Sophia, to
whom he had, until very lately, brought nothing but
unclouded satisfaction, began to ascend the Calvary of
all mothers in fear and trembling for their sons' lives.
Even she, the stout of heart, almost broke down when
bidding him Godspeed — a weakness which she would
never have forgiven herself. Indeed, the few who wit-
nessed that good-bye scene noticed that she closed her
eyes for a moment, as if striving for control, and that a
slight sound, like a quick catching of the breath, escaped
from her white lips.
Poor Archduchess! this struggle between her cruel
anxiety for the safety of her son, her absolute horror
of showing how deeply she felt the impending separa-
tion, and with all her disgust at discovering that she,
strong - minded par excellence, should be but a tender,
loving, frightened mother, like the rest of that long-
suffering genus, was nearly the final undoing of her
42
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
stqical philosophy, and it seemed to her as if this hour
would drive her beyond the confines of reason.
There are moments when such a catastrophe seems
imminent, when a human creature is tortured to this
bitter extreme, and when all normal faculty of self-con-
trol, all power of considering matters from the stand-
point of the necessary, the practical, or the expedient, is
suddenly and terribly withdrawn. Keenly realizing all
this, the mother silently fought for strength to retain her
habitual marble mask, but the effort was one of those
that sometimes kill, and a blank look came upon her face,
the look that usually precedes a fainting fit, and the
hands which she had mechanically stretched towards
him wavered confusedly, as if groping in the dark for
something.
Meanwhile her "Franzi" — nothing but her own "lit-
tle Franzi ' ' now — stood before her in his campaigning
uniform, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor passing
over his face from the lips upward to the eyes, although
he was apparently wholly absorbed in the arrangement
of his sword-knot.
Neither attempted to speak. Again the mother's
slightly trembling hands were hesitatingly held out, and
then impatiently drawn back, as if the controlling spirit
had laid a harsh, restraining grasp upon the bridle of
impulse. Suddenly the tension broke, the young war-
rior seized her violently in his arms, and, with closed
eyes, pressed his face hard against her neck, like a
child in pain.
* * * * * * * * *
*********
*********
Northern Italy, in the early spring, is the nearest ap-
proach to paradise which man can visit, with its cypress
43
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
woods and olive-groves of silvered green, its clambering
rose-vines hanging fragrant blossoms from every bough,
its thickets of camellia and rhododendron, its fields of
lilies, where purple dissolves into blue and crimson, blue
into a thousand mauve, violet, and roseate overtones,
and the vivid green of the lush grass into every dainty
elusive kindred hue known to the spectrum.
In such a climate nature, with the help of a stray
beam of sunshine, a thimbleful of dew, a puff of breeze
from the hills, and a handful of rich, brown earth, can
distil the very fragrance of heaven.
Amid this riot of delicate odor goldfinches, green-
finches, blackcaps, nightingales, and robin - redbreasts
disport themselves and shower their full bright notes
in tiny rills and thrills and runs of exquisite harmony
from the protecting depths of the foliage, each little
feathered throat pulsating in time to the crystalline mu-
sic, like a live and extraordinarily melodious metronome.
The spell of spring, and of that lovely land he was
visiting for the first time, were upon Archduke Franz
as he arrived in Radetzky's camp. The melancholy of
departure had absolutely disappeared, and a great hap-
piness welled up in his heart.
He was going into action ! What magic in those few
words. Heir to a great Empire and to great traditions
of honor and fearlessness, to great duties and obligations
as well, he owed it, therefore, to his ancestors to do the
very utmost within his power in order to revive and
maintain the Habsburg honor, of which he was the
custodian — he, the banner-bearer of his race! The
time had come, God be praised! when he could unfurl
this banner bravely and nobly in the sight of the
world. That was his mission, the work he was born
to do, he thought exultantly, as he directed his steps
towards the spot where he was to meet Radetzky.
44
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Bor a moment he stopped, gazing straight ahead at
the fair landscape flooded with brilliant sunshine, but see-
ing nothing save his familiar phantasm striding proudly
before him to victory and glory. Excepting this there
was nothing else in all created space for him that day
but battling armies, waving standards, and the rush of
charging squadrons ; and at the sound of the war-trumpet
his soul came forth from its hiding-place and shone in
his eyes, looking fearlessly towards the future.
The Field-Marshal did not relish the responsibility
placed upon him by the arrival of the Heir-Apparent to
go under fire for the first time under his — Radetzky's —
orders, and almost comically did the face of the young
Archduke lengthen when the blunt-spoken old warrior
curtly exclaimed :
"Your Imperial Highness's presence here is very dis-
agreeable to me! Should anything happen to you, what
will be said of me ? — and if you should be taken prisoner
all the advantages that I might otherwise gain over the
enemy will, of course, be set at naught."
He spoke peremptorily, his multitudinous wrinkles
expressive of extreme displeasure, his bold, unflinching
hawk eyes forcing themselves to forget that he was ad-
dressing his future sovereign.
The Archduke could not repress a nervous and rather
abashed little laugh, but, with a slightly breathless and
triumphant enunciation, he replied:
'"Herr Feldmarschall,' it may have been imprudent
to send me here, but here I am, and here I stay. It is
my place!" Then, drawing himself up and saluting
stiffly, he added: " I have the honor to report myself for
duty."
Radetzky hastily turned his eyes — in which a suspi-
cious glisten had suddenly appeared — down the avenue
of tents, before which file after file of soldiers stood at
45
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
attention, for this brave veteran of eighty-two now saw
in the lad of seventeen his own youth rising up before
him, as well as the ardent hope of the Imperial House he
had served so long and loyally. With a deep inclination
he grasped the Archduke's hand, and would have raised
it to his withered lips, but, freeing himself, the young
man threw his arms about the bent old form and em-
braced his commanding officer as had he been his own
father, while the palest nicker of a smile passed over the
imperturbable face of the aide-de-camp in attendance
as he watched the conflicting emotions of his chief.
Neither the Archduke nor the Field-Marshal spoke
again until, walking side by side, they had reached the
latter's quarters.
Radetzky often declared afterwards that his had not
at that period been a bed of roses, for he had the un-
precedented and uncomfortable honor of numbering
among his officers and generals not only the Archdukes
Albrecht and Wilhelm, sons of the victor of Aspern, who
had joined him at the beginning of the campaign, but
alas! now also the apple of Archduchess Sophia's eye —
Archduchess Sophia who was feared throughout Aus-
tria— her first-born, fashioned by her strong, clever
hands to occupy the Dual Throne, and whose death she
would never forgive.
As for the young Archduke himself, he from the first
moment took to active military life as a duck takes to
water, and the highest-trained, longest-inured soldier of
Radetzky 's army did not endure privation with more
content and more fortitude than he.
On May 6th he received his baptism of fire at Santa
Lucia, and bore himself throughout that fiercely fought
battle in the splendid manner so fitly celebrated by the
lines of Wernhart — "Die Feuerprobe" — of which I here
give a copy for those who admire war-poetry.
46
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Die Trommel rief zum Sturme
Einst bei Sanct Lucia,
Da gieng es an ein Streiten
So kuhn von beiden Seiten
Wie ich kein zweites sah.
Die S6hne Osterreichs rangen
Urns Recht so manche Stund';
Doch furchtbar kam das Feuer
Aus Lucias Gemauer,
Wie aus der Holle Schlund.
Da ritt aus den Schwadronen
Ein junger Officier,
Er flog beim Kugelregen
Dem Feindeshort entgegen,
Voll edler Kampfbegier.
Als er an unsern Reihen
Gehemmt des Rosses Lauf,
Da rief er "Vorwarts Jagerl
Seid ihr des Ruhmes Trager
Auf dieser Thurme h'nauf!"
Das Wort kaum ausgesprochen
Hat Wunder schon gethan;
Die Feinde zu bezwingen,
Gieng's wie auf Adlerschwingen
Den steilen Berg hinan.
Der schmucke Reiter wusste,
Dass Muth nur gilt im Krieg,
Bestand im Kampfgetobe
Mit uns die Feuerprobe,
Und unser war der Sieg.
Kennt ihr den Heldenjungling,
Der kiihn voran uns flog?
Franz- Josef war's, der Kaiser,
Der sich schon Lorbeerreiser
Gepfluckt als Erzherzog.
It would take a cleverer pen than mine to adequately
describe the look of absolute anguish which so many
47
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
noticed on Radetzky's face on that memorable day,
when he saw Archduke Franz quietly check his charger
in the thickest of a storm of bullets, and without so much
as a flicker of the eyelids remain watching intently the
progress of the enemy. Nor had the natural excitement
of the moment, the bracing smell of powder, the swish-
ing sound of the wind-tossed flags anything to do with
the martial attitude of this neophyte, for he was indeed
a born soldier. He gently waved away Feldmarschall-
Lieutenant Baron d'Aspre, who was imploring him to
take shelter, conjuring him to remember the extreme
value of his life, and whose ferocious glares and gestures
of impotent exasperation and despair were received by
the object of all this undesired solicitude with a disarm-
ingly winning smile, as, settling himself squarely in his
saddle, the amused Archduke replied, slowly, softly, but
with complete and inexorable obstinacy: "I won't go!"
This day of initiation was, perchance, the longest, the
most agitating, the most elating, and the most unfor-
gettable the young Archduke had ever spent. Expect-
ant of the end, as one who toils upward towards some
towering hidden summit of dazzling magnificence, he
lost the sense of time, of fatigue, of hunger, of thirst,
every sense, in fact, but that of a strange joy, almost
fierce in its intensity. For hour after hour there was
no relaxation of muscles, no throwing off of tension,
the lids never drooped over the intently gazing eyes, the
firm lips scarcely parted; the whole energetic young
figure was alert with passionate vitality, with fasci-
nated enthusiasm.
He never forgot, at any rate, the sunset of that day,
of which he still loves to talk, the dull blue of thunder-
clouds that brooded in the west, the sky of purple and
gold, the warmth and soft transparency of living color
amid which the fiery sphere went down in indescribable
48
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
majesty, seen through the ruddy veil of smoke drifting
from the battle - field — an orgy of sky and cloud tints
frontiered by the darkness of threatening vapors, which
formed, had he but known it, so fitting an emblem of
his future.
Prudence had been at no time among his prominent
characteristics, and this glorious defence of the Austri-
ans, this lucky throw of Radetzky's last card, was not
calculated to teach caution to a young man normally
deficient in it. The latent instinct in him — the instinct
that had flashed out in days of keen sport on the dan-
gerous summits of the Tyrolese Alps — was that of abso-
lute, unconscious courage, and he found something of
himself, a familiarity as of previous experience, in the
heat of battle, the rush of the charge, and the reckless
deviltry of clashing regiments.
Tears of pride stood in his eyes as he saw a handful
of men — twelve companies — fighting successfully against
five entire brigades, an almost unheard-of, almost unsur-
passed feat of arms. These men were the flower of Ra-
detzky's army, and they moved with the ferocity of
tigers, with wondrous celerity, hurling themselves upon
the Piedmontese, their hands gripped hard upon their
weapons, their white coats stained with dust and blood,
until Austrian and Italian were blended in one inextri-
cable mass.
The Austrian cavalry, hemmed in between infantry
and artillery, for a long time was unable to charge, every
man keeping his life by a ceaseless hand-to-hand sword-
play, beautiful to behold, but nevertheless bitter, stifling,
cruel work, during which many a saddle was emptied,
many lives crushed out under the stamping hoofs of the
maddened horses. But at last the moment long looked
for, long desired, arrived, and with lightning rapidity
Archduke Franz seized it. Spurring his horse against
4 49
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the wall of swarthy, savage Italian faces, and waving his
sword above his head , the young colonel literally threw
his dragoons upon their now swaying and yielding ranks.
The men rushed forward in a superb effort, like arrows
launched from a thousand powerful bows. The impetu-
osity of their charge was irresistible, and bore King Al-
bert's troops headlong before it. Men fell on every side,
to be ground into pulp upon the blood-soaked ground.
Above the hellish din, the tumult and the shouting, the
wild neighing of chargers, and the roar of musketry and
of cannon, rang out a succession of coolly given orders
from the ever-changing spot where, with the reek of
smoke and of carnage around him, rode Archduke Franz,
a slim, inspiring figure on his rearing, fretting, curvet-
ting charger, as he forced his way through a storm of
blows and a hurricane of projectiles, leading the sweep
of his squadrons over the lifeless forms of the fallen.
When at length this superb feat of arms was over,
the soldiers crowded shouting about him. They had
had enough of monarchs who sat sedately at home and
looked upon a throne as the most comfortable of rest-
ing-places; a man of action was what they desired, and
here, indeed, was a slender, blue-eyed Prince, their fut-
ure Emperor and Generalissimo, who had been tried and
not found wanting! Therefore, with enthusiasm raised
to boiling-point, as much by the modesty of his bearing
as by what he had done, they rent the air with cries of
"Hoch!" they kissed his hands, his clothing, his very
boots, and, had he permitted it, would have carried him
in triumph upon their shoulders amid frenzied hurrahs.
As he came face to face with Radetzky, the grave,
noble-looking old man doffed his plumed hat and bent
to his saddle-bow.
"God grant," he said, in a strangely unsteady voice,
"that our soldiers may emulate Your Imperial Highness
5°
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
wherever our colors are displayed. God bless Your Im-
perial Highness!"
"I did nothing," replied the Archduke, quietly. "Any
of your officers would do what I have done." And then,
pointing with his naked sword towards the battle-field,
"It is with to-day's dead that glory lies!"
Once again wild, frantic, tumultuous cheers sounded
like the call of trumpets, sending his name through the
heavy, powder -laden air. He was their predestined
leader, and every heart beat with the joy of having
found him ; nor would one man of that crowding soldiery
have hesitated to follow him into the very jaws of death
had he but said the word.
A great courage, a cool head, and a quick decision are
the chief qualities of an officer, but to those qualities
Archduke Franz added one which, if it is not so essen-
tial, is, at all events, most rare and endearing — a kind-
ness of heart, which in truth knew no bounds, an infinite
compassion for those who had suffered the mischances
of war, and though he had been many hours in the sad-
dle, and had tasted no food since dawn, he now turned
unhesitatingly towards the wounded and dying that
strewed the ground.
The sights which met his eye were assuredly awful
enough to make a far more hardened soldier quail; but
though at times he could hardly keep back the tears
from his eyes, he labored like any surgeon amid that
scene of suffering and misery, without shrinking from
those who writhed in their agony, or from the distorted
corpses, with mutilated limbs, scattered singly or hud-
dled together as they had fallen, in ghastly mounds of
horrible entanglement, under the rising moon.
Tenderly, fearlessly he continued his self-imposed task,
seeking for lingering life among both friend and foe, and
saving it, too, in many cases, with a curious, untaught
51
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
surgical skill, until, at length, when the night was far ad-
vanced, utterly exhausted, he consented to eat and rest,
and rolling himself in his long cavalry coat sank into a
half-lethargic slumber under the calm stars shining with
undisturbed lustre in the deep violet sky far, far above
his head.
At home, meanwhile, the lonely mother, although
none of those about her would have believed it, thought
night and day, with increasing agony, of the naked hor-
rors of war. To her war was not a great pageant dressed
in the splendid array of romance — the presence of a be-
loved life at the front is not conducive to such illusions —
but a grewsome tragedy, a bitter, deadly truth, made
only more terrible by the glitter of accoutrements, the
polish of costly weapons, the snowy whiteness of tents
over which droop the silken folds of gold-embroidered
flags, all that pomp which but emphasizes hunger, cold,
heat, racking physical pain, thirst, travail, and torture,
except for the novelist or the poet looking on from afar,
and whose perspective is so often faulty.
No one ever heard the Archduchess sigh, or saw tears
in her deep-set eyes, and she never in any way alluded to
her torturing anxiety, not even under the seal of con-
fession. Its pain was buried in her own breast, and none
guessed its depth. Her expression had always been grave,
her beauty of a severe type, her moods silent; therefore
her present frozen calm successfully covered and con-
cealed the fire burning within. Her only consolation
was her stern conception of the demands of honor, and
to these she forced herself to yield obedience, instead
of to those tyrannically haunting impulses which bade
her recall her boy, for the time was not yet.
A letter written privately to her by Radetzky , however,
and which she mentioned to none, made her reconsider
this verdict with passionate alacrity. Archduke Franz
52
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
was, doing far more than honor demanded, far, far more
than even she had expected of him. This being so, she
decided to bring him back, but without laying bare her
shameful fears, without sacrificing her self-respect and
dignity, for superficially she had been throughout so in-
flexibly unemotional that she could not thus at the last
openly acknowledge her weakness.
That very day she sought her brother-in-law, whose
Imperial will was, alas! but as spun glass in her hands,
and who greatly feared her. He was conscious that her
intelligence was far keener than his own, that she was
never vague or uncertain as to any course of action, that
it was impossible to hoodwink her; and instinctively
realized, although her wire-pulling was almost always
too subtle for his dull vision, that he was only a mere
puppet, everlastingly dancing to her imperious pip-
ing and eternally obeying her viewless directions. He
dreaded her silences, generally pregnant with storm,
and yet more her closely reasoned, ironical speeches,
which invariably rose in the peroration to a caustic,
withering, exquisitely rounded eloquence of polite in-
vective. He felt keenly her contempt for his compla-
cent narrowness of mind, his boundless egotism, his
small, contracted views, begotten of formula, his singu-
larly conventional religiosity, which clipped and trimmed
everything to suit his own wishes, and especially his
weak, ailing body, already at fifty-five that of an old
man, and his yet weaker mentality.
Emperor Ferdinand had inherited from his father,
Emperor Francis, a veneration for rectitude, but nature
had not endowed him with his father's capacity to un-
dergo bodily and mental exertions for the welfare of his
people, and the latter seldom understood him.
The art of pleasing is more based on that of seeming
pleased than is generally known, and the sickly, fretful
53
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
man who occupied the throne gave the continual im-
pression that he lamented his unhappy lot in season and
out of season. In this case, also, the old proverb which
says, " Be honey and the flies will eat you," was glaringly
exemplified. He was too meek, too easily cozened and
led with delicate flattery, and especially too anxious to
conciliate both the cabbage and the goat to ever cope
successfully with the fearful problems he had been set
to solve.
Another saying— one of wise old Talleyrand's— Fer-
dinand unfortunately never remembered , ' ' Live with your
friends, but remember that one day they will be your
enemies," and this neglect ended by costing him dear.
Assuredly his life as a monarch was not a happy one.
The long, weary days unrolled themselves drearily be-
fore him, beginning in the morning with altercation and
strife, continuing with cares and fatigues, ending often
in rough dispute, and knowing peace of a sort only dur-
ing the rare absences of Archduchess Sophia; but, of
course, a man more energetic than himself could easily
have alleviated, if not entirely obliterated, all these
troubles.
On a delicious morning in early May, when thousands
of song-birds filled the grand old trees of Schonbrunn
with melody, or played hide-and-seek in the tall, feath-
ery weeds and purple iris along the margins of the foun-
tains, when the deer bounded through the gcassy, beech-
studded slopes of the park, trampling violets, primroses,
and stars of Bethlehem under their scurrying hoofs,
Archduchess Sophia joined the Emperor in the "Glori-
ette," where he was delightedly inhaling the soft, fra-
grant breezes.
At her approach a heavy gloom overcast his wrinkled
countenance, and he rose to greet her with an almost
childish pettishness.
54
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Jhe Archduchess inclined her proud head in acknowl-
edgment of his curt bow, and, seating herself upon a
marble bench, let her eyes dwell earnestly upon the sun-
lit landscape, as if to do so were her only object in life.
"A beautiful morning," said the Emperor, nervously,
with an involuntary twitching of the lips which he
never could restrain when speaking to her.
"Beautiful!" assented the Archduchess, and then re-
lapsed into cool silence.
The aide-de-camp, standing behind his sovereign, said,
later, to a friend, that the wretched old man looked to
him at that moment like a bird trembling at the near
approach of a snake.
"We may have a storm later on," continued the mon-
arch, with a desperate attempt at conversational ease
and an embarrassed nod of his senile head in the direc-
tion of what is called, in Austria, "die Wetter Seite"
(the weather side).
The Archduchess deigned to lower her gaze to the level
of her brother-in-law's cringing form. He had suddenly
assumed a look of age, and appeared like one double his
years. As her glance met his, he started, and dropped
his gold -headed cane with a clatter upon the marble
pavement. The aide-de-camp rushed forward, picked
it up, handed it respectfully to the Emperor, and re-
tired precipitately into the background, as if glad to
avoid the storm-centre. Poor Ferdinand would have
greatly liked to do the same, but perforce remained
where an unkind fate had sent him, balancing the cane
delicately in his thin, blue-veined hand, and studying
its turquoise-paved head with every appearance of great
and absorbing interest.
"Don't make yourself uneasy," said his tormentor, in
the gentlest of voices, "the stones are quite uninjured!"
The Emperor hastily turned away, and, looking across
55
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the shaded, dark -green turf, dappled with wavering
spots of rippling sun-gold, tried to collect himself.
The breath of that peerless morning was like a power-
ful extract of fragrant blossoms fresh from the hand of a
heavenly parfumeur, and he was strangely conscious of
its charm despite the fear tugging at his heart, that
pitiful anguish which should, in the nature of things, fall
only to the lot of extreme old age, when the soul nears
its flight and feels its inability to struggle with the diffi-
culties and trials of life. There came over him a pas-
sionate longing for peace and rest, for cessation of noise
and worry, for escape from this apprehension of coming
evil, this dread that, like Merlin's, even now shook him
as had he been touched by a chill wind, although it was
spring-time and the glorious day drowsed warmly on in
soft fire and lovely coloring, under his weary, anxious
eyes.
Well did he know what she had come to upbraid him
about, well did he realize what sins of omission she laid
at his door, and greatly did he inwardly revolt at her
unsparing criticism and oft -repeated "I told you so."
He, with the Habsburg Family and Court, had done little
else but scoff at the mere idea of a successful revolution in
Austria. Even now it scarcely occurred to any one that
the throne was standing in imminent peril and that at
any moment the bulwarks of imperialism might burst
asunder and the tide of anarchy rush into its magic cir-
cle, scattering destruction and death all around. The
mass of the people were at the outset opposed to all
advanced ideas, their superb loyalty to the reigning dy-
nasty was regarded as absolutely unshakable, and when,
in the previous month of March, devastating waves
began to lap at the foundations of a hitherto inviolate
authority, the phenomenon was beheld with astonish-
ment, and received with gay ridicule, not only by the
56
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
nobility, but by pretty much everybody else as well,
always excepting the sharp-sighted Archduchess Sophia.
Her continual mefiez vous was unfortunately disregard-
ed, for though the seeds sown by agitators and malcon-
tents fell upon a soil not yet sufficiently prepared to in-
sure a quick fruition, the efforts of the noisy and fanatical
minority had at length produced a very noticeable crop.
The reforms instituted by Emperor Joseph, half a cen-
tury before, had their share in precipitating the catas-
trophe, for, although they had doubtless alleviated many
of the people's miseries at the time, they had not reck-
oned with the spirit of discontent, which, in these our
beautifully enlightened days, was bound to arise from
measures which practically extended yet more the power
of the Crown.
Poor Emperor Joseph! His self -written epitaph was
indeed a true one: "A Prince whose intentions were
pure, yet who had the misfortune to see all his plans
miscarry."
The time was now ripe for the fruition of just such
miscarried, misdirected reforms. Metternich, the great
chancellor, the omnipotent arbiter of two reigns, after
trying his best to control the upheaval, had failed ig-
nominiously, and since a fortnight had been a fugitive in
England. The right to carry arms had been granted to
the ignorant multitude, liberty of the press gave oppor-
tunity and audience to every scheming or crack-brained
agitator, and finally, on the 26th of April, a constitution
had been accorded to a people unused to and unfitted for
popular government. Indeed, none save a monarch of
almost unparalleled strength and sagacity could have
averted the misfortunes that were now to overtake the
country in this sad year of 1848.
With war beyond her borders, and revolution within
them, Austria was, indeed, in a sorry plight; but during
57
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the silence that fell between the Emperor and his sister-
in-law, on that exquisite May morning, he thought of
nothing but his own grievances, and the cruel injustice
of Providence towards himself in giving him a mentor
who loomed unceasingly in his immediate neighborhood,
like a tempest-cloud that darkens the sky with a menace
sure to be fulfilled.
In the cool assumption of right as a matter of course,
there lies an irresistible power. This was one of Arch-
duchess Sophia's greatest weapons, especially when deal-
ing with her weak and easily cowed brother-in-law. She
never gave him the slightest chance of doubting her
perfect title to dictate to him with superb insolence, for
even in her worst wrath she was ever self -controlled,
shrewd, and wise. He was paying dearly, indeed, for
that most unpardonable and terrible of follies — irreso-
lution.
At last she spoke:
"Do you believe in spectres, Ferdinand?" Her voice
was calm and indifferent as usual, and yet he fancied
that he could catch the echo of some hidden irony in
the low, level tones.
"In spectres? What spectres?" he asked, uneasily,
instantly on the defensive.
In the distance the fresh young voice of little Arch-
duke Ludwig- Victor's French nurse rang out suddenly
under the trees:
" On a mis la graine en terre,
Saute done la brune au son du fluteau!"
"Spectres of your own making, for instance," the
Archduchess replied, with a sneer, faint but unmistak-
able, which revealed her meaning completely.
"En terre pr£s du ruisseau
Au son de la flute, au son du fluteau "
58
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
came the gay, lilting melody, answered by a childish
pipe, repeating, joyfully:
"Au son du fluteau! au son du fltiteau!"
The Emperor stirred nervously. Then a sudden cour-
age seized him to probe to the depth of her meaning and
discover if he could not for once silence those cruel lips
and force those calm, scornful eyes to droop before a
master. Perchance he had made a succession of false
moves. Perhaps instead of retreating he ought to have
attacked. So he now assumed a sterner manner, and
said, with what decision he could command:
"I 'wish, Sophia, that if you have anything to say to
me you would do so in plain language, instead of adopt-
ing that of metaphor. I do really," he concluded, al-
most recklessly.
"Do you?" she murmured. There was a note of gen-
uine surprise in her voice, and she regarded him curious-
ly, as though she had discovered something new, puz-
zling, and quite amazingly ridiculous about him.
He struggled against the influence of her eyes, his dry
fingers grasping the handle of his gorgeous cane with
unconscious force as he leaned forward, resting an elbow
on his crossed knees, and forced himself to look her un-
swervingly in the face, but already his resolution was
ebbing away.
"You and I could surely understand each other,
Sophia, if only you would be less inclined to think that I
wish to thwart you, for, on the contrary, I am only too
happy when I can meet your wishes. Tell me what it is
that you desire?"
A bowl of milk to a cobra is the better part of valor, for
it enables one to retreat unmolested; but Ferdinand's
abrupt change of manner, his sudden swerve, and his
attempt at charming, instead of risking a bite, was not
59
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
lost upon so clever a woman as his antagonist. Her ex-
pression altered from dreamy sarcasm and half-curiosity
to extreme alertness, and there was a sharp, belligerent
vitality in her whole attitude as she turned towards him,
so quickly that he almost dropped his cane again. She
stared hard at him, her face set, her chin a little forward,
the whole woman a gaze of extreme power.
"How very curious," she said, at last, "that a man
born on the steps of a throne, born to be a ruler of men,
should be so readily influenced by his likes and dislikes !
Neither should ever interfere with prudence, Ferdinand,
and you are, I assure you, singularly rash when you
try to propitiate me" — the pronoun was superbly em-
phasized— "in such a paltry fashion. You might just
as well attempt to appease a whirlwind by means of a
nice little green-enamelled watering-pot."
"My dear Sophia!" pleaded her victim, looking dis-
tressedly round for his aide-de-camp, who, however, had
long since retreated from view, although duty compelled
him, until formally dismissed, to remain within earshot.
But the Archduchess cared little for the piteous misery
so evidently overwhelming her Imperial relative. It
was clearly her place to frighten him into acceding to
what she considered necessary for the welfare of the
Crown, so she laughed a little, satisfied laugh, and, cross-
ing her slender hands upon her lap, mercilessly resumed:
"In comparing myself to a whirlwind, I am not, I as-
sure you, underrating my humble personality. A whirl-
wind is a very wholesome thing — it sweeps pestilence
away and drives contagion before it."
Ferdinand instantly abjured any lingering remnants
of an intention to face the music. "I am shocked at
you, Sophia," he said, coaxingly, and with a sickly smile.
"What is the use of railing at yourself in this fashion?"
Archduchess Sophia laughed again her exasperating
60
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
little laugh, as if her only object was to see him writhe.
She was feeling her way. Her object clearly in view, it
was only a question which of her many weapons to use ;
meanwhile a little judiciously applied touch of the whip
would open the way for useful attacks of every de-
scription. So she studied him with searching eyes,
which he, as usual, avoided, looking intently at a deli-
cate pearly cloud travelling across the radiant sky like
a graceful swan upon a lake of azure.
He would have sincerely preferred an encounter with
a virago from the slums, flying at him with oaths and
curses, or tearing him bodily like a wild cat, to this
fencing and parrying with a polished, shrewd, absolute-
ly relentless adversary, who took advantage of every
weakness, and knew where to find every defect in his
thin, ill-fitting armor. More than ever before he felt like
a man upon whose breast crouches some beautiful, fierce
animal, some exquisitely graceful, velvety leopard or
jaguar, from the clutches of which, struggle as he will,
there is no escape. But a sullen, desperate anger be-
gan to rise in his breast, against life, against fate, and
especially against her. His hands suddenly closed on
his ill-fated cane so that the knuckles whitened with the
grip-
Archduchess Sophia, with the swift delicacy of per-
ception that made her so dangerous an enemy, divined
something of his feelings, and concluded it would be
unwise to push her pusillanimous antagonist too far.
The worm might turn, and then, what? So, with even
more than her accustomed suppleness, she assumed a
tone of honest bluntness:
"When I spoke just now of spectres, my dear Ferdi-
nand, I meant simply that ours is an age of cowardice,
that chivalry is out of place in it, and that we, who once
could consider ourselves as the masters of the universe,
61
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
are now haunted day and night by all the grim phan-
toms of revolution and civil war. In saying 'we,' I of
course allude to our order, but especially to yourself,
for whom revolution is no longer a spectre, but a stern,
ghastly reality, with which you must count and against
which you must fight. As racing-men say, you are not
having a very 'rosy time' of it just now!"
The tragic expression of fear and exasperation upon
Ferdinand's face gave way to a bitterly humorous smile.
"No," he acquiesced, in an undertone, with a sidelong
glance at her through half-closed lids, "I am not having
a very 'rosy time' of it, as you are pleased to put it."
"Naturally, for apart from anything else you are
garroted by the collar of your own conscience, or, if you
are not, you should be!" The opportunity for the thrust
had been too tempting. Her conciliatory intentions
were for the moment quite forgotten, and she tapped the
marble pavement impatiently with her narrow, admi-
rably shod foot. He shrank from the incisive sentence,
then quickly leaned forward. The tension snapped!
"My possible ruin seems to amuse you. Truly, the
joy of disparagement never dies!" His voice was rough
and uncontrolled, and he clinched his hands yet more
convulsively together. "You think I can no longer gov-
ern! You dare to hint — oh, God! no, you actually say
that my soul, my body, my honor are worthless, worn
out, that I am but the parody of a king, an apology for a
man! During all the years I have sat on the throne,
your derision, your ridicule have made me wince and
smart at every turn. You are eternally unsatisfied, you
censure everybody, you would walk through blood to
the neck to attain your desire. What are you? What
are you? What do you want of me? Tell me now, at
once, this moment, and I will give it to you so as to gain
peace once for all!"
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
His tone, at the outset almost one of fierce invective,
progressively weakened to a sort of desperate queru-
lousness, and the last words finished in a stifled wail.
He had become passionately excited, his eyes were those
of a madman. Archduchess Sophia still sat quietly
watching him with an expression of undisguised sur-
prise and interest. She seemed about to reply, when
suddenly, as if impelled by an external force, he sprang
to his feet with an oath:
"What is it that you do want?" he cried, furiously.
"My crown to put on the curly pate of your son? Do
you think you can get it? By God! you'll never get it
while I live! I'll show you yet in whose hands the
power lies — power, the only thing you love, the only
thing that touches and moves you! What else do you
care for? You have but contempt for all humanity,
your husband, your children — except Franz, who is to
be the instrument of your insane ambition — your whole
family, the Empress — myself. Ah, especially myself!
Do you think I will always be your tool ? I have been —
a weak fool for you to sacrifice at your pleasure, to crush
under the wheel of your triumphal car — but I'll show
you now even at this late hour how little I care for your
plots and counter -plots, for your — " Gasping for
breath, inarticulate with rage, he stretched out his hands
towards her, as if to seize her or hurl her from him.
Archduchess Sophia rose also. She was as calm as
ever, although this was apparently but the calm before
the storm; for her eyes looked as if she longed to do
some act of violence for which great physical force would
be necessary, and yet beneath her icy armor ran a cold
undercurrent of fear. This scene was something en-
tirely new. After all he was a king, with the powers of
his great office ready to his hand, though the hand was
such a feeble and unsteady one. Now that, in the ex-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tremity of his anger, he had momentarily forgotten his
overwhelming dread of her, he found a certain dignity,
despite his undignified language; he stood erect at his
full height, and looked more the monarch than she had
ever seen him. Had she gone too far? had she ruined
all? would this miserable man actually assert himself
after all, overrule her, thwart the plans she had laid,
and drag Austria down with him to destruction? Had
she really wrung the galled withers once too often ?
Her breath failed her, she shuddered at the vision that
flashed before her eyes; for just a moment, one short,
fleeting moment, she was daunted, had he but known it.
She bent her head and set her teeth hard.
If Ferdinand had read her aright, if he had seized this
golden opportunity, if he had had a little tenacity of
purpose — but it was not to be, and it is well for the
future of a great country that, exhausted and terrified
by his own unexampled violence, he did not rise to the
occasion. Sinking back into his great chair he closed
his eyes, overcome by the sickening feeling that he
was struggling against the inevitable, against his own
wretched fate, that fate he always accused of all his
misfortunes, and he bowed his head to the tempest
which he knew would now be his punishment.
Archduchess Sophia's eyes flashed with triumph. So
she had not been mistaken ; it was only a second of gal-
vanic energy, after all! Now her path lay plain before
her, and all there was in her of tenacious persistence and
ruthless resolution rose up to do battle for her son.
Win she would, and now!
She was as one inspired ; her extraordinary intensity
of feeling communicated itself with telegraphic rapidity
to Ferdinand, and he drew back from her apprehen-
sively.
With one swift movement she was beside him, and
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A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
gripped his shoulder beween her slender fingers with
a force that staggered and shook him from head to foot.
"Sophia! for God's sake, Sophia!" he cried, in terror.
"What are you going to do?"
"You want to know what I am going to do?" she said,
in a low voice through clinched teeth. "Well, I think
I'll tell you, but you will wish you had never asked."
She paused, pressing her lips tightly together, as if to
control a rising tide of exultation, and smiled down at
him contemptuously. How collapsed and helpless he
looked, shrunk into the depths of his great chair! She
wondered that for a moment she could have doubted
her ability to crush him. As for the Emperor, he would
have cried out if he had entertained any hope of being
heard, but he had by this time completely forgotten his
aide-de-camp, who, even had he been summoned, could
certainly not have helped him out of this mauvais-pas ,
and so he looked up at his tormentor with abject fear
and almost hypnotic fascination, as if he were drawn
against his will to utter destruction within the whirl-
pool of her ever-growing power.
"You want to know what I am going to do?" she re-
peated, still smiling and with a hard, cold certainty of
intonation and enunciation. "You will know in good
time, but first I'll tell you, once for all, what I want,
what I have wanted for many years — ah, yes! longed for
as no other woman has ever longed for anything, for no
woman's world has ever meant anything to me. You
accused me just now of feeling contempt for all human
relations. Well, it is, in a great measure, true. I am
not one to be attracted by second-rate emotions, or by
the various sensations which you sentimental people
call love — filial love, parental love, love " tout court." I
need not enumerate them all, even you must know what
I mean! I never could comprehend such idiocy. What
s 65
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
is life to most women but an ugly, degrading succession
of days and nights, shackled, enslaved, and cursed ? And
all because every woman's ambition turns towards love,
or the pretence of love, towards social successes, luxury,
a grand marriage, or, if she be so inclined, towards chil-
dren that are first mere playthings and afterwards be-
come tyrants!"
Her face changed suddenly, as the face of one might
change who passes from the first exultation of success
to the fruition of long-deferred hope. She gazed down
at him with unseeing eyes, her hand dropped from his
shoulder, and it seemed as if his cowering figure and gray,
drawn face had slipped from her consciousness, as things
no longer of consequence or meaning. To the submis-
sive Emperor there was something almost appalling in
this visible union between the evident activity of her
soul and the marble-like inactivity of her body; her
silence seemed unnatural, worse than speech, and it
brought additional distress to his overstrained nerves,
without, however, lessening that curious and weird fas-
cination she exercised over him. After a moment she
resumed, still without appearing to see him, and in a
slow, meditative voice, as if thinking now aloud rather
than addressing him.
"Women! what are they — even those whom one calls
great — but creatures of the moment, beings whom a mere
grain of dust may blind, who are bred to smother hate
under smiles and disgust under compliments, who are
broken in early youth to the full hypocrisies of human
life, and who, as a rule, are governed by purely sensual
motives? What were Catherine of Russia, Cleopatra,
Marguerite of Burgundy, Elizabeth of England, and
their like, but slaves to their impulses, endlessly dis-
satisfied, unreliable, untrustworthy, unable to conquer
themselves or to lead others, except by cruelty!"
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
,Then her eyes flashed into life again.
"I am not ruled by what fills up other women's lives,
by hand touching hand, or lips touching lips, by the per-
fume of a flower or by the state of the weather. I do
not exist to fill other women with envy or to capture
men. Thank God, I am made differently! My desires
have nothing in common with theirs. My one ambition,
my only one, is power, as you say, but not for myself!
No, not that, but for the boy whom, ever since his birth,
I have fashioned with my own hands to be a king. My
conception of the nobility of human nature cannot be
said to be absurdly high, but a king must be sans re-
proche, free from all the ordinary tinsel of modern roy-
alty, its shams, its pretences, and its small, narrow, sor-
did views. Austria needs such a king to drag her from
the gutter of anarchy and revolution, where you and your
predecessors have criminally allowed her to fall. No,
do not interrupt me! You are a tricky egotist, without
a thought that is not concentrated upon self. You
have always considered yourself too good for the wear
and tear of real sovereignty!"
The faintest little quiver of revolt showed itself in
Ferdinand's eyes, but she silenced him with a peremptory
wave of her slim, authoritative hand, and continued:
"You have completely ignored your sacred responsi-
bilities. Such meekness as yours is, in a monarch, an
absolutely contemptible virtue, for some people call
meekness a virtue, do they not? To yield, out of sheer
lack of spirit, has been your usual principle throughout.
Your rule — one should hardly call it that — has been a
grotesque farce, with, added to it, since a year, a dan-
gerous element of tragedy, and during it you have
never accomplished anything for the good of your
people, but only infinite harm by your insane neglect
and pusillanimity."
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Her mouth was twisted with contempt, her voice had
become harsh and grating while pronouncing her inex-
orable judgment.
The Emperor shuffled his feet in a manner suggestive
of increasing discomfort, his dull eyes beginning to
blink, as eyes do in dazzling sunshine.
"You want me to abdicate in favor of your son?" he
said, suddenly, in a trembling voice. "Why do you not
say so?"
For just an instant Archduchess Sophia started in
obvious surprise. Was her Imperial dummy about to
behave like an intelligent being and spare her any
further effort?
"Is not that what you want?" he asked again, in his
thin, high-pitched, querulous voice.
"That is ex-act-ly what I want," she replied, slowly
and deliberately.
But Ferdinand was not quite as malleable as she had
hoped. He fidgeted and writhed under her scrutinizing
gaze, his face twitching fantastically and tears actually
rising in his lack-lustre eyes.
"I can't do it, Sophia, indeed I cannot. Think of my
deserting the throne when it is menaced — of showing the
white feather ! Think of the ridicule — the — the baseness
of it! I may be a weak and worthless man, as you say,
but this I cannot do ; it would be like seeing hell through
its open doors!"
The Archduchess's face whitened and her straight
brows ominously lowered over her eyes.
"You miserable wretch!" she cried, shaking from head
to foot in uncontrollable passion. "What idiotic volte-
face is this, after living a life of utter, remorseless selfish-
ness, during which all the manhood you ever possessed
has dwindled away to nothing? What insanity has
Overtaken you to propose playing the part of a man now,
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
not to mention that of a sovereign? Do you imagine
that I will allow your still-born scruples to interfere
with the fulfilment of my boy's destiny? Do you fancy
that I will let the monarchy be killed by your feeble at-
tempts to retain a hold upon what is left of it?"
She bent lower to scan his ashen cheeks, which looked
as if they would be as cold to the touch as those of a
corpse.
"You are," she resumed, keeping her eagle glance
upon him, and with a ring of sarcasm in her voice terrible
in its cold intensity — "you are a fit person to hold the
reins of a runaway chariot of state, are you not ? A nice
yellow image to waken from your reptilian lethargy now
— now that it is too late!"
The Emperor gazed at her with almost animal fear,
like a poor, crouching dog "begging off" from punish-
ment, but it was only too evident that she had no inten-
tion of relenting. With a pitiful effort he succeeded in
controlling himself for a moment, then shame, humil-
iation, and the violence of change mastered him, and
with a groan he hid his face in his hands.
An almost tangible silence reigned for a moment,
broken only by the fresh murmur of the fountains tossed
by a rising breeze. Then, in her ordinary calm and
commanding voice, the Archduchess resumed:
"You shall recall Franz at once! He has received his
baptism of fire, he has showed the metal he is made of,
and there is no longer any reason for him to" — she had
almost said "endanger his life," but checked herself and
said "remain absent" instead. "The strong hand of
youth, integrity, and fearlessness can alone arrest the
course of events; therefore you will arrange everything
as secretly and quietly as possible for your abdication.
I do not intend to have this matter discussed en famille,
it is always best to keep one's family at arm's-length!
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Not even the Empress is to know about it as yet. She
is an excellent creature, a dear, good soul, but she is
entirely at the mercy of her father - confessor, and I
desire to avoid complications. I do not ask you to lie
about the matter, because a lie is always a mistake.
Simply refrain from talking. I am not of a diplomatic
turn of mind, but diplomacy is an elastic word, and
the greatest diplomacy of all is to hold one's tongue.
In conclusion, let me add, that should you in any way
play me false, be it ever so slightly, I have means to
force you into obedience!"
The Emperor rose to his feet. He was still very white,
and there were dark rings around his eyes — he confessed
afterwards that the very sound of his sister-in-law's
voice had given him a sensation of actual nausea!
There were beads of perspiration on his forehead, he
cleared his throat as if he were suffering from a cold,
and fidgeted about as if desperately anxious to escape.
"Is that all," he asked — "all you really require of
me?"
She did not answer. Her gown rustled slightly as she
straightened herself to her full height.
He cleared his throat again. "Is that all?" he re-
peated.
"Yes, provided you promise what I ask, and keep
that promise, I think it is all; but promise you must!"
She spoke determinedly, and his face became distorted
with an expression of absolute loathing as she bent tow-
ards him. Then he replied, reluctantly and in a manner
calculated to inspire serious doubts as to his sincerity:
"I promise."
"Unstable as water," she exclaimed, piercing him with
her keen, comprehending eyes. "But I think that this
time you will follow the line of the least resistance by
holding to your word."
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Then, with a slight bow, she walked rapidly away,
leaving him beaten and humiliated, his colorless features
transformed into a vehement mask of grief, hatred, and
impotent rage; undignified, almost absurd, and rocking
to and fro, as if about to fall.
CHAPTER III
EMPEROR FERDINAND, when confronted by forces that
daunted him — for to others he opposed a monolithic
inertia — was, morally speaking, very like a hollow rub-
ber ball, yielding and soft, but extremely difficult to
permanently impress. Archduchess Sophia had ap-
plied force, and with such energy as to momentarily
impair the Imperial elasticity, but there remained still
an almost undiminished power of rolling, rebounding,
and executing resilient evasions of various kinds, and
though her threat of enforcing obedience was not by any
means an idle one, yet great things take time in doing,
and to push a monarch from his throne judiciously, and
with due regard to surrounding circumstances of a some-
what chaotic nature, must be reckoned among these.
Ferdinand, while incapable of defending it, prized his
Imperial dignity as none but utterly selfish men can
prize any of the so-called good things of this life, as none
but insignificant men can prize a purely fortuitous dis-
tinction, and now that the possibility of losing the
throne stared him in the face, he only clung the tighter
to it.
As a consequence, if he had passed his existence dis-
agreeably before, he now lived in a veritable Inferno.
Wildly suspicious of everything and everybody, his
whole attitude was that of one continually expectant of
some outrage, his eyes restlessly searched his entourage,
half defiant, incessantly watching, fearful of neglect, or
of any sign that his secret was known, and that any one
72
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
should see that his sceptre was passing away from
him.
In the meanwhile, the indomitable Archduchess bided
her time, confident that her hand held the master card,
and keeping him under the surveillance of an eye that
sent a chilly thrill through him every time he encountered
its penetrating glance.
Events moved rapidly onward, however, towards the
realization of her schemes. Less than two weeks after
the memorable interview in the "Gloriette," the Em-
peror and several members of the Imperial family, in-
cluding, of course, the Archduchess, removed from the
surcharged atmosphere of Vienna to loyal Tyrol, and
settled at Innsbruck. This was not exactly a flight, but
a "prudent step " on the part of a man too sick of body
and of heart to offer effective resistance.
After feebly attempting for a time to direct affairs
from this secure retreat, the Emperor wearied even of
this shred of sovereignty, and sent Archduke John to
Vienna, giving him full vice -regal powers. Unfortu-
nately, there was another viceroy in Hungary, as inde-
pendent of the Viennese representative as the latter
was of him, so that with the weak central authority
thus divided between two mutually hostile sections of
the country, the people drank deep of the first and most
inalienable of the rights of freemen, more dear even than
"life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," that of
quarrelling at large, violently, and indiscriminately.
German and Czech, Pole and Italian, Magyar, Slovak,
and Croat, all pursued their racial and provincial interests
without the slightest possible regard for the integrity of
the Empire. Prague lay in ruins after a fierce bom-
bardment and several days of desperate street-fighting,
and while Hungary stood ready to fight both the Slavs
and the Imperial authority, Jellachich, Ban of Croatia,
73
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
summoned an assembly of Croatian leaders to concert
measures both against the Emperor and the Hungari-
ans. Truly the apple of discord had begun to roll
merrily on!
Archduke Franz had, much to his disgust, been re-
called from the Italian war soon after his mother had
dictated that measure to his uncle, and spent a restless
two months among the mountains striving vainly —
since his whole heart and soul were far away upon the
plains of Lombardy — to interest himself in the scenes
and sports which he had loved so well and which had
never failed him before.
When at length the Emperor tardily decided to re-
visit Vienna, and to take up his residence at Schon-
brunn, he accompanied him there, glad to be so much
nearer to the scene of events, even if he were not al-
lowed to take in them the part for which he longed,
even if he were but exchanging the quiet of the hills
for the calm still lingering on the edge of the storm.
There was nothing about the grand old Imperial resi-
dence to remind one of the neighborhood of that unruly
Kaiserstadt, where now raged such a melee of racial and
social strife. Everything that met the eye bespoke it a
"haunt of ancient peace"; vision ranged restfully over
the low terraces with their broad flights of shallow mar-
ble steps and ivy-mantled balustrades, drowsy gardens,
heavy with fragrant odors, dazzling with a profusion of
magnificent bloom, great groups of velvet -boughed Si-
berian pines spreading tentlike over emerald lawns,
corbeilles wherein the flowers of Africa and India arrayed
themselves in beauty, and deep defiles of luxuriant foli-
age through which glittered the tall jets of the foun-
tains; the laughing voice of the waters and the joyous
songs of many birds, alone disturbing the summer silence
that hung golden over all.
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Jn Archduke Franz all this loveliness touched no re-
sponsive chord ; to him the splendid gates of Schonbrunn
were as the four walls of a prison. He was no longer a
boy, for though not yet quite eighteen — his birthday
fell on the i8th of August — he was a man grown, he had
lived within the circle of that fierce light which beats
upon a throne, and been prematurely ripened by all the
forcing influences that dwell there. Already he had
known warfare, danger, the leadership of men, the pleas-
ures of duty well done, the intoxication of applause; and
he cursed his present inaction while blood flowed on
every side, while there were fights to be fought, and
swords to follow the hoofs of his charger. With a hun-
dred heroic dreams surging in his brain, he fretted in-
wardly, as a high-mettled horse frets at the martingale
hampering its every movement, and sank deeper and
deeper each day in the reserve and moodiness of hope
deferred.
For the first time in her life Archduchess Sophia al-
most regretted a step taken by her, for during this period
of inaction the young Archduke fell once more under the
spell of the woman who had been the primary cause of
his joining Radetzky's army.
To this headstrong beauty the conquest of the cold,
proud, self-reliant boy, who had once already escaped
her wiles, had become a burning question of unsatisfied
vanity, almost of baffled malice. She was in the most
perfect years of her youth, at the height of her matchless
loveliness, she had not a wish she could not instantly
gratify, and her slender, arched foot was irretrievably
pressed down upon the neck of the great Viennese
world. She ruled it as she listed. Moreover, she was
thoroughly aware of her power, and of the fact that
the sceptre of great physical beauty and the skill of a
born tactician were hers, and therefore did not doubt
75
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
that thus armed she could vanquish both the Imperial
youth and his imperious mother.
Alasl of what avail is it for us to erect our sand
castles for attack or defence when any chance blast
of fate may blow them to nothing? Life hinges upon
hazard, and at every turn wisdom or folly are mocked
by it ; so at least both Archduchess Sophia and her fair
antagonist were fated to speedily discover.
It must be confessed that the lady played her cards
with amazing cleverness. Her low, sweet whisperings,
the gleam of her luminous eyes, with their dangerous
eloquence, her thrilling, musical voice, and crystalline,
tantalizing laugh, all were brought into play with ex-
treme felicity, and last, but not least, the irresistible
mournfulness which has already been mentioned, and
which at times gave so winsome a droop to the heavily
fringed lids of her dark eyes, thrilled her chivalrous young
admirer with ardent and perilous sympathy and pity.
Archduke Franz's strength had as yet, of course, the
polish of steel that has never been dimmed, and he
thought himself quite secure, believing, as all very
young men do, that he could handle fire without feel-
ing the flame — a complete self-confidence not without
its own grandeur, but bound to find itself mistaken
ninety-nine times out of every hundred.
She drew him on and on; the real instinct, the true
pleasure of this soft, exquisite creature being, after all,
cruelty and the satisfaction of her every whim, and he,
whenever he was in her presence, showed by the very
darkening of his eyes, the lowered gentleness of his voice,
that, as day followed day, his enslavement grew more
and more complete, and that her toils were being drawn
tighter and tighter about him.
It was not alone Archduchess Sophia who writhed and
fumed as she watched this fascination of a boy, so gentle
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
of nature, so true of honor, so strong, and so frank, and,
in one word, so different from others, by the most capri-
cious of coquettes ; for all those who loved him thought
alike on the subject, none daring, however, to warn him,
save one alone who rushed in where angels might have
been afraid to tread.
Prince Richard Metternich was too young as yet to
have been influenced by life, which, to a greater or less-
er extent makes egotists and dissemblers of us all, and
had so far quite escaped its corrosion. He loved Arch-
duke Franz like a brother, nay more than any of his
(Franz's) brothers loved him — for they were by now
becoming gradually estranged from him by the slowly
growing jealousy I have already alluded to.
The bond between young Prince Metternich and his
future sovereign was a close and firmly riveted one
and their attachment to each other so uncommon that
"Richard Goldenherz " ("the golden-hearted," as he was
called by his comrades), although himself a boy of barely
nineteen, considering that it would be but a wretched
friendship that would shirk the truth when its telling
was needed, went straight to the enamoured Heir-Ap-
parent and coolly took him to task upon a subject no
man in his senses thinks it prudent or wise to touch upon
to another.
Moreover, this wiseacre, yet in his teens, far from
mincing matters, spoke out his mind roundly, and de-
clared unblushingly and in the most decisive fashion
that the all-conquering lady of his thoughts was "a pan-
ther with merciless claws," " a capricious witch, scatter-
ing coquetries broadcast, and making her unfortunate
husband ridiculous," and, in one word, attributed to her
all the wanton treachery of a social Circe, playing un-
scrupulously and matchlessly with the hearts and lives
of men.
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Franz listened to him with ominous tranquillity, and,
when at last the impetuous flood of words ceased, in-
formed his self-appointed mentor that even "old friend-
ship" may be officious and impertinent, that the office
of moral censor sat very ill on so inexperienced a coun-
sellor, that attentions to young married women were not
by any manner of means uncommon transgressions in
gay Vienna, and that by this and by that — as the Irish
put it — his (Richard's) virtue, need not be alarmed, since
the lady under discussion was not at all what he sup-
posed her to be, but an angel of purity and innocence,
enduring with! admirable and extraordinary fortitude
her most miserable lot.
The poor counsellor, totally routed and deeply hurt
when he found that his excellently meant advice was
so ill-received, crept away to nurse his wounds in soli-
tude, while Franz, stung to madness by words which had
unwittingly heaped fuel on the flame, began to be cer-
tain that there remained for him on earth nothing
worth heeding, remembering, or caring for, but that one
slender, graceful being who had shackled him, as in gyves
of iron, with the silky locks of her yellow hair.
That very night there was a demi-gala dinner at
Schonbrunn on the occasion of some birthday or an-
niversary, and, in spite of Archduchess Sophia's pro-
tests, "Archduke Franz's Siren" — as the enchanting
blonde aux yeux noirs was now designated — was present,
looking more enticing and more than ever determined to
conquer.
With her glittering hair crowned by the velvety blue
of priceless sapphires, her exquisite form shrouded but
not in any way concealed by clouds of snow-white gauzes
light as morning mists, and her dark eyes gleaming
with mischief, she seemed to have set her will upon
making her beauty more than mortal, in order to goad
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A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
until he was utterly her bond-slave, "pied et poings
li£s." His eyes followed her with a look of admira-
tion which she fanned to fire by glances of superhuman
witchery, or by the mere sweep of her dress across his
feet. To arouse and then play with the self-contained
nature of her Imperial prize was a regal de deesse for this
voluptuous coquette, and certainly on that night she
surpassed herself and mastered him as Vivien did her
lover under the murmuring foliage of Broceliande.
Perchance, the only compensation which the revolu-
tionary climax offered was that it put yet another tem-
porary end to this perilous game, else, like Antony, for-
getting all for his Queen's blandishments, the young
Archduke might have been sore tempted to leave his
shield for foes to mock at, his sword to rust, and his
honor to drift away while he lay lapped in the love of a
worthless woman. But all was not yet over between
those two, alas! -and more was to follow when graver
cares than those of love and passion lulled a little around
the young Emperor that was to be.
September was on the wane, and autumn drew near,
heralded by a glory of heliotrope and " Louise de Savoie "
roses, which filled the old park with exquisite fragrance,
when alarming intelligence arrived. Hungary had al-
ready broken loose, Kossuth was dictator, and swiftly
on the heels of these heavy blows came the news that
Count Lamberg, hurrying to take the chief command of
the Imperial troops in the revolted kingdom, which had
just been intrusted to his strong, firm hands, had been
met by a mob upon the bridge at Buda-Pesth, and bru-
tally hacked to pieces with scythes and spades. A week
later the seismic wave had radiated to Vienna itself, as
to a volcano which for a long time has muttered and
threatened unheeded, so that the 6th of October was
rendered memorable by an explosion that not only
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
numbered among its many victims the Minister of War,
Count Baillet de Latour, but sent Emperor Ferdinand
galloping as fast as his horses could drag him from the
vicinity of his raging capital.
A day or so before the outbreak, having been asked to
authorize a scheme for quelling the vehemence and tur-
bulence of his good burghers by force of arms, the Em-
peror, who, though irresolute and broken in health and
spirit, was by no means devoid of the hereditary Habs-
burg courage, ordered his carriage, and, accompanied
only by one aide-de-camp, proceeded to drive through
the concourse of violently excited people thronging the
Leopoldstadt, the Josephstadt, and all those thorough-
fares which had been reported to him as most danger-
ous.
Of course, what was bound to take place happened,
for the Viennese, loyal at heart, in spite of their over-
heated heads and seething rancors, and always disposed
to make much of their Emperors, as soon as they caught
sight of Ferdinand leaning carelessly back in his victoria
and accompanied merely by an aide-de-camp, began to
cheer him enthusiastically. Naturally this delighted
the monarch, and upon his return he declared, with a
chuckle, and in the popular dialect invariably spoken
by the Imperial family and the aristocracy:
" /' auf mane guten Wianer Schiessen ! Gar Ka' Red;
die san ja mane liaben kinder!"
(I shoot my good Viennese? Not a bit of it. They
are my own dear children.)
Thus absolutely deceived by the expressions of an al-
most instinctive sentiment of affection for the ruler,
Ferdinand was thrown into a correspondingly severe
confusion and consternation when Count Latour fell a
victim to the obstinately conciliatory Imperial policy,
and, absolutely at his wit's end, he could think of no
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
better move than his lamentably ill-advised flight to
the Moravian fortress of Olmutz.
The maintenance of order in the capital had been in-
trusted to the National Guards, a militia for the most
part disaffected, and to the Academic Legion, a student
corps frequently designated in its political aspect —
which was insanely inflammatory and seditious — as the
" Aula," from the fact of its holding meetings in the hall
of the University. Troops of the line to the number of
some twelve thousand men, under Count Auersperg, were
scattered about the suburbs of the city.
The students earnestly desired "freedom," and this
they could find according to their notions only under a
republican regime. Desirous of doing away with the
existing form of government, they naturally hated and
feared the War Minister of a constitutional monarchy,
who, moreover, was a man renowned for courage and
energy, and lost no opportunity of making him a scape-
goat for all the evils, real or imaginary, that they consid-
ered the people were suffering. They worked actively
for his overthrow among the ignorant populace, de-
nouncing him in inflammatory speeches at tavern meet-
ings or street assemblages, and, even within the precincts
of the University itself, circulating placards demanding
vengeance for his alleged misdeeds, and inspiring news-
paper cartoons against him. Finally, a few days before
the outbreak, when a large part of the National Guard
and the proletariat were convinced that Latour was
really a monster, deserving of even worse than death,
they worked themselves up to the point of declaring that
he should be hanged.
Nor was the match to fire the train long wanting.
Troops from the capital had been ordered to proceed
against the Hungarians, for whom, as rebels against the
government, the malcontents had a fellow-feeling, and a
6 81
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
certain grenadier battalion, long quartered amid metro-
politan delights, had no desire to go to the front, and
accordingly fraternized with the disaffected portion of
the populace and the National Guard.
On the night of the 5th of October a deputation of Na-
tional Guards waited upon the War Minister, asking that
the battalion should not be dispatched from the city.
Latour referred the request, as a matter beyond his im-
mediate decision, to the military commander, Count
Auersperg, who, of course, refused it, and directed that a
force of cavalry should be on hand to insure the obedi-
ence of the recalcitrant grenadiers.
The National Guard and the "Aula" could not tamely
submit to this new exhibition of "arbitrary" power.
Delegations went out to the suburbs, under cover of
darkness, and worked to such effect that by the following
morning a section of the railway over which the troops
were to be sent had been torn up, and a barricade,
manned by a strong force, erected on the bridge across
which it was necessary for them to march. In a few
hours, when an attempt to force the passage of the
bridge had resulted in the desertion to the populace of
the mutinous grenadiers, and in the sanguinary defeat
of the attacking column by overwhelming numbers, the
whole city was aflame with excitement, for was not tyr-
anny again at her work of crushing the liberties of free-
men? While the military hesitated, and their com-
mander rushed off for a consultation to the War Office,
whither many ministers, deputies, and officers of the
National Guard had already betaken themselves with a
similar intent, heated orators harangued tumultuous
crowds in the streets, gunsmiths' shops were looted for
weapons, frothing students rushed from house to house
directing that boiling water and boiling oil be kept in
readiness to cast from the upper windows, and barri-
82
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
«•
cades rose as if by magic across the principal thorough-
fares.
Meanwhile, from the War Office, orders were issued
to put down by main force the armed resistance in the
suburbs, and some pacificatory proclamations to the peo-
ple, who were now beyond all pacification, were made.
Outside the city there was a collision between a detach-
ment of the Academic Legion and the Government forces ;
inside, the loyal section of the National Guard, while at-
tempting to prevent the sounding of the tocsin, was at-
tacked by the mutinous majority, aided by the mob, and
driven in a bloody rout into the great cathedral church
of St. Stephen, where they barricaded and defended
themselves with the greatest valor.
Count Latour now made the first of his magnanimous
mistakes. The guard of the War Office, in the heart of
this rebellious city, consisted of little more than four
companies of infantry; but on hearing how the loyal
militia were besieged in the church he sent three com-
panies and two cannon to their relief, thus decreasing
his available force to about two hundred men. The
officer in command was under orders to return for the
protection of the War Office as soon as he had accom-
plished his mission ; but the mob had by now increased
to such overpowering numbers that not only was the re-
treat of his forces cut off, and they compelled to escape
by whatever route offered, but a battalion of infantry
sent from the army without , to insure the safety of Count
Latour, was attacked so fiercely from all sides and from
the windows of the houses that it retired in confusion.
Then the mob surged up to the gates of the War Office.
Cut off and beleaguered on every side, Count Latour had
disposed his little garrison for a siege, fastening the great
front gates, barricading the rear doors, and disposing his
men for the defence of the windows.
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
It was a strange sight that the gray-headed soldier
looked down upon. Below surged and swayed a terrible
human sea, roaring and howling with a ferocity that fre-
quently blended all words and individual cries into one
heart-shaking whirlwind of sound. There was a bub-
bling foam of open-mouthed faces, those strangely, in-
conceivably villainous and brutal types that seem for
years, for centuries even, to hide in the cellars and sew-
ers of a great city, and to creep forth in dark times like
these, when Cruelty and Horror are abroad ; while here
and there burst up from the weltering commotion a
spray of naked arms, brandishing crowbars, cudgels,
lengths of lead pipe, pikes, axes, hammers, cutlasses,
and a motley array of weapons captured from the
defeated soldiery or looted from the shops of the
city.
Now and again the dark waves broke apart, showing
for an instant, before they rushed together again, in-
dividual forms, insane atoms that went to form the total
of this hideous flood, figures in the uniforms of the Na-
tional Guard, the Academic Legion, the mutinous grena-
dier battalion, laborers, thieves, murderers from the
slums, market-women shrieking as ferociously as their
Parisian sisters of 1793, and not infrequently well-dress-
ed people, whose respectable appearance was somewhat
contradicted by the furtive way in which they slipped
about and threaded their way among the press. These
were the agents of various political societies, the walk-
ing delegates of revolution, dropping a word here,
urging there, advising everywhere, avoiding active par-
ticipation as far as possible, but pushing on the mad-
dened throng to deeds of blood. The yells and cries now
rose in a full-throated tempest, and now broke and scat-
tered in hoarse, individual vociferations, culminating
always in one terrifying shriek of "Death to Latour!
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Do^vn with the tyrant! Nieder mit dem Hund. Hang
him! Hang him!"
Many times during the immediately preceding days
the War Minister had been warned that his life was in
danger. He had shrugged his shoulders then, he shrug-
ged them now, as he listened to these roars of menace,
and coolly surveyed this packed mass of human wild
beasts thirsting for his blood. Below in the court-yard
his one cannon was pointed at the great doors, which
groaned and thundered to the assault without; behind
it stood the gunners, steady at their post, waiting the
command to fire; on either side was a solid column of
grenadiers with fixed bayonets, their officers at their
head. Every time the doors seemed to yield or buckle
to a fresh blow, he could see the men start and lean for-
ward, like eager hounds with the quarry in sight, wait-
ing for the slipping of the leash.
What would happen when that gate did finally burst
open was before the minister's inward eye. The crashing
discharge, the canister at that terribly short range cut-
ting a ghastly lane of death through the dense masses with-
out, the ordered charge of disciplined troops passing over
that maddened herd, the flight, the shrieking and the
slaughter of women and children. A well-timed sortie of
even so small a force might disperse the cowardly mob,
and, on the other hand, if the grenadiers were beaten
back, he could at least defend the building until help
should arrive. The orders were given. Should he swiftly
countermand them before it was too late? At any mo-
ment the gate might give way. He felt that he had al-
ready leaned too much towards conciliation; besieged
and threatened, he had not yet fired a shot in defence,
when to defend himself seemed the only soldierly — nay,
common-sense thing to do. And yet there were his in-
structions from the Emperor. Should he risk it ? Should
85
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
he make one more trial for a peaceful solution of the
trouble? His eye glanced again over the impenetrable
press of ignorance and blind fury outside, and he smiled
in pitying contempt.
A shattering blow from without and a crash in the
court-yard announced that a portion of the gate had
been driven in. With one stride the minister was at the
window.
"Don't fire! Don't fire!" he cried to the troops be-
low. "Throw open the gates!"
"Let them come in, I will speak to them!" he said,
turning impatiently to the deputies and ministers who
surrounded him, and were trying to reason with him.
An aide-de-camp ran down with orders. At once
the threatening muzzle of the gun was swung around,
and as the dismayed and disheartened soldiers drew
back, the gates opened, and the dammed-up flood swept
through the portal with a roar. It was the rush of be-
siegers through a breach, not by any means the advance
of a populace impressed by the War Minister's frank,
manly, and heroic display of confidence.
Quickly he himself saw his fatal mistake, but, alas! no
opportunity was given him to retrieve his position; Al-
most immediately the people thundered through the
corridors, drunk with rage and triumph, shrieking again
loudly for his blood. Gaining the stairway from the
now thoroughly demoralized soldiers set to guard them,
they swarmed through the upper stories of the building,
battering in the doors, hurling the furniture and equip-
ment of the rooms through the windows into the street,
plundering or destroying with insensate brutality every-
thing that came in their way. There was no time to be
lost.
Urging the ministers and others who offered him as-
sistance to look to their own safety, Count Latour, at-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tended by his aide-de-camp and several officers of the
army, ascended to the top story to seek a way of escape.
The minutes passed. Drunken fury, unimaginably
disgusting and horrible to behold, reigned in the War
Office. There were many ring-leaders but no leader,
and the search for the hated Latour appeared to be de-
generating into a mere orgy of robbery and wanton vio-
lence, when loud shouts arose without, and those craning
from the windows could see a white flag slowly forcing a
passage through the dense crowd towards the gate. A
deputation had arrived from the National Diet for the
protection of the War Minister!
Slowly pushing their way up the packed staircase,
now thrust upward by a rush from below, now forced
down by a torrent from above, the deputies at length
encountered some of Count Latour 's companions, who,
despairing of escape, had prevailed upon him to seek
concealment while they scouted through the building
for possible assistance ; and they in their blindness con-
trived that the deputies should reach the Count. Swift
consultations followed in an isolated chamber, while the
tumult sounded all about, lost in the labyrinth of rooms
and corridors. Count Latour's resignation was urged
upon him, and granted by that stout old soldier, who
conceded for the restoration of peace what he would not
for his own safety; but even this failed to pacify the
hordes that were by now storming towards the doors of
the apartment in which he was, clamoring to see him,
and threatening even the lives of the mediators if he did
not show himself at once. The resignation as written
was made conditional upon the approval cf the Em-
peror ; but though the deputies repeatedly protested that
this would be a fatal objection, Count Latour would not
have it otherwise.
Nevertheless the people's representatives still had con-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
fidence in their official influence. Pledging their pro-
tection to the Count, they again faced the pikes and
crowbars, declaring that he should be arrested in due
form for trial and impeachment, but demanding as a
condition that a guard be selected who would swear to
defend him to the death. Twenty-five men, workmen,
students, and National Guards, came forward and sol-
emnly took the oath; a moment later the door opened
and Latour stepped out into the corridor, calmly, as if
about to assume the chair at some great assemblage.
"I am here, meine Kinder,11 he said, quietly, "a man
of honor, with a clear conscience, does not fear either
bayonets or daggers. You have offered to guard me.
I surrender myself into your hands!"
A roar of execration was the only reply. The depu-
ties and the guard closed around him and began to de-
scend the staircase, closely pressed and almost suffocated
by the mob. Oaths, yells, and threats of death rang
from all sides. Some of the guard endeavored to protect
their prisoner, but the most part, animated by the worst
intentions and anxious only to prevent his escape, added
their voices to the storm of jeers and insults.
Panting, struggling, forcing towards their victim from
every direction, the crowd seethed and surged around;
hands thrust through the ring of men, plucking and tear-
ing at him ; one dashed his hat over his eyes ; here and
there clenched fists dealt him heavy blows; one man,
taller than the rest, leaned over and slashed him across
the face with a quadrupled cord, shouting, "This is to
hang you with!" and every moment, as they slowly de-
scended towards the court-yard, some defender or dep-
uty was torn from his side and the places filled by im-
placable monsters, who were rapidly losing even all
human semblance in their bestial ferocity.
Shouts of savage welcome greeted the arrival in the
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
court-yard of the terrible cortege. "Hang him! Hang
him!" roared the mob. Pushed, pulled, struck at, vio-
lently passed from hand to hand through a whirl of
bristling weapons, his own guard now foremost among
the assailants, the unhappy minister was thrust up
against the wall. A young officer, greatly devoted to
him, Captain Count de Gondrecourt, breaking a way
through the maddened throng, flung himself before his
chief, vainly defending him with his bare hands, but he
was torn off and cast aside, like an importunate child
too insignificant to punish, and there was no further
protection for Count Latour. One assassin cut at him
with a sabre, another struck him a fearful blow with a
crowbar; hammers, pikes, bayonets, musket-butts de-
scended upon him. Dashed to the ground by a tem-
pest of blows, trampled by the feet of the mob, and
literally torn limb from limb by rending hands, he was
yet seen to snatch at a bayonet which was thrust into his
thigh. Still living, he was dragged through pools of his
own blood and hanged to a window-bar. What was left
of his mangled, shredded body fell when the cord broke,
and the last spark of life was trodden out by furious
market-women, stamping with demoniacal laughter
upon that palpitating, mutilated thing, which had been
one of God's grandest, noblest creatures.
His clothing, torn to bits already, was collected for
souvenirs, handkerchiefs were dipped in his blood, and,
until late at night, the naked and hideously mangled
trunk swung by the neck from a lamp-post, an object of
insult for the populace and a target for the bullets of the
National Guard. Thus died an honorable gentleman,
whose only offences were his loyalty to his sovereign and
his dauntless courage.
At Schonbrunn the consternation was great. All was
hurry and bustle for immediate departure. Ferdinand,
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ill and helpless as usual, looked like a beaten child, and
avoided the eye of his young nephew, whose ardent soul
chafed at the inaction into which he was forced. Poor
Archduke Franz ! He implored to be allowed to join the
troops and throw himself at the throat of that tower-
ing spectre of revolution which was having it all its own
way at Vienna, and when this request was refused he
positively sickened with despair, and with the hungry,
unsatisfied desire to fight, and to be of use, instead of
sitting at home like a frightened woman.
When, finally, at four o'clock in the morning, the
Court departed under strong military escort to take
refuge in the fortress of Olmutz, he yielded to his uncle's
agonized entreaties and rode beside the Imperial car-
riage mile after mile in the gray dawn, trying by his pres-
ence to reassure and console the broken-spirited old man
moaning and muttering prayers on the silken cushions
inside.
That terrible journey, in the teeth of a furious storm
of wind and rain, remained like some ghastly nightmare
upon the mind of Archduke Franz. Water fell in sheets
from the leaden skies, hiding the whole landscape and
filling the air with masses of gray vapor. In places the
road was barely passable, for the smallest brooks had
suddenly swollen to regular torrents, sweeping away the
grassy banks and turning everything to liquid mud.
As the day advanced the gloom deepened amid an
increasing sound of splashing water, that muffled the
noise of the carriage-wheels and the stamping of the
horses' hoofs. Soon the fog and the darkness compelled
the fugitives to advance more cautiously and slowly, so
that hours followed hours, and became a long, slow tort-
ure to the Emperor, and an unceasing weariness to all
those who were with him.
At last the fortress was reached, and the Emperor,
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
whp for the first time in his life had experienced true
discomfort and real, crushing bodily fatigue, broke down
completely as he was assisted to alight. In spite of the
lateness of the hour the young Archduke seated himself
beside the bed whereon his Imperial uncle had hurriedly
been placed, and now cowered, lost in lamentation and
almost delirious with exhaustion and remorse.
Outside the storm still raged furiously, growing wild-
er and wilder as the night advanced. The wind beat
against the massive walls of the fortress and shrieked
like a tortured soul through the endless windings of the
stone-flagged passages and corridors, echoes of thunder
now and again sounded like salvoes of artillery, while the
blue-and-purple glance of lightning shot through the
chinks of the thick curtains drawn before the windows.
But the tumult in Archduke Franz's heart was far more
terrible than that which was abroad over the little town-
ship of Olmiitz. Vainly he strove to console and com-
fort his wretched charge, vainly he tried to reason with
his own misery and anger ! Stiff with fatigue in his chair,
scarcely moving, except when he bent over the stricken
Emperor to dose him with soothing potions, he felt the
torture of a great shame and a great disappointment.
It was his first experience of mental pain, and he im-
agined that all joy, all hope was being trampled to death
within his heart by its intensity, and felt as if years must
elapse before strength was once more given to him to
gather up his moral courage. His imagination dwelt
persistently upon the scenes described by the few im-
perialists who had witnessed the cowardly assassination
of Latour. He saw incessantly a maddened mob tearing
and rending the body of that brave soldier whom he had
known and loved, and he felt sick, as a man may feel
sick at some revolting sight, his flesh shuddered, and he
loathed himself for having consented to come away, for
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
having shared a flight which he considered as too humili-
ating to be borne, and degrading beyond anything a
monarch could have done. He thought bitterly of Louis
XVI. running away from the scaffold, a deed he had al-
ways looked upon with contempt, and smothered a curse
through his clenched teeth. Why not face danger, risk,
peril ? Would not certain doom have been far easier to
bear than remorse and shame? Why not show a bold
front and emulate those other people of the Terror who
did not run away, and who walked up the slippery, crim-
soned steps of the guillotine with smiling lips and chal-
lenging, undaunted, unflinching eyes? Why not "faire
son metier de Roy T ' — why not ? Ah ! why not show this
frenzied canaille that fear is not numbered among the
hereditary vices with which monarchs are credited ? Was
the Imperial ermine growing too heavy for modern shoul-
ders, were the orb and the sceptre no longer in harmony
with the time?
The lad writhed at the thought, and cold perspiration
stood thick on his puckered brow. Surely there could
not be on the face of the earth a man so weak, so guilty,
so pusillanimous as his uncle, he, one of the chief rulers
of the world, in whose stewardship the fate of fair lands
and loyal peoples had been placed. Was the immensity
of his responsibilities only equalled, then, by the bound-
lessness of his incapacity ? — was he fit only to lie secure in
a satin-lined shelter? Why had he been selected, pre-
ordained to meet with the frightful exigencies of the pres-
ent situation, he who seemed to appreciate of the throne
naught save its soft, velvet upholstery and the immuni-
ties it gave him ? What would become of the monarchy,
aye, of the country itself, in such palsied hands?
To the young man keeping vigil through the watches
of that appalling night, the power and might and glory
of the House of Habsburg had, since the cradle, been a
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
religion, a creed, a faith. He was certainly not ambitious
for himself, but he burned to give all the years of his life
to the service of the monarchy created by Rudolph I. so
many centuries ago, and which had been ever a proud
and a noble one.
" L'Etat, c'est moi!" would never be his maxim, but
he was beyond measure resentful and infuriated when
his eyes fell upon the man shivering on the bed beside
the chair where he himself writhed with humiliation,
and who went many steps further than that and cared
apparently not a straw what became of the State so long
as he, the Emperor, need sacrifice not a whit of his com-
fort or peace in screening it from harm. What a cruel,
senseless thing was destiny !
Again he glanced at the tear-flushed face upon the
lace-bordered pillows, and as he did so he drew a long
breath of relief, for Ferdinand at last was asleep. A
ray from the night-lamp-fell upon the swollen features,
showing the still trembling mouth and nervously quiver-
ing eyelids.
Very softly the self-appointed nurse drew the gold-
brocaded bed-curtain between the sleeper and the faint,
rosy light, and was on the point of retreating on tip-
toe from the room, when a small side door noiselessly
unclosed and his mother entered. She was very pale,
and there was a suggestion of a tremor about her firm
lips. She went a step nearer to him, the folds of her
loose gown of soft, white wool trailing noiselessly on the
thick carpet.
"Come!" she whispered. Her imperious manner was
a little less so than usual, perchance there was a tiny
suspicion of tremor in her lowered voice, too. He obeyed
eagerly, and followed her through the dimly lighted
passages to her own apartments, where shaded lamps
and great baskets of mountain-flowers, placed there by
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
her orders — for she, too, in her cold, strange, unemotional
way, loved all the blossoms that bloom, and was seldom
without some fragrant cluster or bouquet about her —
relieved the severity of the tapestried walls and stiff fur-
niture of carved ebony and palisander. She signed to
him to sit down, and with the caressing grace she used
with him alone, and that but rarely, she tilted his face
upward and looked into his eyes; but much of the im-
potent rage which had racked him during the past hours
still lingered in their blue depths, and he rose abruptly,
as if dreading her scrutinizing gaze.
The Archduchess understood very well the strife which
went on in his soul, the impulse for expression which
could scarcely be resisted, and which would, if yielded
to, lay his innermost feelings bare to her, and also the
iron restraint he was endeavoring to keep upon himself
touched a certain chord in her mind, a certain pulse in
her heart, as nothing else could have done. She mo-
tioned him back to his chair.
"Franz, hear me a moment," she said, in a low tone,
through which there ran an unwonted thrill of passionate
tenderness. "You have long known that the Crown of
the Habsburgs is to be yours; lately you have been in
a position to judge how ill your uncle can cope with his
almost insurmountable difficulties, and although you
have concealed it well, yet I have noticed how im-
measurable is your scorn for his weakness!" For a fleet-
ing instant a gleam of admiration passed into her eyes.
" You are now a man in the full acceptance of the word,"
she continued, pride vibrating in her every accent, "and
I will force your uncle to abdicate in your favor, to re-
linquish into your hands the reins of government he is
incapable of wielding; for you, and you alone, can save
Austria!"
As she spoke, a vivid, palpitating, intoxicating hope
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
slowly dawned in the boy's eyes. He foresaw in a flash
all the loss of freedom, of " j&ie de vivre," which would
be entailed on him by the assumption of the weighty
Dual Crown; he realized that as his uncle's successor his
future would be neither peaceful nor easy; but the hot,
hope-inspiring blood of youth was surging madly in his
veins and rendered him willing to set no limits to the
sacrifices which his Imperial duties would exact from
him. He loathed the veulerie of the times, and longed
for the means to prove that the old, fearless, high-hand-
ed, single-hearted, loyal, and pure devotion to duty,
which sees in the whole teeming universe but one task
to accomplish and but one straight and worthy way of
accomplishing it, lived still in the breast of at least one
monarch.
The evanescent breath of his noble purpose passed
like the cool breeze of an April morn, sweet with the
scent of meadow blossoms, across the stormy, passion-
heated atmosphere of the room, and seemed to influence
the Archduchess's meditations, for her next sentence
was colored by his thoughts more than by her own, as if
she had listened to his silence.
"Yes," she said, gently, "you will be a great Emper-
or, my son. You will show the world what a monarch
can be, and what infinite good he can work for his peo-
ple, but" — and here she hesitated a little — "in order to
achieve this you must not throw down your heart like
a naked, trembling, panting thing, to be played with
and trampled upon by that very world. You are just
now under the influence of a great exaltation and ready
to give freely all your future, to fling away all personal
interest for the honor and preservation of your House,
and to ask nothing more of earth and heaven than to
fully and brilliantly accomplish this heavy task. That
vision of what may be dazzles you as the mirage of a
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
green oasis blinds the desert pilgrim, but I, with chillier
prescience, can, alas, foresee the weariness behind the
charm, and the heaviness of the yoke you are about
to assume."
This momentary compassion, this apparent desire to
draw him back on the very brink of resolve, was, per-
chance, the cleverest thing which that extraordinarily
clever woman had ever done. To demurely point out
to the enthusiastic, excited boy, difficulties and obstacles,
was, in his present mood, nothing short of a challenge,
an open hint, a doubt as to his steadfastness and power
of renunciation, a doubt, she realized perfectly well, that
he would not endure, a challenge he would unhesitatingly
accept.
He sprang to his feet, his face colorless, his mouth set,
and caught her wrist in his cold fingers.
"There is no need," he said, in a low, concentrated
voice, "to be afraid for me. You say that His Majesty
is willing to abdicate in my favor; let him do so, I am
ready to relieve him of his charge now, at once, and to
assume all the penalties that go with it!"
A faint, almost imperceptible smile of triumph trem-
bled on the lips of the able king-maker at his side, but he
did not notice it, for he was in that state of mental ten-
sion where elusive smiles and delicate diplomacy pass
unrecognized. His mother had stung and humiliated
him profoundly, but he did not know that she had played
him as a good angler plays a trout.
He had little vanity, but still he knew himself to be
one of those who can carry through a resolve, whatever
it is, to the very end without wincing; he knew, also,
that he was no mere child to be treated with pitying
indulgence and warned of every pitfall. This, too, com-
ing from the only living being who had a real knowledge
of him, made his white cheeks suddenly flame with
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
notification, and cast a shadow of perplexity upon his
eyes. Had he but been able to see clearly, he would
have perceived that his mother was in an absolute
ecstasy of pride and delight, surely in itself a startling
thing in so cold and self -controlled a woman.
She was intolerant of illusions as a rule, but her son's
present illusive mood served her purpose admirably,
and, moreover, she, perchance, remembered the old
saying which states that " les illusions sont des zeros,
mais c'est avec les zeros qti'on fait les beaux chiffres!"
But now, almost in the moment of her triumph, a keen,
unexpected sense of regret arose in her — strange, indeed,
in one who having put a hand to the plough never looked
backward. Nevertheless, her indescribable air of indif-
ference and disdain suddenly disappeared, and with a
gentle, caressing movement she drew him towards her,
actuated by this sudden weakness, this sudden yearning
and wistful desire that all she had done to secure him the
throne had been left unaccomplished, that her boy could
still remain all her own, and the kiss she gave him was
that of a mere loving, anxious mother. "My own dar-
ling!" she murmured.
The words escaped her unawares, and when they were
uttered she longed to recall them. This was not the
time for demonstrative affection, least of all from a
woman such as she; and, straightening herself to her
full height and casting off her softer mood with a little
shake of the shoulders, habitual to her when she had,
as she called it, "caught herself napping," she resumed
her explanation, as had this little tender interlude been
a trifle beneath notice :
"As I have just told you, I long since approached your
uncle on the subject of his abdication; to be exact, I
spoke to him very decidedly about the matter last May,
when he was still under the impression produced by the
» 97
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
March riots, and he promised me then" — she halted im-
perceptibly— "to make this sacrifice for the sake of the
country's safety. Since that time I have continually
held this promise before his eyes, and the events of the
last few days will undoubtedly lead him to fulfil it now."
"Did he consider it in the light of a sacrifice?" Arch-
duke Franz said, quietly, and without a hint of sarcasm.
The Archduchess's eyes opened a little wider, but her
answer to this inconvenient question was delivered in a
perfectly calm and secure tone.
"Oh, you see, no man desires to suffer more keenly
than is absolutely necessary, your uncle Ferdinand least
of all, and there is no doubt that he has debated the
amount of pain to be avoided or endured that hangs in
the balance of his decision against or for an abdication ;
but, taking it all in all, I think that the result of his in-
ward debates is a foregone conclusion."
The young Archduke's powers of self-restraint must
just then have amazed even the mother who had instilled
them into him. His eyes were fixed steadily upon her,
his lips were slightly parted, and his attitude indicated
careful attention, but, save for the fact that a few tiny
beads of moisture still glistened on his forehead, he
gave no sign of agitation or even of unusual interest in
what she said. And yet he was being called upon not
only to take that active part which he had dreamed
of and longed for, but actually to assume full control
of affairs, and to shoulder responsibilities a great deal
heavier than those which had staggered and unseated
the great Metternich himself! But after the first flush
of surprise, called forth by news he had never even sus-
pected and for which he was totally unprepared, he be-
trayed neither qualms nor enthusiasms. This, indeed,
was a man!
Youth has a cunning magic peculiar and enviable
98
FRANCIS-JOSKPH IN 1848
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
which can be replaced by nothing else in the world, for it
grants its possessor a quick and kaleidoscopic adapta-
bility which makes everything easy in comparison to the
inalterable habitude of maturer age. Already, in the in-
stinctive throwing back of the shoulders and holding up
of the finely shaped head, this youth, who but a few short
minutes before had been a mere unit — more gifted than
the rest, it is true — in a numerous Imperial family, a boy
exasperated by circumstances, smarting beneath the
constraint put upon him by the timorous chief of both
his House and his country, already bore himself like a
sovereign of twice his years and a hundred times his
experience. There was no boastfulness in his attitude,
not a trace of pose or of affectation in this curious and
immediate outward assumption of responsibility and
care ; evidently emanating from the fulness of the strong-
ly beating young heart, the swiftly working brain, eager
to go at once on duty and to direct the rescue of Crown
and Fatherland.
Archduchess Sophia sat still as a statue, her eyes fixed
upon him; then she laughed — a soft, victorious laugh.
"Speaking in all moderation," she declared, "I think
that I may rely wholly upon you to be what I have al-
ways prayed you should be — a great ruler."
He looked at her gravely, then smiled and said, very
slowly, with an effect supremely impersonal, "I may at
least promise you that I will do the uttermost in my
power to revive and maintain the Habsburg traditions."
The Archduchess had slipped an emerald ring from
her finger, and was twirling it round in the palm of her
hand.
"We have had tawdry imitations on the throne, which
were as different from the old Habsburgs as pinchbeck is
from gold," she mused aloud, glancing obliquely at him,
"but you are genuine, Franz; thank God for that! since
99
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
your occasion has come at last, and unseen hands are
pushing you towards a glorious destiny."
He did not speak, he did not look at her, but he caught
his breath audibly, a long, tremulous breath !
Suddenly the Archduchess's pale, grave face leaped
into light and color, her eyes blazed, and moved seem-
ingly by an inexplicable impulse — for the silence had
apparently remained quite unbroken save by that low,
tremulous sigh — she rose swiftly, ran lightly across the
room, and, tearing aside the heavy tapestry, bared to
view the dark, narrow opening of a sliding door in the
wall, and standing within it the cowering figure of no
less a personage than Empress Maria-Anna herself.
This was a serious discovery, a terribly embarrassing
one at any rate, and Archduke Franz fell back against
the tapestried wall with an exclamation of supreme as-
tonishment. Not so Archduchess Sophia, who possessed
one of those contradictory natures which never take a
situation as one would expect it to be taken, and who,
instead of exploiting the dramatic possibilities of the
present one at the expense of the enemy, said, with the
utmost calmness : "Ah, I thought I heard a rat. Pardon
me, my dear, for this unflattering mistake. Pray come
in and form one of our little council."
Maria-Anna glanced at her terrible sister-in-law with
reproachful, tragic eyes, and would have fled had not the
Archduchess prevented this by grasping her hand and
leading her gently but inexorably to a chair by the now
almost extinguished fire.
Though nominally mistress of all the Imperial palaces
of Austro-Hungary, and supposed by the ignorant to lead
her weak, vacillating husband by a silken thread, Em-
press Maria-Anna held both housewifely and wifely reins
with a slack hand, and under her management matters
had gone hopelessly to the bad in her domain. She had
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
nothing in common with the brave, resolute, self-reliant
Sophia, of whom she stood in dumb, nameless awe. In-
deed, the latter had once or twice spoken such blightingly
plain truths to Ferdinand's self-indulgent, indolent con-
sort, and presented her with such jagged and uncom-
fortable "pieces of her mind," that she had been thrown
into violent hysterics, and had subsequently implored
her lord to send " diese Sophia" about her business, and
far away from the Hofburg or Schonbrunn. But this
was easier said than done, and he knew far too well what
manner of an enemy Sophia could become on provoca-
tion to even attempt carrying out his wife's tearful wishes.
So the Empress always avoided her autocratic sister-
in-law most scrupulously ; and when absolutely forced to
communicate with her upon private matters, invariably
did so through the priestly intervention of her father-
confessor, a shrewd and sagacious man, who, she con-
sidered, was far more able to cope with her than she her-
self was.
Now, however, she was face to face with the being she
feared most in the world, and under what circumstances!
What could the masterful and unforgiving Archduchess
mean to do with her ? What dire punishment lurked be-
hind that pretence of welcome, that delicately scornful
smile, that eye that had " marked her coming, and looked
brighter when she came," in spite of the manner of that
appearance ?
The calm of the dim, sweet-scented old chamber seem-
ed surcharged with menace. Shivering with cold and
fright, the wretched Empress bent over the dying embers,
feigning to warm her shaking fingers at flames "shin-
ing solely by their absence," as the French put it, while
the amazed Archduke stood immovable, looking down
at the carpet. Archduchess Sophia alone preserved her
equanimity as absolutely as if her Imperial sister-in-law
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
had merely dropped in for a cheery morning visit, instead
of having been thus caught eavesdropping under pecul-
iarly suspicious and inconvenient circumstances.
Sophia sank into a chair facing her, leaned back with
careless grace on some cushions, and, gazing mockingly
at her, asked, serenely, "Well, now, tell me, my dear,
quite frankly, what do you think of our little project?"
Maria-Anna shrank into the utmost corner of her seat,
and her frightened, imploring eyes began to dilate with
abject terror before her arch-enemy's unexpected and tan-
talizing gentleness, a sweetness far more terrible to those
who knew Sophia well than any of her most violent out-
bursts would have been.
"Well!" repeated the latter, playing with the tassel of
a cushion, her eyes glowing maliciously.
A groan escaped the Empress's white lips.
"Reflect for a moment, if you have not as yet had
time to co-ordinate your ideas," continued the merciless
Archduchess, assuming a tone wholly argumentative.
"The day is young yet, for, lazier than we, the sun still
slumbers."
Maria- Anna tried to speak, but in vain; her tongue
was cleaving to the roof of her mouth, and with an en-
couraging smile her tormentor said, in a more and
more ominously coaxing manner, " I see ! No doubt you
would prefer to speak to me alone. Why did not you
say so at once?" Then, turning to the worried and puz-
zled Archduke, she added, softly, "Will you go and
wait for me in my bedroom, Franz? I will be with
you directly."
He glanced at his mother a little wistfully, as if he did
not quite understand or like this move, but he knew her
too well to resist, and, bowing low before the Empress,
who looked at this moment anything but Imperial or
imposing, he went without a word.
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
•sOutside both rain and wind were still raging, and, al-
though it was now past three o'clock, there was not even
a hint of dawn to be seen through the heavy clouds
shouldering each other above the horizon, and the air
was so raw that when the Archduchess threw open a
window for an instant, to clear the heavy atmosphere of
the room, the tempest burst in with a roar like that of
unchained wild beasts, and it took all her strength to
close it again.
She herself confessed when, long afterwards, she re-
lated the scene, having been glad of this short buffet
with an insensate force, for at that moment all that
was most cruel, most intolerant, most tyrannical in her
was aroused, and she was in the humor to hurt some-
thing; the first thing that came within the grasp of
her hand. Of a truth, the bantering, mocking mood,
which she had constrained herself to adopt before her
son, was at an end now, and when she turned from the
window, after her victorious encounter with the elements,
her eyes were full of scorn and of command as she looked
haughtily at the cringing figure still huddled over the al-
most cold cinders.
"What possessed you to spy upon me?" she said, con-
temptuously, advancing a step or two.
"I did not come to spy upon you," murmured the
wretched, demoralized Empress.
"No, your presence behind this secret door, or rather
within it, for you knew of it — which is more than I did —
and you had, no doubt, to work some complicated piece
of machinery in order to open it, was quite fortuitous;
you will have me believe, no doubt, that you were merely
promenading inside the wall long after three in the
morning, and that quite by chance — bah! You are but
a poor liar, after all."
Before that remorseless scrutiny, those cold, level
103
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tones, that cut like the lashes of a knout, Maria-Anna
was paralyzed. She colored, grew pale again, hesitated,
tried to speak, failed, and became absolutely unable to
keep down the tremor which shook her like an ague.
The physical fear which Sophia's anger always inspired
in her, now overwhelmed her with tenfold intensity,
and assuredly a much more courageous person than she
might well have shrunk from the prospect of being
shut up with this dangerously infuriated woman, who
could neither be deceived nor softened, and who was
known to have a hand of iron when offended or in-
jured— swift to punish and slow to relent.
In the momentary silence which followed, Archduchess
Sophia, holding her victim with her eye the while, re-
viewed the situation with swift, concerted thoughts, and
to herself admitted defeat. Of ultimate success she
did not doubt, but she knew that any information pos-
sessed by the Empress was speedily transmitted to quar-
ters where sufficient power resided to delay the execution
of her schemes. Had the unbidden participant in her
counsels been any other person, she would have found
means to insure silence, but though confident that the
power she could exert over the weak, frightened woman
before her was equal to extracting any promise, she com-
prehended too well the stuff of which Maria-Anna was
made to expect that she would adhere to her word. A
promise of secrecy she, nevertheless, decided to obtain,
since the fact of its being subsequently broken would
place no despicable weapon in her hands, and, further-
more, she resolved to make her defeat on this occasion
so costly to her antagonist as to give her no opportunity
for the present to taste the sweets of her temporary
success.
"Now, my dear," she said, at length, "the rupture of
our entente cordiale" — here she laughed her little, low,
104
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
rnusical, mocking laugh — "lies in your own choice; keep
secret what you have heard here to-night, even from
your father-confessor; refrain from meddling with af-
fairs that you cannot possibly comprehend, and I will,
on my side, remain neutral where you are concerned.
On the other hand, say but one word of all this to a
living soul, and you will indeed have reason to regret it."
The words were pronounced almost lightly sneeringly,
slightingly, and without especial emphasis and accentu-
ation, more like a warning to a timid child than a men-
ace to a kindred power, and their seeming moderation,
compared to the withering anger of a few moments be-
fore, encouraged Maria-Anna to break at last her trem-
ulous silence.
"For pity's sake, Sophia, do not talk to me as if
I were a common spy. I mean no harm to you or
to Franz; but cannot you see that what you propose
would cover us with eternal shame and reproach in the
eyes of all Europe ? Cannot you relent towards us ? Will
nothing but our disgrace satisfy you?" she concluded,
hurriedly, noticing a peculiar smile which she had seen
before on Sophia's lips, and which she dreaded like a
blow.
"You are distressing yourself most needlessly," the
Archduchess replied, as quietly as ever. "You cannot
evade me nor enlist my sympathies, so it is quite useless
to try. You are aware that I am not overforbearing,
and that I will not tamely submit to treachery, or sit a
silent witness to perfidious meddlings ; therefore, be ad-
vised and accept my terms, such as they are, before I re-
consider them, and offer harsher and juster ones."
The Empress was at the same time emboldened and
puzzled by the restraint in tone and manner of her
dreaded foe. "May — may — not your plans entail some
— some danger? 'Who has sown the wind shall reap
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the whirlwind,' " she ventured, with timid and stupid
sententiousness.
Archduchess Sophia let her eyes rest on her sister-in-
law with an expression of half -contemptuous pity, half
derision, which might have given her plentiful food for
reflection had she been a woman who ever reflected.
"You possess all the antique virtues, even a praise-
worthy facility in Biblical quotation," she said, with
suave sarcasm. "Let us hope that you number among
them that of loyalty to a promise, for assuredly you will
not leave this room until you have promised to keep
silent about this night's performance — a sorry one, as far
as you are concerned, certainly, and of which you can
scarcely be proud. An Empress might at least employ
an agent to do such work, and not stoop to it herself!"
"All is fair in love and war. I — I — I was only fighting
my own battle, Sophia."
Into the face of the overbearing Archduchess came a
gleam of malicious amusement, crossed with surprise, at
this unheard-of pertinacity.
" I beg your pardon, but you should really make a con-
scientious effort to be a little less foolhardy. It is not
your usual attitude, and you know what our French
cousins say: ' Ne for fez pas votre talent; vous ne feriez
rien avec grd.ce. ' '
"I cannot promise what you ask. Why should I?
Promises are sacred," contended poor Maria- Anna, "and
you know as well as I do that it would be a sin for me to
hold anything back from my father-confessor."
"Ah, nous y voila done!" Sophia exclaimed. "Has
anybody ever heard anything that sounded so bewilder-
ingly devoid of reason? Not content with confessing
your own sins, you deem it your duty to reveal those
which, in your admirable purity of motive, you accord to
your neighbors. I sincerely pity your confessor! But,
1 06
byefore you go any further, would it not be better to cal-
culate what you yourself are likely to lose by such un-
paralleled loyalty to Holy Mother Church? For, when
you have done this, you will very likely thank me for
claiming and enforcing your silence!"
Maria-Anna gazed distressedly into space, as if ap-
pealing to invisible arbiters.
"This is too, too cruel!" she moaned. "Am I child
without discretion that I should be treated so?"
"Oh, you are very far from being a child, as anybody
looking at you in this crude morning light would enthu-
siastically vouch," retorted the other, unable for once to
refrain from a wholly feminine repartee, which made the
Empress wince, for vanity formed a large part of her
pampered, flattery -loving soul. "And now," continued
the imperturbable Archduchess, more sternly, "there
must be no more talk of wanting or not wanting to do as
you are told. You shall do what I wish, and that at
once!"
"This is outrageous!" exclaimed the other, goaded to
renewed pertinacity. "How long do you expect me to
keep silent, and why should you take it for granted that
I am inclined to connive at your plots?"
"I see that I have been altogether too patient with
you, my dear sister, but" — Sophia considered a moment
— "but, let me see — I shall be very moderate, if you will
be so good as to refrain from future impertinences —
three months will do. After three months I will allow
you to give full play to your diligent tongue. During
those three months, however, you must not, absolutely
must not, breathe a word to anybody of our little pro-
ject!"
"Three months! Twelve weeks!" almost screamed
Maria-Anna.
"Ninety days, to put it commercially," commented
107
Sophia, looking at the coffered ceiling with meditative
eyes.
The Empress held up her hands in vehement protest,
and, in a high, agitated, trembling voice that belied the
astonishing energy of her words, cried:
" You can do what you please, Sophia, but I will prom-
ise you nothing! I have feared you greatly, it is true,
but I do not fear you any longer, whatever you may
choose to do to me!"
Archduchess Sophia gazed at her with undisguised
amusement. She knew, without the possibility of a mis-
take, that this was but a momentary flash of revolt, and
that Maria- Anna, no more than Ferdinand, would dare to
resist her to the end, and this little flash of self-assertion
on her prisoner's part seemed very droll to her.
"Poor Franz, I hope he fell asleep in my room!" she
murmured, " puisque c'est tout h recommencer. I am
not very tolerant of defeat," she continued, louder,
"although I may have to swallow it at some future
time, but that time is not yet. I invariably contend
that what one wishes to accomplish can be compassed
sooner or later; with me it will be sooner, that is all.
Peste ! ma chbre, a crusade against me embraced by you
and your party is visionary indeed! I had hoped better
and especially far wiser things from you." She smiled,
and looked over to the rain-lashed windows. "The gods
have showered upon you their fairy gifts, and they will
be too merciful to those who look upon you as one of the
greatest acquisitions the Habsburgs ever made to let
you attempt resisting me unhindered."
The Empress had braced herself to withstand the fit of
rage which she felt certain Sophia would treat her to
when she found herself openly defied; but, surprised by
the continuance of this suave, calm insolence, crushed by
her antagonist's unruffled air of mastery, and, above all,
108
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ttfo frightened and humiliated to control her nerves, she
sank back upon the cushions of her chair and burst into
tears.
Archduchess Sophia rose and stood over her with a
face that had the immutability of a mask of stone. She
had played with her mouse long enough. Now she would
put an end to this wearisome scene, and when she spoke
it was with a bitter fierceness, before which the sobs of
the ignominiously detected listener died into silence.
"I wish no more words between us. You know how
basely you have acted. All your life has been one long
eavesdropping; this last and supremely disgraceful deed
committed by you, an Empress, has but set the seal upon
your shame, in my eyes at least. One can pardon and
understand sin, even crime, but not baseness. A daugh-
ter of kings should at least be loyal and truthful and
brave. You are none of these things, and your attempt
at resistance just now was a mere piece of comedy. I
know you; you are a fit mate for the miserable Roi
faineant you married, and it is because I do know you
botfi so well that I mean to wrench the crown from you,
who have sunk so despicably low. Were your honor or
Ferdinand's honor called into question, I would, of course,
defend it — as I would that of any of the Habsburgs —
not for your sakes, but merely for my own, since from my
heart I despise you both. And now I have trifled much
too long with you. Promise me silence, for if you still
refuse you will rue the very day you were born!"
Huddled in her chair, exhausted, hysterical, and in-
capable of further resistance, Maria-Anna faintly mur-
mured :
"I promise."
"Do you mean that?"
"Yes."
" It is understood that by this promise you engage not
109
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
to communicate what you have heard to-night to any
one, by writing or otherwise, and also that you will not
act upon your information, is it not?"
"Yes."
"Ah, I am glad that we have come to an understand-
ing. Will you permit me to assist you to the door? It
is day — after a fashion — and you must be tired."
The Empress rose limply. Dazed by the exhausting
scene she had just gone through, she obeyed mechani-
cally, and suffered herself to be conducted across the
apartment. Slowly she passed down the corridor, hard-
ly knowing whither she went, for all the pride and vanity
of her narrow soul had been crushed out for the moment,
and the greatest humiliation she had ever known poured
into their empty places.
CHAPTER IV
Two months later, on December zd, 1848, the old
citadel of Olmiitz looked more grim and forbidding
than usual under a leaden sky of uniform and dismal
grayness, low and disconsolate and threatening. Snow
lay thickly on the ground and weighed down the branches
of the pines all over the country, and now and again a
bough snapped under its burden with a sharp, tearing
sound, followed by the clear, steely tinkle of falling icicles.
The cutting north wind, blowing like a death -deal-
ing blast, was full of whirling flakes, like feather-tips,
waltzing in maddened circles, freezing as they fell, and
adding to the heaped - up whiteness hiding the world
from sight. As the morning wore on the whole lower-
ing heaven seemed to open, so dense a tourmente poured
upon the small town where the Court had taken refuge.
A thick, woolly, impenetrable gloom enshrouded every-
thing like a suffocating cloak, and the weather grew
wilder and wilder under the cruelty of that black frost,
the chill of that desolate winter.
Above the fortress, above the wildly flapping folds of
the Habsburg standard, a flight of huge, dark birds, their
sable wings monotonously sweeping the sombre sky, kept
circling round and round, each circle narrowing and
widening again regularly, while their dismal croaking
made itself heard above even the roar of the wind.
Those who caught sight of them crossed themselves
and muttered superstitiously about "the curse of the
Habsburgs," and about the dread legend of the ravens,
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
supposed to betoken misfortune by their mere presence
to all members of the Imperial family.
Many years later those dusky birds of ill-omen hov-
ered with sinister croakings above the proud heads
of Archduchess Charlotte and of Archduke Ferdinand-
Maximilian, in the fragrant gardens of Miramar during
their last walk there together before starting upon their
ill-starred journey to far-off Mexico ; one of the gloomy
band alighting with a swoop on the very train of the
new-made Empress.
Still later they accompanied the travelling-carriage of
Archduchess Maria-Christina, leaving Vienna to join her
Royal fianc£ at Madrid, where she ultimately suffered all
that a woman can suffer, and but five short years ago the
same black -plumed messengers flew to bring her death-
warrant to that peerless creature, Empress Elizabeth,
upon a magnificent blue-and-gold, green-and-silver au-
tumnal afternoon, as she sat on the moss-grown rocks of
the Swiss mountains above Territet, gazing at the lake,
the woods, the glaciers, and the far-distant haze of the
mellow horizon. Similar presage their swift wings bore
to poor Archduchess Marie-Louise journeying from her
dear native land to wed Napoleon; to Emperor Joseph,
to lovely Queen Marie- Antoinette , whom they accom-
panied to the very steps of the scaffold, and to many,
many others belonging to that glorious but sorely afflict-
ed House of Habsburg.
And yet few know the origin of this curse, or rather
the primary cause of the ravens' supposed blighting in-
fluence upon all the descendants of Rudolph, first of the
name, for the legend has never been printed as yet, save
perchance in some long-forgotten, black-letter record,
which none who live now have so much as heard of, and
it is handed down orally in the inner family circle of
those whom alone it concerns.
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Thus it runs: Nearly a thousand years ago there
lived, near the spot where the river Aar joins the Rhine,
a bold and powerful lord, who, by his mighty courage,
vanquished all his foes; a tall and handsome man, very
fair and of splendid bearing and with a physiognomy
that showed both the habit and the power of command.
He was satiated to weariness with public homage, and,
though he ever acknowledged it with proud and court-
ly grace, yet his happiest moments were those which he
spent among the towering peaks of the mountains, or
within the deep gloom of his forest -lands, hunting the
bear, the wolf, or the red deer from their silent, mysteri-
ous haunts: for he was an ardent disciple of Nimrod, and
when he gave the coup de grdce to some fierce animal
which he had conquered by brute force, his blue eyes
darkened to steel-like brilliance with an instantaneous
and unconquerable joy which had won him the sobriquet
of Der Habicht Graf (The Vulture Count).
Such was Gontran-le-Riche, Count of Altenbourg, a
man to be both feared and admired, swift and fierce in
passion, bitter and implacable in hate, keen to avenge
and slow to forgive, and yet with a warm, generous
heart beating under his glittering surcoat of steel,
and a sense of justice and of fair-play rare indeed and
superb to behold in one so nearly omnipotent as he.
Even towards his favorite antagonists, the bear and wolf,
during the short, bleak winter, or the long, bright sum-
mer days when he pursued the wild swan, the blue heron,
or the golden eagle through the tall, rough meadow-grass
or over the precipitous rocks of the high summits, he
displayed those qualities which are generally not found
in men who live such free, headstrong, barbaric lives as
he did, who know no law, no rule, and no constraint but
their own.
One day Gontran-le-Riche was hunting in a maze of
8 113
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
dense, still woods and fir-clad heights, where headlong
rivers thundered through rocky gorges, and madly rush-
ing torrents foamed in the green gloom between the vast
trunks of veteran pines, when he came upon a rocky
summit, shaped like a stronghold built by the hands of
Titans, and as lonely as any falcon's nest hung amid lofty
branches. These great, voiceless powers of beauty and
loneliness drew Count von Altenbourg irresistibly, and,
ascending to the highest point, he sat himself down on a
bowlder and gazed with enraptured eyes at the admi-
rable, wild panorama of wood and mountain unfolded
before him. And as he sat he saw, descending towards
him from the clouds, great dark birds, their immense
wings circling and sweeping the air with a rustle as of
tearing silks. Nearer and nearer and nearer they came,
till they were poised immediately above his head, and
remained almost motionless in a huge, sombre ring, bal-
ancing themselves upon outstretched pinions, so that he
could see plainly their fierce, golden eyes bent upon him,
their murderous claws drawn up against their silver-
flecked breasts, their sharply curved beaks opened men-
acingly, and he felt that in another moment they would
swoop down upon him,who had so boldly intruded upon
their domain, and batter him to death with blows from
their pitiless wings and rending talons.
Countless were the soaring birds; the whole heavens
seemed lined by that angrily ruffled tribe assembled
from every quarter, and harsh, threatening noises
came ever increasingly from the billowy cloud of gleam-
ing feathers. Nor was their onslaught a slight peril,
even for so strong a man as Count Gontran, who, al-
though he had always started honestly and given its
fair chance of escape to every woodland quarry, now
was in deadly risk* of finding no such mercy from this
overwhelming force.
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*/His followers were scattered in the wood below him,
quite out of reach of his call, and he was alone to fight
against impossible odds. The day was still and cloudy
— true sportsman's weather — with no gleam of sun to
shine in the hunter's eyes, but in this universal gray-
ness the menace of the vulture horde seemed still more
terrible and deadlier of intent. There were few braver
men living than he, but he yet realized clearly that for
all he knew to the contrary his hour had come, and that
he, the Habicht Graf, was like to be killed by the very
birds whose name he bore. He rose to his full height,
however, with undiminished courage, his eyes sparkling
with dangerous fire, and on his face a look of utter con-
tempt for his pressing danger. Thus he steadfastly pre-
pared to meet his foes, for men must die, and little does
it matter what is the manner of their death so long as
they die nobly and without flinching, as men should.
Then, at that moment of dire peril, a wonderful thing
came to pass, and a strange, for with the swiftness of sum-
mer lightning a feathered cloud, far denser, far blacker
than that formed by the vultures, overspread the space
between the Count's head and his imminent assailants,
darkening still further the light of the gray day, and
intercepting the now down-swooping attack of the great
birds of prey. No man wrestling through the tumult of
battle to reach what he loves best, can fight a more bitter
conflict with the death that menaces him on every side
than that flight of ravens, coming none could know
whence, which, with no human love, no human pity as
their incentive, yet cast themselves upon that murder-
ous army of vultures and forced them back with a hoarse,
hollow roar of wide-flung throats and clashing beaks, like
the sound of a tempest, and drove them swiftly across the
darkening skies like a cloud-rack before the wind. The
Count could not repress a shout of triumph and of en-
"5
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
couragement to the winged legions of his defenders, but
even as he gazed victors and vanquished were gone, and
only some stragglers still hurled themselves on one an-
other, their smothered cries accentuating the great si-
lence that was again falling upon the green woods. Sud-
denly the sun broke red through the gray shroud of mist,
the pine boughs below Gontran - le - Riche were bathed
in light, and his followers, rushing through them, fell at
his feet in the joy of having found him after a desperate
search, guided only by the strange turmoil of the battle
raging above the impenetrable dome of the trees, through
which they had labored so long in vain.
Count Gontran, in commemoration of the miracle
which had saved him, built himself a watch-tower on the
top of the rock which nature had shaped so closely to
resemble one, and called it the "Habichtsburg," which
from corruption became "Habsburg," so he really was
the founder of the Habsburg name, he himself being far
better known towards the end of his life by the name of
Count of Habsburg than by that of Count von Alten-
bourg. His knightly pennon also from the day of his
strange rescue bore a raven sable on a field or, and since
the birds were regarded by him as friends to whom he
owed a deep debt, food in plenty was always placed,
summer and winter alike, on the rocky base of the
tower, so that they greatly prospered and increased,
building their strong nests all through the woods for
miles around.
When, nearly a hundred years after the death of this
great and noble lord, Arch Abbot Werner and his
brother, the Chevalier Radbot, came into possession of
the solitary tower built by Gontran-le-Riche, Count von
Altenbourg - Habsburg, and added to it, until Schloss
Habsburg raised its proud turrets and battlements above
the green billows of the splendid forest murmuring and
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
rustling at its feet; the " Habichtsburg " ravens protest-
ed against the desecration of their beloved protector's
favorite retreat with such violence, and in such numbers,
that a destructive war upon them was promptly decreed.
The birds did not readily forsake their time-honored
haunt, however, for it is to Rudolph von Habsburg, first
Emperor of his House, fully two hundred years later still,
that the final extermination of the raven colony around
the castle is attributed. Hence the legend to the effect
that the birds, disgusted and infuriated by this piece of
unparalleled ingratitude, turned their hatred from cen-
tury to century upon all the descendants of Emperor Ru-
dolph, and that to this very day they take cruel delight in
presaging misfortune to all those bearing that ancient
and glorious name.*
Inside the fortress of Olmutz, on the memorable De-
cember day of which I speak at the beginning of this
chapter, agitation and curiosity reigned supreme. The
dim winter light stole through the tall, deep-embrasured
windows of the gloomy throne-room, and made so feeble
a contest with the shadows that a sense of unrest, born
of that troubled time, had fallen upon a group of Impe-
rial personages and high court officials who had been
summoned thither.
Together, near the wide porphyry hearth, where huge
logs of pine and cedar burned, stood Archduke Ferdi-
nand-Karl, Francis-Joseph's brothers Ferdinand -Max-
imilian and Karl - Ludwig, and Archduke Ferdinand-
d'Este. A little further were the Archduchesses Maria-
Dorothea and Elizabeth, shivering in their gorgeous robes
de cour as they whispered earnestly with Archduke Wil-
helm- Joseph, who bent inquiring glances upon the two
* The orthography of the word Habsburg is uncertain, the
members of the Imperial family still write it with a "b," from
Habicht (vulture).
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heroes of the hour, Prince Windischgratz and the cele-
brated Baron Jellachich, Ban of Croatia, no longer a de-
clared rebel, but commander - in - chief of the Imperial
forces in Hungary, and a firm ally of Archduchess
Sophia.
A little over a month before these two commanders
had appeared before rebellious Vienna with an army of
a hundred thousand men, had defeated a relieving force
of Hungarian insurgents under Kossuth, and after a de-
structive bombardment had taken the city by assault
and reduced it to submission, and it was expected that in
a few days they would carry the banner of the Empire
against Hungary. Excepting Prince Schwartzenberg,
Count Griinne, Baron von Hiibner, and those already
named, no other persons were present in the great apart-
ment.
The assembled company were discussing the possible
reasons of their being so suddenly brought together,
for, strange as it may appear, nobody, not even the
Emperor's nearest relatives, knew the nature of the
all-important ceremony which was immediately to take
place.
The ponderous, richly carved furniture, the glittering
throne itself, looked ghostly in the almost empty hall,
where none dared to talk above a whisper, and wherein
the very spirit of the cruel ice and snow that wrapped
the outer world seemed to have penetrated, so cold and
silent was its atmosphere.
A stray flash from the crackling fire threw into promi-
nence here and there a delicate bit of carving, a jewelled
tazza, a Cellini cup, or coaxed high lights from the dra-
peries of deep-purple velvet, and the gold-brocaded por-
tieres falling in straight folds before the many doors.
That palace of Olmtitz was very old, spacious, magnifi-
cent, faded, and dull. Busts of dusky, age -yellowed
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marble and of sombre bronze were barely visible in the
semi-darkness, amid the worn brocades and the ancient
hangings, with strange and pallid figures wrought upon
them by hands, dead since many centuries.
"What hornet's nest have we stepped into now?"
queried Archduke Wilh elm- Joseph, with a sigh of im-
patience, addressing himself to Archduchess Elizabeth.
"Sophia has a finger in it, you may depend. She has
always considered that all creation exists only for the
honor of her immediate family, and refuses to admit that
others may have some additional though no doubt minor
objects in view. For the last few months she has had a
preoccupied look which, in my humble opinion, bodes no
good as to her latest machinations."
"You are, none of you, quite just to her," replied the
gentle Archduchess. "She possesses a keener sense of
duty than most women, and if her views are perchance
somewhat extreme — "
The Archduke laughed sarcastically, and, before time
had been given for the interrupted reproof to be resumed,
the double doors opposite the throne were flung open,
and , preceded by the Grandmaster of the Court , Landgrave
Egon von Furstenberg, walking backward and tapping
his ivory wand of office upon the floor, the Emperor and
Empress entered and passed towards the dais, followed
by Archduke Franz-Karl, Archduchess Sophia, and last,
but not least, by Archduke Franz himself.
The groups in the great Thronsaal fell abruptly asunder,
curtseying and bowing low, but furtively glancing at the
pale face of Ferdinand, whose painfully restless eyes and
twitching lips denoted a nervousness controlled with
visible difficulty. The Empress at his side looked as if
she had been recently crying, though now a sombre
light of regret and resentment burned in her eyes, and
her bosom quivered under the glistening jewels that dec-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
orated it. Now and again she twisted the lace hand-
kerchief she held, and a slight tremor shaking her inter-
mittently, made the diamonds with which her hair was
spangled sparkle like liquid fire.
Immediately behind her swept Archduchess Sophia,
with her usual stately grace and proud, cold dignity.
Her velvet dress was very plainly made, but fitted her
magnificent figure to perfection ; on her breast shone the
stars of many orders, and on her shapely head rested a
diadem of marvellous uncut gems which she wore like an
Imperial crown. Only her eyes betrayed that she was
strung to the highest pitch, for they were alive with an
intensity of expression wonderful to behold, as she fixed
them on the trembling form of the Emperor and then
upon her darling, her handsome blue-eyed boy, the child
who so soon now was to be her sovereign.
During the silence which followed it seemed as if all the
fierce passions that mould humanity fluttered their un-
quiet wings through the lofty hall, the air seemed heavy
with portent, and a keen tingling tension of expectancy
drew every eye upon the throne.
The Emperor's face had turned gray as ashes; for a
moment he strove to hide his emotion, conscious that
there were but few in the assembly but watched him un-
kindly. He pressed his lips together tightly, and an un-
usual and curiously obstinate expression drew down the
corners of his mouth, as his eyes sought for a second the
terribly commanding orbs of Archduchess Sophia, whose
hand closed vise-like upon the sticks of the fan which
she held like a marshal's baton; then, suddenly, an ex-
pression almost fierce transformed his colorless features
into a tragic mask; authority, nay, absolute imperious-
ness, came into his bearing and manner; he no longer
seemed awkward, cowed, and feeble, but dignified and
commanding, and for once in his life looked as one born
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tO'/dominate the crowd. His whole attitude, indeed, de-
manded attention as he rose from the throne, unfolded a
paper he held in his hand, and began to read in a deep,
firm, sonorous voice none had ever heard from him be-
fore, the following declaration:
"For very weighty reasons we have irrevocably de-
cided to lay down our Imperial Crown in favor of our
beloved nephew, the Most Serene Archduke Francis-
Joseph, whom we hereby declare to be of age, our be-
loved brother, the Most Serene Archduke Francis-
Charles, father of our above-mentioned Most Serene
Nephew, having irrevocably renounced his right of suc-
cession to a throne which belongs to him by right,
according to the fundamental laws of our family and of
the state, in favor of his above-mentioned son, Francis-
Joseph."
As he pronounced the last words, more like a sovereign
in laying down the sceptre than at any time when he
swayed it, the intense excitement which caused this one
supreme effort went out within him like a suddenly ex-
tinguished lamp ; he was overtaken by a reaction visible
to all who had been watching him with amazed surprise ;
he shivered, bowed his head, and sat wearily down again.
Immediately Prince Schwartzenberg arose and read, in
tones that sounded clear and sharp upon the strained
silence, three official documents, the declaration that
Francis- Joseph was now of age, his father's formal re-
nunciation to his right of succession, and the Emperor's
formal abdication.
As the Prince presented these papers to the Empe-
ror and Archduke Franz-Karl for their signatures, and
counter-signed them with his own, many glances turned
towards Archduchess Sophia, and noted the very faint
smile that hovered about her lips, and accentuated the
gleam of exulting triumph in her eyes when she looked
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
towards her son, whom she crowned that day with a
richer diadem than any of the proud old Empire, that
of a love so intense, so profound, so devoted, that all else
paled before it. She felt truly like one who, after long
fasting and travail of spirit before the dim altar of a
shrine, suddenly beholds a luminous white vision con-
firming and rewarding his faith. She had conquered,
and success is sweet always, but doubly so to such a
hewer of fate as was this inexorably masterful woman,
around whom to-day celestial ether seemed to swim and
swirl.
As in a dream she heard a voice delivering a farewell
address, as in a dream saw faces pale and eyes fill with
tears as her son knelt before the retiring Emperor for
his embrace and blessing; but as the young sovereign
rose to receive the formal homage and congratulations
of the members of his House, she came swiftly forward
and folded him in her arms with a clasp passionate and
strong, like her own heart.
The deed was done ! Already the heralds were on their
way to proclaim it throughout the little town. The
crown of the Habsburgs had changed places, and the
poor discrowned monarch, who had donned it thirteen
years before, now felt a strange and unaccountable
sense of void and of bitter loss as he rose from the throne
— vacating it, as it were, for the slender youth who, with
ready tears glistening in his eyes, was watching his pale
features, which appeared but a shrivelled mask of re-
serve and misery, as if the page of history which he had
just completed had been written in a blinding light
which had dazzled and hurt him cruelly, and the passing
away of which now left him in an almost sightless dark-
ness.
The young Emperor turned his eyes from him and
gazed out at the whirling snow, falling in ever-thickening
flakes, afraid of the emotions into which he might be
hurried, for in his heart he was profoundly sorry for this
broken man, who had spent his whole life in wanting that
which he had not, in regretting his own actions when it
was too late to efface them, in putting the blame upon
fate which was due to his own folly, caprice, and insta-
bility; and who yet had always been to him both kind
and indulgent.
He had reasoned with himself that the relinquishing
of what one is weary and afraid of cannot be looked upon
in the light of a sacrifice, and yet the sight of his uncle
dethroned and uncrowned was very painful to him, for
he did not possess the enviable faculty of being able to
readily dismiss from his mind the thought of another's
unhappiness. Indeed, the subject had, during the past
weeks, occupied his mind to an extent which surprised
himself. And thus, after a few minutes of irresolution
and of conflicting impulses, he once more abruptly sank
on his knee, with the humility belonging to men of high
mind and strong feeling, both young and old, before the
gray-haired figure standing stoopingly at the hearth-cor-
ner, and tears fell upon his uncle's withered hand as he
kissed it.
Genuinely touched, Ferdinand raised and embraced
him, not now as before, with mere conventionality, but
in a tender and fatherly fashion.
"Nay, weep not for me," he said, gently. "I am
growing old, and the thought that in my retirement I
shall miss something of this life makes me see just now
all things in shadow, but I will be consoled in watching
you fulfil your duty as I wish I, myself, had done, for you
are not one, I believe, to repudiate or neglect your obli-
gations, and so, God bless you, my boy! and grant that
your path be not too arduous a one."
None, perhaps, understood the intense diffidence which
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enveloped Francis- Joseph, as a frost encloses and covers
a lake with a sheet of armor at the beginning of a hard
winter, from the moment when he realized the weight
and responsibilities of the Dual-Crown ; none understood
the bewilderment and inward agitation which made him
pronounce the memorable "Good-bye, my youth," on
the day of his accession, and none certainly would have
thought how heavily the only fear which had ever touch-
ed his dauntless and courageous temper — namely, a fear
of his own limitations, lay upon him while listening to
his uncle's words. He was still bewildered with all that
had taken place that morning, and, in answer, he mur-
mured something, he knew not what, and so remained
standing before him, unable to recover his composure,
while the color came and went nervously on his young
face.
" I will try to please you and my parents," he said, at
last, involuntarily. It was what a boy would have said,
and he knew it, yet he could not restrain the words !
Empress Maria-Anna put out her left hand — the one
nearer him — and gently clasped his, for she, too, was
moved by so much humility and modesty at so proud a
moment for him.
"You have always pleased us all," she said, very kind-
ly. "Do not look back and think of your uncle and my-
self now. Cosa fatta, capo ha. What is done is done.
We will be very happy, he and I, in Prague, and will give
you a warm welcome, both as Emperor and as nephew,
when you come to see us."
Francis-Joseph looked at her with a puzzled expres-
sion. He had always thought of his aunt as selfish, ex-
acting, cold, and capricious; perhaps he had misjudged
her, and he regretted that, too. So all the heart he had,
and that was much, he put into his manner of returning
the warm, motherly kiss she gave him. As he turned
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from her embrace he saw in his own mother's eyes a look
which disconcerted him, not quite of derision, but cruelly
hinting at pity for his extraordinary youthfulness and
guilelessness !
Poor boy -Emperor, he was too little versed in the
whole gamut of feminine emotions not to be perplexed
as to the motive and meaning of that mocking gaze
which hurt him so deeply.
Two hours later Ferdinand and Maria- Anna set off for
Prague. The snow had ceased falling and the landscape
was austere and astonishingly grim in its solemn winter
livery of black and white; but the low, gray clouds were
slowly dissolving and being drawn away like a huge
gauzy curtain from the chill sky, and the walls of
Olmutz, the island-fortress — planted in the middle of
the broad, frozen surface of the river March — gleamed
palely in the intermittent rays of the dim, yellow,
sickly sun. Above the ice-clad bosom of the stream,
wont in the spring to roll so boisterously, peat-stained
and foam-broidered, through its belt of marshes, now
motionless and chained down under the iron grip of
the frost, flocks of wild-fowl flew, with shrill cries, where,
in the early morning, the Habsburg ravens had circled.
The whole scene had changed, indeed, when the new
sovereign mounted his charger to accompany his Im-
perial predecessor so far as the railway station, galloping
at the window of the state carriage, with its coachman, in
full-bottomed wig and three-cornered hat, seated alone
in his glory, and its gorgeous footmen swinging behind.
The ranks of the good-natured and admiring crowd
which had assembled to watch the departure opened to
let the equipage pass by, with Hochs of delight and
loud-shouted blessings upon "Franz der Kaiser" and
" Ferdinand der Gtitige," who " soi-dit en passant " is to
this day remembered throughout Austria as the softest-
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hearted monarch of them all! The gold lace on the
brilliant uniforms of the escort shone gayly, the horses
pranced merrily, and there could be no doubt whatever
of the popularity of both the young and the old mon-
arch with the excellent Moravians thronging the nar-
row streets of Olmutz. They evidently knew naught of
" Le Roi est mort, vive le Roi! " but wisely considered that
" le Roi est tou fours le Roi," and that if there happened
just then to be two of them in their midst, it was all
the more glory and joy for them. So, entirely uncon-
scious of any satire in their cries, they shouted en-
thusiastically for both.
Around the Bahnhof the multitude had gathered
thickly, swelled by every passer-by who had been drawn
towards the vortex in hopes of catching a glimpse of the
cortege, if even but of the very tip of the court-chas-
seurs' plumed hats. The crowd pressed to its closest and
densest as the peloton d'escorte preceding the Imperial
carriage swiftly trotted into view, and the name of Fran-
cis-Joseph ran through the people's ranks like a flame
through a powder-train.
Already they trusted him ; they honored him for the
splendid courage he displayed in assuming at so perilous a
moment the reins of government ; they were proud of him
as of a chosen leader; they cheered him deafeningly, es-
pecially the women, who were beside themselves with en-
thusiasm at his proud grace of bearing under such try-
ing circumstances, at the courteous fashion in which he
bowed his blond head, and the dreamy, half -eager, half-
wistful, wholly grateful expression of his handsome
face.
Every heart in this small portion of his millions of new
subjects warmed to him, and tears stood in many eyes as,
hastily dismounting from his curvetting horse, with a
bright and affectionate smile he helped his dethroned
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
uncle to alight under the purple marquee which had
hurriedly been raised over the station steps.
The troops garrisoned at Olmutz were yet more en-
thusiastic, if possible, than the burghers had been, and
the crisp, cold, winter air resounded with far louder
hurrahs than theirs when, followed by a large and brill-
iant staff, the young Imperial generalissimo rode to
the parade-ground mounted on a superb bay stallion,
and wearing the uniform of his dragoon regiment — a
uniform still slightly dimmed by the powder-smoke of
Santa Lucia.
From the first the soldiers loved him with a fond,
trustful, triumphant affection, both the old and the new
troops, the grim, gray-haired, battle-scarred warriors of
Radetzky, and the pink-cheeked recruits from the north
and the south, the east and the west of his wide domin-
ions, uniting in this unparalleled devotion.
Most military leaders gain fame and popularity only
after long, weary, and bitter toil, after a dreary and ex-
hausting pilgrimage, which has silvered their heads and
dulled their eyes and their capacity for enjoying such
a reward, but he, this youngest of all the generals in
his armies, gathered at once and in full the sweet
fruitage of success, which burst into bloom spontane-
ously like some swift, wind-sown, sun -fed flower of
exceeding beauty, on the instant when he assumed com-
mand.
To-day, among the rank and file filling the parade-
ground with a mute, still, immovable mass, there was
not one man whose eyes did not turn affectionately on
him, whose pride did not centre in him — now so wholly
theirs — the beating of whose heart did not quicken as
he reined in his charger and saluted them, for they knew,
and felt, that in the slender, well-knit body of their
young chief, their new Emperor, there lived a courage
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
as great and daring as Radetzky's himself, and a fair-
ness, a justice, a kindliness which could find no compare.
When the brief soldierly words which he addressed to
them were ended, a great shout arose, strong, full, echo-
ing over and over again in ceaseless thunder to the now
bright azure and totally cloudless skies above, and as he
heard he became strangely pale ; his blue eyes grew dim
as he looked upon the men whose voices shook the very
earth in their homage to him. A light came upon his
face which all who saw it were forever to remember, for
in that moment he received, in all its intensity, the grand
reward of his own sacrifice, the price of his relinquished
youth, and realized in this first hour the perfect splendor
of his great rulership, without a single wound from the
thorns that hide beneath the jewels of the crown, or a
pang of that pain which pursues and embitters every
human joy, every human ambition, in the very hour of its
fulfilment.
For a few blissful minutes all doubt, all self -mis-
trust disappeared as had they never been, and it was
difficult for him to retain his complete self-possession
when saluting them. Once again he galloped down the
front of the troops, followed by his dazzling staff, accom-
panied by the clash of lowered arms, the roll of drums,
the glitter of unsheathed swords and presented bayo-
nets. It was one of those hours in which life is trans-
figured, exalted, sublimated into almost divine glory.
No wonder that he never forgot it, nor that murmur, like
the sound of a sea throughout ice-bound Olmutz, as he
rode back to the palace — the murmur of a great multi-
tude, whose joy pierces deep as tears, the welcome of
his people. And as he went, the bitterness of the past
months was, indeed, forgotten, while in his heart rose
one ardent prayer, that strength might be given to him
to be ever faithful to the dreams of his youth.
128
CHAPTER V
WILL the world ever quite know, ever quite realize
what a task lay before the young monarch, as on De-
cember 3d he awoke to the realization that he, and he
alone, was now responsible for the pacification of a coun-
try more than twice the size of Great Britain, a third
larger than France, and for the prosperity of some thirty
millions of human beings, belonging to seventeen or
eighteen different nationalities? Will the detractors of
monarchy ever comprehend or appreciate how, assuming
this herculean labor as a mere boy of eighteen, he dealt
with the crushing problem given him to solve, toiling
through years with a nobility and wisdom, a sagacity
and an unselfishness, seldom equalled in history?
What pen could describe how through all Htterness
he pursued one purpose, how through all desolation he
followed a sublimely just course, and how, when all seem-
ed to turn against him, he remained constant to himself
and to his vows — ay, and brought his work of neace to an
end, as far as human work can ever be completed, to the
lasting benefit of all those lands that are subject to his
sceptre?
Every rustle of forest leafage, every breath of wood-
land air, the very odor of the rich, emerald grass, the
fresh, free wind blowing from the mountains, the mighty
rush of the broad, blue rivers, the rally-cry of the golden
eagle above snowy summits, the tinkle of the ice on the
glaciers, the faint echo of the village church-bells, and
through the hush of the night the hive-like murmur of
9 129
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
great and prosperous cities, all should rise towards him
like an incense of praise and honor, for he made the Dual
Empire what it is to-day — a realm fairer than all others,
and peopled by beings more completely satisfied with
their lot than any I have known.
Those who have read history — I do not lay claim to an
historical pen, but merely attempt to portray Francis-
Joseph the man — know that for months before and after
the young Emperor's accession the land was overhung
by the great smoke-pall of incessant wars, and that there
was continual strife between the Empire and nearly all
of the different nationalities which constitute it, in turn.
The people seemed to have run mad, catching indis-
criminately truths, half-truths, and lies, real and imag-
inary wrongs, from the politicians in the guise of patriots
who brayed incessantly to them, so that the few who re-
mained sane were fain to stop their ears in distress and
disgust.
Misery, blind justice and blinder injustice, crippled
creeds and broken faiths drew down a heavy twilight
upon the land, which was deafened by the din of battle-
fields and lurid with the glare of burning homesteads and
blazing towns. The thirst for '-'liberty" was upon all.
Alike those who had from birth known naught but the
squalid dens and fetid, vicious alleys of slums, and those
born and bred beneath forest verdure and leading the
free, unfettered life of the country-side, babbled of "lib-
erty," as the masses understand that elastic word, which,
in their rendering of it, means but license to plunder and
to murder those above them.
There will always be mobs, especially now that the
lower classes are being confused and made more unrea-
sonable than ever by the thin varnish of a little educa-
tion, and there will always be men like Caius Gracchus
to array the plebeian against the patrician, and discover,
13°
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
to their cost, in the day of their success, that the plebeian
is a far more cruel oppressor than the patrician himself.
But my opinions on the matter are of little value, and
bid fair to make my humble writing lamentably unpop-
ular in these enlightened times. After all, human grist
must be ground, that the round world may roll on and
spin merrily into space, and whether the grist ap-
proves or disapproves of the process matters but little.
With which philosophical remark I proceed with my own
task.
They were tumultuously bitter, those subjects of our
young Emperor. Riotous and desperate, they "played
the tiger" savagely, they tore and rent whenever a prey
came in their way, and would not be appeased even by
such gentle and humane means as those used in Hungary
by Feldzeugmeister von Haynau ; and who will say that
he and his kind were not sorely tempted at times ?
Amid this pandemonium, amid these multitudes toss-
ed hither and thither by the lying promises of dema-
gogues and the exasperation of the nobles, while the
deafening, threatening roar rose louder and louder, and
echoed farther and farther, with the tempest at its
height, and the surging waves of human passions un-
bridled and terrible in their menace, the Emperor alone
kept his head with a cool, dauntless zest in peril, rode at
the head of his troops calmly, without fear and without
bravado, filled with a manly, deep-rooted contempt of
danger tout simplement, and with a high sense of what his
duty was as well. Indeed, .when his generals pointed
out to him that he had no right to risk his life, which was
of incalculable national value, he merely shrugged his
shoulders and quietly explained to his horrified interloc-
utors that no life is really of value, because there are
always plenty more just as good to fill the vacancies, his
clear, frank eyes resting upon them the while with a cer-
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tain gleam of amusement which they failed to compre-
hend.
Time heals many wrongs and dispels many fallacies,
and not even in Hungary, where the loyalty to Francis-
Joseph is to-day almost as great as it is in Austria, is
the Emperor-King any longer held in any way respon-
sible for what are termed the barbarous reprisals of 1849.
No more do men associate his name with that of Haynau,
the execrated commander who terrorized Hungary, in
his master's name, by means of which that master never
knew or dreamed at the time, and whose fierce, unflinch-
ing rendering of justice thrilled like a curse throughout
the land, for Feldzeugmeister von Haynau's verdicts had
more than the sternness of the Levitical law. He exact-
ed two eyes for an eye, two teeth for a tooth, two lives
for a life, and held, rightly or wrongly, that rebels should
be slain with even sharper weapons than their own.
Therefore, let a few short lines suffice for the mention
of him who was so widely known by the significant ap-
pellation of "the Butcher of Brescia," gained when, a
few months before his advent in Hungary, he had turned
this fairest of Lombardian cities into a hideous shambles,
and put to the sword all those who had risen against its
Austrian garrison. Over Hungary he was given fatal
powers, and he used them to the uttermost, draining the
blood of his enemies, drop by drop, spreading calamity
and desolation wherever he went, because ".he who rises
by the sword shall perish by the sword," and truly " every
man was put to death according to his sin" where his re-
lentless rule held sway.
He wrung the hearts of the Magyars dry of all joy, of
all pride, of all happiness, of all hope, with as much un-
concern as they themselves wrung a goat-skin dry of
wine in the days of their prosperity. The Emperor, had
he known then of this mercilessness, would have stopped
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
i^swiftly indeed, and when, too late, alas ! he found it out,
this terrible discovery fell on him like the stroke of an
iron mace; when he knew at last the width and the
depth of the wrong wrought in his, Francis-Joseph's
name, Haynau himself, though bold to the core and
possessed of wellnigh unrivalled courage — for one must
do justice to all — had he witnessed his master's anger,
would have shrunk and quailed and trembled with fear.
There can be no greater tribute paid to the chivalry of
the Magyar character than to state, in conclusion of this
terrible page of Hungarian history, that when Haynau's
name had become so abhorred throughout Europe that
the foulest criminal hiding for murder was held to be
worthier than he of pity, when the blood-smeared fabric
of his sorry celebrity had tumbled about him and nearly
crushed out his own life, and when his honors, his dig-
nities, his ambitions had all crumbled into dust like dead
sea-fruit — when, indeed, there was not a city, a village, or
a hamlet in the breadth and length of Europe where he
was safe from assassination, he threw himself upon the
mercy of Hungary, claimed the protection of the hot-
headed, warm-hearted people whom he had wronged,
and went confidingly to finish his days on the Magyar
land he had caused to be drenched with the blood of its
greatest aristocrats, its fairest women, and its bravest
soldiers.
Vengeance lay then in the hollow of the Magyar's
hands, to slay or to spare. Even without participating
in this late-dealt retribution, they could have yielded up
the tyrant to the doom he had merited by his long ca-
reer of pitiless hatred and cruelty, but a justice higher,
purer, loftier than that of revenge stirred in their hearts,
one which assuredly must have pierced Haynau more
deeply than a death-thrust, and which must as certainly
also have brought to him his first pang of remorse ; for it
133
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
was a justice of mercy dealt to one who had never shown
any, of pity to this ardent apostle of a yet harsher law
than the stern, ruthless lex talionis of Israel, and bitter
of acceptance it must have seemed to his untamable
spirit.
Under the sapphire-blue skies of Hungary Feldzeug-
meister von Haynau spent the remainder of his life.
Under the lustre of its great, silvery, almost Oriental
moon, of its red-gold sun, he vainly strove to put from
him the remembrance of the past, and during all that
time never did even a drunken peasant, by coarse jest
or jeering look, recall to his mind his impotence to roll
away a single stone from the crimsoned cairn that he
himself had heaped to his own memory; and, thanks to
the astonishing magnanimity of his enemies, to the gen-
erosity of the compatriots and relatives of his very vic-
tims, he found in Hungary sanctuary safer even than did
the criminals of olden times at the foot of the sacred
altars.
While Haynau was yet repressing and oppressing Hun-
gary, however, across the barrier of the Alps, in the
gladiolus-filled marshes and the green, mulberry-shaded
pastures of Northern Italy, in the crocus-studded mead-
ows of the Veneto, and beneath the gold-and-purple sun-
sets of Lombardy, under the canopies of trellised vines,
the tall hedges of laurier rose, sulle Rive d'Adria bella,
and far into the mountainous north country — where huge
barges, laden with white and purple figs, amber pears,
rosy apples, and great baskets filled with golden grapes
flap their gayly painted sails lazily above the lily-choked
waters of turquoise lakes — raged the deadly struggle
between the blue-coats of Italy and the white-coats of
Austria.
The Italians were tired of that bitter warfare, and
fierce in their wrath, not only against the Austrians, but
134
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
al«o against their leader, King Charles-Albert of Sardinia,
whom they accused of "banqueting at ease in palaces "
while their hearths were desolate, their children food-
less, and their wives, mothers, and babes dying of fever
like flies. Unjust as were their loud murmurs against
the man who, to believe them, had forgotten them, sold
them, and been faithless and untrue to his pledges, yet
their misery was great, their frames were gnawed with
want, and they had been forced to recoil again and
again before the shock of Austria's onset.
Charles-Albert himself was maddened with indignation
by the disaffection of his soldiers and subjects against him.
"They curse me behind my back ; let us see what they will
dare say to my face!" he exclaimed, angrily, on the morn-
ing of the battle of Novara, and, disregarding the warn-
ings of his generals and of his staff, he mounted a fresh
horse, and, with teeth clinched and hands sternly gripped
on the bridle, he rode straight into his sullen, fog-soak-
ed, powder-begrimed Piedmontese army, so embittered
against him, so ready to upbraid him, if nothing worse,
down into the close- wedged ranks, into the very heart of
the malcontents and rebels, till, when his charger could
push a way no further, he contemptuously faced those who
but a few moments before were loudly clamorous against
him without a flicker of his keen, brave eyes.
Utter amazement followed this certainly most unex-
pected apparition in the dark smoke and the white, cling-
ing, drenching fog, and a great silence fell upon the whole
enormous assembly.
"So you are cursing and upbraiding me, I am told!"
he cried, in a voice which penetrated to the very last
ranks of his momentarily cowed troops. "See! I am
here, tell me what wrong I have done you?"
There was in the familiar, challenging tone something
which struck a chord never quite dumb in men's hearts,
"
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
white in the cool bravery, the sang-froid of the King,
sitting firmly on his nervously plunging horse, his face
unblanched, his eyes meeting theirs with complete
and undisguised scorn, was something which tempo-
rarily arrested their mad irritation. But suddenly a
single piping, shrill voice cried out from some undis-
covered point: "Give up the crown, or down with
you!"
At once savage yells and uncouth oaths broke from
these men, persuaded that they were but poor, purblind
tools, forced to do all the dirty, difficult work for this
man set so high above them, obliged to tunnel his way for
him, to throw the bridges by which he hoped to pass on
to victory, while they lay gasping, dying, wounded,
starved, cast aside, unrewarded and unthanked, and a
fierce grudge against what they called his pestilential
tyranny burned in their breasts. Were they, then, to be
forever and ever the mill-horses made to grind for his
profit and glory? So they roared and shouted them-
selves hoarse, hurling the most undeserved and senseless
charges at him, while he listened, unmoved, his thorough-
bred rearing and fretting, terrified at the pushing forms
jammed and crushed against its sleek sides, at the forest
of hands and arms tossing in violent protest, at the thou-
sands of voices thundering imprecations, at the hungry,
savage sea of upturned faces, with bright, fierce eyes
and wide-open mouths foul with curses and twisted with
slavering hatred.
Late that night, in a little peasant hut sheltered by
trees dripping with the soaking rain, which veiled the
whole landscape and dulled and blotted it out like a
soaked fusain drawing — one of those cheerless nights
which even in balmy Italy are dreary and depressing and
overhung with mist and cloud beyond all description —
Count Thurn, Commandant of the Fourth Austrian
136
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Army Corps sat with several of his officers around a fire
of crackling pine-cones and dried furze.
The house, low, lonely, poor, was overhung with fes-
toons of vines beginning to bud, through which the
swiftly descending drops pattered lugubriously. In the
darkness, beyond the faint glow filtering through the
wet window, a few shepherds, goat-herds, and, per-
chance, one or two men of a less peaceable calling, whose
arguments had much to do with powder, ball, and dagger,
had taken shelter beneath a gigantic fig-tree, beside a
pool of green, slimy water, on the other side of which the
troopers of Count Thurn's escort had tethered their
horses under a half-demolished shed.
Suddenly a small travelling-carriage came in sight,
the tired horses splashing and sinking wearily over their
fetlocks in reddish liquid mire; it stopped before the
rickety door of the little house, and from it descended
a man who walked with a slight lameness from a strain
in his right foot. This did not detract from a proud,
somewhat commanding grace of bearing, stamping him
at first glance as a personage of distinction, and when he
advanced into the miserable room where Count Thurn
and the officers of his staff had just supped, they rose to
greet him, inwardly wondering who so grand-looking a
man could be, travelling thus accompanied by a single
humble attendant, who had remained outside with the
goat-skin-clad driver of the little travelling-carriage.
The stranger stood bareheaded before the Austrian
commander and bowed. " I am Count de Barge, a Pied-
montese cavalry officer, and after your forces won the
battle of Novara I obtained permission to absent myself
from the army during the duration of the armistice.
Your Emperor should be a proud man to-night, for his
army has fought bravely and fairly. Charles- Albert has
abdicated, and you will now no doubt conclude peace on
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
easy and honorable terms. Will you pardon me if I in-
trude upon you for a few moments while my sorry team
is fed?"
" You are welcome, sir! Any stranger, be he friend or
foe, is entitled to shelter on such a night, but pray do not
waste breath or time on courtesies ; you must be tired and
hungry. Let me see what our meagre larder can offer
you."
"No, no! Do not trouble," he replied. "A cup of
the hot coffee I see on the table is all I need, since you
are so kind."
There was a charm in this stranger's manner that was
quite irresistible; he talked well and with a great ac-
curacy of knowledge about military matters in general,
and the present war in particular, and Count Thurn de-
rived much pleasure from the cultured and sympathetic
conversation of this brilliant and interesting unknown,
who certainly possessed the gift of facile and eloquent
words to an unusual degree.
At last he rose abruptly. Two hours and a half had
gone by since he had entered the hut. Count Thurn
signed his pass through the Austrian line£ before accom-
panying him to the door.
"It would be commonplace to thank you. I have
trespassed too long on your patience, and you have been
courtesy itself to a fallen enemy," he said, in gracious
acknowledgment .
Count Thurn made a gesture of deprecation, and bowed
very low.
" Good-night, sir ; there can be no mention of gratitude
on your part. It is for us to thank you, for you have
spoken to our hearts. Good-night again, and may you
have a fair and safe journey."
When " Count de Barge" had bowed himself out, and
the creaking door had closed behind him, Thurn glanced
138
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
a£ his watch ; it was three hours after midnight, and in the
distance the sonorous voice of a young shepherd was
singing as he drove his sheep through the slackening rain
towards the distant pastures:
" Ad ogni finestra vo' tendere un lacio
A tradimento per tradir la luna
A tradimento per tradir le stelle
A tradimento per tradir il sole
Perche restai tradito dall' Amore!"
Many days later Count Thurn discovered that his
guest of that night was no less a personage than King
Charles-Albert on his way to seek a refuge in Portugal,
where, three months afterwards, he died at Oporto of a
broken heart. The one servant who had accompanied
him on the evening of Novara, and who alone followed
him into exile, closed the eyes of the proud and valiant
man, who, after abdicating in favor of his son Victor-
Emmanuel, had absolutely refused to be treated other-
wise than as a simple citizen.
Nevertheless, this brave and noble monarch also re-
ceived his quota of public censure. The foul wanderers
of the air love to gather and croak jeeringly around the
dying eagle, and the ever-generous masses, like the toad
in the mud-hole who spits industriously at the firefly,
never miss a chance of defiling that which shines above
them and which their ignorance forbids them to appre-
ciate.
*********
*********
Within ten months after his accession to the throne
young Emperor Francis-Joseph — whom we have long
neglected, it seems to me — stood supreme in his war-
torn dominions. Hungary had at first defied him suc-
cessfully, but Russian aid and dissensions among the
139
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
insurgent leaders at length enabled him to bring to an
end the Hungarian rebellion, while the genius of Radetz-
ky, by the crowning defeat at Novara, saved the Italian
provinces to the Empire.
Once more the Austrians held undisputed sway
throughout the plains of the Po. The carven palaces of
Venice, with their great pointed doors and wide flights of
water-steps — the "Queen of the Adriatic," with its fugi-
tive and unutterable fascination, its green, luxuriant Lido,
shaded by acacia and cereus, its balmy air and radiant
light, its never-ceasing melodies floating down the moon-
bathed lagoons, its delicious fragrance wafted from the
millions of blossoms studding the Brenta meadows, and
many other lovely, covetable cities filled with art treas-
ures of priceless worth, were theirs forever — at least, they
thought so — and the inhabitants of these conquered
lands were bidden to make the best of it. But discon-
tent smouldered beneath the surface. Beautiful Italian
great ladies, proudly ensconced in the galleries of old
palazzi, cursed between their pearly teeth the white-
coated stranieri, and glanced wistfully at the historic
walls around them, which had failed to ward off that
trans-Alpine domination which they considered so crush-
ing a disgrace.
In the narrow, sun-baked streets of Verona, within its
grim old fortifications, where emerald-hued lizards scam-
per away at the mere rustle of the brown grass* within
its desolate houses, beat many hearts that burned for
revenge against the light-hearted conquerors who were
seeking to waltz themselves into favor to the gay strains
of their regimental bands, and who poured floods of pret-
ty speeches into the unwilling ears of those modern re-
productions of the pretty, black-eyed maidens, immortal-
ized by the masterly hand of their great compatriot,
Paolo Veronese.
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Every heart held close to the past, and the spectator
was moved to a curious sense that the present was unreal,
and that the clock of time had been suddenly set back
many years. The people would not break the spell, nor
allow themselves to believe that their dream of national
glory had fled forever, but all the gay, elastic insou-
ciance of the Latin temperament was gone from them, and
they were content only when, after the Couvre-feu had
sounded, their towns grew still, the pigeons went to
roost with a great whir of wings in the square, ivy-
grown church-towers, and the old chimes called the
faithful to "Ave-Maria."
The keenest observers alone detected a scent of death
amid the spiced odors of the pine woods and a reek as of
the blood that was later to be shed heavy upon the air of
Lombardy and Venetia ; saw the faint gleam of the star
of liberty rising slowly, furtively above the mountains;
and heard a faint, prophetic sound as of the strife that
was soon to come again and destroy so many young
Austrian and Italian lives ; but for the time being Aus-
trian hearts beat high with pride, because the joy of suc-
cess was theirs.
And, during all these months, what of Archduchess
Sophia? More proudly than ever, now that she could
distinctly see the superb results of her training, she loved
her Imperial son. The hand of time which mellows and
softens all things had not altered her haughty chilliness
nor changed the stately, noble-looking woman in a single
particular, yet towards her eldest boy her heart yearned
in all his troubles and vicissitudes, and beat high when,
watching him from afar, she saw how his splendid nat-
ure, at the first call of duty, had leaped up from its qui-
escence, like a lion from its sleep.
She never permitted him to know it, of course, but
she was determined that his life should still be moulded
141
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
by her will, and by her decree she still held that his fate
should be ruled. Although, in justice to her be it said,
that when, during that fearful year of 1849, s^e saw the
haggard, broken look his young face wore, the hollow
circles beneath his eyes, the air of wearing pain hardly
concealed by the quiet dignity of his bearing, she was
seized with a baffled sense of despair at these sorrowful
signs of what her ambition had brought upon him and
was now quite beyond her power to alter.
Her soul had striven to accomplish a great and noble
work, she had given her whole life to this end, and as she
gained it she could not but see that it left him, in the
first flower of his youth, to suffer for her boundless am-
bition. Yet, even at such moments of bitter and poig-
nant regret, she would not yield or confess even to her-
self that her darling's happiness and freedom had been
and was forever sacrificed. She would have given her
life for his, but she would not admit that, in so far as
Franz himself was concerned, the fruit of her sowing was
evil, and that the burden of sovereignty she had laid
upon him was passing heavy, even for his broad, young
shoulders.
Indeed, his burden was during those weary months an
especially crushing weight, and the young Emperor, who
soon after his accession had selected as the motto expres-
sive of his political ideal Viribus Unitis (united forces),
saw moments when he might well despair of the realiza-
tion of this fair dream.
It was when Jellachich was ignominiously beaten by
Gorgey, the great Hungarian commander, on the 6th of
April, at Isaszeg, that Archduchess Sophia saw her son's
calm utterly broken for the first time. They had been
discussing the gravity of the situation together earnestly
when news of the catastrophe arrived.
The Archduchess drew nearer to him and laid her
142
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
hand upon his shoulder — that hand made to hold so
fifmly and to relinquish power so unwillingly.
He did not move nor turn his eyes to her, but sat mo-
tionless and silent, and the mother's white and shapely
fingers involuntarily tightened their light grasp, her fine,
clear-cut features growing pale, her lips twitching ever
so slightly.
Gently but inexorably he put her hand from him and
moved away a little.
A shiver ran through her frame, and both her hands
this time fell upon his shoulders again.
"My son," she said, in a calm, cold voice, "I am
your mother, and also your best and most loyal ad-
viser. I have brought you to the throne, and it is
but meet that I should help you now to bear your
troubles."
The veins swelled upon the young man's temples; he
was deadly white, and he moved from beneath her touch
once more.
"My own peace, my life, my soul — I would give all
to stop this carnage, to attain my aim, which was to
bring them peace and happiness, but I cannot, I can-
not!" he cried, desperately, struggling vainly with un-
controllable emotion.
The words rang out in passionate bitterness, in piti-
less condemnation of himself, and the imperious woman,
who had never as yet known fear, trembled as she heard
them and was sore afraid, for until that hour she had
never suspected, nay, not even she, the depths of his
character.
"You have done better than well until now, Franz,"
she protested. "You have accomplished more than
any man of your age ever did. Effort is for man, my
child, but the result is with God. Cease to blame your-
self so unjustly."
143
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
"I have done nothing, accomplished nothing; my ef-
fort has been barren."
His voice sounded hollow with pain, like a cry wrung
from the breaking strength of a courageous soul, and his
mother shivered a second time, while in her eyes, which
had rarely shown such weakness, tears gathered — tears
for his so sorely tried strength and for his passing weak-
ness, for the grief depicted on his face, for the misery of
it all — and the tenderness which was ever a hidden
treasure with this high-spirited, high -mettled woman
momentarily transformed her whole being into a truly
gracious figure of motherhood, and bore down the harsh-
ness which she had at first assumed as a tonic for his
shaken nerves.
For one long hour his step unceasingly paced the room
where they were alone together, while she sat on a
carved, high-backed chair, motionless from the crown
of her shapely head — since a few weeks delicately frosted
with a little silver — to the hem of her olive-hued velvet
gown, giving no further sign of her pity or her adora-
tion for the only living being for whom she really cared,
since just then both sympathy and severity seemed
equally unbearable to him.
At last he stopped his weary walk, the recently ac-
quired bronze of his face paled to a sickly tint, and stood
before her quite silent, save for the deep-drawn breath-
ing that shook his tall frame. In that hour he had suf-
fered more cruel chastisement than pursues guilt from
prison to scaffold; now, however, he was almost master
of himself, and when he spoke his voice, although a
little forced in its constraint, was nearly steady.
"I have been mad for a while, I think, but I must
be so no longer. I will place myself at the head of Ben-
edek's Brigade and I will march upon Raab. I have
been kept here too long, because I was told that my
144
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
presence upon the bastions encouraged and heartened the
tr6ops ; but action in the field is what I need ; nothing else
will restore my energy to me." And he smiled faintly.
The Archduchess had risen and stood before him,
strangely touched, although every word the young Em-
peror spoke quivered like a knife in her heart, and, in
, the bitterness of her anxiety, she suddenly became con-
' scious that she had at last encountered a determination
beside which even her own was dwarfed.
For a moment there was silence, and in that moment
the tortured mother gathered back her strength, and
resumed the armor of calm composure which she wore
nearly always with friend and foe.
"Franz, you are nobler and greater than I had ever
dreamed you would be," she said, simply.
He turned his head away with a quick gesture, so that
she might not see the sudden tears which prevented him
from speaking, his hand closed on the one held to him, he
bowed low, kissed the cold fingers lying passively with-
in his own, then the dull echo of the closing door vi-
brated through the silence and Archduchess Sophia was
alone.
Alone with a grief so sharp in its poignancy, so utter
in its desolation, that even her pride in him was, for
the time, wholly inadequate to console her. The words
that he had uttered, the light of self-sacrifice which
she had beheld on his face, were now her tempters and
torturers. Should she bid him spare himself — and her;
should she now, after all her teachings and examples,
recant? The very thought of so great a humiliation
was unbearable; but in a flash she realized what her
life would be should he fall in one of the battles which
drenched the fair soil of the Empire she had made his
with blood; her fevered imagination displayed to her
the terrible, lonely, loveless course of years which she
10 145
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
would be condemned to pass. Could she endure it?
Her head sank between her hands, great sobs heaved
her breast, shaking her from head to foot, and she
wept, not as women weep, but as men weep, from the
depth of their being; she had hardly strength for such
a trial. Yet, breathe in his ear the whispers of cau-
tion, undo — if she could, and that she doubted — the
labor of eighteen years, sacrifice his reverence and ad-
miration for herself! She could not. No, no! Not even
her mother's love, her mother's fears could make her do
such a thing.
The twilight deepened into night, the shadows grew
more sombre around her, but still she sat there, her head
bowed, her heart and soul turning to water within her.
Of what avail were now her pride, her will, her iron force,
her haughty dominance, since they could not shield her
from this misery, the common lot of mothers. The long
corridors and vast halls of the Hofburg were as silent as
death, save for the occasional faint sound of an Arcieren-
gard's muffled step as he went his rounds. From afar,
now and again, the sharp rattle of musketry came from
the ramparts, or the challenge of a sentry rang out with a
swift click of arms from the inner yard below her open
windows; but hours passed and she did not move, until
out of the sheer weariness of her misery arose reconquered
resolution; the doubts, the conflicting ambitions, hopes
and fears for Franz her son, and Francis- Joseph her ideal
sovereign, that had torn her heart asunder, fell from her,
and, throwing herself upon her bed as the dawn broke,
she slept dreamlessly — sleep bringing her oblivion and
peace.
She awakened with the light of the sun, warm and
clear, beating upon her face. The memory of a great
struggle came back to her, but softened by a strange feel-
ing of relief, of serenity, and also of self-pity, for she real-
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ized now how futile would have been her efforts had she
attempted, in her folly, to turn him from his purpose.
Nor was she again shaken in the knowledge of her limita-
tions when she bade him God-speed a few hours later,
and saw in his eyes, blent with his habitual look of fond
reverence for herself, when she heard in his voice, al-
though yet tenderer than usual, an unconquerable de-
termination, a resolve which could no longer be swayed
or bent at her will.
Never, in all that had gone before, did the Austrian
troops behave so superbly as when, with their young
sovereign at their head, his well-known, well-loved voice
thrilling their stout hearts, the brigade of Benedek
forced an entrance into the Hungarian town of Raab , and
drove the insurgents to take refuge in Acs, where they
were soon to be surrounded by their victorious enemies.
When he led them the Austrian forces were invincible ;
they surged about him, striking, thrusting, pouring down
upon their antagonists like torrents of lava from the
heart of a volcano, bursting through bristling forests of
steel, and foot to foot, breast to breast, rolling back the
desperate tide of Magyar valor. Francis-Joseph greatly
honored these men who so magnificently opposed him,
and I have myself heard him say of them, "They were
fighters who would take no quarter, who kept their faces
to the front till they were stretched in heaps upon the
ground, and their unconquerable bravery made our vic-
tories almost as costly as defeats."
But how shall I describe the boundless gratitude, the
joy too deep for words, of Archduchess Sophia when both
Italian and Hungarian war-clouds had rolled away from
the land, and when, looking upon her son, she saw in
him the saviour of the Habsburg Crown and the Habs-
burg honor? The radiance in his eyes quivered deep in
her own heart, and there was on her face — which showed
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indelible traces of her cruel anxieties during the past
weeks — the light of an unutterable gladness which he
had not seen there even on his return after Santa Lucia,
though she forbore to throw her arms about him in a
frenzy of triumph. For the first time in her life she was
completely and blissfully content, and he, too, smiled
happily upon her, for the intensity of her jealous and im-
perious love for him, great in its usurpation of his whole
personality, had never as yet alarmed him, as it might
well have done had he but known what was to follow.
The unforeseen is chiefly dreaded by women, by men
more rarely, and by such men as Francis-Joseph never;
and, holding her upon his heart, pressing her closely to
his breast, he could not dream that that very love would
bring his strength and his life to their uttermost strain
of endurance, and fetter him, and another dearer than all
else, in unbreakable, un en durably galling chains, until,
like a man bruised and stunned by mortal blows, he
should be shaken by a voiceless agony and overwhelmed
by the deep waters of a bitter anguish.
The Emperor's attitude towards Radetzky, who had
so splendidly saved Lombardy to the Empire, was a ver-
itable revelation of the depths of gratitude his young
heart could contain, and the grace and courtliness, the
almost filial tenderness of his manner to the aged war-
rior became him well indeed.
Radetzky 's step had now become feeble, his back was
bent, and his wrinkled countenance showed but too plain-
ly the fatigue and strain of the eighty-one valiant years
he had left behind him ; but his smile was still infinitely
bright, there was an undying humor about the lines of
his mouth, and he had as yet lost none of his interest in
life.
In the spring of 1849 ne nacl received the Order of the
Golden Fleece at the hands of Archduke Wilhelm, sent by
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tfye Emperor to confer upon him this mark of favor rare
in the case of non-royal personages, and a gold, silver,
and bronze medal of great beauty, around which was
graven, "Josephus, Conies Radetsky, Summus Austria
Dux" (Joseph, Count Radetzky, Chief Captain of Aus-
tria), but a still more graceful tribute was in store for
him.
On the morning of his first namesday after the battle
of Novara, upon entering his study, he found on his desk
a superbly carved double-headed eagle of oxidized sil-
ver standing with outspread wings upon an onyx column,
the foot of which was adorned with exquisitely wrought
war trophies. Between its clutching talons the Imperial
bird held a miniature portrait of the Emperor, beauti-
fully executed, and an envelope containing the following
lines, written by the giver, Archduchess Sophia:
" Der du gedeckt den Kaiserhaar
Du Gottes starker Heldenschild
O! werd'der Mutter Dank gewahr
Du ihres Herrn und Sohnes' Bild!
" Dein Vateraug' sich dran erfreu'
Bis dass, vom Reich beweint, es bricht
Und dir, der Herr fur deine Treu'
Urns Schwert den ew' gen Lorbeer flicht!"
Beside this magnificent present there reposed in a pur-
ple velvet box a sparkling sword, and upon its wonder-
fully chiselled and jewelled hilt was inscribed in diamond
letters, "To the greatest and the most valorous soldier
of Austria, from his grateful sovereign and pupil, Francis-
Joseph I." The remaining space upon the broad, oaken
table was covered with stephanotis — Radetzky 's favorite
flower — and with fresh, green, crisp branches of laurels,
bearing their innumerable metallic-looking little berries.
The grim old warrior stood, looking from one to the
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other of these touching tokens of reverence and affection,
in silent gratitude, the golden motes of the sunbeams
dancing in through the open window growing vague and
confused before his eyes as he thought of the loyal, con-
stant, brave young sovereign who, at so early an age,
had just gone through so harsh and bitter a training, and
whom pride had kept always silent when most sorely
troubled, even with this dear old friend whom he so
greatly trusted.
Often Radetzky's heart had ached for him, and had he
followed his impulse he would have spoken to the boy he
loved words of consoling sympathy and encouragement ;
but well he knew that this would have been not only the
most inadvisable but the most distasteful thing that he
could have done.
Radetzky did full justice to Archduchess Sophia. He
recognized that the weapons she used were of a nature to
cut the hands which plied them sooner or later, that she
was an irritatingly exacting and terribly autocratic and
imperious woman, but neither was he blind to her many
grand qualities, and, thinking of the finer, he overlooked
the less pleasing side of her nature, although what his
keen, shrewd spirit allowed him to divine of Francis-
Joseph's future, when the mother's love and blind jeal-
ousy would find a rival really worthy of her steel, brought
him that birthday morn into a train of thoughts which
were an acute pain.
"Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait," he mur-
mured sadly to the amazed aide-de-camp who had just
entered, arid who stood respectfully at a distance looking
over at the table where the magnificent Imperial eagle
glittered in the morning light.
When, nine years later, the heroic old man breathed his
last, there had, alas, already happened much to justify
his fears.
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. It was in Northern Italy, still then under Austrian rule,
but in Italy, that land of contrasts par excellence, where
sighs and laughter, mirth and death, love and hatred are
ever as cunningly intermingled as the scarlet tulips of
Lombardy are with its rippling meadow-grasses, or the
stars of the silvery -leaved borage, rolling their azure
waves with the golden wheat-fields of Piedmont, that Ra-
detzky's ninety-two years were brought to a close, with-
out a pang, and with the shadow of his old, brave smile on
his lips, together with a last blessing from his departing
soul for his beloved sovereign. His body, however, was
brought home in great pomp, and at his splendid funeral
all those present could see how profound was the sorrow
of the young Emperor at the irreparable loss of his dear
old friend.
CHAPTER VI
GREAT changes began to take place throughout the
Empire as soon as peace was restored. The young
monarch had ripened rapidly during the first months of
his arduous and difficult reign, and with his usual decis-
ion he immediately set about doing what he had ap-
pointed for himself to do. And allow me to add that
when Francis-Joseph sets his mind to accomplish a thing,
his friends and his enemies alike know that his obstina-
cy— to call it by a very hard name — is very difficult to
overcome.
His life was now one of the most brilliant and envied
in the world, although there were many things to worry,
annoy, and distress him still, many miseries which he
could not alleviate, and which weighed upon his kind
heart, many sudden crises which yawned like abysses
before his feet, and which could at a moment's notice
precipitate Austria into fathomless desolation.
These awful responsibilities that had descended upon
his life, as swiftly as in tropical latitudes the violet night
falls down upon the dazzling day, often depressed him
deeply. Sometimes he looked mechanically round upon
the glitter of his Court, upon the fair lands that he ruled,
wondering greatly at the suddenness and contrast of the
change, and bent his head as though under the weight
of some great bodily burden, but, ever mindful of a fa-
vorite maxim, " He who endures, conquers," he faced life
and duty alike with proud serenity, never giving any
outward sign of regret or of weariness.
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A fitting motto, indeed, for that man of ever- vigi-
lant energy, whose intensity of application has always
been such that throughout all his long life he has never
allowed himself to slur over anything, or to omit search-
ing out the minutest points of every subject that he has
encountered! He has given his personal attention to
every detail of administration, making himself as accessi-
ble to the lowliest peasant as to the greatest noble, has
investigated thoroughly all aspects of every question,
and fully deliberated every step before it was taken.
And yet neither the enormous amount of work he has
accomplished — rising at five every morning and being
at his desk before six, often even still earlier — nor the
few short hours set aside for sleep, nor even the ex-
cessive bodily fatigue entailed by countless other duties,
necessitated by the way in which he understood and
performed son metier de souverain, ever told on his
health. His eyes are as bright, his skin as clear, his
step as buoyant after his overwhelming task is over
for the day, as when he arises before dawn from the
little, narrow camp-bed which has always been his
fad.
And notwithstanding all the cares and distractions
that pressed upon him, none have ever come to him for
help and gone away empty-handed or empty-hearted;
he has granted his aid and patronage to every unfriended
talent or merit, and has ever had a kind word or a gen-
erous action for all who approached him as he followed
his difficult way through the toil, the envy, the insin-
cerity, and the bitterness of this world.
Of course one gains experience and skill in his as in
every other walk of life, but even at the time of which I
write, the Emperor, with the rapidity of a perfectly
trained mind, already had every detail of the great Im-
perial engine clear as crystal always before him; his con-
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ciseness and comprehensiveness were unerring and of al-
most mathematical exactness.
He no more lost his head, now that success began to
smile upon his plans, than when the situation had been
at its darkest, and he pursued his way clear of eye as of
conscience, and quite regardless of what might be said
of him by friend or foe, for another of his favorite say-
ings has always been: "No man in his senses should
care for public applause or public condemnation, see-
ing with whom the verdict is always shared." Young
as he was, his eyes had been washed by the collyrium
of experience, and he understood and appreciated adula-
tions at their full value; indeed, there was a queer little
smile on his lips sometimes which greatly disconcerted
his most ardent courtiers.
Under such a man the great work of reconstruction
could not but go swiftly forward. Wise regulations en-
couraged agriculture, industry, and commerce in the war-
racked land, countless abuses were corrected, and taxes
abolished. A new scheme of national education was de-
vised and set in operation ; new highways were construct-
ed in all parts of the country ; the railroad system greatly
extended ; and the instigator of all these schemes had the
satisfaction of seeing that his assiduity, his heroic self-
forgetfulness were reaping their reward, and that his in-
fluence for good was growing greater every day.
The methods by which he wrought all this have been
bitterly criticised, alike by the small-minded, who greatly
love to carp at those above them, and by the sober ad-
herent of modern political systems, the special offences
cited being, first, that within three years of his acces-
sion on the i st of January, 1852, he abolished the Con-
stitution of the Empire, and for the next eight years,
ruled as the head of a strongly centralized "military
despotism," so called, only according constitutional
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rights to his subjects again in 1860; and, secondly, that
by the Concordat of 1855 he greatly strengthened the
power of the Church throughout his dominions, and
practically delivered matters educational into ecclesi-
astical hands.
It is strange that there should be so little comprehen-
sion of the character of Francis-Joseph, and of the realm
which he rules.
It should be remembered that half a century after
the founders of New England crossed the Atlantic, the
greater part of Hungary, or nearly one-half of the Dual
Empire, as it is to-day, was still under the dominion
of the Turks, who were only entirely expelled in 1718.
Of the Empire's present population of forty - five mill-
ions— it has increased by fifteen millions since the Em-
peror's accession — some eleven millions are Germans,
some nine millions Magyars, and the remaining twenty-
five millions are for the most part divided among the
various Slavonic nationalities and dialects, as, for ex-
ample, Bohemian, Pole, Slovak, Slovene, and Croat. Of
late years — though this is aside from the subject — to
" make the gruel thick and slab " by the mixture of re-
ligion as well as of race, many thousands of Bosnian and
Herzegovinian Mohammedans have been added to it.
The mass of the people is agricultural, and if even to-day
they are ignorant and primitive enough, fifty years ago,
rated according to these characteristics, the country
stood very close to Russia indeed, without Russia's lin-
guistic and racial solidarity. Fiery Teuton, semi-Ori-
ental Magyar, and rude Slav, with the feuds and hatreds
of ages in their hearts, were only to be kept from tearing
each other's throats by the Imperial authority and that
of the Church.
Was such an assemblage ripe for partial self-govern-
ment, for a constitution, when our Emperor ascended
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the throne? No, a thousand times no! And, if the
truth is to be told, it seems as if it were not ripe for
it even now, and would not be for long years to come,
as would appear to be abundantly proven by the in-
cessant squabbles and disturbances of which the Lower
House of the Reichsrath has been the scene ever since
1860.
Could Francis- Joseph, moreover, have succeeded in
transforming and pacifying such a realm, crippled, rav-
aged, and scourged by centuries of strife and bloodshed,
in less than ten short years had he been hampered by a
Parliament? No, again; a million, million times no!
It is because for that period of time he worked alone,
great as was the labor, that now from mountain to plain,
from vine-clad hamlet to populous city, from sapphire
sea to sparkling Alpine glacier, Austro-Hungary is what
she is to-day, peaceful and prosperous. It is thanks
to that man alone, whose name should be blazoned in
gold on all her monuments, and cherished in every Aus-
trian heart ; it is thanks to his limitless courage, wisdom,
and perseverance that a collection of semi-feudal king-
doms and dependencies were moulded into a modern
state.
The autumn of 1851 was a singularly cold and severe
one ; heavy storms swept down from the mountains of the
" Salzkammergut " and of Tyrol, and the incessant sound
of rain filled the lulls of the furious winds. Rivers,
streams, brooks, lakes swelled past all belief and spread
desolation and terror through every valley and plain
which bordered their channels. At first homesteads,
then clusters of houses, and finally whole villages were
washed away, ponderous dams burst asunder under the
pressure of the waters as had they been built of match-
wood, newly made high-roads were totally destroyed,
and great wheat-fields swept into worthless heaps of
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sodden straw by innocent-looking little rills of murmur-
ing foam, that tumbled merrily at dawn over banks of
forget-me-nots, and at nightfall had changed into dev-
astating torrents. Many lives were sacrificed, and the
stricken people were losing all courage before this calam-
ity, and failing to take proper measures for the safety of
what remained to them, or, in one word, to make the best
of a situation already sufficiently bad, when news came
that the Emperor was on his way to personally help
them in their distress.
Any other than Francis-Joseph would assuredly have
considered that to send help and any moneys that the
necessities of the moment demanded would be all that
could be expected of him. Not so the young wearer of
the Dual Crown, to whom this was but a new call for per-
sonal action, and who, as soon as the news of those disas-
ters reached him, lost no time, but started immediately
over extremely unsafe and precipitous mountain-roads —
for he had been hunting in Carinthia — towards that por-
tion of his Empire which was so sorely stricken.
The trip was in itself no mean peril, for the roads were
barely passable, thanks to the mountain water-courses
dashing under and over them in many places, and the
furious rain pouring, swirling, and thundering without
any merciful intermission from leaden, lowering skies;
but when His Majesty's post-chaise became untenable,
its determined occupant first rode on a pony well used to
mountain travel, and finally walked, in order to reach
his destination.
There are few things more dreary and dismal to look
upon than a prosperous country devastated by flood, the
ochre-colored water thick with mud and detritus, the
frightened birds flying above the turbid swirl with shrill
cries, the continual clangor of the church-bells sound-
ing the tocsin between the gusts and whistlings of the
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wind, the rich pastures and carefully cultivated fields
changed into more or less shallow lakes, or cut across by
foaming channels,' the fruit-laden orchards immersed to
the summit of the trees, make up a tout ensemble which
awes the bravest; and yet when, at the end of a short,
foggy, gray day, the Emperor appeared amid this deso-
lation, there was so bright and heartening a smile upon
his handsome young face that frightened and disheart-
ened men, women, and children came scrambling from
the precarious shelters where they had temporarily hud-
dled, and threw themselves wildly at his feet, uttering
cries of joy and of hope, and calling blessings on his
name.
His mere presence immediately revived their energy,
and, after clinging to him like hysterical children, and
being quietly but sternly reproved for their weakness,
they set about to obey his orders willingly and even
cheerfully. The life-saving boats were, unfortunately,
quite inadequate in number, quality, and size, but,
nevertheless, some kind of method and system was soon
organized, and really one can assert, without any ex-
aggeration or undue partisanship, that the Emperor
wrought miracles, showing throughout a pluck, a deter-
mination, and a devotion quite unequalled, excepting by
his own self when, in 1862, the great, blue Danube, that
marvellous stream possessing such savage grandeur, such
semi-Oriental charm and beauty, burst its boundaries and
swept away many lives from the lower portions of Vien-
na, and completely swamped the beautiful Brigittenau
meadows in the vicinity of the " Kaiserstadt " ; and, also,
when, in 1879, Szegedin, the old Turkish stronghold and
the second town of Hungary, was almost entirely de-
stroyed by the Theiss in flood.
On this latter occasion I was myself present, and well
do I remember how the Emperor threw himself into the
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EMPKROR FRANCIS-JOSEPH IX HIS ROBES OF STATE
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
work, how he toiled night and day, enduring most wear-
ing fatigues and privations, and hourly risking his life
with the greatest possible unconcern.
Always where the danger was greatest, continually
going to and fro under crumbling walls and tottering
buildings in a little boat that he often rowed himself
through the yellow flood-water, he rescued a number of
doomed people with his own hands, and under the ever-
falling rains which discolored and soaked his undress uni-
form, and drenched him to the skin, he dosed sick women
and children with quinine, wine, and meat -juice brought
as close as possible to the destroyed city by his yacht, and
moved about in an atmosphere rendered fetid by float-
ing corpses and the carcasses of dead animals, with a
patience, a cheerfulness, and ever-present self-oblivion
which did more to revive the faltering hearts of the
wretched, homeless, starving creatures around him than
anything else could have done.
Nothing irritated him then — or at least he displayed
not the faintest sign of impatience — when the igno-
rance, poltroonery, or obstinacy of the countless low-
class Jews, who had inhabited Szegedin, made his task
a really exasperating one, and the admiration he in-
spired in those who watched, and, in a small, humble
way, tried to second him, is as deep and strong to-day
as it was twenty years ago.
Indeed, that section of Hungary which had in 1849
fought against him with so fierce and terrible a hatred,
owes this Fits de Preux a heavy debt, for he made a
promise, subsequently kept to the full, of rebuilding
Szegedin "finer than it ever had been before " ; and when
at last he left them, the river having retreated rapidly
and all matters of primary importance having been at-
tended to de main de mattre, there were not a few of
the elder generation who felt shamed and humbled
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
before this grave, weary, careworn man, who had so
literally rendered them good for evil, and that in the
grandest acceptation of the word.
Scores and scores of human beings owed their lives to
his intrepidity, and their subsequent fortunes to his
generosity, for he saw to everything himself, discussed
ways and means to reconstruct the town, made all ar-
rangements for the general relief of thousands, person-
ally read the official estimates of the losses sustained,
wrote, calculated, glanced through endless reports, and
finally with his own hand drew up a plan by which
the recreant river could best be restrained in the fut-
ure, and that with all the knowledge of a specialist.
I will never forget his farewell to the survivors of
the Szegedin disaster. All those strong enough to stand
on their feet crowded around him, lifting their voices in
passionate praise of him, and trying to kiss the edge of
his long military coat, now faded and frayed by con-
tinual contact with slimy water and debris.
The boat which was to convey him to his yacht ran
through the fog-laden dusk and stopped at the foot of
a corner of the bastions spared by the fury of the ele-
ments upon which he stood, and the splash of the oars
warned him that the time of departure had arrived. A
smile was on his lips, and I am not at all ready to assert
that there was not a tell-tale moisture in his kind blue
eyes, as the crowd about him raised a trembling Eljen
of gratitude and homage.
I could not at that moment help murmuring some-
thing to the effect that he should, indeed, be proud and
happy on this occasion, whereupon this extraordinary
man replied, quite simply and gravely:
"Pour quoi done? J'ai fait si peu!" ("Why that?
I did so little!")
I must confess that I looked away for a while from
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the Soldier- Monarch, well proven and war-worn, who
had wrought so untiringly and splendidly that his quiet
repudiation of praise was something almost pathetic,
and that irrepressible tears rose to my eyes.
The fancy fairs, the amateur circus performances, the
gorgeous lotteries which the Viennese aristocracy sub-
sequently organized for the benefit of "poor, ruined
Szegedin" seemed terribly paltry and meretricious after
this, well meant and splendid as they were; but, in emu-
lation of the harmless dove and sagacious serpent, I pre-
served a discreet silence, donned silks and laces in the
sacred cause of charity when occupying the azure and
silver booth where I sold flowers and fruit with praise-
worthy patience and enormous thrift, slipped into hunt-
ing pink to display the prowess of my bay stallion " Fleur
de Roy" to the most patrician and bejewelled audience
in Europe, took turns with the fascinating Countess
Ugarte in leaping hurdles and five-barred gates, and
applauded Pauline Metternich's Stance de prestidigi-
tation enthusiastically, always with the same admirable
object in view; but still all this entrancing glitter made
me only think the more of the dull, gray, flooded
stretches in and about the wrecked town I had so lately
left, and of that one manly, stalwart figure, doing far
more for the wretched survivors, with quiet, unemotional
and unerring magnanimity, than all this empty, though
remunerative, frivolity could ever achieve.
But to go back! On the i8th of February, 1853, all
Europe was aroused to amazement and indignation
by the dastardly attempt of one Joseph Libenyi, a
tailor's assistant from the little Hungarian town of
Stuhlweissenburg, to assassinate the young Emperor-
King.
Several have since been made by other hands, but
that date is not yet forgotten in Austria, and its mere
« 161
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
mention rouses the impulsive loyal -souled Viennese
to imprecations of rage.
What insane desire of notoriety, what mad lust of
blood, had prompted this otherwise cowardly brute, or
was it merely that evil leaven, that poisonous venom,
which, working among the people, begets anarchists,
Nihilists, and demagogues, and which, without warning,
had gone to his weak, stupid, sartorial head, making
him eager to strike down the supremely successful and
dearly beloved Monarch he had not so much as even
seen from afar previous to that fateful day.
A fit representative, this Libenyi, of a class of peo-
ple who continually rave about oppression and the
wrongs they are made to endure, while they beat their
wives to make them work the harder, and send their
anaemic little children to the sweat-shop; who loudly
clamor for the "rights of man," each one meaning there-
by a wider scope for his own low impulses, and who
spend their evil lives yelling sedition in drinking saloons,
plotting murders, or rolling, dead-drunk, in the gutter,
in order to conclusively demonstrate and emphasize
their fitness for equality with all that is best and noblest.
Swift has rightly said that to call a man ungrateful
is to sum up all the evil of which he can be guilty. Had
an Italian — it is generally Italians, I believe, who per-
petrate such deeds — been the Emperor's assailant, no
great surprise, especially at that time, would have been
evinced, but for one of the subjects of this great, kind,
and eminently just man to raise his hand against him
was ingratitude indeed.
At midday the Emperor, who had as usual already
done seven hours' hard work with his secretaries and his
Flugel-Adjudant dictating, annotating, reading reports,
and signing state papers (for indolence or even mere
leisure is a thing the untiring, unsparing, over- con -
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
scientious Monarch never indulges in), swallowed his
frugal lunch — invariably served on a corner of his writ-
ing-desk and despatched in five minutes — rang for his
coat and cap, and walked out with Colonel Count Maxi-
milian O'Donnell, his Flugel-Adjudant, for his daily
"constitutional" on the inner bastions.
There was but little noise and movement in the
neighborhood of the Hofburg at this hour, which, in
those days, was that very generally set for dinner,
when they stepped past the saluting sentries at a side
entrance, and marched off briskly towards the Kdrntner-
thor. It was a chill winter afternoon, and the two tall,
soldierly figures, both wearing undress uniforms and
long military overcoats, stood sharply profiled against
the pale, misty gray of the rasping atmosphere as they
stopped for a minute to glance at some newly begun
repairs of the bastion beneath their feet.
At that moment a man, with a face stupidly brutal
in its lineaments and its dogged, sullen expression, sprang
upon the Emperor from behind, and Count O'Donnell's
eye caught the flash of a long, pointed knife. For a
fleeting instant the Count gazed at the assailant blankly,
and almost paralyzed with horror, then, with a bound,
he threw himself upon him and hurled him backwards,
but, his foot slipping on the frozen pavement, they
crashed together to the ground. The Count, putting
out all his strength, forced his antagonist down and
knelt upon his chest, striking at him furiously with
his clenched fist, for he was nearly beside himself at
the spectacle he had just witnessed. The knife had
fallen from the would-be murderer's hand, and he fought
like a wild beast to regain it, but it lay too far from
their writhing, closely entwined bodies, and presently,
with a clever twist of the wrist, the Flugel-Adjudant
managed to unsheath his sword. Vainly he tried to
163
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
use its razor-like blade without letting his adversary
slip from his grasp, and quite unheeding a curiously
weak voice, which he heard but did not comprehend,
monotonously repeating, " Put away your sword, O'Don-
nell; put away your sword."
Fortunately, at this moment, a passer-by, attracted
by the turmoil, ran swiftly up, and catching Libenyi
by his long, greasy, unkempt hair, banged his head
several times violently against the ground, a course of
action which had the very natural effect of putting an
immediate end to the fight, for Libenyi, who had cut
his hands severely in grasping the sword, was not proof
against this new and yet severer punishment, and momen-
tarily lost consciousness.
A score of people were now rushing from all sides to
the spot, and Count O'Donnell, jumping to his feet,
hastened to the Emperor's side ; but, to his terror, he saw
that the latter was staggering, and that a thin stream
of blood, slowly welling out from the back of his neck,
had made a broad, rapidly increasing stain on his coat,
between the shoulders.
"Sind Mafestdt verwundetf" exclaimed the appalled
Flugel-Adjudant, throwing his arm about his Imperial
master, and looking searchingly at the livid face before
him. Then, turning to those who held Libenyi, he cried,
fiercely, "Kill the brute! kill the brute!"
Libenyi, who meanwhile had recovered consciousness,
and who saw that the death he had wished to deal to
another was now nigh unto himself — which is quite
another affair — gazed up at the Emperor with wild,
passionate appeal, his whole frame shivering, his limbs
growing powerless and giving under him like those of
a drunken man when he was put on his feet, and cried,
hoarsely, " Have mercy on me! O, God! have mercy on
me!"
164
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Francis- Joseph, dizzy and weak from loss of blood,
disengaged himself from his rescuer's arms, and with
his own kindly smile, just then a little wan, said, gently,
" Do not hurt him; he has been badly mauled already."
The crowd cheered vociferously at this characteristic
display of magnanimity, and would have escorted him
in triumph had he not moved off then, leaning heav-
ily upon Count O'Donnell, and proceeded slowly to
Archduke Albrecht's palace, only a few hundred yards
distant, motioning his enthusiastic subjects to stand
back, and even refusing to let a carriage be fetched.
As the two walked away, blood-stained and mud-be-
spattered, the Emperor murmured, in allusion to the
many recent murders of Austrian soldiers by the people
in the streets of Milan, "Jetzt geht's mir wie meinen
armen Soldaten in Mailand!" (Now I've been served
like my poor soldiers in Milan.)
O'Donnell was shaking from head to foot, for he knew
well that the wound must be a dangerous one to thus
prostrate so strong and stout-hearted a man, and he
could not help crying out: "By God! Sire, you should
not have spared this fiend!"
The wounded Emperor was by then far too weak,
however, to remonstrate or even reply, and fainted away
as soon as he reached his uncle's residence. Physicians
were, of course, immediately summoned, but long ere
they arrived the faithful O'Donnell, fearing that the
wound might be poisoned, had sucked it free of all pos-
sibility of venom.
It was, indeed, a very narrow escape which Francis-
Joseph had just had, for the blow would undoubtedly
have been fatal had not Count O'Donnell's quick action
caused the knife to swerve and be partly arrested by the
buckle of the Emperor's military cravat, thus prevent-
ing any more serious consequences than the infliction
'65
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
of a deep flesh wound, and a consequent heavy hemor-
rhage.
When an hour later, Archduchess Sophia heard of his
accident as she sat in the spacious study where she wove
her fine political nets, and from whence she kept her wary
eyes — those brilliant, falcon-like orbs which could often
detect what a phalanx of ministers failed to observe —
upon every corner of her son's immense Empire, she sum-
moned the Chief of Police to her side, and gave him in-
structions which filled even this hardened and well-sea-
soned functionary with awe.
From that day on, moreover, she became sterner, more
severe, and more disposed than ever to make, as the
French say, " a pair of gloves out of the skin of her most
loyal and devoted friend," for the son she had so nearly
lost — had he expressed a wish for so unique and unpleas-
ant a hand covering.
She was really constructed of splendidly tempered
steel, this amazing Archduchess, and toiled none the less
now, in the days of her success, than she had done when
wrenching the crown from Ferdinand to place it on the
head of its present wearer; nor was she a whit less
punctual, careful or methodical. Indeed everything she
undertook was done with a conscientious thoroughness,
none the less complete because its far-sighted motive
was her son's aggrandizement instead of her own, for
truly she loved him a million more times than herself.
Her gratitude towards Count O'Donnell was naturally
without limit, and she made a point of treating him
henceforth as a member of the family, inviting him con-
stantly to luncheon and dinner at the Hofburg, Schon-
brunn or wherever else the Court might happen to so-
journ, declaring, moreover, to whom it might or might
not concern, that she would never again feel that the
Emperor was safe from danger excepting when he,
166
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Count O'Donnell, was at his side. She also presented
him with a circlet of superb brilliants, containing a lock
of the Emperor's hair, stained with the blood which
Libenyi's dagger had caused to flow, and on the inside
of which was engraved, "Gott vergelte es Dir!" (God
reward you!)
Indeed, she spoke and wrote so continually of her
debt of gratitude to him, that, besides the cross of a
Commander of the Leopold Order conferred upon him
by Francis- Joseph, he received decorations from almost
all the other reigning Sovereigns of Europe, and a manu-
propria letter from the King of Prussia, which has
since become historical.
It would be impossible here to describe the festivities
which marked the marvellous preservation of the Em-
peror throughout Austria, the music, the laughter, the
glitter, the illuminations, the salvoes of artillery, the
wreaths of flowers, and the floating banners decorating
the streets and thoroughfares of gay, light-hearted,
enthusiastic Vienna; or even the laying of the first
stone of that magnificent fane, Heiland's (Votiv-) Kirche,
which was consecrated during the fetes celebrating the
silver wedding of Francis-Joseph and Elizabeth in 1879,
and which raises so proudly its lace -like twin spires,
upon the very spot where the greatest and best Ruler of
Austro- Hungary so nearly came to a tragic end. I re-
gret to state, in conclusion of this incident, that, far from
being grateful for all the demonstrations which were
made on account of his " quasi-assassination " — as he
insisted on laughingly denominating it — Francis-Joseph
ended by losing his temper pretty thoroughly, and by
forbidding the subject to be mentioned again, under
penalty of his most emphatic displeasure.
The whole entourage was, as a matter of fact, convulsed
with laughter, about three months after the murderous
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
attack upon the Emperor, at what befell one of the
Ambassadors accredited to the Court of Vienna, who,
having been absent at the time, believed himself obliged
to present to Francis-Joseph himself at the first oppor-
tunity his effusive congratulations upon "the auspicious
termination of this abominable attempt."
It chanced that the Emperor happened to be engaged
in the innocent pastime of tossing bread-crumbs to the
white peacocks of the Schonbrunn Park when the diplo-
mat in question respectfully approached to tender those
hateful words of felicitation, heard so wearisomely often,
and now, since some weeks, so strictly interdicted.
The young Monarch, who was facing away from the
advancing Excellency, remained unconscious of his
presence until the breaking of a tiny twig made him
start and turn about.
A demi-gala dejeuner had just ended, one of those
splendid affairs which were of amazing heaviness before
the Sovereign — always as frugal as an Arab — turned
his attention to the reform of the Court menus, and the
Ambassador, slightly flushed with good cheer, was in con-
sequence all the more disposed to favor-currying effusion.
"Your Majesty," quoth he, pompously, waving his
plump hands — "Your Majesty has been but lately almost
snatched from our midst by an unprincipled monster!
Would to heaven that such foul individuals were once
and for all eliminated from the world, that a life so irre-
placeable should never again stand in danger!"
"Why distress one's soul with vain wishes?" asked the
Emperor, gazing at the diplomat with speculative eyes,
in which, however, shone an underglow of mischievous
amusement. " Besides, poor Libenyi was hardly a mon-
ster. It was in his nature, no doubt, to make a fool
of himself; he was born so, and had no chance but to
fulfil his destiny."
168
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
The Ambassador frowned incomprehension.
"Your Majesty actually defends him?" — half wonder-
ing, half reproachful.
"Oh, dear, no," disclaimed his Imperial host; "I don't
defend him; I defend nobody. I merely recognize and
accept — the ways of the world, the distinction existing
between the higher and lower strata — between the
snatchers and the — almost snatched! The war is uni-
versal, and the trifling incident Your Excellency so kindly
refers to is but a miniature presentment of what is going
on everywhere in earth and sky."
"Your Majesty!" exclaimed the astounded Ambassa-
dor, pulling a long face, "sees the universe through black
spectacles, I am afraid."
"Not at all," answered the Monarch. "Regicides —
which is using a tall word for a very small offender in
this particular instance — are generally content with
making a horrid disturbance which in their class re-
dounds to their credit; this variety of snatchers knows
the joy of being passionately admired and advocated,
but they are poor devils, after all, who do not always get
the bread-crumbs they covet and would rend from the
— almost snatched, as do, for instance, those royal birds
yonder," and he cast the few remaining morsels to the
anxious peacocks.
The diplomat arched his brows until they almost
touched the fringe of steel-gray hair adorning his high,
bland forehead. Clearly he was offended and sorely
puzzled.
"I dare not presume to follow Your Majesty on the
field of debate, but all the same I trust that Your Majesty
does not seriously excuse the ghastly deeds which have
from time immemorial disfigured the pages of history."
"I hope not," the Emperor said gravely, with the
same twinkle of merriment underlying his seriousness.
169
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
"But the snatcher here below is ubiquitous and eternal,
he is likewise protean, and often changes his visible form.
Sometimes he is an ugly, brown -faced, greasy -haired
Libenyi, sometimes he is a florid and pompous official,
sometimes again a trusted and familiar courtier, and
by no means necessarily a regicide, but he is always
about, ever present and constantly on the snatch about
the throne."
There was so fine and misleading an admixture of
mockery and gravity on the Imperial face that the Am-
bassador felt nonplussed; moreover, he was a Teuton,
and the Teuton conception of sarcasm, irony, or what is
merely a harmless joke, differs by a very wide span from
anybody else's.
"All the same, I would call it uncommonly hard fortune
to be born what Your Majesty calls a snatcher, an ap-
pellation which I crave permission to find somewhat
vague."
"Vague!" cried the Emperor, raising his eyes appeal-
ingly towards the blue sky; " I meant it to be vague, and
by no means otherwise; Your Excellency's rendering of
the word is a complete surrender to my contention. Did
I not say that the snatcher was protean, a snatcher of life,
of honors, of favors, of — Ah! snatchers are indigenous
to the steps of a throne and ineradicable from its vicin-
ity! But what hath all this in common with white
peacocks, flowery corbeilles, and green lawns?" he con-
cluded, dramatically, pointing to the sunny gardens, the
high, bending trees, with the glorious sunlight of the
late afternoon caught in the green -gold network of
their myriad leaves; and seeing the doubtful, almost re-
proachful moiti£ sel, moitit vinaigre expression of the
Ambassador's countenance, he concluded with his ordi-
nary kind smile, from which all trace of mockery had
now disappeared. "Ah! Monsieur V Ambassadeur , you
170
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
have received no better than you deserve; let me im-
press upon Your Excellency once for all that I do not
include you, to whom Imperial favor goes voluntarily
and naturally, in my nomenclature; therefore, let us
hence to see my black swans; we will try them with
some crumbs, too!"
This conversation is still cited as a proof of the Em-
peror's hatred for flattery, even at that time.
CHAPTER VII
WHAT woman living would have seemed to Arch-
duchess Sophia worthy of becoming the wife of her Im-
perial son, a proud position in any one's eyes certain-
ly, but in his mother's — of whom the world said that she
was fond of imagining the universe created solely that it
might have the honor of serving as his pedestal — an ab-
solutely unequalled one ; yet she knew that the time was
now at hand when he really ought to marry. She had a
most ardent desire to see the Habsburg dynasty contin-
ued in the person of a grandson ; but still she was very
clearly aware that his marriage would be to her nothing
short of a torture, which, for a person priding herself on
a quite remarkable consistency, was assuredly curious.
She was too frank with herself not to realize also that
she would hate, positively hate, the most charming of
marriageable Princesses as soon as her name was even so
much as coupled with that of her son Franz, and her
burning sense of proprietorship, her bitter jealousy rose
in arms with increasing violence on each separate occa-
sion when she thought of this dread necessity looming
upon her horizon.
One may also add that any girl destined to become
Archduchess Sophia's daughter-in-law, even did she pos-
sess the beauty of Helen, the wisdom of Minerva, the
fidelity of Penelope, the virtues of St. Martha, and the
genius of St. Cecilia, would need also the dauntlessness
of a Joan of Arc, for her lot could, come what happened,
be no enviable one.
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
The laws of marriage are constructed upon absurd lines,
and that is why the sacrament — Holy Mother Church
very rashly declares it to be a sacrament — heralds as an
almost general rule a lamentable and universal failure.
Connubial bliss is not a thing to be obtained by personal
ingenuity or retained by mere obedience to precept or
to duty. It is the most rare and the most spontaneous
thing on earth, born only of the sympathies of two nat-
ures mutually sympathetic, and can no more be forced
than durable happiness of any sort can be created at
will.
And here I have come to the most difficult part of my
task, for in my first humble literary effort l I have de-
scribed at such length the matrimonial misunderstand-
ings of Francis-Joseph and Elizabeth, and so clearly laid
the blame thereof where blame was due, that to go once
more over that thoroughly beaten track would be, I fear,
unjust to my readers. But I am so continually accused
of not seeing as the world sees, that none will be surprised
when I repeat here that it would have been far, far better
for the "White Rosebud of Possenhofen" had she never
worn the crown placed upon her graceful head by her
Imperial lover, when his passionate admiration for her
exquisite face and form, her youth and her innocence,
transformed, like the wand of Prospero, her simple, pleas-
urable life into the gorgeous, shining magnificence of an
Empress's jewelled existence.
In the mere child, fresh from the dews and fragrant
breezes of her forest home, who cared for flowers and
birds, for horses and dogs, more than for anything else,
this Prince Charming discerned the adorable patrician
beauty of the future and rested not till he made it his
own; but when, bewildered, afraid, and yet unutterably
1 The Martyrdom of an Empress.
'73
happy, she let her little hand fall into his, she gave away
with it, had she but known it, all hope of peace and of
happiness, for few were the days of her joy and wearily
long those of her many sorrows.
Whoever has lived in the intimacy of Empress Eliza-
beth cannot but do full justice to the generosity, the
tenderness, and the ever-solicitous gentleness of her hus-
band, and must, in explanation of his share in the causes
of her sorrows, refer those who do not understand to di-
vergence of character, the exigencies of life on a throne,
and as minor factors his pursuit of new passions; but
be all this as it may, even when the first unreasoning
delight of the honeymoon had become tempered by
time, her love, so pure and so tenacious, her splendid
constancy, would have won the battle had it not been
for that one implacable, dogged opponent, her hus-
band's mother.
The modern girl, it must be confessed, is a little too
ftamberge au vent in her ideas and attitudes, and is, there-
fore, quite unable to understand all that this peerless
bride felt of bewilderment, shyness, and apprehension in
the presence of the sovereign state which had descended
on her with such startling suddenness and splendor. It
is consoling, however, to think that she would be more
fitted than was Elizabeth to cope with the ungovernable
passion for interference of a jealous mother-in-law!
This lady's unconquerable love of authority governed
the young Empress's destiny from the first, for, like
many other women of excessive energy and exclusive
attachments, she could not resign herself to abdicate
even a tithe of her power and dominion over her son,
and her incessant rebukes, reproaches, criticisms, and
expostulations to both husband and wife increased the
evil day by day, which, like a river widening from its
narrow source to a broad estuary, separated more and
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
more widely those two fond, foolish young people whose
skies would otherwise have probably been cloudless.
Each of her mother-in-law's cross words and cutting
hints went to Elizabeth's heart as the stab of a lacerat-
ing knife, and one day, when long after all this was a
thing of the past, and the wilful Archduchess had for
over five years been laid at rest, I ventured to ask the
Empress why she had not resisted her influence more
strenuously and used her otherwise strong will to retain
her own, she replied, sadly:
"Ah, my dear, you do not know what a clever, clever
woman she was, and how deeply she could hurt with a
look or a word of unkind meaning, how unbearable was
her constant suspicion of my every motive or action!
From the moment I married she set herself against me,
which was quite enough, in those days of her unquestion-
ed omnipotence, to condemn irrevocably any one, even
the Empress. Towards her son her honesty of purpose
cannot be questioned, even by me, although her methods
were sometimes curiously misleading and singularly un-
scrupulous too. I know she really believed that I was
an obstacle on his road to absolute pre-eminence, and
that I would take up too much of the time she had de-
creed that he should devote to statecraft. Moreover,
her dislike of me was stronger than her candor or sense
of justice, her prejudices greater even than her ordinarily
very sincere regard for truth. Then, also, she had the
power of swaying him at will in most things, a power
which she exercised with contemptuous indifference to
all my claims and rights, and her wrath was so bitter
at having been momentarily eclipsed in his affections,
that at times I think she was scarcely sane on the
subject. I have tried since her death to do her fuller
justice than I could force myself to do while still she
was my mentor, traducer, and bitterest enemy. She
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
was, I cannot but own, a magnificent woman, in a hard
and superb way — hard in the downward curve of her
well-drawn lips, in the beauty of her large, relentless,
defiant eyes, hard in her skilful, clever management of
everybody, hard in her ambitions and even in her few af-
fections; nay, hard in her whole make-up, with the hard-
ness of rock-crystal, which neither heat nor cold can alter,
and you can believe me when I tell you that no force
on earth could drag her from a position she had once
decided to occupy. One of her first reproaches to me,
and delivered with a contempt I never forgot, was when
she overheard me explain that when yachting I some-
times hung for hours over the side, because I was sure
of some day catching sight of a mermaid under the
waves adorned with pink sea-shells and crowned with
pale-tinted sea anemones! I was but seventeen then,
and yet for years afterwards she continued to taunt
me with what she called my 'apt illustrations of faith,'
and made a point of asking me often, a brule pour point,
when I intended to come down to the realities of actual,
every-day existence and cease to ride the broomstick
of illusion! She was not easy to mollify, I assure you;
even those who found grace before her eyes were never
allowed to know it, and whenever I complained of
anything she used to tell me that my life was all prizes
and no blanks, except now and then the blank of satiety!"
When this was told me I felt all the disgust of a child-
less woman for a mother's implacable jealousy, but now
that I have a tall boy of my own, who in a few short
years will have reached a marriageable age, God forgive
me for saying that, although I do not deny the un-
doubted nobility of renunciation and withdrawal from
the first place in a son's heart at that painful moment, I
feel more in sympathy with Archduchess Sophia, such a
confession being, I suppose, greatly to my shame! This
176
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
does not, however, diminish by the thickness of a silken
thread my passionate sympathy for my Empress, but
still I seriously doubt whether the sense of fair-play
which I pride myself on possessing would be quite
proof against the fear of allowing myself to be pushed
into the background of my son's heart by a girl whose
only merit would, at least at first, be mere beauty and
physical charm.
This, however, not really being a confession, I will
resume my narrative, gliding as swiftly as possible over
the exaggeration and invention of the world's judgment
concerning the gradual estrangement between the Im-
perial couple, who during forty -four years were the tar-
get for all the arrows of slander.
Throughout that long period it was given to but few
to understand Elizabeth's character, ever childlike in its
impulses and simplicity, and so unworldly in its esti-
mates, so altogether above the common level in its lof-
tiness of principle, in its horror of everything sordid,
mean, or unclean, that after all it is, perchance, unfair
to blame the common herd for its inability to compre-
hend it.
That her course of action, blameless as it ever was,
emphasized and darkened her husband's few shortcom-
ings— the shortcomings of a warm heart and a susceptible,
generous nature — was an error on her part which none
but a very proud, very sensitive woman would have
made, but it unfortunately gave color to ill-natured
stories and ground to those conjectures concerning the
domestic happiness of the Imperial couple, which too
often laid the fault at her door.
No one could have suffered more keenly than the
Emperor when he found that she was so unjustly blamed,
that all her generosity, her countless, thoughtful, ten-
der-hearted acts and her extreme nobility of charac-
ia 177
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ter failed to atone in the eyes of his Court and people
for her delicate disdain of all that commonplace glitter
which is covetable to most persons, that she was paying
heavily for her lack of pliability, her indifference to
popularity, and that he himself, by mere carelessness
and too great a subserviency to his mother's counsels,
had assisted in humbling the proud heart of a woman
who, by her glorious beauty, by the potent and subtle
charm of her remarkable intelligence and her unalter-
able love, exercised over him a sway stronger and more
enduring than any other.
Any mother can make her son's life a burden to him
if she will conscientiously set herself to do it, especially
when this son marries against her wishes. The young
husband would be glad to submit to any personal dis-
comfort for the sake of peace in his household, whether
it be cottage or palace, but when in the blessed seclusion
of his family circle he sees the rack and thumbscrew
system of the dear old Inquisition applied in improved
and mental modification to his wife, his situation is a
singularly unenviable one.
There may be des accommodements avec le del, but
there are no accommodements possible with a mother-
in-law determined to do her worst, and perfectly con-
vinced that she is in the right, and this is why Francis-
Joseph never interfered when his lovely wife, unable
to put up any longer with his mother's despotism, would
go away for a time upon those foreign travels or long
sojourns abroad which made everybody assert that she
cared naught for her husband and his Empire, and still
less for her duties.
In all his long life Francis-Joseph has been a man of
unblemished rectitude, who has never given any one the
right to blame or contemn him in matters of the State or
of his family honor, but in the conflict of feelings which
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
agitated him in many of his differences with his wife
and mother, he failed to foresee the innumerable conse-
quences and miseries to his wife that would arise from
his neglect to look deeper beneath the surface of her
easily aroused and umbrageous pride. He did not real-
ize that her heart, in its indignation, its solitude, its gen-
eral need of sympathy, became shy of turning too ob-
viously towards him for consolation.
Such misunderstandings are fatal, and are apt to
haunt one when it is all too late to repair them!
Elizabeth's frequent withdrawals from Court were on
many an occasion engendered by a feeling that her hus-
band cared no longer for her, and that he failed to com-
prehend how she could consider life hard, conventional,
artificial, and at times hateful ; in which she was for once
cruelly mistaken, for he, too, shared these impressions
and feelings many and many a time in those days of
unceasing and fiery conflict between the two beings he
loved best in the world.
There was one scene between Francis-Joseph and Arch-
duchess Sophia on this subject, of which its only witness
spoke to me with bated breath nearly a score of years
later ; for on this single occasion the clash of those two
powerful natures proved formidable beyond all that can
be imagined.
It took place a few years before the Archduchess's
death, when, with advancing age, weariness and dis-
satisfaction were beginning to dull her finer qualities,
and when she more frequently indulged in regrettable
suggestion about her unfounded suspicions concerning
Elizabeth, to her over-wrought son.
Never had he seen his mother so fully aroused and so
reckless in denunciation as she was on that day, and
that merely because the Empress had refused to be
present at the Corpus Christi procession; and yet, never
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
v
had the unfortunate Archduchess loved him more pas-
sionately than at that moment, when she felt in his
whole attitude the severance of many of the tender ties
which had bound him so strongly to her, but she was
pitiless in pursuit of her purpose, quite unchangeable in
her opinions, and, as ever, absolutely unrelenting in her
tyrannical meddlesomeness.
"Is it true!" she exclaimed, angrily, entering unan-
nounced in her son's study, "that you are going to
allow your wife to absent herself from Vienna again,
and that on one of the rare occasions when her presence
is either necessary or desirable?"
Though she was an unusually keen-sighted woman,
it had taken the Archduchess a long time to realize how
entirely his passion for Elizabeth, when it was permitted
to assert itself, swept away and replaced her own influ-
ence, and with every new instance of this, to her, cruelly
painful truth, she tried with renewed vigor to sap her
daughter-in-law's intermittent power, by taunts likely
to arouse the Emperor's dislike of being curbed and
tied down by any but herself.
She knew that he had never been reconciled to the
idea of giving love as a right, also, that the Habs-
burgs in love or in sport were not wont to tamely sub-
mit to be relegated to the background, and by suggest-
ing that Elizabeth led him par le bout du nez, she often
succeeded in making her interviews with him seriously
detrimental to his wife. But on this occasion she had
made a bad beginning, and, controlling with difficulty
the anger her words aroused, Francis- Joseph said, with
strange coldness:
"My wife is not well, and the fatigue of such a func-
tion under the blazing sun would be too much for her!"
"Not well? I see that you are her dupe to-day, as
you have always been; she is no more sick than I am,
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if you only knew it. No woman who can hunt and
swim and walk as she does in all weathers is too delicate
to accomplish so simple a duty as the one now demanded
of her!"
"You talk and act as if you were her bitterest enemy,
my dear mother. You are equally discontented with
her whatever she does or leaves undone. God knows
that I would not willingly say a word to pain you, for
you have to me been an angel of goodness and forbear-
ance, but to my poor little girl you are positively un-
just, if you will pardon me for saying so, and who-
ever hints a word against her hurts me deeply by so
doing!"
"I cannot pretend what I do not feel, and it is im-
possible for those who have your interests at heart to
admire the whimsical wax-doll you have been foolish
enough to marry!" she replied, furiously.
"Look here, mother!" he cried, passionately, "you
are horribly unjust; you are, indeed! you have never
ceased to be pitiless in your dealings with "Lieschen," or
in your efforts to alienate me from her; you speak
against her without mercy; you constantly drag her
down, dishearten her, inform her of my lapses of loyalty
towards herself — you who should be her stanchest
friend and my severest critic on such occasions — since
you know my many failings, for nothing escapes you!"
The Emperor loved his mother tenderly and rever-
entially, but he had long ere this become aware that in
her relations towards her daughter-in-law she had not
displayed her usual wisdom, and that in her prejudiced
interference between himself and his young wife she had
been extremely ill-advised. To himself, nevertheless,
she had, indeed, been a devoted mother, entering into
all his troubles and tribulations since the beginning
of his arduous reign, just as she had when he was a
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boy entered into all his sports and amusements, his
small sorrows and his petty vexations.
A mother who has contrived to be almost always at
her son's side when he came to close quarters with life's
temptations, sins, virtues, pains, and pleasures, and all
its other awful or wonderful realities, cannot be indiffer-
ent to his matrimonial relations; it would be asking
too much. She had trained him in honor and truth,
stimulating his already remarkable energy, instead
of repressing and dwarfing him as so many tender
mothers do, in order to keep their hold longer upon their
dear ones. She had put him to sleep when he was a
baby by telling him stories of chivalric deeds and of
courtly men in hauberk and corselet, in velvet and point-
lace, who all had made their names famous by their
contempt for danger, their heroic daring, their un-
blemished sense of honor, and the consequence of all
this was that always ere this day her words had carried
more weight with him than anybody else's. This new
and entirely unexpected attitude on his part cut her,
therefore, to the very heart, but she was not disposed
to let him see this, and so she merely smiled slightly — a
bitter, contemptuous smile.
She was not bund to the fact that he looked remark-
ably gallant and handsome with his steady, blue eyes
bent grimly upon her, his mouth set as sternly as her own
in his chivalric defence of his absent wife, and this led
her to think what a pity it was that such a man should
be wasted upon a mere pretty, capricious woman, which
was her most lenient verdict against Elizabeth.
"I never expected," she said, icily, "to see you satis-
fied with being chained down in dull, tyrannical domes-
ticity!"
His face grew white with anger and his eyes gleamed,
but she took no notice of these threatening signs, and
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calmly continued: "You married in the mad passion
of an unguarded hour, for the sake of a few weeks' de-
light, for what is vulgarly called 'eye-love' — you who
were born inconstant, as are all the Habsburgs, by-
the-way, and soon the fetters so readily and enthusi-
astically assumed galled you. You went through the
usual period of wrangling and reproaches, you who were
least fitted of all men I ever knew to endure such an
ordeal. You know as well as I do that your early
judgment of your wife was crude, and how quickly the
glamour of your coup de tete faded in the test of constant
intercourse, nor can you deny that you have not found
in her what your heart and mind expected to find!"
Twice he tried to interrupt her, which was entirely
foreign to his ordinary extreme courtesy and reverence
of manner to her, but with a peremptory wave of her
slender hand she silenced him.
" I love you too dearly not to feel utterly wretched at
the shipwreck of your Hie or at the false light in which
it makes you stand. Elizabeth twirls you around her
little finger, makes you do what she likes, and obliges
you to yield to her every caprice, not because you love
her still very greatly, but, on the contrary, because, being
tired of her, you wish to make up in indulgence what you
lack in passion!"
This was a perfidious stroke, a veritable coup de
Jarnac, and the Emperor threw back his head impa-
tiently, like a mettlesome charger about to take the bit
between his teeth, but as before the impassive Arch-
duchess gave him no time for interruption.
"You need not look indignant! The price of marry-
ing a beauty is often very much above that of rubies,
but you did not know that when you threw over the im-
measurably superior elder sister for her big-eyed, white-
skinned, auburn - locked junior. I, however, realized
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how it would be with you, on that night when you
waltzed so madly with Elizabeth, whirling her round
like a baby, whispering in her ear, and crushing the
Maiglockchen of her shoulder bouquet against your breast
in the senseless infatuation which had seized you. From
that moment you threw all prudence to the winds ; you
delivered yourself bound hand and foot into her hands ;
you forgot your future, my warnings, anything, every-
thing, in the momentary delirium, which made you
see life with her ' couleur de rose.' Alas, with such prem-
ises my prophesies were certain to come true, and —
they have! Your wife is exceedingly beautiful, unde-
niably so, but I look in vain for any sterling qualities in
her, for one saving point of unselfishness or obedience
to your wishes or to the exigencies of her high estate!"
She laughed a low, bitter laugh that broke strangely
upon his ear, and very quietly, but with teeth set hard,
he answered:
"Even you, mother, must not speak in that manner
to me. Elizabeth is as worthy of respect and admira-
tion as yourself, and she shall never be mentioned other-
wise before me!"
"Respect! admiration! comme vous y allez! A wom-
an who will accept but the gilded and jewelled side
of her bargain, who shows consideration for nobody,
refuses to accomplish a single one of her duties as Em-
press, as mother, or as wife; really, this is asking rather
too much!"
" Nevertheless, it must be so! I ought to have made
the fact plainer to you sooner, and now I tell you that
I intend to exact in the future for my wife that respect
which, thanks to my fear of hurting your feelings, has
not always been shown to her!"
The Archduchess rose, pale with astonishment.
" Does my life-long devotion to your interests count for
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so little that you dare to speak thus to me, your mother?
Do you choose now to forget all my affection, my un-
wearing exertions, all I have done, for the sake of a
woman of whom, I repeat it, you are heartily tired in
spite of her pretty face and seductive coquetries?"
He gave her a look which made even her feel that for
once she had gone too far.
"I trust that I will never be base enough to forget
what you have done for me, ingratitude not being num-
bered among my vices, but neither will I forget — nor for-
give— what you have just said, nor the harshness, in the
mask of justice, the vexatious authority, and the cruel
animosity you have untiringly displayed against your
innocent daughter-in-law ! And now, permit me to leave
you ; I do not wish to pursue a discussion which can only
inflict humiliation and sorrow upon us both, since for the
first time in my life I am forced to resent what you say
as a dishonor done to myself and to what is dearest to
me!"
He bowed low, and left her, mortified, worsted, impotent
in her rage and disappointment, but obliged to recog-
nize that there had been even less wisdom than usual
in her interference upon this unfortunate occasion.
She sat for a few minutes as one who has been dealt
a heavy blow and is unable as yet to realize it ; then she
descended the stairs, where the moon streamed through
painted windows across the broad, crimson - carpeted
steps and the exquisitely wrought balustrade, towards
her private apartments.
She went slowly, wearily, as if she dragged her dead
ambitions with her; her face was very white, her steps
reluctant, her heart heavy as lead, for she had the
ghastly impression of having said an eternal farewell to
the Franz of other days, and of having destroyed the old
sweet intimacy which had endured so long between them.
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As she reached her room her stern features suddenly
relaxed and softened, and her eyes were filled with un-
speakable yearning. Hereafter there would be, if she
judged rightly, an immense loss, an unfilled void through-
out her remaining life, and tenderness and bitterness
strove together in her soul, for she had in the last hour
cruelly suffered in her passions and in her indomitable
pride. Her son, her own beloved Franz, had judged
and condemned her; his wife, whom she hated, had con-
demned her also; nay, she — even she — had just con-
demned herself. What was there now left to live for?
Deeply perplexed and troubled, she was profoundly
humiliated and unspeakably hurt, yet the fairness which
was in her nature, beneath all the egotism of her iron
self-reliance, at last conquered her terrible sense of
offence, and she realized that she had much with which
to reproach herself.
Poor Archduchess Sophia ! Dreams are for the happy ;
she would no longer indulge in any, and the one she
had dreamed so long was now dead, dead as a drowned
creature lying many fathoms deep at the bottom of the
sea. For a little while her agony was greater than even
she had strength to bear; for this last experience had
been of the kind which strips the heart bare and unveils
the innermost recesses of the soul, and the wound in-
flicted was one which would never close.
The infinite peace of the night seemed to lie like a
benediction on the immense, silent palace, but she knew
that in her bruised, weary heart there was no peace
and never would be more — in that heart where but one
name, her son's, had ever been written; and she wept
bitterly the burning, inconsolable tears of those whom
age has already touched with its blighting wand and
who have but little left to hope for. Once again, never-
theless, she steeled herself, gathered the remnants of her
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pride about her, coldly and hardily, and with a strong
effort of self-control effaced, as she believed, every out-
ward trace of the tempest which had overborne her,
ere she reappeared before the partisans and antagonists
to whom she scorned to betray any emotion. But all
becomes very swiftly known at Court, and her sufferings
would not have been lightened had she been aware that
by night the defeat of Madame Mere was discussed in
whispers all over the Hofburg.
How long ago all this took place, and yet how present
still to the minds of those who witnessed the eighteen-
year-long struggle between the mother and the wife of
Francis-Joseph, in those days when the phrase, Vox
Sophies vox Dei, was a familiar saying at Vienna!
Are they now reconciled, those rivals, both so dif-
ferently beautiful and gifted — the one, untiring in her
devotion, and the other, unfaltering in her love — the
imperious mistress of statecraft, who scarcely deigned
to conceal her power behind the throne, and the noble
woman who sat upon it, her sweet head bowed beneath
the weight of her crown?
Their place knows them no more; they are gone like
the snows of past winters that have drifted silently
upon the cloister roofs beneath which, closed in darkness,
they lie together. "Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?"
Tell me, sprites of a twilight name,
Dwelling under what sky of gold
Is Archippa of antique fame,
Flora, Thais, of lovely mould?
Over the evening waters cold,
Echo, bowered in fern and rose,
Laugheth low to the question old,
"Ah! and where are the winter snows?"
Where is H61oise — scorning blame
All for love of the wise and bold,
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All for Ab61ard, sunk in shame,
Shut in Saint Denys' cloistered fold?
Where the queen at whose mandate rolled
Seine o'er Buridan's head? There blows
Far faint answer across the wold,
"Ah! and where are the winter snows?"
Lissome Blanchefleur, the siren dame,
Alys of Le Mans' warrior hold,
Jeanne — alas! to the English flame
Doomed at Rouen, betrayed and sold,
Berthe an grand pied of whom is told
Oft the story in rhyme and prose,
Where is their beauty enshrined and scrolled?
"Ah! and where are the winter snows?"
Live thy day that the Fates have doled
Lady, lest when the question goes
Where thou art, be the answer trolled,
"Ah! and where are the winter snows?"
M. M.
CHAPTER VIII
APRIL agth, 1859! Yet another of those dates which
should be marked in darkest hue on Emperor Francis-
Joseph's life-calendar, for again a great tumult sounded
throughout his Italian provinces, and was borne nearer
and nearer to the Austrian border, like the roar of a sul-
lenly surging sea, sending its muffled but ominous echoes
to far-away Vienna.
Lombardy and Venetia were athirst for freedom, and
the tramp of the Austrian army of occupation, ringing
upon the pavements of their cities, had become unen-
durable to the sons of those sun-girt lands.
Victor-Emmanuel of Sardinia, who, more prudent than
his father had been in 1849, now allied himself with that
king of adventurers, Napoleon III., took the field —
paradoxical as it sounds — as the defender of the Re-
publican party, and their combined forces of one hundred
and eighty thousand men came down to confront Aus-
tria's army, which consisted at the outset of the cam-
paign of not more than one hundred and ten thousand !
Again the flowery plains, the soft, green meadows of
Lombardy, the deep vine shadows and the sweet moun-
tain stillness of Tuscany, flecked with the royally blue
irises of Dante — those irises blossoming in such extrava-
gant profusion in the maize crops and on the olive slopes
alike — again the pearl -hued lagoons of dreamy Venice,
the poplar and acacia-shadowed Brenta, the golden mil-
let fields, and narcissus-scented pastures of the Veneto
were convulsed by the old war-cry, " Vivd la libertd!"
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and the zest for slaughter which had burned so fiercely
ten years before broke out with renewed vigor in the
Austrian as well as the Italian ranks.
When Francis-Joseph received the news of the defeat
at Magenta, a terrible bitterness and a wellnigh unen-
durable pain overcame him. Hardly could he believe
his senses and realize the extent of this misfortune.
His wife, his mother, his whole family and entourage
were amazed and terrified by the unnatural calm and
the set, repressed anguish which made him look as if he
had suddenly been changed into stone.
This shame, netting him tight, was the cruellest suffer-
ing he had as yet undergone ; even when he had seen the
small, waxen face of his first-born, Archduchess Sophia's
tiny namesake, pillowed in the snowy roses of her little
coffin, his pain had not been so great.
He was silent, because had he spoken all the courage,
all the self-control that pride and high-breeding sus-
tained in him, would have been utterly shattered.
Another moment given to pull himself together, and
the chivalrous pride, the resourceful endurance, the
knightly instinct that were in him flashed into fire and
leaped into action, and all he felt, all he thought, was
to fly to the rescue, and to lose his life like the soldier
and the noble gentleman he was, rather than that in
his absence his armies should be vanquished.
The Habsburg blood, that never took well to defeat,
was aroused now, and the prospect of fighting thrilled
through him with glad energy, and without another in-
stant's pause or backward look he determined to take
over in person the command of his troops.
Yet his eyes fell sadly upon his young wife, whose
auburn head nestled upon his shoulder, the fragrance
of whose lips breathed so near his own, and who at that
minute would have joyfully given all her Imperial state,
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her jnatchless jewels, her countless privileges; ah! yes,
would even readily have shorn off the marvellous tresses
of which she was so proud, to keep him with her a few
weeks, a few days longer.
His voice was low, his smile very gentle, as he tried
to comfort her; his hand held hers in a tender clasp,
and she could feel his heart beat loud and quick against
her own as his lips touched her brow, where she stood
within the circle of his arms, a nervous shudder running
through her frame, heavy tears stealing down one by
one, and falling like dew-drops upon the cluster of vio-
lets at her breast.
Archduchess Sophia, although bitterly hurt as usual,
when not considered first, stood beside them without
a trace of her customary stern rebuke of manner, and
on noticing this the Emperor's face lightened with a
pleasure and a relief that changed it wonderfully, his
blue eyes darkening and gleaming strangely as a swift
hope came to him of sweetness and peace, during an
absence which might last perhaps forever, reigning be-
tween the two beings dearest to him on earth, and
replacing the bitter strife or the icy coldness which al-
ternated between them since five long years.
Our natures are oddly constructed and oddly incon-
sistent. Archduchess Sophia hated her daughter-in-
law, yet it gave her many a bitter pang that she should
not have turned to her for comfort when the man whom
they both loved so exclusively and passionately had
left them alone together, but her social philosophy —
if philosophy it was — and her unimpaired imperiousness
allowed no sign of this curious feeling to escape her,
even when sleeplessness, anxiety, misery, and the despair
of such a separation had made Elizabeth look like a
lovely little white ghost, and when even she, "Sophia
the Pitiless," pitied her from her very heart.
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Francis-Joseph went straight to Verona. A sorry,
desolate city during the warring days that followed, and
which in that hot June seemed drowned in white dust,
and very dreary, with its lofty, empty houses, its crum-
bling palazzios, its frightened inhabitants, skulking away
in terror at the sight of every "white-coat."
Little, however, did the Emperor notice the dusty
wretchedness of Juliet's birth-place, the pitiable ravages
wrought by time, neglect, and plunder, nor its dreary,
dirty, dismal comfortlessness, for his destiny was rush-
ing him headlong into a far deeper and more inpene-
trable gloom than that which obscured those sombre,
narrow streets and piazzettas, lined with rows of stunted,
sickly trees, crippled by the simoom-like, scorching wind
which blows almost constantly from the mountains.
Heaven forefend that I should attempt to write a
description of that fateful battle, over whic*h the colors
of France, Italy, and Austria waved, where Francis-
Joseph, Victor-Emmanuel, and Napoleon 1 1 1., surrounded
by the flower of their armies, fought with such deadly
results that the carnage of that day is still alluded to
with awe, and during which the combatants grappled
with such ferocity in hand-to-hand struggle that even
in the embrace of death the bleeding, exhausted, quiver-
ing men rolled over each other in such an inextricable
tangle and confusion that they had to be buried as
they fell, still clutching one another's throats.
Those who fought then and survived never quite got
out of their ears the thunder, the turmoil, the deafening
roar — shaking the very earth with its dreadful echoes —
that they heard that day, nor out of their eyes the look of
the battle-field of Solferino, packed so closely with dead
and dying that the blood-soaked ground, crimson and
noisome, was scarcely visible, the wounded, in horrible
companionship with the torn and scorched corpses of
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
those killed by the near explosion of shells, writhing in
torture and shrieking wildly for a help that never came
to them !
Scenes, indeed, to make the strongest man, the bravest
soldier, reel and stagger with disgust and pity amid the
hiss and crash and shock of this sanguinary struggle of
more than three hundred thousand men!
A devil rose in me every time I heard about it ! alas, in
my but poorly tamed nature it still rises when I remem-
ber what my father, who was present, told one day to a
friend of the heroic fight of Solferino, little guessing that
crouching behind a curtain I was listening to what nat-
urally I but barely understood then, yet heard, with my
little teeth clenched and my baby heart beating hard
against my ribs at these horrors which had taken place
three years before ever I was born!
What a sight it must have been on the morning of that
decisive day, when the rising sun glittered on a forest of
lances, sabres, and bayonets, and turned the gay accou-
trements of the cavalry into a glorious mass of color;
when the silvery sound of trumpets rang merrily through
the clear air!
What a night, when a pitiless, drenching downpour of
ink-black, smoke-tainted rain soaked through those poor,
mutilated wretches, heaped up, with twisted limbs and
distorted faces, like the carcasses of sheep in a slaughter-
house, under the added misery of that furious storm,
which followed shot and fire with such awful sudden-
ness!
The story of that battle has been oft and well told, and
none, neither the Italians, the French, nor even the Gari-
baldians — a race apart, since bloodthirstiness and love of
eternal strife and of anarchy have caused them to take a
hand in nearly every conflict in which they have been
allowed to mingle — have denied the fact that among
13 193
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
those splendid fighters of many different nationalities
none displayed greater courage and sang-froid than the
young Emperor and generalissimo of the Austrian
phalanxes.
Fear was always to him unknown, but on that day his
courage can be called by no milder name than heroism,
and the rashness with which he exposed his life filled
all who were at his side with a sort of awe, for to escape
without a scratch from such perils, he must, indeed, have
borne a charmed life.
But why dwell on the boundless calamity by which
Francis-Joseph was overtaken! One could write and
write and write, and yet not convey any adequate idea of
the hot, angered sense of adverse fate which filled his
soul throughout that disastrous campaign, and especially
of the hours of agony he spent at Solferino, watching
with dry, strained eyes, like one numbed and stupefied,
the annihilation of his regiments, vainly searching the
horizon with his field-glasses to the east and west, the
north and the south, for something in sight that could
give him aid or hope.
Idle it is, indeed, to dwell upon so great a grief, so
deep a humiliation, or to attempt a lengthy mention of
the despair which finally made him eager to die because
wellnigh all else but life itself was lost to him, and im-
pelled him to walk his charger slowly to the front of
battle under so merciless a hail of fire and shot that all
those about him were falling in swarms. Yes, walk,
quite calmly and determinedly, checking at last his
fretting, terrorized horse with one brutal twist of his
iron wrist, to stand gazing blindly before him, like a
man lost in the darkness, too sick at heart, too weary,
too filled with horrible agony, to ask aught but death
from the cruelly chastising hand of fate, and yet half
doubting whether this misery, this burning, degrading
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
humiliation were not, after all, perchance, the mere
visions of a waking nightmare.
How the hours that followed this mad attempt to be
killed, and thus redeem the shame of his defeat, were
spent, Francis-Joseph could never recall in full. Vague
memories remained with him of being forced away from
his untenable position, of seeking, by dint of bodily fa-
tigue; to kill at least the torturing thoughts rising in
him, of watching the lurid light of the setting sun as he
had done eleven years before at Santa Lucia, but with an
infinite sense of irreparable loss, of endless calamity upon
him, which had assuredly not pressed upon his soul in
those by-gone days of youthful enthusiasm and triumph,
and of ever and anon being roused to the consciousness
of the weight of shame which had just rolled in upon
him like the towering waves of some furious sea that
sweeps all before it.
Fortunately there are, in the list of the world's infinite
sorrows, but few such as that which weighed upon Em-
peror Francis - Joseph on the night that followed the
great battle.
The unfortunate Sovereign thought then that no great-
er ordeal could have been laid upon him, but, though he
staggered under it, yet when the Italian provinces were
forever lost to the Empire, when the blood-tinted smoke
of Solferino lifted from his horizon, he still stood erect
with his old dauntlessness ; his spirit unbroken, his forti-
tude reconquered ; and his youth — he was only twenty-
nine — which made him feel the stroke so keenly, gave
him also strength for that greater blow when, in 1866,
the Prussians added Koniggratz to the already then so
lengthy list of his sorrows. Then, indeed, his heart
almost broke in this supreme and paralyzing horror,
and quivering in the helplessness and anguish which
even his noble nature could not vanquish, his unwaver-
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ing heroism conquer, he came nigh to draining his cup
of bitterness to the dregs, and in a few hours lived a
martyrdom which crushed and maimed his very soul.
Among his most trying experiences, in connection with
the Six Weeks' War, was the reception at Vienna of those
German Sovereigns who, in consequence of their hav-
ing espoused his cause against the Prussians, had been
driven from their dominions, and in several cases de-
prived of their thrones. Each one of them was wel-
comed at the railroad-station on their arrival with all
sovereign honors — the blind King of Hanover, who had
fought with such heroism at the Battle of Langenzalza,
and his son, the Crown-Prince, now so well known and
liked throughout Austria as the Duke of Cumberland,
the aged King of Saxony, the surly and cantankerous
Elector of Hesse, and the Duke of Nassau, who, after a
quarter of a century spent in delightful exile at Vienna,
was to recover, not the throne that he had lost, but an-
other, namely, that of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg.
The Emperor, realizing as he did that they had risked
their crowns for the sake of their friendship to Austria
and the House of Habsburg, felt that each of these drives
to receive them to and from the railroad-station was a
painful pilgrimage indeed.
Not yet, however, had he reached the summit of his
Calvary. All was not said and done, nor had the sword
that was to doubly pierce the very roots of his being as
yet fallen, had he only known it ; but God, in His mercy,
has hidden the future for us, else few would care to go on
living.
Under the green leafage of Schonbrunn, harmonious
with the melody of innumerable song-birds — amid the
cool, fountain-splashed parterres and velvety lawns, so
sweet and full of peace and fragrance, so entrancingly
beautiful after the scorched, blood-stained Italian plains,
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
where so many of Austria's sons had found a heroic
death — the dazzling creature who was his wife gave a
deep-drawn sigh of joy when once she had him back,
when his arms were about her again, and her head rested
on his breast.
The keenest pain can be lulled to sleep by a great
love ; and in the intoxication of finding her more tender
than she had ever been before, in the second honeymoon
which followed his return, he found a momentary forget -
fulness of the memories which haunted him, and was
almost happy again — almost, I say it advisedly, for he
never could wholly cast aside the sickening sense of all
the slaughter of life and pride he had witnessed and
sustained at Solferino.
Light and coloring, the transparent shadows of leafy
depths, the fragrance of countless blossoms, the spark-
ling spray of jets d'eau were a fitting frame for this short
renouveau of mutual love and understanding, a becom-
ing background for the lovely face and form of his
Elizabeth, looking now so proudly at him out of her
great, deep eyes; but the rose-garlanded terraces of
Schonbrunn were not secluded enough in their opinion,
and so they withdrew to the solitude of Laxenburg and
fell to watching the silvery rays of the moon lighting the
foliage, the rolling charmilles, the glancing lily-studded
waters of the lake, or lost themselves amid the shadowy
green of the fair summer landscape, enjoying, for once,
in all its fulness and quite unhindered, that love which
comes but rarely to ennoble, soften, and endear life.
He was wholly her own now; and when he looked upon
the extraordinary fairness of her face he felt that she
was the one woman he had loved or would ever really
love with that passion which is of the mind and heart
as well as of the senses, that she shared his life as no
other would ever share it, that the world held no sweeter
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music than her voice, and that his pride was wholly
centred in her matchless beauty and goodness, in her
sovereign grace and charm ; for during those short weeks
of absolute bliss there seemed to radiate about this ex-
quisite woman and this man, bruised and stunned by
an almost insupportable blow, an effulgence, pure, cloud-
less, glorified, God-sent, and which neither of them ever
forgot.
Neither of them thought now of the patrician, seduc-
tive, dusky-eyed blonde who, according to the chronique
scandaleuse of the Court, had been more or less favored
now and again, until the dark shadow of war had rele-
gated to oblivion both the cause and the effect of this
gossip.
The persevering lady, persevering in her purpose as
in her unimpaired charms, still enjoyed posing as the
wife and victim of a Caliban, but she had given up be-
ing quite as over-careful about violating conventionali-
ties as when she was still little more than a bride, and
she had become very "rapid" indeed, in a quaint,
languid, poetic, inimitable manner, which was exces-
sively attractive to the strong sex. She could with jus-
tice pique herself on her skill, and there was a cham-
pagne draught of mirth and mischief in her coquetries,
a half -reckless, half-scientific chic about her which few
could resist.
This charmeuse par excellence still held her place secure-
ly, nevertheless, in the highest rank of the most fastidi-
ous and exclusive Court of Europe. To be distinguish-
ed by her was still an honor; and the chains she cast
about men were made of roses; but, for all that, her clev-
erly tinted presentation of a femme incomprise chimed
less harmoniously with the rest of her now more dash-
ing methods, which was a pity, for the premiere maniere
had been far better suited to her style.
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But, for all that, the cruel stroke of doubt and of jeal-
ousy had not struck the less near home, and gentle though
Empress Elizabeth's nature was, beyond all forgive-
ness was the little triumphant smile with which her
wicked rival had tantalized her for so long wherever
they chanced to meet — a smile which galled her more
than any knowledge of the fancied or real flirtations in
other directions so ruthlessly reported to her, for this
woman had been, she knew, her Franz's first infatua-
tion, and in this she saw a particular danger to her-
self.
The halcyon days after his return from the war were
all the more precious to the young wife because she so
greatly feared that a season, a month, a few hours, might
be the only respite of a full quietude left her, the only
pause between perfect bliss and the fiat of desolation,
of anxious, restless misery she already knew so well;
for Elizabeth, in the midst of all that was highest, fairest,
greatest, and most bewitching, surrounded by the in-
cessant whirlpool of pleasure and splendor of her
husband's brilliant Court, felt utterly alone, utterly
wretched, utterly beggared and downcast, when these
doubts and jealousies, which stung her like scourges, as-
sailed her.
Walking with him in the park at Laxenburg — that
fairy castle which mirrors its ivy -hung facade, its
peaked turrets, its stone balustrades covered with
the broad, lustrous leaves of creepers and the profuse
blossoms of twining roses, in the smooth waters of its
encircling lake — her irresistible loveliness sweeping over
him like the intoxication of some penetrating fragrance,
feeling without the chance of a doubt that she had
drawn him at last completely within the charmed circle
of her power, she was so absurdly happy that she in-
voluntarily thought of Friar Laurence's prophetic
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" These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume!" —
and this often caused her eyes to rest upon him with a
mournful tenderness she could not conceal, nor he, alas,
fail to understand.
The stamp of their bitter fate was still upon them in
a sort of hazy fashion, for the wounds they had both re-
ceived were too recent to be entirely closed — healed they
never were quite, as I have already said. To him the mem-
ory of his defeat, of all the gall ant -hearted men who
had gone out so cheerily to their death, and whose
bodies had fallen so thickly among the crushed lav-
ender bushes and uprooted olive plantations of Solfe-
rino, was far too fresh not to still make him wince, while
to her the thought of Archduchess Sophia's sweeping con-
tempt was like a menace looming over her future; and
yet — and yet — those sweet hours of reprieve were an
ever-renewed delight, which nothing could really spoil
or overshadow.
One night they had stepped out upon the terrace to
watch the soft ripple of the moon on the water, the
scintillating of the stars repeated in diamond-like sparks
between the pale-green spots of the floating lily-pads.
There was no sound save the soft, sweet gush of the
nightingale's songs close by, in a mass of foliage span-
gled with bloom, and the gentle breath of a faint
breeze ruffling the great, dark draperies of ivy behind
them.
Such an hour is rare in any life; in theirs it was al-
most unique.
All the Emperor's reawakened passion stirred at the
sight of the delicate, smiling face of his young wife, now
quite her own radiant self again, and who, when she
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lifted her lustrous eyes to his, betrayed so naively her
joy and her love that his heart grew heavy with con-
scious remorse.
Perchance, he thought of that moment when, with
unconquerable emotion, he had slipped over her slender
finger the golden badge of woman's servitude as she
knelt by his side at the altar, her retinue of Royal and
Imperial bridesmaids behind her ; of the exquisite young
face and form seen to full advantage for the first time
through showers of priceless bridal lace ; of the trusting,
almost pathetic adoration of her glance as she shyly
peeped at him through her filmy veils, and of the fond,
proud, whispered words of tender encouragement he had
murmured to her as they had passed out of the dazzlingly
illuminated, flower-filled Court Chapel, between the bow-
ing rows of their courtiers — joined together for life, "for
better or worse," whatever ill, whatever joy might
come, with no possibility to ever unsolder the chains
forged by Holy Mother Church.
"For better, for worse!" Poor little girl — great Em-
press though she was — had it not been already too often
"for worse "!
He bent over her with the deepest tenderness she had
ever awakened in him.
"Elsie!"
It was only one short word, but it was also the name
he used rarely when they were quite, quite alone, in mo-
ments of absolute abandon.
She started slightly, and clung to him, while he threw
his arms about her and drew her very close, pressing
his lips passionately to hers.
"My little Elsie! my sweetheart! my own, precious
darling!" he murmured. "I have not always been as
kind to you as you deserve ; but it was not from lack of
love. Will you believe that, at least?"
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"Hush! hush!" she whispered, with a fleeting up-
ward glance into his eyes, where tears had risen, and
then a swift, almost frightened droop of her graceful
head upon his heart.
She was too deeply moved, too shy of this renewed joy
to speak, and for many minutes she could not even tell
him that all her trust and confidence had been resur-
rected by what he had just said.
At last, he spoke again.
"You cannot realize all I have suffered, all my temp-
tations, all my struggles. I am not trying to excuse
myself, my dearest one! I know too well how wrong I
have been; but I wish to throw from my conscience a
heavy burden, heavier far since your merciful forget-
fulness of your wrongs, your noble generosity in not
once alluding to them in our present solitude. My own
love ! what words can tell you all you have always been
and will always be to me, nor how I missed you and
thought of you constantly throughout this long, heart-
breaking campaign! I must have been mad at Solferino.
I longed to fall in the field, but not a bullet would hit
me. Austria beaten ! I did not know how to endure it.
I remember that when I rallied my poor soldiers at the
last, the remainder of those brave men whom death alone
had vanquished, I cried: 'Vorwarts, Thr Braven, auch ich
habe Weib und Kind zu verlieren!' and the thought
of you and of our little ones gave me a sudden renewal
of strength and of hope, just as my words urged nay
troops on to such acts of valor that MacMahon is reported
to have said afterwards: 'Encore une victoire comme
celle-la et nous rentrerons en France sans armee.' I
prayed for death after that, Elsie; I prayed for death,
prayed as I never prayed for anything else in my
life; and yet I am no coward. But there are sights
and thoughts that may well turn men insane, and which
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are only lived through at the cost of every quivering
nerve and fibre of one's being!"
She shuddered. What comfort had she to give him
for such recollections? She could only cling to him
tighter, and vow that henceforth she would try to make
his life happy again.
It was then that Elizabeth really first learned the
depths of tenderness, gentleness, and affection of her
husband's nature, and all he whispered to her on that
blissful night was a dearer remembrance than aught else
in the bitter years that followed.
They stayed long in love's delicious solitude, under
the clear, twinkling stars, and she was so happy, lean-
ing, in her snowy draperies, against her tall, stalwart, re-
conquered lover, that she thanked God aloud for this
new delight which had come into her life, tears of pure
rapture wetting her long lashes; and that when nearly
twenty years later she told me of the pathetic little
scene I have just tried to describe, her voice trembled
and her glorious eyes filled at the mere memory of it.
When they re-entered the castle that night there was
such gladness in her face, so fond a smile on her lips,
and so exquisite a flush upon her velvety cheeks that
he told her he had never seen anything so beautiful as
she. And he was a connoisseur!
And what do you think that she, in her extraordinary
humility, had replied to his confession, to his bitter self-
reproaches, to his passionate admiration of her pure
stainlessness and goodness?
" Oh! I have so little merit. An Empress is so fenced
in and guarded that she can do no wrong, at least no
serious wrong, even if she wished it, and I never did!
While a man, especially when he is a high and mighty
and handsome Sovereign like my Franz, is assailed on
all sides by temptations. It is the women who are to
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blame, the wicked temptresses!" and she clenched her
little, pearly teeth fiercely as she thought of all those
Circes pursuing him with their wiles and allurements!
This portion of their conversation was told me by him.
They liked, those two, to talk of their few happy mem-
ories to a real sympathizer.
So easily does a loving woman forget her past sorrows
in present joys, that the bitterness so long felt by Eliza-
beth was entirely dissipated in the beauty of this new
existence, and she could, from her heart, say what few
can boast of — namely, that life at least had given her
a brief period of wellnigh cloudless joy.
This short Imperial holiday passed away only too quick-
ly for the young couple, bright from the minute when
the sun peeped rosily through the gauzy mists of dawn,
until the evening star had sunk to rest behind the dew-
laden trees of the Imperial Park.
"You will love me always like this now — promise?"
whispered Elizabeth on their last evening at Laxen-
burg. "Never less tenderly, never less faithfully?"
She paused with a little sob of fear and joy. He
clasped his arms about her tightly, passionately, mur-
muring fond promises in her tiny ear, for just then he
loved her with a tenderness intensified by the poetical
and absolute solitude which for the first time in their
married life had completely sorrounded them, by the
sweet hours spent in perfect union, and by her own un-
expected gentleness and generous restraint from either
taunt or reproach.
Long did he hold her in his arms as if no earthly power
could rend her from him, and, clinging closely to him, she
looked up in his eyes, with all her faith and her con-
fidence restored, and with not a trace of past shadows
upon her sweet, tender face.
It was piteous, I have been told, when once more all
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joy had been crushed out of her life, all hope and trust-
fulness destroyed, to see her awake from this fair dream,
awake to the utter barrenness of her desolate future — a
piteous sight, indeed, I readily believe! Young, pure,
devoted as she was, and wronged in her fondest trust, as
she thought and believed that she had been, she suffered
as few have done.
Her wild bursts of sorrow, the agony of her terrible
fits of despair, her subsequent dull, mute, hopeless
anguish, her health stricken and broken down, the fears
at one time entertained for her reason and even her
life, her flight to Madeira, induced by the whirl of
thoughts and feelings, doubts and fears, which made her
touch the very bitterness of death — I have set all this
down in The Martyrdom of an Empress, much to the dis-
pleasure of those who would have considered it more
fitting, in every respect, and more convenient also for
them, to let sleeping facts lie — in more senses than one —
so that they still could cast all the blame of what seemed
at times difficult to explain in her conduct upon her own
shoulders, even after death had parted her alike from
friends and foes.
But what matters it all now ? — excepting in so far as
the object of this present work is concerned, which is
to turn the other side of the medal towards the public
in justice to the so grievously bereaved husband, and to
his mother as well. The whole blame, the whole and
entire responsibility of the Empress's martyrdom, the
unending misery of one of the fairest and proudest lives
which ever left the hand of Almighty God, should not
fall on those two alone, for there were others who should,
in fairness and justice, be added to the list of her unhappy
fate's artificers — others who played the part of lying in-
formers, and who urged on Archduchess Sophia's preju-
dice by pure inventions about her unfortunate daughter-
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in-law, hoping thereby to curry favor — who poured out
drop by drop, cleverly, shrewdly, and scientifically, the
poison which worked, and worked in its iniquitous po-
tency, and bit like the strongest acid into Elizabeth's
heart, while she could only wait inactive, hoping that
justice might some day be done to her — a mercy which
was, however, refused.
Also she suffered many other torments besides those
created by injustice and jealousy: the agony of be-
reaved motherhood, and the cruel pain before that
last and supreme sorrow befell her, of seeing her
only and beloved son's life wrecked by the bitter dis-
appointments and disillusions his marriage brought
him.
Elizabeth was sensitive to an extraordinary degree,
and the hostile attitude of wellnigh every member of her
Court and entourage threw her from cold surprise to
nervous apprehension, which made her own manner, by
no means always cordial, like that, indeed, of a person
standing off, shut in, withheld.
There is a fallacy to the effect that the tongue is
woman's weapon, even as the fist is man's. Experienced
and sagacious people can, however, tell quite another
tale — that men are quite as ready as women to employ
the one first mentioned, the feminine one, which is
by far the deadlier of the two, for it breaks hearts
instead of bones, and can be used with incredible
savagery. Both sexes are alike in this, and there is
small choice between them. Any one who lived in Vi-
enna during the life of the Empress, even as a visi-
tor from foreign parts, is familiar with the disgraceful
stories circulated about her, and with the yet more in-
iquitous reasons alleged for her so-called coldness to her
husband, retailed by high and low in twenty different
octaves. Had these wiseacres been granted the power
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of analyzing Elizabeth's true character, they would have
found out the reason of this alleged coldness.
She never, never, never could understand that her
husband's nature, alive and vigorous, rebelled against
the laws of marriage, the constant fetters binding this
often sorely tempted, singularly attractive man to one
love and one fealty, nor that he was made for passions
which her delicate pride, dainty chilliness, and exces-
sive refinement could not even apprehend ; and that his
very manliness clamored for rights and for a freedom
which women of her stamp never dream of. She was so
constant herself that to her it was incomprehensible
that when she did not stand beside him, her soft little
fingers holding his, the charm and seduction of her
presence permeating the very air he breathed, she lost
all power to hold him to his bonds; and that it was
when thus unguarded by her immediate influence that
he may perchance have occasionally strayed from the
narrow and difficult path of absolute fidelity.
This and this alone after the death of Archduchess
Sophia was the reason of her intermittent fits of cold-
ness, of her absences (which, as he had formerly allowed,
he could not afterwards well forbid), of their piteous
misunderstandings — misunderstandings complete, fre-
quent, and at times cruel.
This was what caused all the pain and the trouble
between two admirable human beings formed for each
other's joy, whose hearts and souls God had joined to-
gether, before man or woman had taken a hand in the
matter, and in the usual meddling, pharisaical way had
spoiled their lives.
And yet, I shall maintain it to the end, that she and
she alone had the power to strike far down into his heart,
and to stir it to its very depths, for his love for her was
not the "love" which most men consider a mere amuse-
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ment, like gambling or drinking, pour passer le temps,
but a noble, generous, high-souled tenderness of su-
premely lofty essence, lavishing upon her a fondness of
unequalled and unutterable value. Unfortunately, she
wanted more than that; not more than she herself gave,
however, for he was all the world to her, but more than
he could give, since it was unwearied, unceasing, eternal,
and utter constancy which she demanded.
Elizabeth was the pearl of women, the cleverest, the
loveliest; and because she committed the one error of
measuring others by her own standard she antagonized
many who could no more comprehend or appreciate her
than a blind worm can feel the colors of the rainbow.
It is discouraging even to try and explain her out as I
am doing now, because it is so impossible a task; the
only things worth writing about her are inexpressible,
the only things that can be written and made clear seem
so obvious and worthless, a very crackling of thorns in
the fire. To what end, then, shall I make further speech,
on that subject, save to give myself an aching heart?
She and her humble chronicler are companions in mis-
ery no longer. Our losses subserve another's gain, and
she has now gained her reward of justice and peace.
I have never been able to understand why the fangs
of calumny have fastened themselves with such extraor-
dinary and uncalled-for tenacity on the House of Habs-
burg, not a single member of which has been spared by
the venomous tongues and equally venomous pens of
people "who knew not what they said," and who were
not even turned from their nefarious course by the ter-
rible misfortunes so nobly and courageously borne by
both the late Empress Elizabeth and by her husband.
Ever since the foul assassination of that peerless
woman, the wearisome hurdy-gurdy of sensationalism has
been grinding out new tunes, evoked from old themes,
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and now taking for their Leit-motif a man whom grand-
eur of character and loftiness of purpose should have
safe-guarded against such unfounded and base attacks,
and a woman whom an unhappy life and a miserable
death might also have shielded, if her beauty, goodness,
and purity were not sufficient to insure her immunity,
from wilful misconstruction and post-mortem scandals.
The fact that the Emperor is a man, made of flesh
and blood, as well as a great Monarch, and therefore
possessed of the feelings and qualities as well as of a few
of the failings and frailties inherent in human nature,
constitutes no excuse for misconstruing every one of his
actions.
Among other singularly unjust charges laid at his
door was that of having elevated to the r61e of a Madame
de Pompadour that popular favorite of the Viennese
public, Katharina Schratt, the celebrated actress of the
Imperial Burg-Theatre.
All one can say of this accusation is that it is perhaps
one of the least founded and one of the most ridiculous
of the many with which Francis-Joseph has been over-
whelmed.
A few words of explanation, moreover, are all that
is needed to prove this beyond the possibility of a doubt.
Born in the delightfully picturesque little town of
Baden, near Vienna, Katharina Schratt, from early child-
hood, gave promise, not only of becoming a beautiful
and very charming woman, but also a great artist. Nor
were these promises vain, for shortly after leaving the
Conservatoire, her appearance at the Viennese Stadt-
Theatre created a sensation, and her attractive face and
form, as well as her naive, sympathetic, and totally un-
affected diction, placed her from the beginning on a par
with the most famous ingenues.
All hearts went spontaneously out to her, and her
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successes as an actress were wellnigh without number.
Strange to say, her reputation remained absolutely un-
sullied. Of admirers she had many, but in her own
merry, witty, delicate way she compassed the difficult
task of keeping them at a distance, while still retaining
them as devoted friends.
This was all the more meritorious, as her salary was at
first naturally not excessive and her expenses very large ;
but this bizarre young woman refused all possible offers
of "friendly" loans with so much decision that a singular
halo of purity enhanced her manifold charms, and that
she was nicknamed by clubmen "the Snow Flower."
Her debts, however, accumulated; and when, in 1883,
Adolph Wilbrandt engaged her for the Imperial Burg-
Theatre, although she was the acknowledged queen of
the Viennese Lustspiel, her financial affairs were at a
singularly low ebb.
The touching charm and personal magnetism of
"Katti" made it easy for her to leap, at one bound
almost, to the heights of tragedy, and her Queen Eliza-
beth in "Don Carlos " was a magnificent creation, while
in the famous piece "Stahl und Stein" she displayed
the eloquence of genius, and carried all before her.
I purposely mention all this, not by any means in
order to glorify Katharina Schratt, but because it seems
best under the circumstances to give a short sketch of
the true "Katti," since outside of Austria she has been
hitherto not only misunderstood, but her true position
with regard to the Emperor misrepresented and revolting-
ly distorted by false interpretations and falser stories.
And now I come to the actual character of her — I con-
fess, somewhat surprising — intimacy with the Imperial
Family.
Although, of course, not hoffahig, and therefore inca-
pacitated from being officially presented at court, " Kat-
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tiV position, as a personal friend of the Habsburgs, is
now, and has always been, not only absolutely free from
any shadow of the mysterious or underhand, but strictly
fair and above-board.
Empress Elizabeth, who was the soul of honor and
rectitude, and extremely intolerant of anything approach-
ing impropriety, besides being far too clever and wide-
awake to be hoodwinked in any way, was sincerely fond
of Frau Schratt, and made a point of inviting her to
come to see her whenever she was sojourning at her
Castle of Lainz, at the Kaiser-Villa in Ischl, or any of
the resorts which she loved to visit, outside of her hus-
band's dominions, at the sea-side, the C6te d'Azur, or
any other spot from whence strict Court etiquette was
banished.
Many a time during the latter years of the Empress's
life did " Katti " take a short holiday in the early spring,
and, like a bird of good omen, fly to Cape Martin,
with the sole object of bringing to her beloved Imperial
mistress the first violets which shyly peeped out from
their mossy hiding-places in the Viennese Prater.
Her arrival was always a cause of joy for Elizabeth,
who was wont to say that the appearance of "Katti,"
with her sunny smile, and her delicious burden of fra-
grant flowers, was indeed the first harbinger of spring,
and therefore she playfully nicknamed her "L'hiron-
delle " — a very felicitous appellation for a creature whose
graceful rapidity and elegance of motion reminds one
involuntarily of a joyful swallow, flitting hither and
thither and carrying hope and loving thoughts wherever
she alights.
"Hirondelle legere dans les cieux edatants." Thus be-
gins the celebrated song written by Felicien David,
and thus did the wife of Francis-Joseph invariably greet
the woman whom the admirable charity of so-called
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society throughout the length and breadth of two con-
tinents, with the solitary exception of Austro-Hungary,
loudly proclaimed to be her successful rival in the
affections of the only man whom she, Elizabeth, ever
loved.
"Oh, thou short of vision, thou canting, senseless,
hypocritical thing, society! Will the scales never fall
from the eyes of thy adherents?" cries the Due de
Richelieu. "Thou narrow of mind, thou prejudice-
girthed, venomous object, hydra with a million heads,
unconquerable pest!" continues the Prime-Minister, in
a monologue which is full of harsh but strict truths;
and Heaven knows that there is not one of us old Mon-
dains or Mondaines who do not at heart indorse the
sentiments thus uttered by a faithful legitimist, and a
man whose highness of mind and fairness of judgment
were proverbial.
I have seen it stated in newspapers professing to be
well informed that the Emperor of Austria fell violently
in love with the Schratt during a representation of
Scribe's "Ein Glass Wasser " at the Stadt-Theatre many
years ago, and that from that very moment the pretty
actress owed her luxury and her splendor to the gallant
monarch whose heart she had so swiftly captured.
There is not a word of truth in this. Frau Schratt
came face to face with the Emperor for the first time
on the occasion of a private audience granted to her at
her request, when the debts resulting from the magnifi-
cence of the toilettes which she was forced to wear on
the stage became so heavy, that she resolved to sever
her connection with the Burg-Theatre. The directors,
reluctant to lose so popular an artist, having refused to
release her from her contract, the plucky, determined
little woman went straight to Francis- Joseph, in order
to appeal to him as a last and supreme resort.
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
"But why do you want to leave the Burg-Theatre?"
quoth the monarch, twirling his silky mustaches, as is
his wont when annoyed, and looking at the bright, clever
face before him with his penetrating blue eyes.
"Oh, Your Majesty, I cannot stay. I am too poor to
pay for my dresses," replied " Katti," blushing violently.
"Tut, tut !" exclaimed the Emperor. "You are being
swindled, probably, and the harm is not without a rem-
edy ; and as we cannot so easily dispense with an actress
of your merit, I will have this matter looked into."
Here I may as well open another parenthesis to ex-
plain that while the cost of all the superb classic cos-
tumes at the Burg-Theatre and the Opera at Vienna is
defrayed by the Sovereign, actresses are required to pay
out of their own pockets for the toilettes which they wear
in modern plays. "Katti," whose repertoire consisted
almost exclusively of light comedy and drama, such as
"L'Etrangere " and "Le monde ou Von s'ennuie," was
therefore absolutely swamped by her milliner's bills; but
the Emperor was as good as his word. He intrusted
to a well-known Viennese financier the mission of set-
tling Frau Schratt's affairs, and this was accomplished
with so much success that the actress was enabled,
without sacrificing one tithe of her pride or of her inde-
pendence, to remain a pensionnaire of the Burg-Theatre,
where she continued to shine as a star of considerable
magnitude.
The whole incident was related to the Empress by
her Consort, and she was so pleased with the straight-
forwardness and honesty of Katharina that she sent
for her, made her some valuable presents, and befriend-
ed her in every possible way, being quite captivated
by the simple, light-hearted, winning manners of the
"Snow Flower," a strange one, indeed, and a rare, to
blossom on the stage.
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Empress Elizabeth was not given to doing things by
halves, and when once she liked somebody her esteem
and regard were deep and lasting, the word "friend"
being with her no empty phrase. It is, therefore, not
surprising that she should have made a point of treating
Frau Schratt without a trace of condescension, for it
was part of her nature to forestall any humiliation, be it
ever so slight, which a woman of lesser delicacy of feeling
and subtleness of tact might have involuntarily inflicted
on a being less privileged than herself, from a worldly
stand-point, who chanced to come into contact with her.
At small family dinners and luncheons, when the
Emperor and Empress were almost alone, "Katti" was
frequently bidden, and her ringing, melodious laugh, her
inexhaustible fund of anecdote, and her little touch of
vernacular, when she spoke familiarly, kept her Imperial
hosts in a continuous vein of good-humor.
There was something almost childlike in her essen-
tially natural and simple fashion of accepting a situation
not by any means free from difficulties, nor innocent of
shoals, and yet Katharina, strange to declare, never
made a solecism, presumed upon the flattering intimacy
accorded to her, nor forgot her place even momentarily.
All this was accomplished, however, without cringing,
flattery, or obsequiousness. She was content with being
merely herself, a merry Wienerkind, full of guileless fun,
ready to make or take a joke, but yet possessed of an
undercurrent of sincere, almost pathetic, depth of feel-
ing, which made of her an ideal consoler, and a very
precious companion when joy gave place to sorrow and
the dark wing of misfortune overshadowed, again and
again, the house of her kindly Imperial patrons.
"I am Your Majesty's court -buffoon!" she once ex-
claimed, when one of her inimitable impersonations of
some world-renowned celebrity had made Elizabeth
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laugh for the first time since the death of the Crown-
Prince.
"Do not say that," replied the Empress, gently
touching the actress's slender hand, and drawing it
within her own. " You are our ray of sunshine, my dear ;
and little do you know how often your delightful mirth
has made the Emperor and myself temporarily forget
the sadness which now seems to have become part of
both of us. Your merriness is not buffoonery ; far from
it, it is witchery of the most covetable quality, for it
chases away dark thoughts and turns the somberest
sky rosy."
One summer morning Frau Schratt had been lunching
with the Emperor and Empress at Castle Lainz. The
weather was oppressively warm, and through the open
windows the superb parterres amid which the castle is
embedded showed like rich, multi-colored carpets under
a lowering, storm-laden sky.
The Empress, who was clad in a diaphanous tea-gown
of black gauze and lace, expressed her consideration for
"those poor men" who in summer are forced to encase
themselves in heavy uniforms or stifling tweeds.
" Pardon me, my Dearest," said the Emperor, solemnly
shaking his head, "you do not seem to notice that my uni-
form is made of some ethereally thin cloth, which comes
straight from England, and that really it is no warmer
to wear than are your transparent draperies. But," he
added, with a sigh of genuine compunction, "it is very
delicate and horribly expensive, and I have been sadly
extravagant!"
Everybody laughed at the comical air of consterna-
tion with which one of the wealthiest of monarchs con-
templated his natty attire, this economy, practised only
on himself, being a well-known little failing of his.
When, a little later, Francis- Joseph stepped into the
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grounds to take his usual post-prandial constitutional,
Frau Schratt was requested by the Empress, who de-
clared that she herself was too overcome by the heat to
go out, to accompany him.
Gayly chatting, actress and Emperor wended their
way under the shade of the grand old trees, until they
were suddenly overtaken, without any other warning
than one single, mighty peal of thunder, by a violent
downpour of rain.
Hurriedly opening her dainty silk sunshade, Frau
Schratt entreated the Emperor to take shelter under
this apology for an umbrella.
"What nonsense!" cried Francis-Joseph, turning on
his heel, and leading the way towards the distant castle ;
"I'm not made of salt, my dear child!"
"But, Majesty," implored Katharina, with serious
concern, "what about the nice, new, expensive suit of
clothes. It will be ruined!"
The Emperor was still laughing heartily over her
alarm for this "nice, new, expensive suit" when,
drenched to the skin, they re-entered Castle Lainz.
This little anecdote may serve to show what harmless
and simple relations existed between the Imperial couple
and their "protegee."
Nor did this soft-hearted woman ever misuse her in-
fluence. She was, on the contrary, always eager to
attract the good-natured Emperor's attention towards
the poor and the needy, and to this day she never allows
an occasion to escape, from which benefit may be de-
rived for those who are in trouble, when she talks with
her venerable Imperial friend.
Her r61e has been throughout one of kindly interces-
sion for such unfortunates, many of whom the Emperor,
at her request, has aided and relieved from want or mis-
chance. There are, indeed, thousands in the vast extent
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of Austro-Hungary who may thank Katharina Schratt
for her timely intervention on their behalf, and who
would lose with her the best and sincerest of mediators.
A lonely, wretched, disconsolate life has fallen to the
share of the Emperor of Austria since the day when his
beautiful Consort was taken from him under such singu-
larly terrible circumstances, and this new and unheal-
able wound reopened all the others which his brave
heart had received during a long career of care and
trouble. Is it then a crime that he should have clung
to the pure, deep, and loyal friendship of a woman whom
he regards as the friend and passionately devoted ad-
mirer of his dead wife, and as the companion of happier
days? "My comrade," is what he calls "Katti," and
a stanch, unselfish comrade she is, as all who know the
true circumstances of the case would be ready to testify.
I must not omit to add, if more proof thereof be needed
after all which has gone before, that it was not only the
Emperor and Empress of Austria who were the firm
friends of Katharina Schratt, but that also the Imperial
children, as well as the other members of the family,
hold her in high regard. Indeed, when three years
ago Empress Elizabeth's sister, Countess Trani, made a
tour through Italy, she invited "Katti" to accompany
her as an honored member of her suite, and it was as
, such that the actress was received with the royal Prin-
cess in private audience by Leo XIII. at the Vatican.
There has never been any question of a morganatic mar-
riage between the monarch and " Katti," still less of any
cause for scandal, but merely relations of kindly, de-
voted, and disinterested friendship, which are viewed with
approval by the people of Vienna. They like to feel
that their beloved Sovereign has frequently at his side,
in her person, not only a wise counsellor, but a woman
who considers it her most sacred duty to lighten the
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burden of pain that rests heavily on those square shoul-
ders and that whitened head which have heroically
weathered the fury of many storms ; storms great enough
to have uprooted the very soul of any human being
lacking the sterling qualities of courage and of endur-
ance which so endear Francis-Joseph to his subjects.
One lends to the rich, of course, saith the old proverb,
and it seems impossible to convince anybody that the
knightly monarch, so often compared to the famous
lover of the Mille-e-tre, the Imperial Don Juan par ex-
cellence, should in this instance be innocent of every-
thing but genuine friendship; and yet, for all that, it is
none the less true.
CHAPTER IX
EVER since that second honeymoon, described in
the preceding chapter, Elizabeth, who had always
liked Laxenburg better than Schonbrunn, entertained
a peculiar tenderness for this beautiful Imperial abode.
Those who have not seen Laxenburg, especially as it
was years ago, before too many modern improvements
and the presence of the ex-Princess, ex-Archduchess, ex-
Crown-Princess, ex-widow, who spent the first months
of that widowhood there, depoetized this ideal castle,
have, indeed, a regret to add to those always so gener-
ously allowed by life's sad experience.
To see Laxenburg to full advantage it was also neces-
sary to visit it in the first fresh burst of early spring,
when the great elm and lime trees of the park were still
in the tender, delicate loveliness of their pale -green
leaflets, and when the ferns, from the tiniest feathery
sprays up to the tallest, most ambitious fronds that
tower protectingly over banks of violets, primroses, and
daffodils, were still uncurling their soft tops in its
fragrant glades; or else when late August or early Sep-
tember glow upon the encircling lake, in the stretching
aisles of glancing green and gold, where stately red deer
trod majestically, and upon the superb front of the
magnificent building, with its terraces and tourelles, its
immense gardens and lawns of velvet turf, and its cen-
tury-old timber, under the shadow of which "little
Franzi" once played so light-heartedly and carelessly
with his beloved "Grot."
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Kestrels and gerfalcons wheeled constantly in the
sunny sky of the fair, soft, brilliant autumn days,
keeping their jewel-like eyes harshly bent upon the
tangle of brown - tufted weeds, lance - leaved water
gladioli, and lustrous, dark -green arrowheads, where
the teal and mallard ducks had their nests, and gi-
gantic blue herons stood everlastingly on one or the
other of their slender yellow legs, watching mockingly
and quizzically their enemies, the white and black im-
perial swans floating contemptuously close, and dis-
turbing with their soft-plumaged breasts the clear
reflection of the massive battlemented tower, the fretted
pinnacles, and the marvellously carven balconies of this
paradisiacal fairy chdteau, distant enough from town or
village to make it the most delightful of all residences.
Fully worthy of the wellnigh unequalled beauty of
this exterior was the dim splendor of purple and gold,
the soft-hued draperies, the gleam of ancient, inlaid
armor, the flash of priceless trophies which greeted one
everywhere within.
It was a joy to the eye to walk from the lofty,
cedar-ceiled salons to the great galleries, hung with
Van Dykes, Mignards, Holbeins, Spagnalettos and
many other countless chefs d'&uvre by Dutch, French,
and Spanish masters; from the banqueting-hall, pan-
elled with black oak, where the arms of the Habs-
burgs and of the royal and imperial houses with which
they had allied themselves were emblazoned, and on
three sides of which were ranged elaborately carved
knights' stalls with gorgeous banners, heavily broidered,
drooping above them, to the private chapel, gleaming
like a gem set in richly tinted enamels, ivory, and
dusky gold, when the sun-rays fell upon its treasures
through the ruby and emerald, the sapphire and ame-
thyst and rich, dazzling topaz of its inimitable verrieres.
THE EMPEROR'S PRIVATE HALL OF AUDIENCE ix THE
HOFRURG
SCHLOSS LAXEXBURG
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
That was the old Laxenburg, which the latest occu-
pants, I am told, have declared to be too severe, too
august, too dark, too stern, too antique, and, if I judge
rightly from what I know of one of them especially,
have probably "embellished" with plush portieres and
gay Parisian furniture.
I am endowed with absurd and barbaric tastes, and
therefore Laxenburg in its sombre, noble charm, with its
hundred figures of knights in full armor, standing firmly
in the Rittersaal, its oubliettes, where the white bones of
long-dead prisoners still peeped from the darkness, its
amazing stone and wood carvings, its painted cabinets, its
library filled with hundreds of volumes, including many
editio - princeps dating from the Renaissance, many
ivory and silver bound missals and books of hours,
and many great rolls of yellow parchment, with huge
seals bearing heraldic arms and crowns, depending from
them by broad, faded ribbons, its trophies of antique
matchlocks, and scintillating, jewel-hilted, damascene-
scabbarded swords, adorning the halls and corridors, was
to me the realization, indeed, of what a truly royal
residence should be.
I might add, if this did not really sound over-pre-
sumptuous and quite too lacking in humility, that these
views of mine concerning Laxenburg were shared by
no meaner a personage than Empress Elizabeth herself,
who never tired of wandering in the almost unique
and marvellous Gothic chapel, where is preserved the
monstrance hblding the Holy Sacrament displayed to
Maximilian I., on the cliff of the Martins wand, imme-
diately before his marvellous rescue; of admiring the
private sitting-room reserved for the Habsburg Em-
presses, and which is quaintly and most originally
tapestried with the mantles of the Knights of the Golden
Fleece, worn at the installation of this supreme Order ;
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
or of gazing in the armory at the astonishingly beautiful
armor of His Majesty, Charles V., and at the delicately
wrought bas-reliefs, representing the siege of Troy, which
adorn his helmet.
This reminds me of one special ride with the Empress
from Schonbrunn to Laxenburg, during which she told
me exactly what she thought about this architectural
gem ; and as I have been very sparing thus far — in my
^wn opinion, at least — about personal reminiscences, I
shall indulge myself in a short one now.
After a brisk gallop along the uninterrupted avenue
of trees connecting the two chief Imperial summer pal-
aces in the neighborhood of Vienna, we slackened our
speed and fell to chatting, as was our wont.
Elizabeth was riding a chestnut thoroughbred, pos-
sessed of a morose temper and a very wild eye, and I
a fidgety bay, addicted to unseemly gambols, and dis-
concerting tete-a-queus; but this mattered but little, for
we progressed very comfortably, and, as my gracious
companion humorously put it, "with all the inimitable
dignity of twin Cyniscas returning from the Olympian
games."
The weather was absolutely perfect for a ride, and the
checkered shadow of the great, umbrageous boughs over-
head was deliciously cool and pleasant.
"I have," the Empress said, suddenly, "a very par-
ticular tenderness for our as yet unspoiled Austrian
Chenonceaux. There are things quite as interesting
as at the Burg to be seen there, some even more so,
and, moreover, its being built on the lake in this old-fash-
ioned way endears it extremely to me."
I knew of memories which endeared Laxenburg still
more to her, but said nothing about those, of course,
and silently acquiesced.
"Every time I am there," she continued, flicking the
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ears of her horse absent-mindedly with the end of her
stick, which made the latter treat us to a bound prodig-
ious enough to have unseated any one else, but which
did not even cause this amazing horsewoman to inter-
rupt her sentence, "I invariably fall to envying the
ladies for whom those delicious full suits of armor we
were looking at the other day were made."
"To judge from them," I replied, dryly, "Jeanne d'Arc
was not the only ' fair ladye ' who appreciated the pleas-
ures of excitement and danger, and merrily sallied forth
to encounter such distractions as flying arrows and ex-
ploding culverins."
"Such feelings are distinctly in favor of mediaeval
women," she began; but the sudden breaking of a small
branch caused her estimable hunter to stand upright,
viciously pawing the air, and it was only when her,
"Gently, old boy; quiet, quiet!" had induced the irasci-
ble animal to come down on his forelegs again that she
resumed — "They say that I have been guilty of many
mad pranks. What say you to our being measured for
armor? That would startle the old fogies, would it not.
and make them chicane us with renewed vigor?"
I laughed. The idea was amusing to me. "The
feudal times must have been glorious!" I exclaimed,
however, anxious to turn the conversation back into
safer channels, for any thought of "the old fogies" was
sure to destroy her good-humor; "but it seems to me
they are never well or fairly described, either by roman-
cists, who mostly vilify them, or by historians, who do
them scant justice."
"You are quite right; it has often struck me, too.
There is a strange spite against the aristocracy of the
Middle Ages, and that of the present also, for that
matter, in this enlightened period. It is sheer preju-
dice, nothing else, for the hypocrisies, Jesuitisms, giant
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frauds, robberies, swindles, and other agreeable qualities
of the middle classes and parvenus of to - day would
give points to the boldest and most high-handed doings
of the Rauber-Barons."
This was so much my own opinion that I cried, delight-
edly, "Yes, yes! the most amazing fancy of modernists
is that low breeding purifies and blue blood stains; that
the self-made man is invariably a hero, while to descend
from a long line of valiant soldiers is, ipse-facto, to be
devoid of common honesty, ordinary morals, or even
so much as a conscience. It seems odd, does it not, that
a man or woman who have inherited refinement and a
high conception of honor from their ancestors should be
the worse for it, and consequently selected as the stalk-
ing-horses of vice and villany. Doubtless, there are
very estimable and irreproachable parvenus, but that
should be no reason to annihilate us en bloc!"
The Empress laughed — the gay, infectious laugh so
peculiarly her own when she had for a few hours cast
off the prevailing melancholy of her nature.
' ' Estimable parvenus! I should think so. For instance,
Peel, Baptiste Colbert, Napoleon I., Ney, and a hundred
other brilliant encouragements to youths whose talents
are superior to their station in life; but those all rose
by worthy means. I think, talking of men who rise by
worthy means, by energy and by mental force du poignet,
that I should like to go and spend a few weeks in Amer-
ica. That is the only republican country I ever ad-
mired. A race which produced Audubon surely cannot
produce regicides and anarchists!"
"Perhaps you are right, although this is a novel view
of racial characteristics," I replied, rather dubiously.
"Of course, in America things may be different in that
respect. One cannot pardon any one belonging to the
old Nobility turning republican, although feudalism has
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now so nearly vanished, excepting here in Austria and
in mine own Brittany ; yet it would not be right to sneer
down a huge country like America for choosing its form
of government, since it never had a king of its own."
In spite of our talk we had ridden reasonably fast,
and this exchange of ideas, which was brought back
vividly to my mind under very different circumstances
some ten years later, was interrupted by our entrance
into the park of Laxenburg, which, in its late summer
beauty of clustering blossoms, scattered by a soft breeze
all over the turf, of climbing China-roses blotching the
cool, green shadows with vivid color, and of huge, mag-
nolia - like, metallic - leaved trees, where deep cups of
waxy pink nestled, diffusing an intoxicating fragrance,
admitted of no more dallying with dry political questions.
The sun was just setting, and there was a rosy glow
upon the lake, bathing it with a tender grandeur deep-
ening each moment, and silhouetting the distant Donjon
Keep of the Franzensburg, with its waving silken banner
ripplingly profiled in bronze tints against the dazzling
sky. As we rode past the rose-garlanded Meyerei, its
diamond-paned windows sparkled with reflected fires,
while the castle itself in this heavenly light looked like
a dream edifice, or the palace of Arthur's beloved Avalon.
Elizabeth leaned forward in her saddle, watching that
feast of exquisite hues on land, sky, and water.
"What a delicious place!" she exclaimed. "Oh, do
look at that delicate mixture of pearl and amethyst
on the lake, and the rich, warm pink of those last sun-
rays glorifying the sombre ivy and the cold, gray stone
carvings of the balconies ! It is perfect ! absolutely per-
fect ! and I do not think it can easily be equalled. Let
us ride to the Turnierplatz, and try to imagine that steel-
clad Chevaliers are awaiting us there to fight in the grand
old way for " the honor of their ladye," and that we are
15 225
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living in those fortunate times when far finer creatures
than ourselves were led by four little words only:
'L'Honneur parle; il suffit!' "
The Turnierplatz, or Lists, on that superb evening
looked to both of us just as if Rudolph of Habsburg
himself, surrounded by a procession of knights in full
armor, preceded by heralds, and followed at a long
distance by the priests, the surgeons, and the terrible,
sable-draped Todtenwagen, meant to bear away those
killed in the encounter, was advancing to grace a tourna-
ment by his noble presence.
It was a moment when, in our imaginations at least,
the brave days of chivalry were' revived, for the place
truly had the perfume of ancient times, and was in as
great a contrast with modernism as the grace and
courtliness of manner of our ancestors is to the boorish,
hail-fellow-well-met tone of to-day.
"Ah!" exclaimed the Empress, as at last we turned
our horses towards home, "Laxenburg is the only place
which makes me feel better than I really am; it is so
stately, so quiet, and so untroubled, so penetrated with
old-world charm. A noble place, indeed ! One would not
be surprised to see Duguesclin emerge from that leafy
way yonder, or to encounter Roland striding through
the dim and dewy fern-brakes to the edge of the lake
where those lilies and forget-me-nots are growing.
When I am a white-haired old woman I will come here
to live in solitude, in order to close my dreamy existence
by a last enduring dream of the beautiful past!"
Poor Elizabeth! little did she think that her pure,
noble dreams would be cut short, ignobly, brutally, by
the foul hand of an anarchist, and that with her her
husband's most cherished ones would be buried also.
Among the latter stood pre-eminent, for years and
years, the reconstruction of old Schloss Habsburg; for
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the cradle of his race, where his illustrious ancestor,
Rudolph, first Emperor of his line, lived and loved and
suffered six centuries ago, is to-day in alien hands,
lying, as it does, in Switzerland, close to the German
frontier, and many miles from Austrian territory.
It was, indeed, one of Emperor Francis-Joseph's most
heart-felt hopes to purchase and restore it ; but this was
fated never to come to pass ; and to this day its splendid,
half -ruined halls, its numerous rooms, and its long, wind-
ing corridors are still used by the worthy Swiss to stable
cows and pigs, while the apartment once occupied by the
great Rudolph himself, and which alone, out of so many,
is in an almost complete state of preservation, has been
transformed into a Bier Schenke, where fat - cheeked,
round-eyed Helvetic maidens dispense mugs of foam-
ing ale and thick tumblers full of potato-brandy to rare
tourists and frequent native consumers.
Some years ago, having spent a portion of the summer
in Tyrol, I felt tempted to travel on to Switzerland for
the purpose of visiting Castle Habsburg. I, therefore,
took train to Schintznach, in the lovely valley of the Aar,
where I arrived on a superb September morning, rutilant
with golden sunshine and fragrant with the intoxicating
odor of millions of apples ripening in the great orchards,
which are a distinct feature of the Canton d'Argovie;
and, accompanied only by my old courier, I set off at a
brisk pace up the melancholy and densely wooded hills
which surround, on all sides, the crumbling towers of
the grand old fortress I had come to see.
Densely wooded, indeed, was the whole region, and the
path we followed was cool with checkered shade, and
crossed, occasionally, wild little forest streams or shal-
low brooklets, gurgling, tinkling, and murmuring among
velvet-clad stones, green as moss alone can be when it is
very damp.
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I have a great weakness for narrow bridle-paths with
rustling boughs meeting overhead, and borders of tall,
moist-looking, lanceolated ferns, which shelter tiny, timid,
pale-hued blossoms, hiding their delicate loveliness under
emerald-tinted veils, as were it a sin to be beautiful!
A clear, amber light fell through the aisles of the trees,
and the track was so hedged in, and in places so overrun
by wild-rose, honeysuckle, and dainty mauve harebells,
that I had the — to me always delightful — sensation of its
being quite easy to lose one's self in this delicious tangle.
I walked onward, watching whole hosts of squirrels
leaping from branch to branch, or knocking down fuzzy
chestnut-burrs, which fell with a rattle, and were turned
to green-gold by stray beams of the now rapidly ascend-
ing sun.
Far down in the valley bells were ringing their mid-day
chimes, and the melodious sound rose soft and mellowed
on the clear, pellucid air.
At last we suddenly debouched upon a plateau of
bluish granite, split here and there by the tenacious roots
of wych-elms, and in the middle of which the crumbling,
ivy-mantled towers of a once mighty castle cast black
shadows upon a wide moat, where the round leaves of
lilies and the sharp spikes of irises alone broke the mo-
notony of slimy, stagnant, green-coated water.
From the frowning battlements orange and brown-
petalled gilly-flowers, pink-tufted Joubarbes, and flaming
Ravenelles peeped forth, where once the pikes of men-at-
arms had glittered, and out of the loop-holes, blackened
by powder-stains centuries old, swallows were flying in
joyful zigzags towards the pale blue of the sky.
In spite of neglect, and of the heavy hand of time and
of abandonment, the grim, forbidding pile of masonry
had still, on that side at least, a stately, solemn aspect.
In the silence, the stillness of that autumn day one felt
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humiliatingly small and insignificant, almost crushed, be-
fore this great relic of dead-and-gone ages, which not
even the power of an Emperor could reclaim, the Can-
tonal Government which owns it having repulsed Fran-
cis-Joseph's generous offers of purchase with curt refu-
sals, heeding but little the sorry fact of this broken
eagle's nest — this once proud dwelling of sovereigns —
remaining forever in the rude grasp of cow-herds.
Slowly I wended my way through the luxuriant net-
tles and wild absinthe - plants growing knee - high all
around, and, crossing the battered remains of the draw-
bridge, I shuddered in the warmth of the sunlit Cour
d'Honneur as my eyes fell on the destruction of this noble
place, the heaped-up stones fallen from the thick, gray
walls, and upon which ground-vines ran riot, the remnants
of gorgeously stained glass still jaggedly adhering to
the lancet window casements, and the tall watch-tower
looking as if, wounded by many catapults and blasted
and scorched by petronels, it would even now totter
and fall were its strong corset of dark ivy torn from
about its gaunt shape.
At the sound of our footsteps a peevish-looking old
man came out of a low postern-door and inquired our
pleasure. He was the custodian of the place, as well as
the vendor of the beer and brandy, bread and cheese
partaken of by his customers in the oak-panelled room
where once Rudolph von Habsburg had rested. Also, he
was the proud owner of the cows, pigs, and cackling poul-
try desecrating the audience-place, the banqueting-hall,
and the noble, loftily arched Rittersaal, where knights
had sat in council or at meat, under dim banners droop-
ing from the blazoned ceiling above their plumed and
helmeted heads.
Upon our guide's uninviting countenance shone an ex-
pression of proprietary pride as he led me from room to
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room, all and sundry pervaded by a heavy, nauseating
stench of manure; and his yokel's surly laugh echoed
under the groined roof of what had once been the chapel,
when he pointed out massacred statues of saints, black-
ened by the rains and snows of countless winters, which
the searching winds each year blow more freely through
widening fissures.
From the crumbling battlements, upon which mine
host prudently refused to follow me, the view is mag-
nificent.
Far and near I saw verdure-clad hills undulating be-
tween green valleys, where the broad ribbons of streams
sparkled in clear tints of blue and silver. A hazy radi-
ance, created by sun-heat and distance, enwrapped the
oak and birch woods extending to the horizon, with now
and again the deep purple of pines marking islands of
darkness on this murmuring, rustling sea of foliage.
An infinite sense of peace emanated from those vast,
unworn solitudes made up of century -old timber, of deep
grasses, of the endless shade of towering firs, of torrents
and tarns, and of realms upon realms of pure ether, in
which vultures wheeled and blue herons sailed, uttering
their resounding rallying cry.
For a long time I leaned on the stone parapet of the
watch-tower gazing upon the varying colors of land and
cloud, upon the pure, transparent gray and rose of the
western sky, towards which the sun was gently gliding
and soon would sink, upon the green twilight of the deep
gorges immediately beneath the rugged spur whereon
the castle rose, and I let my thoughts wander to the dim
days of the year 1020, when the Chevalier Radbot had
built it, in concert with his brother, Arch Abbot Werner,
and when the steel-clad followers of marauding Barons
had swept up these rocky slopes, to be gallantly received
upon the lance-points of its defenders.
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Nothing was stirring around me save a flight of som-
bre-pinioned birds — no doubt some pertinacious de-
scendants of the original Habsburg ravens — circling high
up in the air, above the dilapidated turrets at my left;
and the mossy stones, the lifeless courts, and empty keep
gathered a great dignity and an overpowering austerity
from this very lack of sound and motion.
Would this old place never be restored to its long-de-
parted glory, this jewel of the past remain always in
alien, desecrating hands? What mortification that the
scene of so many grand and noble deeds should now
echo nothing save the lowing of cattle, the grunting of
pigs, or the hoarse curses or ribald jokes of drunken
peasants !
I tried to reconstruct, for my own gratification, the
long-forgotten days when this ruin had overflowed with
active, joyful life; when the great apartments beneath
my feet had been thrown open ; when servants, retainers,
gayly clad pages, and brown-robed monks had passed in
and out of them ; when merry hunting-parties had set off
at the call of the huntsmen's silver horns, in pursuit of
bear and wolf within the great forest ; when the setting
sun had touched the bright folds of the Habsburg ban-
ner floating above the watch-tower, originally built, if
legend speaks truly, by Count Gontran le Riche, the
Habichsgraf, and hosts of nobles had feasted before bat-
tle in the banqueting-hall.
A dull, half -conscious pain crept into my heart, and a
bitter sense of depression made me shiver again as I
awoke from this dazzling dream to all that was left of
the teeming, crowded life which had disappeared forever
— awoke to the terrible pathos of so much that was lost
with it — and I mentally registered a vow to faithfully ac-
quaint those to whom such knowledge was due of all I
had seen that day.
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"Will it be of any use?" I said, half aloud, and then I
descended the narrow, granite steps, worn thin by feet
long resting underground, and made my way to the vine-
grown arbor where I had left my own tired and aged
retainer.
Soon we were once more walking briskly through the
forest. The sun was now quite low on the horizon, and
its slanting rays showed blood-red between the boles of
the trees. Behind us the ruins, that had been raised
with hewn stone so many centuries before, towered fan-
tastically against the evening sky, solemn and sombre ;
beside the narrow wood-path a jagged tooth of lichen-
grown stone, pierced here and there, through the under-
growth, like some long - forsaken Breton Dolmen; and
soon a romantic, silvery grayness replaced the golden
splendor of the vanished sunbeams.
As we went down the hill, amid the gathering dark-
ness and the sobbing of the little brooks, the thought
of what I had seen that day hung over me, in a vague
oppression, like the shadow of something great which
had passed away forever!
When I returned to Vienna, Crown-Prince Rudolph, to
whom I recounted my visit to Castle Habsburg, swore
that he would overrule the obstinacy of the Swiss Gov-
ernment; and, later on, he also undertook a trip to the
Canton d'Argovie, under the strictest incognito, but his
efforts, like those of his father, were, alas! barren; and,
bitterly disappointed and saddened, he, too, went his
way wondering.
CHAPTER X
To obtain a general view of a battle, or of a mist-
wreathed mountain-summit, one does not follow the
combatants into the turmoil or ascend the mountain-
side, but, standing at a distance, one strives to pierce
the mantle of cloud, whether it be due to the sulphur-
ous reek of conflict or to vapors sun-drawn from the
eternal snows, which, lifting here and drawing aside
there, allows, in successive glimpses, the desired vision.
The recorder of the life of a great sovereign must do
likewise, be it said, in extenuation of the leaps and
bounds by which I am forced to proceed, and also as an
excuse for suddenly transplanting my patient reader to
Paris in the early spring of 1864, when, beside the Seine,
flashing onward, all silvered in the moonlight, under the
illuminated bridges of the great city, from the leafy
glades of the marvellous forest of Fontainebleau, towards
the thickly wooded heights of St. Germain, the great
chestnuts of the Tuileries gardens were just thrusting
out their first green leaves through the resinous armor
of their swollen buds.
The Paris of those days, the palmiest of Napoleon III.'s
Empire, was, as every one knows, fatiguingly light-heart-
ed, merry, noisy, dazzling, brilliant, and re-echoing with
the thrill of feverish laughter. Over this sea of jest and
mirth Mabille scintillated, like a very Pharos, beckoning
light-hearted navigators to a harbor of eternal f$te and
never-ceasing gayety, and vied with La Chaumibre in the
production of extraordinary revels.
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The palace of the Tuileries was thronged on this par-
ticular spring night, for a great ball was being given in
honor of the new Emperor and Empress of Mexico,
brother and sister-in-law of Francis-Joseph of Austria,
and a dense cohue of courtiers and other "general
utilities" of that meretriciously glittering pseudo-court
filled the enfilade of over-gilded salons, blazing with myri-
ads of lights and heavy with the odor of hot -house flowers.
In the Quadrille d'Honneur, with a wealth of rubies and
diamonds crowning her red bandeaux and drooping curls,
and a white, cloudlike dress billowing about her perfect
figure, Eugenie moved gracefully, opposite a woman as
dissimilar to herself as light is to dawn.
Tall, slender, her magnificent neck and arms emerging
from showers and cascades of black laces, the jessamine
whiteness of her skin and the blackness of her tresses
admirably set off by the ropes of pearls she wore in pro-
fusion, and the pointed diadem of jewelled flowers sur-
mounting her smooth brow, was Charlotte, Princess of
Belgium, Archduchess of Austria, and since quite re-
cently Empress of Mexico.
She was dancing with Napoleon, but looked straight
before her, her thin lips slightly parted in a half-smile of
triumph and exultation, because she, too, like her sweet
sister-in-law, Elizabeth, of whom she had always been so
bitterly jealous, was now an Empress, and she occasion-
ally allowed her sparkling black eyes to rest upon her
tall, blond husband, who was Eugenie's partner, yet
there was no saving shadow of love, gratitude, or tremu-
lous, wifely pride in her regard to denote that he had
not made his sacrifice in vain, only a harsh glitter of
realized ambition and sated content.
Ambition, indeed, was the leading passion of this
memorable fete; for had not that powerful incentive
alone brought together the reckless crowd of degenerate
234
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
nobles who had soiled their escutcheons by condescend-
ing to rallie themselves round Louis Napoleon ; of women
who had bartered their blue blood for a rich marriage
with some gilded Roturier of the second Empire ; of rather
more than less compromised and shady male and female
Bonapartes, whom one had now to address humbly as
"Imperial Highnesses," and of whole shoals of daring
adventurers, of suave ruffians, their breasts covered with
exotic ribbons and orders, their lips grimacing with obse-
quious smiles, while they delicately murmured evil, joy-
ously destroyed myriads of reputations far fairer than
their own, or spoke aloud sickening flatteries to those
gullible enough to believe them ?
A fit entourage this for Eugenie de Montijo, who just
then was at the height of her beauty and of her triumph,
and who imperiously, if not Imperially, had set her little
Spanish foot on the neck of France, and ruled it as she
listed; a fit entourage also for her pale-faced, waxed-
mustached Consort, who now, censed with the purple in-
cense of worship and of power, had, nevertheless, raised
himself by very questionable means to this height from
the quagmire of poverty and humiliation, in which he
had so long vegetated.
His friends — accomplices, one is tempted to say — had
assisted him to the topmost rung of that ladder of craft
with which he had for years attempted to escalade the
Throne, and his immense tact — for tact he possessed to
a supreme degree — enabled him to maintain his ill-bal-
anced position. None could now deride, but all bowed
before this doubtful Bonaparte, who had become the
cloud-compeller of European politics. The wretched
mesalliance — I mean from the stand-point of policy — he
had made, not entirely for love, but faute de mieux (all
marriageable Princesses and ladies of high degree and
unblemished record, having, curtly and with touching
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unanimity, declined the questionable honor of sharing
his Crown) had for a short while obscured his swiftly
rising star; but in a very brief space of time thou-
sands had capitulated before the surpassing charm and
skill of the modern Aphrodite he had married, so that
few were left to debate maliciously, as thousands had
done, the sorry question of her origin, or to hint that her
red-gold tresses and exquisite face and form had risen,
not from pearly sea-foam, but from no one knew where,
and that her pretensions to royal blood were, indeed, so
one-sided that they should not really have been made a
subject of such pride on her part.
An acknowledged leader of Parisian fashions, Pari-
sian ton, Parisian pleasure, and Parisian coquetterie, Sa
Majeste I'lmpfratrice had but one thorn in her bed of
roses, one pebble in her satin shoe, one regret in her nar-
row soul — namely, her hitherto lamentable incapacity
to bring to terms the true, bona-fide, loyal, incorruptible
French Nobility, who, reared under the formal etiquette
of a Hereditary Monarchy, or simply fed upon the re-
membrance of days when the sceptre was not a toy to be
raffled for or seized and detained by the first-comer, had
not permitted themselves to be vanquished by her fas-
cinations or even touched by her loudly declared cult
for Marie Antoinette.
This severity, this intolerance, this inconceivable ob-
stinacy and imbecile loyalty to a past regime and to
antiquated ideas and principles, shocked and scandal-
ized the fair and petulant interloper, who was the vic-
tim of such absurd and rococo traditions; and, of a truth,
it would tax all the sweetness and gentleness for which
she was so unjustly famed to forgive such exiguity of
mind when finally these uncomfortable people surren-
dered at discretion — as she did not doubt that they
would do some day!
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If, at least, she had been able to treat de puissance-h-
puissance with her husband's brother and sister sover-
eigns, it would have consoled her a little for this deplor-
able checkmate administered by the Faubourg St. -Ger-
main, and even to a still greater degree by the provincial
aristocracy; but, alas! she was too shrewd not to realize
that, although forced by political considerations to recog-
nize her presence on the Throne of France, yet that gen-
uine queens and empresses, even her own Spanish Queen,
Isabella, whose maid-of-honor she had been, regarded
her with something akin to scorn, and looked upon her
merely as the most attractive figure of a huge masquerade
— nothing more. A truly galling thought this for a very
pretty woman, priding herself upon the extraordinarily
patrician slenderness of her wrists and ankles !
What was her joy, therefore, when, after so many vain
efforts and coquettings with foreign Courts and the an-
cient Houses of the French aristocracy, she at length per-
ceived an opportunity of making the most haughty and
most superb of the Imperial dynasties of Europe recant
its heterodoxy towards herself ! She had grasped eagerly
at the chance of becoming the political sponsor — nay,
more, very much more than that — the gracious hostess
and devoted friend of one of its Archduchesses, whom
French bayonets were, at her instigation, to elevate to
the throne as Empress of Mexico.
Snobbery is a dangerous defect, un joueur contre qui ne
rien perdre est deja beaucoup gagner, and poor Eugenie,
for all the pains she had lavished upon its satisfaction,
had been hitherto rewarded with the blackest ingratitude
— some said with the direst contempt; but, of course,
nobody in his or her senses uses ugly dictionary words
nowadays, except when they are determined to go in for
that most impolite of all virtues, truth.
Charlotte was, to a certain extent, also a parvenue —
237
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
at any rate as an Empress. True, she was the legitimate
daughter of a King, and the Consort of an Austrian Arch-
duke, but her Mexican Crown was even more glaringly
new than that of Eugenie. She realized perfectly that it
perched but insecurely upon her silky tresses, and, in her
effort to preserve its equilibrium, was especially prepared
to resent any affront to her newly acquired dignity. She
judged, moreover, her hostess to be far too presumptu-
ous, and baffled all her blandishments and friendly ad-
vances, arousing a hatred in the Spanish woman by her
scarcely veiled disdain and nonchalant superciliousness,
which, later on, was to cost her and her ill-fated husband
dear.
It must be confessed that Eugenie, who was a supe-
rior "comedienne," concealed her injured pride and cruel
mortification with admirable artifice. She did not for a
moment allow her radiant smile to grow constrained, nor
permit a flash of anger to redden her velvety cheek, in
which effort she undoubtedly showed better breeding
than did Charlotte, who, with the insouciance and amuse-
ment of a spoiled child demolishing a costly toy, pierced
the other's assumed purple in the most delicate and ag-
onizing fashion, with a gleam of clearly noticeable malice
pailleting her big, black eyes. She could not have said
more clearly, if she had used words, "I am not in the
mood to thus descend to your level, my fair lady " ; and
Eugenie, in her priceless laces and jewels, her diaphanous,
snowy draperies, her intoxicating beauty, swallowed the
ashes of humiliation to the last cinder, without giving
any sign of her disappointment and rage, but promising
herself in-petto to be a merciless creditor towards her
haughty antagonist when the reckoning day should
come.
The reckoning day came round sooner than even she
had hoped, when, in far-off Mexico, under the calm, in-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tensely blue tropic sky; under the full, relentless tropic
sun streaming down on the parched earth, the cactus, and
tangled chaparral ; in the sultry silence of early morning,
broken only by the rustle of the wind in the dried grasses,
Emperor Maximilian and his two companions in torture,
General Miramon and General Mejia, stood erect and un-
faltering before the peloton d'exkcution, outside the sinis-
ter little cemetery crowning the hill at Queretaro.
The debt was paid! Ah, yes! with usurious interest,
a full and overflowing measure, when the once proud,
magnificent, disdainful Charlotte, wearied from long
travel, breathless in her agony, giddy with swiftly dawn-
ing insanity, dazed and torn by fear, shame, and despair,
cast herself at the feet of Napoleon, and implored him, by
e^ery justice in earth and heaven, to succor before it was
too late! too late! too late! the man he had sworn to
protect; while cool and serene the now fully avenged
Eugenie, almost doubting her senses, listened, not with-
out feminine triumph, to the piteous wails of the crazed,
wild, black-robed woman, crouching there upon the
ground like a stricken animal, crying aloud, with the
hoarse fierceness of unbearable misery:
"You will not dare to let him die! He is an Austrian,
not a Frenchman or a Mexican. He accepted the Throne
of Mexico, not for his own gratification, but at my in-
stance. Do your worst to me, but, by all justice, all pity,
save him ! Do not let him die a dog's death out there in
that cruel, brutal land of fire, assassination, and treach-
ery!"
In her madness she offered again and again to deliver
up her own life for his, repeating her monotonous refrain,
not to wait until it was too late! too late! too late!
She had now no knowledge left save this — no heed for
whatsoever her bruised and shattered brain suggested
they might do to her — she, who had come so far to ob-
239
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tain help for her doomed husband, and piteously she re-
peated again and again, " Save him, before he dies in that
hell! Have you not mercy enough even to lift a finger
to rescue him from the doom to which you have deliv-
ered— sold him? Let me die in his stead! I will never
bid you spare me one pang, only save the life you and I
have sent out to destruction!"
At length her vehemence brought a fear upon those
two Imperial adventurers, for if she judged that they,
in their wanton cruelty, really were the murderers of her
husband, she also clearly believed herself to be far more
his destroyer, his evil spirit, the selfish, heartless counsel-
lor whose limitless ambition had consigned him to mental
and corporal torment; and in the crimson mists of her
confused censes she suffered a torture which no human
eye could witness undismayed. Their almost supersti-
tious terror kept them from raising her, until her worn-
out strength, her over-strained nerves succumbed, and
she fell back, dead to all sentient life, to all remembrance,
to all thought, her pride of nature, her beauty, her Im-
perial ambitions, her love for domination, her hopes,
her sufferings momentarily killed within her by this
last and supreme blow — their refusal to help her rescue
him.
Shortly afterwards, at a private audience at the Vati-
can, whither she had gone, only to discover that here,
also, there was no help for her husband, the last thread
snapped. In the presence of the Holy Father her rea-
son fled, and she was forever spared the tidings of the
catastrophe which she had so dreaded.
Years have come and years have gone, cold winters
and burning summers, verdant springs and golden au-
tumns have succeeded each other, but Charlotte, ex-
Empress of Mexico, is still insensible to all physical and
mental suffering, wrapped in a heavy, sullen darkness of
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
soul, worse a thousand times than death, and of which
she gave the first signs at the Tuileries.
Now and again the sound of a light summer breeze,
ruffling the fanlike leaves of the palms brought out to
embellish the gardens of the royal domain, half palace
and half prison, wherein she vegetates, has wrenched
from her a cry, awaking all the echoes of the vast, shad-
owy park enshrouding her sinister abode — a piteous wail
which thrills and terrifies her keepers. She springs then
to her feet, convulsed to passionate energy for a few
fleeting minutes, and rushes forward, with her old cry,
"Save him before it is too late! too late!" Then she
laughs aloud, the laugh of a breaking heart, and quivers
from head to foot, until, under their drooping lids, her
eyes lose their feverish light, and she relapses into her
icy calm — her merciful oblivion.
Does Eugenie, now discrowned also — lonely, widowed,
childless — feel any remorse ? Does she, who has suffered
as her so uselessly proclaimed heroine, Marie Antoinette,
Queen of France, suffered, when the Crown was torn from
her golden head, and she was submitted to the gibes and
insults of the people, admit to herself how great was her
responsibility in the events which in the end consigned
Maximilian and Charlotte, one to an unjust and bar-
barous death, the other to despair and madness?
Some eight or ten years ago I chanced to visit the
rooms of a certain historical society in a large city in the
vicinity of New York. Approaching through the dusty
roar of the main business street, with its trolley cars and
lumbering throng of vehicles, I obtained admission by a
dark hallway and staircase to a large, unkempt apart-
ment, dim in the light of a cloudy day, that smelled of
musty books. The place was crowded with books; they
filled ranks of shelves, reaching nearly to the ceiling and
occupying half the width of the floor space ; they lay upon
»6 241
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
tables, interspersed with a litter of papers; they reposed
in dingy cabinets along the walls, which were hung with
faded and grimy portraits; and through doors, opening
this way and that, I could see into small, carpetless
rooms, apparently overflowing with more books, pict-
ures, and odds and ends of historical lumber. There
were a couple of attendants, who appeared to be native
to this dreary chamber, and one of them, while waiting
upon me, directed my attection to a valuable souvenir.
Hanging to a nail in the end of one of the row of book-
shelves was a small, faded photograph, showing Maxi-
milian, Archduke and Emperor, in his coffin, which had
apparently been set upright on end for the convenience
of the photographer. The body was absolutely un-
clothed, except for a cloth about the loins, the eyes closed
as in sleep, and the bullet -marks of the executioners
showed plainly as dark, round spots upon the rigid form.
An old and faded letter from the donor, who was appar-
ently an enthusiastic partisan of Juarez, hung below!
My eyes filled with tears as I turned away — tears at
the thought of the terrible sorrow that had fallen, so
long before, upon the much-enduring man who still
stands at the helm of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
So this was the end! His favorite brother, a man
of the bluest blood in Europe, standing close in the
succession to an ancient throne, young, high - souled,
and chivalrous, sent out by a woman's whim to be mur-
dered by half-bred savages, and dishonored in his death
that the curiosity of the many might be cheaply satisfied.
This loss was, indeed, to Francis-Joseph a sorrow and
a bitterness that never wholly passed away. His other
brothers were dear to him; but Archduke Ferdinand
(Maximilian) had been dearer far. They had grown up
together in a much greater intimacy than ever existed
between him and the two younger Archdukes, Karl-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Ludwig and Lud wig- Victor. Indeed, the elder brother
had felt always a sort of protecting tenderness for the
simplicity of nature and the comparatively bodily del-
icacy of Ferdinand. He had been strongly opposed
to his accepting the Crown of Mexico, and, overruled by
Charlotte's fiery will, had yielded only when Napoleon
III. engaged himself, by a treaty signed at the castle
of Miramar, in the spring of 1864, to leave an army of
twenty-five thousand men in Mexico until the new Em-
peror became able to gather together an equivalent force
of loyal Mexicans and of foreign mercenaries.
How this treaty was adhered to and what unwarrant-
able and shallow excuses Napoleon made for breaking it
is too well known to need repetition here.
Francis-Joseph never forgave this flagrant breach of
faith, and in 1870, when to have made common cause
with France would have been to crush Prussia, and set
Austria in her ancient place as leader of the German
states, he held his hand rather than become the ally of
the man who had abandoned his brother, with the result
that the second Empire fell like a pricked bubble.
Archduchess Sophia mourned her second son with a
grief that time could do little to assuage, but those who
knew her well saw that greater even than her sorrow for
Ferdinand was the anxiety she felt for her first-born,
whose poignant, conscience-stricken distress at having al-
lowed his brother to enter into so perilous a contract put
even his magnificent health in peril. She remained con-
tinually by his side, tending him with her usual devotion,
but accusing him in her innermost heart of morbidity,
although she knew well that no man as active in duty
and unsparing of himself as Francis-Joseph can be mor-
bid; and that, moreover, bon sang ne pent mentir, even
when one's conception of duty is too exalted, perchance,
and one's capacity for family affections of almost too high
243
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
an order; so she was not greatly surprised, after all, when
the Emperor's steel nerves and perfect natural consti-
tution reasserted themselves, and when he resumed his
habitual, unceasing labor, resolutely, generously, and
justly, and with the same success as before this blow
had fallen upon him.
After the first shock he gave no sign of the sense of
deep bereavement and regret that weighed like a pall
upon him, and haunted him so greatly that not even his
reconciliation with his wife, which, as I have elsewhere1
recounted, had taken place just before their coronation
as King and Queen of Hungary, during the very days of
1867, when Maximilian was going through his long agony
on the other side of the world, could console him.
He took long rides and long walks alone during the re-
mainder of that fateful summer, but the rest of the time
he spent in unremitting application to his heavy task as
Head of the turbulent Dual Empire and as Chief of the
House of Habsburg. He forced himself to an even closer
attention to his work, and sought out, with even greater
eagerness, the smallest details concerning the welfare of
the millions who depended on him, in order to escape the
thoughts that bit deeply into his soul ; and soon the Im-
perial Household, so long disturbed by the estrangement
between the Emperor and Empress, then by the long
and brilliant festivities of the Hungarian coronation, and,
lastly, by the tragedy of Queretaro, resumed its former
stately quiet, its routine of adamantine etiquette, as
though these things had never been.
Elizabeth had proved to him that a great love is as in-
exhaustible in its mercy as the ocean, and as profound in
its comprehension, and he found in her sweet presence
and sympathy his greatest comfort. His mother's strong,
1 The Martyrdom of an Empress.
244 /
"ERZSI," ARCHDUCHESS ELIZARKTH NOW PRINCESS OTTO
VON WINDISCHGRATZ GRANDDAUGHTER OF THE EMPEROR
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
resolute spirit, perfect serenity in action, quick decision,
if they had brought him one sorrow, had also spared him
many troubles, fatigues, and disappointments, which
would otherwise have been his. His children were
strong, healthy, beautiful; and yet he looked at times
weary, unhappy, much older than his thirty-seven years
warranted, and there were threads of gray in his hair.
The Emperor is never seen to greater advantage than
when exercising his rights and privileges as omnipotent
Chief of the grandest Imperial Family in Europe, but
which, it must be confessed, is also one of the most diffi-
cult to manage.
Endowed with that winning tact, which is one of the
most precious qualities a man can possess, and of an as-
cendency he knew how to exercise even over those most
opposed to him, he commanded the respect of each and
every Habsburg of them all.
Between him and Archduke Karl-Ludwig there was,
however, a vague, intangible antagonism, veiled on his
part under an admirable courtesy and kindness, and on
his brother's by a none too clever assumption of indif-
ference, for the latter did not always forbear from sar-
casm and criticism of what he was wont to sneeringly
call "His Majesty's advanced ideas."
Of course, Karl-Ludwig had an unacknowledged re-
sentment against the Emperor as the owner of all he con-
sidered that he himself was far more fitted to possess.
That the difference of three years in the date of their
respective births should have given all to the elder one
and nothing save wealth and the rank of Archduke to
himself was a perpetual bitterness to him, and when he
thought of it he almost hated the handsome, stately,
chivalrous man, who towered immeasurably above him
in every respect, and he watched him with the jealous
suspicion of a narrow-minded man, everlastingly dread-
245
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
ing to find himself placed at a disadvantage, or unduly
forced into the background.
All this, of course, was more or less hidden under the
polished serenity of high breeding; but, to a keen ob-
server, it was not difficult to notice the consuming envy,
the latent hostility, the barely slumbering enmity, be-
trayed by a word, a glance, a mere accent of the voice of
Blaubart, as Karl-Ludwig was called by the Viennese,
in allusion to the frequency of his matrimonial ventures.
To a lesser degree, for his nature is neither a strong
nor a particulary bitter one, Archduke Ludwig- Victor was
jealous of the unfeigned attachment of his subjects to the
Emperor, of his good looks, of his social successes, of his
mastery of all field sports, of his skill with horses, his re-
markable intelligence, his wit, his daring, his magnificent
record as a general and as a cavalry leader, in fact, of all
the endowments and attainments which were somewhat
lacking in himself, although, in justice to him, it must be
said that this Archduke has never, for an instant, envied
his brother either crown or sceptre, his ambitions run-
ning in an entirely different groove.
He, too, however, used to look often strangely at him,
his eyes, of lightest possible blue, dwelling gloomily upon
the Emperor, whom he considered to be the most brilliant
and happiest of men, because all women were in love
with him, his wife the most of all.
The very kindness and generosity of Francis- Joseph
made him feel insignificant and humbled, so that now
and again a momentary sting of regret for his ill-feeling,
touched Ludwig- Victor as he looked at the grave, some-
times, of later years, decidedly stern, expression of that
over-burdened man ; but, alas! the pleasures of the gayest
and wittiest city in the world absorbed him so complete-
ly, his butterfly - like dartings and flutterings amid the
swarm of lovely women for which Vienna is so justly
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celebrated filled both his time and his brain so unceasing-
ly, that he really had no opportunity to consider a matter
so far beyond the pale of his happy hunting-ground as a
better entente between himself and his Imperial brother.
One evening, however, the rift within the lute acquired
more serious proportions. There was a Ball-bei-Hof at
the Burg, accompanied by all the pomp and magnificence
which characterizes such festivities. The long and gor-
geous figures of the second quadrille, which, at the Vien-
nese Court, is always transformed into a cotillon, were in
progress, and Archduke Lud wig- Victor was dancing it
with a more than attractive young widow, possessed of a
beautifully shaped person (which she exhibited as freely
as etiquette permits), of a wealth of dark, glossy curls,
and of dazzling jewels displayed lavishly upon her white
skin.
This fascinating lady was a saint neither by nature nor
by habit, and, although she belonged to a family which
was very Hoffahig indeed, she was not imbued with
the pure, old traditions of gentle blood to the extent
of foregoing the pleasures procured by singularly viva-
cious flirtations, lively card-playing, and of two or three
other peche's mignons of an even less innocuous charac-
ter. In one word, she was really a little bit wicked —
just a little bit, hardly worth mentioning, but still enough
to make her the object of cordial dislike on the part of
the Emperor, the Empress, and the redoubtable Madame
Mere (Archduchess Sophia). "I cannot imagine," the
latter would say, acidly, to her daughter-in-law, "how
such manners can be admired or even tolerated here,"
whenever she observed the slim, graceful figure of her
bdte noire treading voluptuously the mazes of an in-
toxicating waltz, or heard her quite unnecessarily shrill,
tantalizing laugh echo under the sombrely superb, sol-
emn ceilings of the Imperial Palace.
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On the night I mention, when Archduke Lud wig- Vic-
tor led her out to take her place in the cotillon, the light
of the gigantic rock-crystal chandeliers falling on the
armor of diamonds, the immense court -train of bright,
rose - colored satin, and the lace jupe that so well set
off her lithe figure, the Emperor glanced at the pair with
displeasure, and, turning to the Empress, who was stand-
ing beside him, with her famous emeralds about her
throat, in her glorious hair, and on her breast, and her
long robe of palest pearl-hued brocade and silver tissue,
looped up with clusters of Persian lilac over priceless
laces — the very embodiment of what an Empress should
be — he said, impatiently:
"I think that this mutual attraction will have to cease.
The woman's audacity is past all bounds; and, as to him,
he is having his very soul turned inside out, like a glove,
and will end by committing some irremediable piece of
folly."
Elizabeth had never looked fairer and lovelier than
she did that evening, and there was so startling a con-
trast between her and that past -mistress of all arts of
provocation, that perfidious Vivien, dancing yonder, and
who had set her cap at a man not physically or mentally
very attractive, merely because he was an Archduke and
wealthy, that he frowned as he watched the little rose-
pink satin dame gaze up with visibly artificial adoration
at her delighted cavalier.
"You will find it difficult to disenchant him," Eliza-
beth replied, quietly "She is very accaparente, and
possesses attractions which, to an inflammable man like
your brother, must be quite irresistible, if you pardon
me for saying so."
"That is what we are going to see," he exclaimed,
angrily ; and as soon as the ball was over — the Court of
Vienna still retains many homespun virtues and retires
248
very early — the Emperor sent for his brother, and gave
him to understand, clearly and concisely, that under no
circumstances could a marriage, even morganatic, be-
tween him and his inamorata be countenanced. More-
over, the finality of his tone, as he spoke, gave the im-
pression that it would be easier to uproot mountains and
pluck hills from their bases, like turnips, than for this
decision to be ever reconsidered.
In the perplexity and perturbation of the moment,
Ludwig- Victor's whole intelligence was absorbed in the
effort of concealing from the Emperor the real impor-
tance of the promises he had allowed himself to make to
the lady under discussion, and his rejoinders were un-
wise.
Finally, the Emperor, losing all patience, exclaimed:
"Do not let us fence in this useless fashion. You must
know, you must have seen that such an alliance — if you
are really simple enough to contemplate so impossible a
step — would be your ruin, in any and every interpreta-
tion of the word. If I were to let you have your own
way, even about what you wish me to consider as a mere
flirtation, it would lead you into paths not pleasant to
you or to us. Fortunately, it is difficult to attach much
importance to your sentiments, for they are, as a rule,
not remarkable for steadfastness and duration."
Ludwig- Victor, embarrassed by the undeniable truths
contained in these accusations, and fully conscious that
it would be vain to controvert them, began to bluster
something about the injustice displayed towards a wom-
an who — a woman that — but was interrupted brusquely,
and with an indignation from which a touch of hauteur
was not absent ; and this galled the younger man so great-
ly that he lost his temper and replied with considerable
scorn and even insolence.
The Emperor took, at first, no apparent notice of his
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words; but when he saw that his self-control had been
also utterly lost in the affray, he suddenly stepped for-
ward and said some few things which cut the Archduke
to the quick, reminding him, among other things, of his,
Francis- Joseph's, triple title to interfere with his actions,
— namely, those of elder brother, of Sovereign, and of
military superior.
" In conclusion," the Emperor said, sternly and bitter-
ly, "I warn you that if you do not obey me I will give
you some command in Southern Hungary or in North-
ern Poland which will, I believe, cause an effectual break
between you and a woman who, if I read her rightly,
will scarcely sacrifice her comforts and pleasures to fol-
low you to such regions. I knew you were singularly
blind where women are concerned. I knew you were
gullible ; but I did not realize the lengths to which your
unbridled fancies would lead you, nor the amazing ex-
tent of your fatuity. Moreover, if you do not wish to
listen to harsher comments on your conduct, I will advise
you to avoid our mother's presence for a few days. And
now you can go," he concluded, in the same tone of curt
command.
The naked rays of an unshaded lamp shone on his feat-
ures, displaying to the culprit an expression of inexora-
ble severity and of extreme displeasure, and in the short
silence that followed the echo of one sentence he had
just heard reverberated in Ludwig- Victor's ears — "on
riepouse pas les femmes de cette sorte." He had been
moved by it to an ecstasy of shame and fury, and, scarce-
ly conscious of what he did, he took his leave, vowing
to himself never to forget or to forgive what had just
taken place.
Reason, that calm, sad counsellor to which so few ever
hearken, never effectively governed Ludwig- Victor with
regard to his many entanglements, which, on more than
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one occasion, caused his brother serious anxiety, for the
Archduke untiringly pursued extraordinary fancies,
which several times he came perilously near to trans-
forming into stern realities. The mere presence of a
pretty woman made him entirely forget, for the time
being, what he possessed of prudence, as well as his
knowledge of the world, and of what the world demands,
so that time and again he had to be rescued from the
sacrifice and humiliation invariably entailed by misalli-
ances even of a left-handed nature.
The already overwrought and overworked Emperor
was, therefore, ceaselessly worried and annoyed by the
untiring self -surrenders of this guileless younger brother,
whose one ambition was to love and to be loved, and who
could not permit such feelings as his to be trodden by
the cloven hoof of worldly considerations. Truly, in
this instance, the proverb which says, "Happy are the
loves of the simple of heart," proved discouragingly un-
true.
He had learned, however, to dread the lightning of his
elder brother's eyes, which followed his airy gyrations
with the repressed passion of a strong man controlling
his scorn for what he absolutely disapproves and cannot
comprehend; but the antagonism which, ever since the
night of their first encounter on this subject had taken
the place of a feeble and harmless jealousy, proved an-
other thorn in Francis-Joseph's plentifully armed crown.
The gilded and jewelled trappings of sovereignty are at
times a heavy yoke, and as year followed year the om-
nipotent Ruler of Austro-Hungary felt the weight of his
splendid harness weighing more and more on his shoul-
ders, the turbulent younger members of the Imperial
Family contributing not a little to this discomfort, and
occasionally rendering his duties as Chief of his House
even more difficult than those he owed to the State.
CHAPTER XI
WITH his brothers and sisters-in-law the Emperor
stood on the very best of terms, even with the charm-
ing Princess, afterwards Princess von Thurn und Taxis,
who had seen her younger and more fascinating sister
preferred to herself by him, and who might reasonably
have been suspected of a little rancor and coldness
where he was concerned.
Queen Maria-Sophia of Naples, for instance, always
was, and still is, a great and valued friend of Francis-
Joseph's, and often, in moments of trouble, has he sought
the advice of that extraordinarily level-headed woman,
whose romantic story would alone furnish the material
for a volume.
Queen Maria-Sophia, although by no means as abso-
lutely beautiful as her sister, the late Empress, was a
strikingly lovely woman. Tall and slender, and auburn-
haired, admirably gifted and talented, and, besides this,
possessed of a courage which cannot be designated by
any other word than that of absolute heroism, she was,
and will remain at all times, one of the most notewor-
thy personalities of the nineteenth century; nay, one
might go further than that, for, even when reading the
dust-flecked pages of ancient parchments and black-let-
ter records, one does not encounter in any descriptions
of those great queens who have long ago passed from
this world a superior to this remarkable woman. More-
over, she joins to the beauty and graciousness of
dainty womanhood the strength of character, the quick-
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ness of decision, and the indomitable pluck which is
generally supposed to belong exclusively to the stronger
sex. It might be added to this truthful and by no means
overdrawn eulogium, that Maria-Sophia is also the most
modest and unassuming Royal Lady in existence, a
fact which was abundantly proved when it was dis-
covered that it was really she who, during the short but
terribly eventful period during which she was de facto
Queen of Naples and of the two Sicilies, played the noble
part which ought by right to have been the privilege and
pride of her self-indulgent Consort. A few short para-
graphs are, however, lamentably inadequate to give even
a hint of the series of tragedies which fell to Maria-
Sophia's share, or to do her such justice as she deserves.
Everybody knows that King Ferdinand II. of the
two Sicilies, much perturbed by the growing agitation
which made itself felt in 1858, and which even his iron
hand seemed no longer able to repress, conceived the
idea of opening negotiations concerning a matrimonial
alliance for his son, the Duke of Calabria, afterward,
during less than two years, King Francis II., thinking,
perchance, that he could strengthen his own position by
binding his family yet more closely than it already was
(his second wife, Maria-Theresa being an Austrian Arch-
duchess) to the powerful house of Habsburg. He there-
fore asked for the hand of young Princess Maria-Sophia,
daughter of Duke Maximilian, in Bavaria, and, as I said
before, the much -loved sister of Empress Elizabeth of
Austria.
Indeed, when all negotiations about this matter had
been satisfactorily brought to a conclusion, it was Em-
press Elizabeth herself who accompanied the fair bride
as far as the Neapolitan frigate which was waiting in
the harbor of Trieste, and who handed her over to the
special Ambassadors sent by King Ferdinand to escort
253
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her to Ban, where her young Consort was awaiting her.
I use the word Consort designedly, for a marriage by
proxy — the last one of these mediaeval survivals to occur
in Europe — had taken place at the bride's palace of
Munich on January 8, 1859, Prince Luitpold of Bavaria
representing the bridegroom, whilst the official cere-
mony only took place at Bari on the third of February
following.
On February 2nd, the frigate Fulminante brought
Maria-Sophia and her suite safely to the harbor of Bari,
where she was received with a great deal of enthusiasm
and much public rejoicings.
Unfortunately, this great occasion was somewhat sad-
dened by the fact that the King was lying dangerously
ill from a mysterious malady, which all his friends and
retainers attributed to his having been poisoned by some
agent of his numerous enemies during his trip from his
capital of Naples to Bari. So serious, indeed, was the
aged Monarch's condition that the departure of the royal
party from Bari was postponed until March 7, when
the dying King, together with the Queen and the young
Duke and Duchess of Calabria, boarded the Fulminante
and sailed for Naples.
In spite of the King's condition, there were numerous
and magnificent fetes given by the Neapolitans to wel-
come their future King and his bride ; and it is a tragical
and pathetic thing, indeed, to think that whilst the
streets, the parks, and palaces of beautiful Naples were
strewn with flowers, filled with music, and gay with
fluttering flags, within the great dusky Palazzio of
Caserta, the father of the radiant young couple, for
whom all these demonstrations were being made, was
lying on a bed of sufferings so great that they amounted
to absolute bodily torture.
This man of iron, whose adamantine will-power had
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
held so long in subjection his eleven millions of sub-
jects, and who had been called by many a cruel despot
and tyrant, now tossed on his richly broidered pillows
under the high - plumed canopy bearing the arms of
his House, mumbling agonized prayers to Almighty
God, craving pardon for his sins, and pouring out heart-
rending entreaties and supplications for a prolon-
gation of existence and a diminution of his dreadful
torment.
Of course, nobody dreams of attempting to condone
the governmental methods of King Ferdinand II., for
his name has remained a by-word throughout Italy to
this very day. But, nevertheless, had it not been for
his wife, the ambitious, autocratic, and unscrupulous
Queen Maria-Theresa, his extreme and superstitious
piety might have served to preserve him from a course
of policy that has rendered him unenviably celebrated
in history for cruelty and hardness.
Whatever his crimes may have been, however, he
received a punishment fully adequate to their greatness,
when he, who had ruled with a rod of iron, and, as re-
marked above, with a despotism that was wholly medi-
aeval, was thus cruelly stricken down.
His one comfort during these days of terrible affliction
came from the presence near him of his young daughter-
in-law, to whom he became deeply devoted, and it was
at his bedside that she learned to be the wonderful nurse
who, in besieged Gaeta, a few months later, tended with
fearless energy the unfortunate soldiers of her husband's
army, writhing under the pitiless lash of typhus and
cholera, in addition to their cruel wounds.
To Francis- Joseph, too, in later years, when, discrowned
and vanquished, she had forever left the land where she
had so bitterly suffered, and when she had joined the
ranks of those Rois en exile described with more tal-
*S5
A KEYSTONE OP EMPIRE
ent than mercy by Alphonse Daudet, she was a true
and loyal counsellor and a tender-hearted sympathizer.
For long years the ex-Queen of Naples lived in Paris
with her husband, who, poor fellow, was so imbued
with the belief that his former subjects yearned for his
return, and would one day call upon him to resume his
crown and sceptre, that for a long time he declined to
buy or even lease a house, insisting upon living at a
hotel, so as to be ready for instant departure if sum-
moned to reascend his throne !
He died, after more than thirty years of exile, and
as he left no issue — his only child, a little girl, having
died at Rome shortly after his deposition — his claims
and pretensions have now passed to his half-brother,
Don Alfonso de Bourbon, Count of Caserta, who makes
his home at Nice.
Humiliated for many years by grievous monetary
troubles as well as by countless other irritating sorrows
and disappointments, the ex-Queen was relieved of
financial worries, at least, by the considerable fortune
left to her by her mother, Duchess Ludovica, in Ba-
varia, and, being passionately fond of horses, like her
sisters, Empress Elizabeth and the Duchess of Alen-
con — who perished so heroically in the Charity Bazaar
fire at Paris — she was at length able to indulge this
taste to the full, and became well and flatteringly
known on the French turf, where her racing colors
were often successful, under the pseudonym of "Count
Isola."
Maria-Sophia is, moreover, the only woman who has
ever received the Russian Order of St. George, a dis-
tinction conferred only for acts of altogether exceptional
bravery under fire, and which Czar Alexander II. sent
her, in recognition of the splendid part she played in the
heroic defence of the fortress-town of Gaeta, the last
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stronghold of the kingdom of Naples, in 1 860-61, against
the followers of Victor-Emmanuel.
To-day, in spite of her sixty-two years, she is still a
very fascinating personality. Her small, proud head is
crowned with a wealth of slightly silvered braids, her
form is still erect, under the weight of pain and sorrow
that it has borne for so weary a period of time, while a
great deal of the grace and beauty of her lovely woman-
hood remains with this lonely, dethroned Queen.
With his brother-in-law, Prince Karl - Theodore, in
Bavaria, the great oculist and philanthropist of whom
so much has been said and written, the Emperor has
always been on the friendliest of terms, and he has, on
several occasions, made large donations to the princely
Hospice where the poor receive such care and kindness
at the hands of Karl-Theodore and of his charming and
devoted wife — that Hospice where no more mundane
sound than the ripple of the lake-water below is heard,
or that of the little brooks dashing onward in the green
twilight of the woods, and across meadows lying like
plates of emerald below great, dark belts of Alpine firs,
drooping Siberian pines, and eternally shivering larches,
and which must, indeed, seem an earthly paradise to
the poor wretches who recover hope, health, and sight
at the same time in this pure, wholesome, beneficent
atmosphere.
My great regret is that I cannot, alas, devote the
necessary space to a separate sketch, even of a very
succinct kind, concerning the most important members
of the House of Habsburg, or of the various tribulations,
joys, or difficulties which they contributed in turn to
Francis-Joseph's long and arduous existence. Suffice it,
therefore, for me to specially mention two members of the
Imperial Family, two loyal subjects of his most Catholic
Majesty, Emperor Francis- Joseph of Austria, who, during
'» 257
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the course of those many long years, caused him naught
but happiness — namely, his old father, and Archduke
Rainer, his favorite cousin.
Dear old Archduke Franz-Karl! It is not so many
years ago that his carriage, drawn by six gorgeously
caparisoned Spanish mules, still aroused the delight of
all children, aristocratic or plebeian, who saw it pass at
a quick trot along the road to Schonbrunn, accompanied
by the shrilly sweet music of its silver-belled harnesses !
Endowed with a temperament so felicitous that it en-
abled him to find innocent pleasure and enjoyment every-
where, he delighted in doing kindnesses to everybody;
and to see him gayly trotting up and down under the
shadow of the trees in any of the Imperial parks, lean-
ing on his gold-headed cane, and smiling on all the world
with his serene, blue eyes, was, indeed, a sight to drive
away dark thoughts and depression from one's mind.
His passionate attachment to his son was not the least
touching of his many winsome traits of character, for
this attachment was never marred by the very faintest
taint of jealousy. Indeed, he always took particular care
to remind him, with a merry chuckle, that he, Archduke
Franz-Karl, was the very first and foremost, as well as
the most obedient and devoted, of his subjects. And in
saying this he was perfectly serious beneath his jesting
manner, for he was monarchical to the very backbone,
believed absolutely and blindly in the Divine Right of
Rulers, and was as strong a Royalist as ever breathed.
God bless his kindly memory !
During the last years of his life, he spent a portion of
every summer at Ischl and Gmunden, those two prim
and poetical, picturesque and gay little Upper- Austrian
towns, which are the ideal of what such pleasure resorts
should be and so rarely are.
Gmunden is within easy reach of Ischl, and is the love-
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liest little Ville d'eau imaginable, mirroring, as it does,
its many beautiful villas and palaces in the deep, green
waters of the celebrated Gmundner, or rather Traun-See,
to give it its geographical name.
In the late seventies, the flower cor so was instituted
there, and this turned coquettish Gmunden every year
into a veritable fairy city for a whole summer week at a
time, and shook it completely from its shadowy, slum-
bersome impassibility, for Court and society alike took
an active part in these fetes, and no one more actively
than the old Archduke.
It would be an almost impossible task to attempt to
give by means of pen and ink an adequate idea of the
picture presented by the luminous lake when crowded
with hundreds of flower-laden boats, skirls, and canoes.
This marvellous sheet of water, in spite of its generous
dimensions, seems but a huge gem, surrounded as it is on
all sides by towering mountains, from which waterfalls,
white with perpetual foam, rush to meet the sparkling,
translucent surface below.
In the dim distance, the silvery gray of glaciers and
the aerial blue of crevasses overhang sombre forests,
which terminate on the sloping shore in a tangled wilder-
ness o"f ferns and flowers.
With such a background it is hardly wonderful that
these flower corsos should have been one of the most ex-
quisite sights that one can imagine!
They always began at four o'clock in the afternoon,
and were frequently opened by Archduke Franz-Karl in
person. He was the first to assail all passing vessels with
fragrant missiles taken from the enormous provisions of
daintily colored ammunition, heaped up upon the prow
of his own gorgeously decorated gondola — a gondola
which, by the way, could have easily hauled aboard a
score of the black-painted, gracefully shaped skiffs which
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
perpetually glide hither and thither on the peaceful bos-
om of the Grand Canal at Venice, and of which he had
been so fond of making use when Austria still ruled in
Northern Italy.
The last time I had the honor and pleasure of seeing
the aged Archduke was just after a great Court ceremony
which, quite against his usual custom, he had attended,
the Emperor having expressed a regret that his august
father should so obstinately shun all state occasions.
As I have often remarked, no Court of Europe has
retained to such an extent all the pomp and ceremony
of past and gone centuries as that of Vienna, and the
consequence is that its functions always constitute a
very unique, picturesque, and stately spectacle.
The one I am alluding to was the official reception by
the Emperor of a new Spanish Ambassador, and certain-
ly was no exception to the rule. The Ambassador and
his suite were fetched from the embassy in three of the
Emperor's state carriages by the Assistant Master-of -trie-
Horse, and as that containing the Ambassador entered
the court-yard of the palace, the regiment on duty turned
out and rendered military honors. In the first ante-
chamber the new Envoy was welcomed by the Grand
Master-of -the-Ceremonies, while in the next room he
was received by the Grand Chamberlain and by the Em-
peror's Aide-de-Camp. The Grand Chamberlain there-
upon announced the Ambassador to the Emperor, and
opened to their full width the folding doors leading into
the Imperial Presence-Chamber — those doors which play
so great a part in diplomatic and Court etiquette, since
only two out of the four folds are opened for an ordinary
Minister Plenipotentiary, while for a Secretary of Em-
bassy but one fold is opened when the latter is admitted
to the presence of the Emperor.
After handing his letters of credence to the Monarch,
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with the customary three profound bows, the Ambassa-
dor was permitted to present to him the members of his
suite, and, after about ten minutes' stay, withdrew, with
equal ceremony.
As I just said, it was immediately after this pageant
that I encountered the old Archduke, most ruefully
shaking his white head, and was informed by him that
' ' Franz ' ' was making most arbitrary use of his sovereign
powers in ' ' commanding ' ' an old hermit like himself to
be present at such wearisome moments.
I laughed heartily, as may be imagined, at which he
affected to be greatly angered, and, flourishing his gold-
headed cane menacingly at me, exclaimed, with an
irresistible twinkle in his wonderfully youthful eyes,
' ' Do you know, Madame, that I have almost promised
in my weakness to attend the Ball-bei-Hof, which takes
place this evening? It is all very well for a baby, like
you, to be amused by such gayeties, but a venerable
great-grandfather, such as I am, sings a very different
song!" and, pinching my ear, a trick which he claimed
to have inherited from his "dear friend" Napoleon I.,
he pirouetted on his heel, quite a la Louis - Quatorze,
and left me, still laughing, to watch him from a window
enter his amazing mule-drawn equipage and drive off,
amid the cheers and delighted comments of the people
assembled to see the procession of great personages and
high dignitaries leaving the Hof-Burg, and who fairly
adored him.
That night, the Empress being absent, her place was
taken by Archduchess Maria-Theresa, who, besides the
distinction of being the Sovereign's sister-in-law, pos-
sesses that of having been burdened at her christening,
in defiance to the very reasonable wishes of her late
father, ex-King Miguel of Portugal, with the rather com-
plex and confusing cognomens of " Maria-Theresa-de-
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I'lmmacule'e - Conception - Ferdinande - Eulalie - Leopold-
ine-Adelaide-Isabelle-Charlotte-Michaella-Raphaele - Ga-
brielle - Fran9oise-d'Assise-et-de-Paule - Gonzague - Inez-
Sophie-Bartholome'e-des-Anges " — which is a rather cum-
bersome array, especially if one is in a hurry and should
consider it necessary to describe her by her full appella-
tion!
Archduchess Maria-Theresa (we will dispense with cer-
emony and give her just the customary two names, out
of the twenty or so, which are meant for familiar use!)
seemed as if she by no means mourned the fact of the
Empress's absence. It is well known that Maria-The-
resa enjoyed nothing better than to be temporarily the
first lady in the land, and her smiling countenance and
extremely gracious behavior showed very plainly that
this impression was correct.
It cannot be denied that her personal appearance is
calculated to make her just the .grand, proud figure
which one associates with the idea of an Imperatrix, but
still, whenever a Ball-bei-Hof used to take place with-
out our beloved Kaiserin occupying her post beside the
Emperor, we felt a blank which nothing could fill, and
our most loving thoughts turned to the lovely Sovereign
whom we missed so greatly.
Maria-Theresa wore a magnificent gown of creamy
satin, so thick and soft at the same time that it rip-
pled about her like blades of light. It was entirely
overlaid with antique lace, of remarkable artistic value,
and was further enhanced by fine, pale, silver and crystal
embroideries, of so delicate a design and so exquisite a
workmanship that they gave one the impression of being
mere shimmering frostings, due to Father Winter's deco-
rative fingers. Enormous sapphires and row upon row
of diamonds completed this toilette, the gigantic Court
mantle of which was strewn with knots of orchids in the
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
most ephemeral of tints, intermingled with beautiful
brilliants, set dewdrop fashion. Above the coronal of
heavy braids with which the Archduchess always crown-
ed her small, patrician head, in imitation of the Em-
press, scintillated a triple circle of priceless sapphires
and diamonds, shaped like a slightly pointed arch, and
terminated at the topmost curve by a unique pearl of
such unusual lustre and size that it is known by every-
body as Le joyau de VArchiduchesse.
As always, the uniforms of the officers, Court officials,
and great Magnates were dazzling, the Emperor, who
wore that of a cavalry general, being among the simplest.
Margrave Pallavicini wore the grand costume of a Knight
of Malta, whereas Count Harrach had donned the pict-
uresque garb of the Teutonic Order.
There were many Hungarian Nobles, towering above
the crowd of white shoulders, and whose dark and hand*-
some heads were wonderfully set off by the rich fur-
trimmed velvets and gleaming jewels of their Tracht,
the Polish Seigneurs also, covered with priceless jewels
and wrapped in costly, shimmering stuffs, added to the
semi-barbaric coup-d 'ceil.
Just as we were watching a crowd of lovely young
girls waiting to be presented, and who, according to
the Emperor's own saying, made one think of a "flight
of snowy butterflies about to take wing," Archduke
Franz-Karl whispered to me:
"My life and joy no longer shine in women's eyes,
Heaven be praised! else my danger would be great in
such a temple of beauty! Look at them, the old and
the young, all distractingly lovely!" and he gave his
little, low chuckle of kindly malice. "Assuredly some
modern alchemist must have rediscovered Ninon de
1'Enclos' beauty potion, for even my contemporaries
themselves have still such lovely figures, such bloom,
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such very brilliant eyes, that we must take it for granted
they possess a secret to avoid old Father Time's tri-
umphal car of Juggernaut."
"The expediency of our sex is not to be disputed," I
replied, demurely. "It is a quality which has reached
now the highest point of cultivation with us. Time and
sorrow and wear are distanced and successfully kept at
bay where beauty is concerned ; but men should be satis-
fied with the results, and not pry into the secret of the
means."
"Miraculous, no doubt!" he replied in the same ban-
tering tone; "but why thus take fire in defence of whit-
ened sepulchres? Must I gather from this that your
sixteen years, or is it seventeen — surely, you cannot
already be so aged — are the mere result of a secret de
beaute?"
How well I remember his delight at this little joke of
his, and what mischievous joy he took in teasing me,
who, of course, considered myself already most matronly,
but not quite, quite sufficiently so as not to still bitterly
envy the maturer charm, caustic wit, and superb arro-
gance of women twice and even three times my age,
who had so much of the knowledge I then lacked, and
who often looked at me with the little smile of indul-
gent but very galling pity which the thorough -paced,
experienced, long -broken -to -harness women of the
world feel for the still childish being who is so lamen-
tably deficient in the years that have made them what
they are — namely, redoubtably perfect and imposing
grandes dames.
In those days queenly Archduchess Elizabeth inspired
me with awed admiration. She was — fortunately for
her, I thought then, but have altered my opinion since —
decidedly on the wrong side of forty, but, apart from
being a most remarkable and sagacious woman, extraor-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
dinarily clever, wise, learned, and possessing a knowl-
edge of statesmanship seldom equalled by men, and
which her charming daughter, Queen Maria-Christina of
Spain, in a great measure inherited, she was still a very
beautiful woman, without the aid of any secret de beaute.
Very tall, with a singularly harmonious and reposeful
bearing, large, calm, proud, meditative eyes, an exceed-
ingly fair skin and delicately chiselled features, she was
also what one may term as de ban conseil ; and the Em-
peror, who not only was her cousin, but whom she had
always dearly loved, consulted her whenever he was met
by a new difficulty or a particularly vexatious question.
She had, moreover, the rather unique privilege of
being trebly an Austrian Archduchess — which to my
young judgment was a privilege indeed — for she was
the daughter of Archduke Joseph Palatine of Hungary,
had married first Archduke Ferdinand, younger brother '
and heir of the last Sovereign-Duke of Modena, and,
after some two years of widowhood, had united herself
with Archduke Charles - Ferdinand, son of Archduke
Charles, the famous cavalry leader of the Napoleonic
wars and the hero of the battle of Aspern.
Certainly, this treble Archduchess was one of the hand-
somest women in Austria, and one of the most respect-
ed and reverenced; and to see her as she was that
night, in a Court dress of dark blue velvet, embroidered
with silver lilies, and wearing a regal wealth of wonderful
old jewels dating back to the time of Mary of Burgundy
and of Empress Maria-Theresa, was in itself a lesson in
stately deportment.
Archduke Franz-Karl admired her immensely, too,
and we both remained silent as we watched her cross
the dazzlingly illuminated Redouten-Saal, leaning on the
arm of Archduke Rainer, another magnificent specimen
of Habsburg nobility, a gallant, courageous, generous
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
gentleman, beloved by all who know him, and whose
name has long since become a synonym for limitless
kindness and grand, old-fashioned courtesy.
Very tall, too, and very soldierly -looking is Archduke
Rainer, and from none does the Emperor sooner seek
advice upon military questions than from him. He
is one of the most erudite princes in Europe, and
Austria is indebted to him for the creation of Vienna's
superb Museum of Art and Sciences, and for that of
many similar institutions throughout the Empire. In-
deed, this devotion to science and to art induced him
to travel a great deal incognito, and, in spite of his
enormous wealth, in the simplest and most unostenta-
tious fashion, mostly accompanied by his charming wife,
who is so devoted to him that she never feels happy
for a moment when absent from his side.
Thus they visited Egypt, Algeria, Greece, Spain, and
many other interesting lands, from which they brought
back the enormous collections of priceless curios which
fill their gorgeous palace at Vienna.
Of course, such a mode of travelling caused the Arch-
ducal couple to meet with some strange adventures.
One, indeed, in which a young American tourist plays a
conspicuous role, deserves to be set down here, if only
for the glimpse it affords of Archduke Rainer's ever-
present politesse de coeur.
While sitting on the veranda of a Swiss hotel, a few
years ago, the Archduke, who, of course, was in mufti,
was suddenly accosted by a well-dressed young man,
who was perusing a pile of both English and American
newspapers, in the following fashion:
"I heard you speaking English yesterday, and as it's
a relief to me to converse in a language that I can
understand, I made up my mind, when next I had the
chance, to have a chat with you."
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The Archduke bowed courteously, and awaited with
admirably concealed amusement what would follow this
singular entree en matiere.
"My word," continued the young man, "Europe is
disappointing, isn't it? Now, in America we have scen-
ery which beats these snow-mountains over there hollow,
even at sunset, as at present, when the very waiters are
so proud of their Alpengluk, as they call it; to me they
look like strawberry and vanilla ice-cream, heaped too
generously, and not very artistically, in a green, wooden
cup. Don't you think so?"
"Well," replied the Archduke, who had but vaguely
understood this striking comparison, "you see, I am
sorry to say, that I have never visited America, and so
I have to be content with plain little views like this one."
" Never been across the pond ? You don't say! But
you are laughing at me, perhaps? I can assure you that
we have mountains and lakes and trees that take the
shine completely out of that sort of thing yonder. I'm
going to do Europe thoroughly, nevertheless, now that I
am here. From this place I'm going over to Austria;
they say that Tyrol is fine. Well, we'll see. I'm curi-
ous to meet the bigwigs in Vienna ; one of my best friends
was Secretary of our Legation there, and he told me that
the aristocracy and the Imperial Family are extremely
gay-"
This announcement was perhaps not of the most
apposite, and might, moreover, have set the teeth of
any other Habsburg Prince than Archduk.e Rainer on
edge, but there was something so pleasing in the frank,
genial, unconventional manners of the young man that
no offence was taken, even when he quietly proceeded
to confidentially inform his smiling interlocutor that he
had heard the most dreadful reports with regard to the
immorality of the Habsburgs, and denounced almost
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every scion of this Imperial House, from the Emperor
downward, as being "blown black and blue by nor'-
westers," which, he explained, meant to be quite lament-
ably off color!
Archduke Rainer, who had listened imperturbably,
continued blowing smoke rings from his Havana into
the pure Alpine air, and mildly remarked, without dis-
puting, however, or in any way taking up the cudgels
of defence, that he had never heard of these things be-
fore, although he himself was a native of Vienna, and
concluded this discreet speech by expressing a cordial
hope that his "Young friend" would not find the pretty
Austrian capital quite so bad as it had been painted.
Then, emerging with a pleasant smile from his halo of
smoke, he bowed again in the friendliest way, and saun-
tered down a path leading to the lake.
The young man looked after him slightly puzzled.
This tall, commanding, gray-clad, erect figure, this hand-
some face, barred across by an immense moustache,
might after all, perchance, be that of one of the aristo-
crats he had just so thoroughly "cut over the ears" — to
use his own graphic expression. That certainly would
be a pity, for he was a splendid old chap, and the light-
hearted American lad would be sorry, indeed, to have
offended him; so, turning to a personage who had
throughout the interesting colloquy been sitting on the
unknown's other side, and whom he knew belonged to
the old gentleman's party, he exclaimed:
"Your friend seems a mighty nice fellow, and I
hope I haven't vexed him. But, you see, he didn't
seem to believe what everybody knows, and that is that
strangers who visit a country find out more in a few
weeks of residence about its customs, its people, and
its society than do the natives, if they live a hundred
years. Now, you, I'm sure, will agree with me, ong
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intevm, that the Viennese are all pretty gay, jolly as
they make 'em, in fact. I can't dream for a moment
that my diplomatic friend tried to guy me, either, and I
will back his opinion, through thick and thin, even before
I go and see for myself. It's your friend who is misin-
formed, as it's natural that he should be, being a native.
I guess a lot of what happens in his little town doesn't
come to his old ears."
"That is very possible," remarked the stranger, who
was no other than the Archduke's Aide-de-Camp, Count
X , wearing a plain tweed travelling suit, "for
people in Austria are not in the habit of talking to
members of the Imperial Family as you, my dear sir,
have just done to Archduke Rainer, the Emperor's
cousin."
The young American jumped to his feet, a look of
genuine concern overspreading his clean-shaven, boyish
face.
"I am sorry!" he cried. "I never thought that this
quiet, simple, genial old rooster — I beg your pardon —
this nice, plain, old gentleman was an own cousin to a
throne! — a real, genuine, bona-fide, simon-pure, hall-
marked, first-class, Imperial prize-trotter! I'll go, this
instant, and apologize!" And before the Aide-de-Camp,
who was by now laughing heartily, could stop him, he
was tearing after the unsuspecting Archduke, on con-
ciliatory thoughts intent.
It would seem that the apologies presented by him
to his late victim were of a pleasing quality, however,
for shortly afterwards Count X saw, with much
amusement, the Austrian Archduke and the American
youth walking together up the steep lake path, and,
wonderful to relate, the arm of the Archduke was linked
affectionately in that of the lad, who was explaining at
the top of his voice that these mountain hotels were al-
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ways set on high, "like bugs on a potato vine," and
that he wished his companion would lean upon him in
good earnest, "for fair, you know, and not as if you were
young and shy."
Later on, greatly to the Aide-de-Camp's astonish-
ment, the Archduke declared that he must really visit
America some day, for a very interesting country it
must be; and as to that young man, well, he was ex-
tremely refreshing and novel, and a nice, good-hearted
boy, who changed one very pleasingly from the ordinary
"routine," etc., but what he meant when talking about
"big bow-wow folk," he, the Archduke, could not under-
stand, and would Count X kindly ask him, if he saw
him again, for it was sure to be something amusing and
out of the common.
Another member of the Imperial family who always
had a decided foible for America was Empress Elizabeth
herself.
A few years before her tragic death, a friend, who,
thanks to great reverses of fortune and other adverse
circumstances, was living in the United States, received
from her a letter, from which is taken the following ex-
tract :
"The free, unhampered life of America must have its charms.
I wonder if it will make you forget that you ever lived another
existence. Yours is now, as I understand it, wholly unlike in
climate, scenery, and customs, anything we know on our side of
the sea, even when we do not confine ourselves to our own land,
but travel greatly. I am afraid that I am very ignorant of all
that concerns the United States; but this ignorance is certainly
equalled by my curiosity, and I would like nothing better than
to come and stay with you for a little while. Perchance I shall do
so some day. With the yacht it would not be so difficult; they
in Vienna would all believe that I am cruising in Norway or Ice-
land, where I have always also wished to go. Tell me if the
close-woven forests, the dense fields of reeds, and the immense
lakes, bordered with huge pink-and-golden lilies, I have read
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about, are really as they are described? I can hardly bring
myself to believe that even in South America there still exist
those superb virgin forests, the silence of which is never dis-
turbed save by the cry of a wild bird or the rustle of an uncoil-
ing snake; so do not think me very silly if I ask you whether
there remain in North America to-day roving, dangeroxis tribes
of Indians, or if all those stories are exaggerations? I read,
some time ago, a book about American Western life, which made
me eager indeed to go and see with my own eyes those great
ranches — horse-breeding farms, are they not? — those herds of
untamed cattle, those picturesque cow-boys, who must be some-
thing like our own Magyar Czikos, although of a far better class,
in spite of their rough-and-ready ways and their delightful quick-
ness with their revolvers, for here, as you surely remember, the
Czikos is an ignorant peasant, whereas your cow-boys are often
gentlemen. Ilyen ember ilt new, tbla&t ott! I would like very,
very much to come over, and I am not at all sure that I will not
do so. There must be some spot on the coast where I could
land unobserved, and then travel on to New York in strictest
incognito, with but one or two attendants. How happy it
would make me to see you again, my dearest one, and none
would need to be the wiser, for I would stand quite aloof and
look on merely, in order to see how that energetic young coun-
try gets on, 'and all submitted to a people's will,' as Ten-
nyson wrote about something vastly different, of course; but
the line fits! Then you would come with me on the yacht,
and we would sail about, and go as far as Florida to see the
gray beards on the cypresses that you mentioned to me. I
am sure I would like it over there, especially in the country
where there are such magnificent horses — Kentucky, is it not?
It is all very well to cling to monarchical principles in Europe,
although of late years in England, in France, and elsewhere too,
the aristocracy — an aristocracy no longer in our sense of the
word — is largely intermixed with enriched tradesmen, titled
Hebrews, and gilded Bourgeois; but in great, big America it is
quite different, naturally, and their politics seem to be a matter
of real, all-important, and individual conviction to them, not a
mere mechanical repetition of what has been droned into their
ears for centuries. But enough of all this for the present.
Write and tell me what you think of my project. Not for
worlds, of course, would I try to persuade you and have you re-
pent afterwards."
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The consternation of the recipient of that letter may
be better imagined than described. To have the Em-
press arrive thus secretly in America, and take up even
temporary quarters in a small New York house "up-
town," within a stone's-throw of cable cars and other
exasperating modern conveniences — she who never
allowed even gas or electric lights to disfigure any of
her palaces, who, simple as were her tastes, could not
bear anything that was not absolutely artistic — not to
mention the responsibility entailed by such a visit.
The thought was appalling, and so the wretched re-
cipient crushed down her own wishes, her tenderness,
and her longings for a peep at the one feminine friend
she had ever had and loved, and did all in her power to
prevent this project — which might so easily have caused
grave complications — from being put to execution.
Life's problems are sometimes a little hard, a little
cruel for those who are torn between reason and inclina-
tion, and cost many bitter tears whichever way they
are solved.
One hears once in a while single words and phrases
which, like the touch of a disenchanting wand, make the
whole structure of one's painfully acquired, patiently ce-
mented views and feelings crumble in a second to a heap
of choking gray dust. That letter had this effect upon
its recipient. Before the thought of what had been,
the intense desire of ever so short a return to the sweet
communion of heart which had been so brutally inter-
rupted, the somberer sides of her own life were suddenly
revealed to her. She resolutely shut her eyes to the
fact, but it influenced her none the less, caught as she
was in a harsh engrenage, from which there was as yet
no escape, and for a long time she was conscious of a
feeling of mutilation, of a loss as painful as the muti-
lation or loss of a limb, and it cost her many a rough
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
battle with herself till she, for the second time, succeed-
ed m uprooting her miserable and deplorable weakness.
Alas! hope is like the graceful, iridescent Nautilus, all
sufficient unto itself in its delicate shell, skimming over
the surface of the sea, and fearing neither storm nor
wreck; but often a wanton blow, an unexpected shock
breaks the daintily tinted vessel, and the fairy voyage
is at an end, the little navigator sunk, like any less de-
liciously ethereal creature. Then a new "ship of pearl "
must spread its scintillating wings upon the wave-crests
to beckon us onward alluringly, until that one also has
met with wreck, and so another and another, until we,
grown too old, too listless, too weary to continue the pret-
ty game, are ourselves ready to launch upon that wave,
the last of all, which casts us far away upon the dim
unknown.
It is, indeed, a far cry from this little Nautilus in-
termezzo, from the hopes and disappointments of a —
nobody, to the resumption of a great and powerful
Monarch's life-story, yet it must be done. So, Festina
lente, Pazienza! we will soon have ended that, too.
A man like Francis- Joseph, upon whom sorrows un-
numbered and heart-breaking have so thickly fallen,
should, in order to live his life out without too much
suffering, too great an agony, have possessed no real
feeling, which is very far, indeed, from being the case.
All that daily ceremony, that hourly etiquette, that
ceaseless being on parade, that incessant pretence of
being interested, charmed, cordial, pleased, which forms
the routine of his days, all the net- work of intrigue
with which he is surrounded, does not lighten his task,
nor can those who are their own masters realize what
it must be to him to be obliged to smile on persons whose
presence is undesired, to divide his attention with un-
impeachable fairness between two score and more of
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Archdukes and Archduchesses, of Princes and Prin-
cesses, whose little dissensions, needs, wants, wishes, or
grievances are laid before him whenever there is the
slightest chance to do so; what irritation, perplexity and
inexpressible boredom must be his when it is demanded
of him that he shall plunge into so many individual storms
and dissensions, when every passing day opens a little
wider the gates of disillusion and of regret before him.
If that were all! If that, at least, were the entire list
of his trials! But what would become of his huge and
turbulent dominion if such was the case ? Sixteen nation-
alities, more or less alien and hostile to each other, are
not amusing toys, or pets to be quieted with sugar, but a
many-headed hydra, exceeding ravenous and even blood-
thirsty, which cannot be led about by chains of meadow
daisies or sent to sleep to the sound of soothing lullabies.
Indeed, the hopelessness of ever completely reconciling
them seems great, and there is but one man who has ever
bridled this cruel and ungrateful monster — namely,
Francis-Joseph, who truly is "the Keystone of his Em-
pire."
And in all those years which have lumbered so
heavily upon the oft-blocked lines which this plucky
engineer had to follow, never has his hand faltered in its
safe, firm guidance, never has he allowed the great Car
of State to derail, never have his manifold personal sor-
rows been permitted to make him pause even for an in-
stant.
When, in the spring of 1872, Archduchess Sophia was
stricken down by a fatal attack of pulmonary conges-
tion, he remained with her day and night during the brief
course of her malady, and when her proud eyes were
closed forever he stood looking down upon the white,
serene face with the dulled, paralyzed stupor of despair.
He thought of how boundlessly she had loved him, of
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
how she had cleaved to him, suffered for him, fought
for him, this strong, clever, masterful mother, now
lying senseless to all sound, even to his beloved voice,
powerless to lift her hand in tender greeting even to
him; a thing now to be thrust away out of remem-
brance of all those who had known her, all those who
had trembled before her, into the dark, merciless silence
of the grave.
An anguish such as falls upon men in their own death
struggle fell upon him then, and smote him upon his
knees, his head bowed, his arms stretched out, his broad
chest rising and falling as though heaving and struggling
against the torture of iron bands; and with deep, gasping
sobs he sank forward, calling to her passionately to awake
and return to him.
When he came forth from that chamber of death, those
who saw him averted their faces from that look on his,
from that unnatural light that shone in his eyes.
The Empress often told me how, at that moment, she
thought she would have willingly given all she had to
resuscitate her bitter enemy, so that he, her husband,
might again be happy ; and how, with that strange blend-
ing of fitness and incongruity which so often assails one
at such hours, the old words of the " Romaunt de Dugues-
clin " involuntarily rose to her mind:
" N'a filairesse en France qui sache fil filer.
Quiy me gagnait aincois ma finance a filer !"
For was there a woman, young or old, who could
hesitate to give her all to gain him ransom from so
overpowering an agony? She, at least, could not be-
lieve it.
That look of hopeless desolation, some of those who
saw it then were destined to see it again, increasing in
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
bitterness of suffering, as first his beloved old father,
and then his handsome, strong, stalwart son, the pride
of his heart and of his House, lay dead before him.
But when the final and most fearsome blow of all
stunned and crushed this unfortunate man, when the
lifeless form of his beautiful wife was brought back to
him in its ethereal and solemn lace-shrouded loveliness,
her glorious eyes closed as though in slumber, bearing
no visible sign of the assassin's ignoble deed, save in the
waxen whiteness of her little crossed hands and of her
delicately curved lips, looking merely like a lily broken
by ruthless fingers, the hideousness of this supreme loss
seemed to arise embodied before him and to gibe and
gibber in his face, bidding him stand aloof and not gaze
upon the proof of the calamity which was leaving him
alone on earth, with no companion save the eternal re-
membrance of this marmorean, irresponsive, immovable
face, which he had adored in all the fulness, the dazzling
beauty, the glory of her exquisite womanhood!
He staggered back and refused to see it thus for the
last time, and fled, wandering through the great, silent
palace, without rest or comfort, and followed in his soul-
rending solitude by one eternal, wailing echo of his
doom: "Alone! Alone!"
There are natures which, in their anguish, seek the
fellowship of their kind; there are others which shun it,
and these are the proud, the tenacious, the unyielding,
the great, and the best. Such is Francis- Joseph's, whose
entourage and family marvelled to see him after each new
sorrow arise, unaltered in manner, unchanged in his tire-
less ardor for work, always the same kind, generous,
calm, quiet, duty-loving man.
Pitiful to others, he abhors pity for himself; merciful
to all miseries, he asks none for his own, and keeping
back his unconquerable pain until none are by to stand
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between him and its unfathomable depths, which grow
deeper every day that dawns, with every passing hour —
watching him when he sleeps, so that his sleep is short
and disturbed, and while he wakes, so that his days are
joyless — he gives no outward sign of the ever-present
distress and loneliness that racks and haunts him, or of
the barbed steel sunk forever in his warm, tender heart.
CHAPTER XII
ALONE, indeed, and in the saddest sense of the word,
is Emperor Francis- Joseph now, condemned to a per-
petual mental and heart isolation, by a fate so grim,
so relentless that it has taken his life like a beautiful
fruit and has pressed it dry to the core of all joy, all
hope, all gladness, all human happiness, and all reward
for the great deeds he has accomplished, the great good,
he has done; a fate which has been, of a truth, more
cruel than death itself.
Alone in his magnificent palaces he often sits, heart-
sick and weary of that life from whence all that made it
worth the living has disappeared, a life that is forever
overshadowed by a grief so immense that it conceals
from him the very light of heaven.
Yet the sense of his rank and his habitual reserve keep
him mute always about his sufferings, and he toils on,
smiles on, masks his anguish with a strength, a calm, and
a kindness seemingly as shadowless as of yore, and which
will enable him to remain to the end the one tie uniting
the Austro-Hungarian people, whose loyalty and affection
are accorded, not to the House of Habsburg, but solely
and exclusively to the person of the present Sovereign.
Alas ! I hope and trust that we may not live to see that
day when, this one remaining bond of union being re-
moved, the Empire which he has built up and of which
he is so proud will fall and crumble pitifully asunder,
burying in the cataclysm the mock friendliness of those
sixteen alien races, the union of which, when once he is
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no longer there to hold them close together in the hollow
of his hand, will, it is feared, cease to exist.
Volumes could be written illustrating the extraordi-
nary fashion in which this patriarchal Monarch has con-
stantly remained in touch with the lowliest as well as
with the highest of his subjects, and of the degree in
which he has shown himself to be the real father of his
people.
He makes a point of conversing with them in each of
their languages or dialects, changing from German to
Hungarian, from Italian to Croatian, from Polish to
Czech, and from Bosniac to Slovak or Roumanian, with
absolutely effortless facility.
He travels a great deal, too, visiting first one and then
another of his provincial capitals, one day sojourning in
verdure-encircled Prague, the illuminations in honor of
his presence mirroring their red, blue, and green sparks
in the broad waters of the Moldau, and outlining the
tall, gilt cross of the Teyn Church and the mosque-like
spires of the thousand towers, which make the old city
look so fairy -like at night; another time appearing
upon the esplanade at Abbazzia, fragrant with the pene-
trating odors of orange and myrtle, where the blue
waves of the Adriatic beat a lulling measure below the
splendid villas and hotels of our Austrian Nice. Again,
disembarking from his yacht at the Francis- Joseph Quai,
as the stars begin to twinkle above the Blocksberg, he
shares his favors between the beautiful twin towns of
Buda and of Pesth, for his affection is divided with strict
fairness between these cities, which raise their slender
minarets on both sides of the glittering, moonlit band
of molten silver, separating them by its fleet current;
or when the rich, golden, Hungarian autumn, with the
glow of its burning sunsets, turns the purple and yel-
low grapes of the far - stretching vineyards into so
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
many gleaming jewels, the Imperial yacht descends the
Danube as far as Peterwardein, between steep, rocky
cliffs rising sheer from the fast-running wavelets of the
sapphire-hued river, or skirts low, marshy grounds cov-
ered with pale, shivering willows like those so dear to
Corot, and intersected by multitudinous streamlets flow-
ing from the flat fields that bear the flax and grain which
make the riches of those regions.
The Emperor orders the anchor to be cast before tiny
townships, or large villages nestling between hills or in
leafy dells, so that he may praise the vine-growers and
watch the over-ripened fruit as it is carried to the
presses by laughing girls and boys wearing the bright,
picturesque Magyar costume.
In the autumn, too, as in the late spring, this inde-
fatigable Ruler hurries off to the great military manoeu-
vres, now in Galicia, now in Moravia, Hungary, Bohemia,
or any other spot previously agreed upon, and from the
minute of his arrival the adoration he inspires to his
troops, and which binds closely together with a frank,
brotherly fellowship the soldiers of each battalion, each
squadron, each battery, becomes at once apparent.
If a mere private wants anything, he knows that the
Emperor will do for him what a father would do for a
favorite child; he knows also that his keen eyes per-
ceive at a glance of what mettle he, this humble unit
in a colossal organization, is made, even be he but just
fresh from the hand of the instructor.
Francis-Joseph loves his soldiers with a great, silent
love, which is fast-rooted in the granite of his nature,
and his attitude towards them is that of a grave courtesy,
a preference for the fewest words and least demonstra-
tion possible, a marked opinion that silence is golden
and speech only silver-plated metal, save when weighted
by heroic action, which attitude, taken in unison with the
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
passion du metier, the dauntless pluck, the emotionless
calm, and the limitless power of suppressing all impa-
tience, injustice, or arbitrariness of which Francis-Joseph
has given so many proofs, abundantly explains why his
very name is worshipped by all those who wear his uni-
form, from the Feldzeugmeister, in his gorgeous, fur-
trimmed, gold-laced crimson and white, and his brilliant,
green-plumed headgear, to the sober gray of the private
of chasseurs, or the yet duller, plainer, brown and dark
blue of the Honved.
Latin or Teuton, Magyar or Czech, were always and
are ever very much the same to the Emperor when the
ring of the bugle is in his ear and the glitter of the sun
is upon the line of steel fringing regiment after regiment
as they form up for a grand parade on the Schmelz or
for a life-and-death struggle in the field, so long as all
hearts beat alike with hope of pre-eminence, success, and
victory. With equal pride he glances at the superb sweep
of his Polish Uhlans, his Hungarian Hussars, or his Bo-
hemian Dragoons wheeling to the attack, and although
he is a strict disciplinarian, and can be stern and unbend-
ding when reproof is necessary, yet his mercy is never
vainly appealed to when the iron wall of military law
offers a loop-hole of which he can avail himself to remit
a punishment or avoid harsh censure.
A little while since, during the manoeuvres in Hungary,
after a hot and fatiguing day in the saddle, the Emperor
was crossing a stone-flagged yard leading to his tempo-
rary quarters, unaccompanied even by an orderly, when
suddenly a soft, shy touch upon his arm made him turn
in surprise, to be confronted by a queer little barefooted
form, very ragged, and surmounted by a curly head which
barely reached up to the Imperial elbow.
The Monarch smiled, and said, gently, with a reassur-
ing smile, for he dearly loves children, even when they
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
have little, grimy, sunburned faces and look the very
reverse of prosperous:
"Well, my little man, and what do you want of me?"
There was an infinite pity in his eyes as he bent over the
child.
The boy gave a long sigh, looking pathetically up at
him, with lips parted, and two large tears gathering in
his frightened blue eyes:
"I came — I came — please don't be angry — I came to
bring this; do take it, please; please do!" and flushing to
a glowing pink, the poor little fellow held out tremblingly
a roll of coarse paper, upon which something was written
in a sadly untutored hand.
The Emperor gazed at this strange petitioner in a
silence which the boy mistook for offence, and, pale now
with excitement, he leaned nearer, with passionate, apol-
ogetic entreaty:
"Don't be angry!" he repeated, a rising sob making
his voice tremble; "please take it!"
The aged Sovereign, in silence still, stooped lower, and
possessing himself with one hand of the uninviting docu-
ment, drew the shaking little lad to him with the other.
When he spoke his own voice was unsteady:
"Who sent you to me?" he asked, softly.
"Mother; we are very poor." The child was trying
his best not to cry, but the tears brimmed over now and
fell on his thin, tanned cheeks. "We have nothing —
nothing, so we must die of hunger, mother and I and
my baby sister!" he concluded, while one little bare foot
traced nervously a zigzag arabesque on the dusty pave-
ment.
The hand of his august interlocutor wandered gently
over the tangled curls as he rapidly attempted to deci-
pher the piteous hieroglyphics of the blurred, scrawled,
miserable petition, the words erased with passionate up-
282
I I I
tfSQBHIMffNp^
iffl
pflllllll III!
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
and-down strokes, blotted with hot tears and scored out
in impulsive misery.
The boy was watching, startled and awed, and as they
stood there together the contrast between the white-
haired Emperor, in his bright-hued uniform, and the little
petitioner, in his loose, torn shirt and sorely patched trou-
sers, barelegged, barefooted, bareheaded, the mighty
Ruler of millions of men and the hungry child of the
poor, was striking and startling enough not to be easily
forgotten by the two aides-de-camp who, unseen, had
stopped under the dusky porch of the yard.
"I am not angry, my little one; don't cry," murmured
the Emperor, and as he spoke he stooped again and
brushed the tear-stained, imploring face turned upward
to him with his mustached lip. "I will see that your
mother, your little sister, and yourself are provided for,
and when you grow up to be a man you will be one of
my best soldiers, for you are a brave little fellow!"
The boy had listened with the color coming and going,
fleeting and burning, from the wavy fringe of his yellow
hair to his thin, brown neck, his narrow forehead crossed
by wrinkles of perplexity.
"Have you a father?" asked the Emperor.
"Yes, Majesty!"
"And where is your father?"
" I — I do not know!" The boy looked away, hanging
his head and working the toes of his little bare feet yet
more nervously in the dust.
"Has he left your mother?" the Emperor questioned,
drawing his own conclusions.
"Yes, Majesty, he — he has left us a long time ago," he
owned, in a dull voice, keeping his tear-filled eyes averted.
"Poor little fellow! Tell your mother that she need
have no more fears, that I promise to send her all she
needs. Will you remember what I say?"
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"Oh yes, yes, Majesty!" the child cried, with the joy-
ful precipitancy of intense relief ; then with quite discon-
certing violence the pitiful little waif seized his patron's
white-gloved hand, kissed it passionately, and, like a wild
creature terrified by his own rashness, fled, leaving the
Emperor to look after his small, swiftly running form
with suddenly dimmed eyes.
Francis-Joseph knows how to talk to the poor, which
is an art possessed only by the most delicate and sensi-
tive hearts, and his manner towards them is so paternal,
simple, and encouraging that all shyness or alarm flies
before it.
To one and all of his less-fortunate subjects he lends
a kindly and attentive ear, and never permits himself
to show the least sign of weariness, however trivial and
uninteresting the troubles confided to him may be —
another talent of more value to the great than one might
suppose.
When, however, this wonderful patience of his is men-
tioned within his hearing, he laughs, and contents him-
self with saying: "It is the moral badge of all our
tribe," which is not strictly true, since there are numer-
ous princes who cannot boast even a hundredth part of
his perfection in an art of which he is past-master.
Many a time, on his private errands of mercy, which
few know of, he has been, like Archduke Rainer at the
Swiss Hotel, mistaken for a vastly smaller personage —
a pardonable error, after all, for do puissant and mighty
Sovereigns (in the usual notion of them) go about at-
tended by no retinue, dispensing their own charities in
a most un-Imperial and unassuming guise? Indeed, one
must be deeply versed in ways Francis-Josephian to rec-
ognize him on such occasions. C'est le cas de le dire!
To see him familiarly seated in a mountaineer's or vil-
lager's kitchen, for instance, quite at his ease, sunnily
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genial, displaying the most sincere interest in the chil-
dren, the cattle, the old, palsied granny huddled in the
corner of the hearth, or her aged mate, who, gnarled
like a venerable oak, has served, many, many years be-
fore, in his Emperor's army, perchance fought at his side,
is unspeakably delightful. There are, moreover, notes
of peculiar richness in his voice when he speaks to such
people.
One can scarcely be a good monarchist unless one has
seen and heard him under such circumstances; but if
this opportunity is accorded, the most obdurate of radi-
cals are bound to become ardent partisans of monarchy,
almost without being aware of the fact.
Francis- Joseph in his palace, with a background of
precious mosaics, of mellow and superb frescoes, of
gold -wrought panels, of silks and satins enriched and
beautified by exquisite embroideries, of priceless bronzes,
of marbles, of sparkling Venetian mirrors, of odorous
flowers, of soft, bright coloring, and all the rest of his
superb state, is a grand and now very pathetic figure ;
but when he is among the humble, be it in Alpine cha-
let or Moravian farm-house, in village hut, or dark city
slum, this man, who is certainly no saint, who has his
weaknesses, his foibles — his faults even, if you will — is
in some ways a saintlier saint than many of those
awaiting official beatification beyond the realms of
azure which are supposed to separate us from heaven.
But if there are pretty scenes to be witnessed when
the palace goes to the cottage, there still are many more
when the cottage goes to the palace — on the occasion of
the famous Thursday receptions, which I have elsewhere
described,1 when any of His Most Catholic Majesty's sub-
jects, who presents him or herself, has the opportunity
1 The Martyrdom of an Empress.
285 • I
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
of a private audience, and the great antechamber pre-
sents a microcosm of the Empire, thronged, as it is, with
representatives of every class, from the highest digni-
taries of Church and State to the poorest farmer and
artisan.
It is only to be expected that, among the ignorant, the
lowly and the very poor, nocking to the presence of their
Sovereign, quaint and pathetic incidents should often
occur.
For instance, on one occasion an old peasant woman,
with an anxious, wrinkled and troubled face, arrayed
in the picturesque costume of her district, and carrying
a small, shawl - wrapped bundle carefully in her arms,
as if it had been an infant, was admitted to the ante-
chamber. She at once betook herself timidly into a cor-
ner, being evidently extremely eager to avoid notice ; but
suddenly the decorous quiet was broken by most ear-
piercing shrieks and squeals, apparently proceeding from
the vicinity of this retiring and shy old dame. The as-
tonished attendants immediately investigated the cause
of the disturbance, and found her struggling with a very
lively little sucking pig, profusely adorned with pink
and blue ribbons, which had begun to resent the con-
finement of the various envelopes in which it had ob-
tained its surreptitious entrance into the most exclusive
Court of Europe !
The poor woman tearfully explained that she had
come a long way to crave the pardon of her son, a sol-
dier, who had committed some offence against mili-
tary discipline, and that she had brought the piglet —
the only apparently suitable possession she had — as a
propitiatory offering for her good Kaiser. The indig-
nant officials would have removed the shameless young
four-footed offender, but Francis- Joseph, whose atten-
tion had been attracted by those strange and unusual
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
sounds, ascertained their cause, and personally inter-
fered in the old lady's behalf, so that the pig not only
received the honor of an Imperial audience and accept-
ance, but the donor procured the granting of her peti-
tion, and soon went on her way rejoicing.
This reminds me that the Emperor is annually the re-
cipient of many a similar tribute in kind. Every year, for
example, on St. Martin's day, a delegation, chosen from
among the Jewish population of whatever city Francis-
Joseph may happen to be residing in at the time, pre-
sents him with two geese, the largest and finest procurable,
securely bound and decorated with bows and fluttering
lengths of many - colored ribbon. This very ancient
ceremony expresses the gratitude of the Hebrews for
the protection afforded to their race throughout the
Empire, and we may imagine that in the olden times
of the "Judenhetz " it voiced a very heart-felt gratitude
indeed. The geese, however, on these occasions, feel
themselves animated by no such cordial sentiments;
quite otherwise, in fact, for their loud lamentations and
vehement protests at having thus ' ' greatness thrust upon
them" is in such startling discord with the convention-
alities of the Imperial antechamber that the waiting
throng are only too glad to yield them precedence and
to see the last of them as speedily as possible.
It is in this accessibility of the Sovereign, this oppor-
tunity for direct and individual appeal to the highest
authority, that the primitive side of the people's life —
the side farthest from such modernities as Reichsraths,
popular science, and popular education — finds expression,
and that the observer is enabled to appreciate the dual
nature of this truly Dual Empire.
To see Francis-Joseph thus engaged in righting lit-
tle wrongs and petty grievances that often, one would
think, might have been dealt with by some local magis-
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
trate, is to be carried in spirit to Oriental countries or
back to patriarchal times, and to realize how much he is
and feels himself to be father of his people — to become
convinced also of how completely he is the architect of
his Empire as it stands to-day. This is, indeed, per-
sonal government, " as it was in the days of Haroun-al-
Raschid, of blessed memory, whose times exist still,"
and will exist long after modern political systems have
passed away.
The Emperor accepts this paternal position with an
earnestness as touching as the people's confidence, and
many are the anecdotes that could be told in illustration
thereof.
While shooting one day, quite unattended, in the
woods of one of his Styrian estates, he came upon a
couple of poachers, who might, had they chosen, made
their escape, or even have attacked him, as has so often
happened in Europe to territorial Magnates in lonely
portions of their forest preserves, but, recognizing the
Emperor, they fell on their knees and humbly begged his
pardon. Finding themselves answered in a kindly tone,
the men took heart to explain that they were both old
soldiers who had fallen on evil days, and that, having
many hungry mouths to feed, they had been forced
to seek a maintenance in any fashion that came to
hand.
Game laws in Austria are very strict, and when the
Emperor had left them, after taking down their names
and addresses, the two poor wretches spent more than
one mauvais quart d'heure of quaking apprehension.
Judge, therefore, what must have been their astonish-
ment and joy when they found themselves appointed
game-keepers on the very estate upon which they had
been poaching. Investigation had proven their stories
to be absolutely true, and so their need found relief and
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
their excellent military record its reward in spite of the
grievousness of their offence.
Another time, during a drive to Schonbrunn, finding
a fire-engine which, while on the way to a great confla-
gration, had been stalled in a mud-hole broken out by
a recent heavy rain, far from leaving the ponderous
machine to be extricated by the efforts of the fast-gath-
ering crowd, the Emperor had the horses taken from his
carriage and added to the engine's team, while he him-
self jumped into a cab that chanced to pass and pro-
ceeded to his destination.
Pre-eminent as Francis-Joseph is as Pater Patrice, and
beloved as he is by high and low alike, he is equally
pre-eminent as a Sovereign, a fact which makes the
"Crown a lonely splendor" indeed.
Between the Imperial House and those of the aris-
tocracy, no matter how old, wealthy, and powerful they
may be, there is a great gulf fixed, which no intimacy
or familiarity is allowed to bridge. The Emperor is
always the Emperor, the father of his Nobles as he is
of his lowest peasants, and there is none even second to
him, so that, while he is simple and unaffected in his
manner, and without the slightest touch of arrogance,
he never mingles with them at any time in the social
sense. The German Kaiser and the English King can
choose their associates from among the Nobility of their
dominions, but almost the only intimate friend not of
his own blood Francis-Joseph has ever had was the late
King of Saxony.
That spirit of laisser-aller which has, alas, long per-
vaded many of the reigning Houses of Europe, is not at
all tolerated by Habsburg tradition; and I should be
tempted to describe the majesty of Francis- Joseph as
absolutely Olympian, in that it is so entirely above even
the great aristocracy, and, indeed, in a sense, which is
i» 289
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
modified by his great approachability, quite apart from
them also.
A story that is told of the Emperor Joseph II. is an
excellent illustration of this. Joseph, a most laborious
and conscientious Monarch, much concerned about the
welfare of his people, presented to the city of Vienna,
for use as a public park, a tract of land that had until
then been part of the royal demesne. (It is now that
queen of beautiful metropolitan breathing spaces, the
Prater.) One of the greatest aristocrats of the Empire
deprecatingly suggested that the Emperor might per-
haps have been too liberal in his munificence, since he
had gone far towards depriving himself of sufficient space
wherein to enjoy the society of his Peers.
"Not at all," replied the Emperor; "for if I am
to enjoy the society of my Peers only, I will have
to spend my days in the vaults of the Kapuziner
Kirche.1
This explains why Francis- Joseph is so very much
alone, excepting for the society of his two daughters
and their children. Already isolated by his position,
it has been his misfortune to survive most of those
who were of his day and generation. Wellnigh all the
statesmen and generals who served him in council and
in the field during the first three or four decades of his
reign, and nearly all his contemporaries who were re-
lated to him by blood, are gone, while those men who
were mere children when he had already been many
years on the throne now fill the great offices of the State
and assist him in the task of government.
Little has been left him of the happiness of life ; but
labor is the panacea for all its ills, and he absorbs him-
self in it, so as to allow no time for brooding thoughts
1 Where the members of the Imperial Family are interred.
290
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
*v
or, indeed, even for relaxation of any kind, excepting
occasional shooting and hunting expeditions.
It is difficult to give an idea of the enormous quantity
of work he does accomplish.
He is obliged to be in touch with two distinct parlia-
ments, the Hungarian and the Austrian; he has to con-
sider and approve documents submitted to him by two
cabinets, comprising no less than nineteen ministers, and
to follow up, with each one of them, the transactions of
their respective departments. He must direct the ad-
ministration and exercise the chief command of the en-
tire army of the Empire — nearly a million of men — see
to the proper direction of two complete Imperial estab-
lishments, one at Vienna and another at Pesth, with
their hundreds of dignitaries, officials, and retainers of
every grade ; he must watch with careful eye the doings
of the various members composing the numerous Habs-
burg Family — doings which very often require close at-
tention— nay, he even superintends the management of
their private fortunes and properties; and, finally, takes
the leading part in all ceremonies and State functions,
not of one Court but of two.
Rising at daybreak from the little iron camp-bed that
I have previously mentioned, he shaves himself, is as-
sisted to dress by his valet, and proceeds to his coffee
and rolls in the adjoining study. As soon as these are
despatched, the work of the day begins, and he turns to
good account the early hours that the majority of his
subjects spend in sleep, although his aides-de-camp
and Flugel-Adjudants are forced in turn, when on duty,
to keep the same hours as himself. Indeed, greatly to
the consternation ot some high and mighty officials, he has
of late years fallen in the habit of frequently giving au-
dience to Ministers and Officers of State at seven o'clock
in the morning! But, as a general rule, these first, fresh
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
morning hours are usually devoted to the consideration
of the despatches and reports that have been sent in
from the various departments, and nothing is allowed
to escape the Emperor's careful eye, as his endorse-
ments and marginal annotations attest. Sometimes
these are of the nature of drastic criticism, at others
they display a humor for which one would not think
"the hardest -worked man in the Empire" could find
opportunity.
For instance, on the margin of one despatch, from an
Austrian Ambassador abroad, were found the words,
"very pompous and trivial," while another bore the
remark, "Count X has signed this report, but seems
to have been absent when it was written."
The Ruler of Austro-Hungary is one of the wealthi-
est Sovereigns of Europe, since, in addition to his civil
list, he commands from his personal fortune an income
which, even in these days of multifarious multi-million-
aires, is of unusual magnitude ; but what he allows him-
self for his own gratification is really ridiculously pathet-
ic or pathetically ridiculous. The terms in this instance
are interchangeable.
As often as improvements are suggested for his personal
comfort at the Hofburg or elsewhere, he is always pre-
pared with an excuse, or an explanation, to justify their
being dispensed with, and, with vigorous protest, in-
variably attempts to extinguish the blaze of entreaty
from his attendants into ashes of discouragement.
When electrical ventilating apparatus first came into
use, and the model of one specially constructed for cre-
ating a draught through a fire-place during the summer
months was shown to the Emperor, he declared himself
delighted with it.
The Court was just on the point of leaving Vienna for
Ischl, and through the open windows Francis - Joseph
292
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
*b
glanced at the fine old lindens, acacias, chestnuts, and
clipped ilex, the parterres of brilliant flowers, the foun-
tains which the hot sun -rays touched to pinks, blues,
and greens, and numberless iridescent tints, while he
seemed immersed in silent calculation. At last he
turned to his first " Leib-Kammerdiener " (first valet) — a
faithful servant , who simply worships his Imperial Mas-
ter, and has been at his side for many long years.
' ' This is an excellent device — excellent ! Pray order
some to be at once adjusted in the apartments of the
Empress and of Archduchess Marie-Valerie."
The disappointed attendant gazed with long-suffering
eyes at his Master.
"And also in Your Majesty's rooms, of course?" he
questioned, almost imploringly.
" Not at all! It is a useless toy for an old soldier like
me."
"I feared as much, Majesty," the valet murmured,
respectfully, but firmly. "Your Majesty will, I trust,
reconsider this, for the rooms occupied by Your Majesty
during the summer visits from Ischl are very warm and
uncomfortable, as the sun pours in all the afternoon."
" I see," quoth the Emperor, with a mischievous smile,
"you are going to try your persuasions once more upon
your very trying and obstinate old Master."
The man looked with entreaty at the Emperor.
" I have often contradicted Your Majesty," he pleaded,
"but only when it was for Your Majesty's good. I beg
Your Majesty to forgive me, but these electric fans are
necessary to Your Majesty's welfare in summer."
"You need not ask my forgiveness for a mere differ-
ence of opinion," replied the Emperor, who could hardly
keep from laughing (to be honest, His Most Catholic
Majesty's gravity of countenance was preserved only
with the greatest difficulty); "your conscience is too
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A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
sensitive, but you must not worry any more about the
electric fans, because I am not going to spend hundreds
of florins to keep myself a little cooler."
"Only a hundred apiece," whispered the " Leib-Kam-
merdiener," imploringly.
"Well" — the Emperor's eyes searched his valet's face
for a second keenly — "I am not going to spend a hun-
dred florins apiece for my chimneys. I am only here a
few days at a time in summer, and, moreover" — as if with
an afterthought — ' ' the weather prophets say that we will
have no great heat this year. Sufficient unto the day
will be the evil thereof," he concluded, his blue eyes
twinkling. " It is very selfish of you to be always think-
ing of my comfort; so go at once and order those fans
for Her Majesty's apartments and for the Arch-
duchess's."
The " Kammerdiener " did not move. Plainly he was
unwilling to be dismissed without a loop-hole for escape
in the direction of disobedience being left to him, a fact
of which the Emperor was fully aware.
" I quite understand," he said, slightly raising his voice
for his man's speedier conviction. "It's a part of your
little game to stand there innocently until I change my
mind. I'll thank you to remember that I am not yet
in my dotage. So it's no use for you to stick to your
guns in this obstinate fashion. Don't you know that
ready concession is due from the young to the old?"
The gray-haired serving-man gazed wearily but reso-
lutely at his master, who raised a forbidding hand, "I
will listen to no more protestations, and, for the rest,
you may count upon my forgiveness, but don't do it
again," with which consoling conclusion the crestfallen
" Leib -Kammerdiener " had to be satisfied.
A month or so later, however, when the Emperor,
leaving the delicious freshness of the " Kaiservilla " at
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<P
Ischl, where clematis and jessamine climb and twine
about terrace and veranda, where roses in glorious pro-
fusion shed their petals on heavenly green lawns be-
neath the beneficent shadow of pine and fir, and- the
forest Maiglockchen fill the air with their fairy fragrance,
to take possession for a fortnight of his quarters at the
Hofburg — undeniably hot and stuffy at such a season
— he was surprised to find them exquisitely cool and
pleasant. Gravely he walked to the fireplace and in-
vestigated it.
"Aha!" exclaimed he, pointing a threatening fore-
finger at the " Kammerdiener, " who was unpacking a
dressing-case with an air of painfully absorbed atten-
tion. "Aha! so you have won your point, after all;
passive endurance must become my forte if I wish to
enjoy peace and quiet. But " — and he shook his head
ominously — "I wish you would • forego some of your
more burdensome responsibilities. A man can't avoid
all of them, I know, but yours must be especially irk-
some— your exaggerated anxiety for my comfort, for
instance. Believe me, forego this heaviest one, at least,
since good intentions in this vale of tears bring no
gratitude."
The three valets who are nearest to the Emperor's
person are now Rudolph Rottner, bedroom valet, Rai-
mund Zrunek, his assistant, and Eugene Ketterl, who
is intrusted with the full care and charge of the military
wardrobe, a huge room, panelled in light oak and lined
with deep cupboards, which hold the multitudinous
uniforms required by the Sovereign for various occa-
sions, such as reviews, receptions, visits to and from
foreign Royalties, etc.
The neatness of this curious place is marvellous. Not
a grain of dust is to be seen on the highly polished
tesselated floor, the two or three large tables where the
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garments are folded after being used, the tall oaken
stands upon which they are aired before and after con-
veyance to the Emperor's dressing-room, and, of course,
still less within the great clothes-presses, where each
shelf, drawer, or compartment is provided with a card
whereon is beautifully engrossed the nature of the con-
tents. These include, besides military garb belonging to
all branches of the Austrian service, that of an English
and a Prussian Field - Marshal, of a Swedish General,
and uniforms of no less than ten foreign regiments of
which he is honorary Colonel — namely, the English Dra-
goon Guards, Fifth Portugese Infantry, Russian Thirty-
fifth Dragoons of Bielgorod, Russian Kexholm Guard,
Prussian Kaiser-Franz Grenadiers of the Guard, Prus-
sian Emperor Francis-Joseph Hussars, First Saxon Lan-
cers, Sixth Roumanian Artillery, Fourth Wurtemberg
Infantry, and Thirteenth Bavarian Infantry, etc., etc.,
etc!
Another important personage of the immediate House-
hold is the first " Zimmeraufseher " — literally translated,
first room-superintendent — Joseph Traxler, whose portly
presence, huge bunch of keys, imposing demeanor, and
dignified mien are quite as much features of the Hofburg
as are its unique tapestries and magnificent frescoes.
There is yet another far humbler and much less state-
ly individual there also, for whom Francis- Joseph has a
quite special regard, and this is His Majesty's own per-
sonal " Holztrager " (wood carrier) , Franz Meidl. Famil-
iarly known to the entire personnel of the Hofburg as
" Meiderl," this excellent man is a character, in his quiet,
unobtrusive fashion. Always cheerful, smiling, oblig-
ing, he may often be seen hurrying silently through
all the superb glitter, the perfumes, the lavish luxuri-
ousness of the Imperial Palace, his wooden hod, filled
with olive and cedar logs, balanced on his shoulder,
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ft
and his great, square basket of pine-cones and tiny
bundles of carefully packed dry heather hanging from
his arm, for upon him repose the responsibilities of
keeping up crackling fires on the hearths of the private
apartments throughout the winter.
"Meiderl" to the community, the old man is often
called by the irreverent pages-in-waiting and young
officers of the guard the "Vestal," thanks to the almost
devotional fashion in which he accomplishes his office.
Softly he sinks upon his knees before the altar — I mean
the fireplace — arranges the diminutive heather fagots
and pine - cones with scrupulous exactitude, tops the
edifice with severely cleaned and selected logs, sets a
light to it reverently, blows little flames into greater
ones with his breath as noiselessly as possible (for he
despises bellows, which he judges to be both vulgar and
disrespectfully squeaky), and remains kneeling until
there is not the slightest danger of the blaze going out.
His calling to him is of an almost sacerdotal nature ;
it is his purpose in life, his greatest joy, and he goes
on with his work from October to May, healthy in mind
and body, a hale and hearty old man, with white
whiskers, a humorous mouth, a large, well-shaped, am-
bitious nose, and a delightful sense of being one of the
most necessary rivets in the great Imperial engine.
As I have already said, the Emperor greatly likes this
old fellow in the neat blue linen garments, who years
and years ago served at his side on many battle-fields,
and he never misses a chance of joking him about
the fact that to-day, as then, he is dauntless under
fire. Anybody seeing the " Kaiserlich-Koniglicher Hof-
Holztrdger" — which means, literally, the "Imperial and
Royal Court Wood Carrier" — look at his beloved master
and erstwhile generalissimo on one of these occasions,
his brown, wrinkled countenance suddenly lit up with
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pleasure, becomes at once aware that even this man of
humble calling has it in his power to let in floods of
light upon the passionate loyalty and affection with
which Francis-Joseph inspires high and low in his vast
Household and vaster dominions.
Whenever the Emperor re-enters the Hofburg, after
an absence of more or less duration, he makes a point
of greeting all those old servants who have been so long
near him, with a certain whimsical and very amusing
assumption of surprise at finding them still at their
respective posts.
"So we meet again, old friend!" he usually says in his
crisp tones, raising his eyebrows slightly with droll aston-
ishment and with a mischievous flicker in his wonder-
fully youthful eyes as he appears to ponder. "Let me
see — is it twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty years since we
first became acquainted? I trust you are doing fairly
well, but you had best be on your guard, none the less,
else you will soon be as old as I am!" and then he passes
on, while the favored recipient of this mark of Imperial
regard, be it a he or a she, remains quite a full minute
gazing after him with adoring eyes and a smile that
verges perilously upon the tearful side of joy.
How he manages it I am lamentably unable to ex-
plain, but it is a solemn fact that the names and faces
of his immense retinue of old servants are known to him
as if they belonged to his family. Stadler, the head
cellarer; Bernhardt, the French head-chef ; Franz Eff en -
berger, the famous Viennese confectioner; the imposing
and superb Joseph Schlogel, who watches at the outer
palace door leading to the Sovereign's private apart-
ments, gorgeous in the glory of his gold-edged livery,
broad baldric supporting a sword of office, plumed
cocked hat, long "baton" (surmounted by a crown and
orb, upon which rests a double-headed eagle of gold),
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•
knee-breeches and silken hose revealing the finest pair
of calves in Vienna — and all the other old palace-em-
ployees, whether they belong to one or the other de-
partment of the Maison de I'Empereur, can truthfully
boast of being personally known, liked, and individually
appreciated by their kindly, large-hearted master.
In his present loneliness the Emperor finds no greater
consolation than to withdraw to the three rooms which
are most pecularly his own, his bedroom, his study, and
a little "salon," all opening into each other, and where
it is understood that he is to remain completely un-
disturbed and unmolested.
None know better than he how exceeding great is the
impatience for solitude of the bereaved, and with what
febrile vehemence the smitten heart longs for peace and
silence, nor to what improbable lengths hours and min-
utes can stretch themselves for those condemned to be
deprived of such boons.
This suite of apartments is furnished with almost dis-
concerting simplicity. There is nothing Imperial in the
long, narrow, sleeping chamber, where the plain, service-
able chairs and tables, and the small, iron camp-bed
seem almost to apologize for their humble appearance.
The walls are, however, absolutely covered with por-
traits in oil and water colors, photographs, and quaint,
touching little souvenirs of those he loves and has loved.
Here hang a dozen pictures, at least, of the Empress,
taken at various periods of her life, also a score or more
representing the late Crown-Prince, Archduchess Gisela,
Archduchess Marie -Valerie, and her numerous babies,
etc. Scattered among them are some primitive sketches
due to the first artistic efforts of his children and grand-
children, also, carefully preserved under glass, several
old-fashioned "samplers," embroidered fifty years ago
by "the little Rose of Possenhofen," and a bouquet of
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pressed mountain blossoms gathered for him by her
little hand during the first days of her engagement to
him, at which he gazes, hungry-eyed, striving to pierce
the mists of the past, and to remember every small in-
cident, every insignificant detail, of that happy, hopeful
time.
Beside the bed a velvet prie-dieu, embroidered by
Elizabeth with pale pansies and lilies, supports, on its
high, carved arm-rest, a Book of Hours, from which de-
pend the delicately painted ends of a broad, satin rib-
bon marker, executed by Archduchess Sophia, while
above it, fastened to the wall, is a curious little crucifix
fashioned of rough wood by the infant hand of "Rudi"
at the instigation and with the help of his grandfather,
Archduke Franz-Karl.
Life for those who have left hope behind them, take
it as you will, is just an incubus, and language fails one
to convey any notion of how heavily it weighs on the
shoulders of Francis- Joseph. Such sorrows as his merely
glance away from the young and reserve their serious
ravages for the old, to whom Nepenthe is impossible,
and who, in their helpless pain, dumbly cry to fate, " Why
have you done these things to me?"
The Emperor's study is somewhat more luxurious
than the bedroom. At any rate, it is vast and lofty;
also, it is rather sombre. The walls are hung with dark
and darker amaranth tapestry, in vertical stripes, " ton
sur ton," and there is a thick, dark -red carpet upon
the floor. Immediately against the great, square desk
stands, on a ponderous easel, and massively framed in
pale gold, the celebrated portrait of Empress Elizabeth
by Winterhalter. Deep arm-chairs, upholstered in ama-
ranth brocade, a few tables, cabinets, and bookcases,
and two or three fine paintings, among which is a su-
perb "Crucifixion," complete the unostentatious ar-
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rangement of this room, where so many important docu-
ments are signed daily, and where Francis-Joseph is so
often found, already at work, before sunrise. One of
the tall windows opening upon a balcony is that which
he throws open, whenever the weather permits, in order
to listen for a few minutes to the music played by the
" Hofkapelle " (Imperial band) in the wide, stone-paved
court-yard of the Hofburg below.
It is astonishing what men will prize, what men will
treasure! Emperor Francis-Joseph, for example, prizes
and treasures above all his magnificent art collections —
ay, above the very Regalia which has descended to him in
its glittering splendor through a long course of centuries,
a couple of drawerfuls of short letters, in a cabinet hard
by, written in a rather large, not remarkably legible
hand, by his only son, and a couple more drawerfuls
penned on pale-gray paper, on the left-hand upper cor-
ner of which a tiny Imperial crown is embossed in sil-
ver, curiously interlaced with the initial "E." From
these last-mentioned there is still to be detected just a
trace, just the faintest reminder of the delicate perfume
— vague, elusive, and exquisitely personal and intimate
— with which everything Empress Elizabeth wore or
touched has remained impregnated.
How many times has the lonely old man read and
reread those closely penned, satiny sheets, think you?
How many times, since the days when all hope of sun-
shine went out of his life for good and aye, when his
mental atmosphere became sluggish and suffocating, as
if it had yielded up its vital principle, and the sable
cloud of an unfathomable grief spread with awful rapid-
ity over his heaven.
It may not be quite right, quite fair, to reveal in print
such little secrets, but biographers are the most un-
principled of people, I fear, Us prennent leur bien ou Us
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le trouvent, nor do they deem that it is right to carry
delicacy too far, for some biographies are certain to be
heart - rending even if they be written with the most
praiseworthy and unequalled discretion.
Nor is it a very great crime, after all, to picture things
and feelings which are the constant companions, the
witnesses of such a man's life — phases of himself which
have remained hidden hitherto — and which should now
be told because they not only are rich in precious revela-
tions of a character extraordinarily fine, but because
they express him in an aspect which would otherwise
never become known outside of his immediate family
circle, an aspect hitherto quite concealed by the con-
ventional barriers stretched between a personage of his
lofty rank and the rest of the world.
And though I am at times possessed by a sense of
what I cannot but call the liberty I am taking in em-
bodying my knowledge of him in a published book, for
all who read to carp at, yet, on the other hand, it seems
that the real wrong would be to withhold that great,
strange chapter of his private life, which shows how
wrongly and unfairly he has often been judged.
A family man par excellence, Francis -Joseph fairly
worships Archduchess Marie-Valerie's children, and also
his bonnie young Heir Presumptive, the eldest son of
that remarkably handsome man, Archduke Otto, and
of the charming Archduchess Maria-Josepha, who now
holds the position of "First Lady in the Land."
Young Karl-Franz is growing tall and slender as a
young fir-tree ; he has his father's magnificent eyes, his
mother's sweetness of expression, and is very manly
and well developed for his sixteen years. He rides ex-
tremely well, and, generally speaking, flatters the amour
propre of his Imperial great-uncle, who likes well, indeed,
the boldness and ardor the lad displays in all physical
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exercises. The uttermost he wishes for him is that he
should grow up a frank, brave, honest man, so as to
become in time a good Monarch; and meanwhile the
boy is happy, full of fun and merry pranks, devoted to
his gentle mother, whom he treats with unconscious but
touching chivalry, proud of his dashing, splendid-look-
ing father, and seeing in the Emperor himself the em-
bodiment of all human perfection.
The clamor, the disputes, the wrong-doings of the
world are as yet closed letters to him, and he cares but
little for his own fate or his own future, great and
glorious though it is likely to be, for the children of his
uncle, Archduke Francis-Ferdinand, the present heir to
the Dual Crown, and of Countess Sophia Chotek, now
Princess von Hohenberg, his morganatic wife, are ex-
cluded from all rights of succession to the Throne.
Few possess the gift of arousing and of retaining
affection and loyalty to the same degree as does the
Emperor. As I let my pen run swiftly on to the
names of some of those who have most deeply felt this
power and have acknowledged it with a life-long de-
votion, I assume no rose-colored spectacles, but write
what really is, with the aid of no illusive glamour.
His oldest companion and comrade was the late Count
Taaffe, an Austrian, who was also an Irish peer, and of
whom I have already made mention on two or three oc-
casions. When he died the Emperor bitterly lamented
this to himself wellnigh irreparable loss, for the Count
was not only the associate of youthful days, but also the
trusty counsellor of later years, a faithful, honest man,
gaunt of figure, and with a face plain, indeed, but prepos-
sessing by its frank candor, its constant good-humor and
expression of keen, alert, indomitable cleverness. He
certainly was an adept in the difficult art of dealing with
the turbulent Austrian Diet, and of bending it to what he
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knew to be the policy of the Emperor, whose wishes alone
he consulted and endeavored to fulfil. He was also one of
the most peculiar looking men in Vienna. Aquiline feat-
ures, a long, narrow head, black hair, worn rather long,
falling to the collar of a strangely cut, old gray frock-coat,
which he invariably wore, and an odd-looking high silk
hat, perched on the back of his head, made up a tout en-
semble which was a perfect gold-mine to the Viennese
caricaturists, who were never tired of portraying him, as
well as his old coachman, who was almost as well-known
a character at the Austrian capital as the Count himself.
This worthy Jehu, who ordered around his illustri-
ous master in the most amusing fashion, had been in
his service for many years. He trimmed his hair in
the same peculiar manner as the Count, wore the same
kind of "tile," perched on the very back of his head,
and when not in livery was usually arrayed in one of
Taaffe's old gray frock-coats. Indeed, the resemblance
between master and man was so striking as to be posi-
tively ludicrous, and constituted one of the stock jokes
of the Viennese comic papers.
Another member of the then Prime-Minister's house-
hold, who was scarcely less well known than his famous
coachman, was his dog, "Moppi," the most remarkable
poodle in the Empire, and certainly more popular than
Prince Bismarck's Reichshund.
"Moppi" was for many years the constant and in-
separable companion of the Count, and was probably
acquainted with more State secrets than any other dog
in Europe, for he used to sit solemnly on a chair in a
corner of the Prime-Minister's room at the palace, where
the Cabinet Councils were held and audiences were re-
ceived, with a look of truly statesman -like sagacity on
his clever and intelligent face.
Unfortunately, "Moppi's" official decorum and unim-
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peachable conduct in official matters did not extend to
his private life, which was characterized by numerous
indiscretions, and as soon as night set in this light-
hearted canine was wont to cast aside the cares of office
and become one of the gayest dogs in Vienna.
It was during one of these midnight excursions that
he was mauled and torn by rival Don Juans and re-
ceived fatal injuries, to which he succumbed, although
tenderly nursed by the Prime -Minister of Austria and
by the Countess, his wife, one of the greatest ladies of
the Empire.
"Moppi" lies buried in one of the prettiest corners
of the park surrounding the Count's beautiful country
seat at Ellisch, and the tombstone that marks his grave
bears the following inscription: '"Moppi,' the favorite
of all," and was always surrounded by a beautiful bed
of flowers.
The late Count Julius Andr^ssy, too, was an invalu-
able man to the Emperor, who used to pat him on the
shoulder and exclaim appreciatingly, in allusion to the
Count's fighting on the side of the Hungarian rebels,
which necessitated his escaping from the country to
save his neck: " How glad I am that I did not hang you
in '49!"
He was not only an extraordinarily able statesman,
but simply and intrinsically a great man. Rather
tall, very slender, and endowed with one of those
physiognomies so lively and so expressive of wit that
the absence of what is generally called good looks is
not regretted or even observed, he was a privileged
person at Court, brusque, sometimes sans facon also,
but so overflowing with true Esprit that his mere en-
trance into a room seemed to banish care and weari-
ness.
Such was Julius Andrassy — plucky, dashing, always
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"on deck," never jaded, never bored, but ever looking
as if life were the pleasantest comedy that could be
played, and as if sorrow and anxiety could not withstand
his caustic humor and wonderful talent for seeing
the pleasantest side of things, whatever came to pass.
But let me proceed from the dead to the living, to some
of those gray -haired men who are still at their posts, and
whose whole devotion to the Emperor, far from diminish-
ing with time, has increased with every passing year.
General-of-Cavalry Count Paar, who is the Emperor's
principal aide-de-camp, as well as the chief of his Mili-
tary Household, and who is more constantly at his side
than any other member of his suite, is perhaps the one
person who enjoys to a greater degree than any one
else the confidence of his Imperial Master.
Tall, with an air of extreme distinction and an ex-
pression at once slightly melancholy and a trifle cynical,
he bears himself somewhat listlessly and indolently a la
surface, but his handsome eyes can flash glances which
search the inmost soul of others, and his absolute sin-
cerity of character and of utterance is known to the
whole country. His impassive calm, his punctilious
courtesy, and his unalterable serenity are proverbial,
as is also his keen knowledge of the world and of social
and Court etiquette. The life of incessant activity and
change to which he is subjected is never permitted to
ruffle his temper in the slightest. The busy months
that he spends with the Emperor at Vienna, the con-
tinual changes from Schonbrunn to Godollo, Ischl,
Prague, or Ebensee, according to the duty or necessity
of the moment, the visits to foreign Courts, the fa-
tiguing weeks spent in attending the great autumnal or
spring manoeuvres, the everlasting succession of fttes
in which he is forced to take part, do not shake his im-
perturbability in the least, and this in itself makes him
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indispensable. Everywhere his tall, commanding figure
and finely modelled face are to be seen at the Emperor's
shoulder, while his knack of saying things gracefully,
and his total lack of hypocrisy, give all those who come
in contact with him a sense of bien etre and of confidence.
Nor is what I say of him conventional compliment ; it is
the genuine expression of a very universal opinion, to
which I am glad to add the tribute of an old and sincere
personal regard.
Prince Rudolph Lichtenstein, the present Grand-
Master -of -the -Court, is also a great favorite with the
Emperor and an exceedingly handsome man, ce qui ne
gdte rien. Gallant, courageous, and generous, he was
the principal cavalier of the late Empress, and was in-
trusted with the mission of accompanying her to Eng-
land and Ireland when she went there to hunt. His
attachment to Francis-Joseph, who holds him in the
highest esteem, is deep and unswerving.
Prince Hugo Dietrichstein, one of the Emperor's favor-
ite aides-de-camp, is a tall, graceful officer, remarkable
for the most winning smile and the courtliest bow to be
found throughout the Empire. He is also extremely well
favored, and, like most Austrian aristocrats, excellent-
ly versed in all sports.
I perceive that if I indulge myself in any more de-
scriptions of the Emperor's entourage I will be carried
far further than I intend, space being now, at the last,
a matter of some importance; but I cannot close this
little gallery of pen-portraits without a passing mention
of F. M. L. Baron von Beck, now Chief -of -Staff, and one
of the finest soldiers in Austria. He carries his grizzled
head with that air which almost invariably bespeaks
authority, and looks out over the Imperial armies
from his great height as over a fine standing crop,
the grain of which he can, at a sign, gather within the
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hollow of his hand and distribute where it is most
needed.
This notable man has friends everywhere, and few
enough enemies to have given rise to the report that he
has none — though that would be but a poor and un-
truthful compliment to pay to one of such worth as he.
To his credit, also, be it noted that he is one of those
military leaders who, possessed of a slow tongue and a
quick brain — than which there are few better equip-
ments for a soldier — has won the affection of all those
who serve or have served under his orders.
Among those belonging to his family, and upon whom
the love and affection of the Emperor is more particu-
larly centered, is his granddaughter, Archduchess Eliza-
beth, "Erzsi," as she is familiarly called, the only child
of his deeply mourned son, " Rudi," and who was brought
up under his personal care and supervision. Indeed,
the Emperor managed to find time even to direct her
studies and to devise her pleasures, and manifested so
great a jealousy of the trust confided to him by his
boy in the matter that he would not allow the child's
mother to take her anywhere out of his dominions, nor
yet to have any voice in the selection of little "Erzsi's "
Household.
Moreover, when the seventeen-year-old girl lost her
heart to a young cavalry officer, Prince Otto Windisch-
Graetz, the Emperor, after a violent struggle with his
ambition for her, rather than stand in the way of her
happiness, authorized her to make the marriage she
desired, and richly dowered her, although the bridegroom,
far from being of Imperial or Royal rank, did not even
belong to the Mediatized Families of Europe, but merely
to one of the great Houses of the Austrian Nobility.
The young Archduchess is, I hear, exceedingly happy
in her married life ; and the union has also been fortunate
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in a political sense, as it has put an end, once and for
all time, to those projects of the Separatists, or other
trouble-makers in Hungary's Parliament, who put her
forward as their candidate for the Throne of Hungary
on the death of the grandfather, to whom she is so
passionately devoted.
Her wedding was, as customary in the case of that of
every Princess of the Imperial House of Habsburg, pre-
ceded by what is known at Vienna as the Act of Re-
nunciation.
So much misconception exists, not only abroad, but
even in Austria, with regard to this ceremony of re-
nunciation that it may be just as well to explain what
it really means.
Placing her hand upon the Gospels, and in the pres-
ence of the Emperor, of the members of the Imperial
Family, and of the principal dignitaries of the Realm,
the bride-elect takes a vow to renounce all claim to
the precedence, rank, and rights to the Throne, which
may have been hers by birth, in order to share those of
her husband. And as Prince Otto Windisch-Graetz did
not belong to the Imperial Family, is a mere Noble, and
can never, even by the most remote possibility, be called
upon to succeed to the Crowns of Austro-Hungary>
Archduchess Elizabeth virtually renounced every pros-
pect to a Throne which she had until then possessed.
The succession to the Throne in Austro-Hungary is
governed partly by the Pragmatic Sanction and partly
by those "Family Statutes" of the House of Habsburg,
the tenor of which cannot be disclosed, those personages
not belonging to the reigning family who are acquainted
therewith, such as the Minister of the Imperial House-
hold, being bound, by the most solemn and iron-clad
oath, not to reveal their tenor or their range.
The Pragmatic Sanction itself is, of course, no secret.
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It was promulgated as far back as the reign of Emperor
Charles VI. of Germany, the last descendent in the male
line direct of the House of Habsburg, and consists of a
treaty or agreement between the Austrian and Hun-
garian moieties of his dominions, providing not only for
their perpetual union but likewise for the succession to
the Magyar Crown. Until that time the Hungarian suc-
cession had been governed by the laws of primogeniture,
women as well as men being capable of inheriting the
Crown.
Charles knew that, according to this provision, his
daughter, Maria-Theresia, would, in default of male is-
sue, immediately become Queen of Hungary upon his
death. He apprehended, however, that obstacles would
be raised to her becoming Empress of Germany, that
is to say, Ruler of the Austrian and German portions of
his dominions, and so caused it to be stipulated in the
Pragmatic Sanction that Austria and Hungary should
always be united and always ruled by one and the same
Sovereign.
On his death, his daughter, Maria-Theresia, became
immediately Queen Regnant of Hungary, and on the
strength of this Pragmatic Sanction laid immediate claim
to the Imperial Throne of Germany, a pretension which
was denied by a number of German Sovereigns, including
Frederick the Great of Prussia and the Elector of Bavaria.
Indeed, it was not until after many sanguinary wars that
she ultimately secured a species of compromise, by means
of which her husband, Duke Charles of Lorraine, was
elected and recognized as Emperor of Germany.
Kossuth and the Separatists in Austria deny the ex-
istence of this Pragmatic Sanction, declare that no copy
of it can be found in the State Archives at Pesth, and
even go so far as to insist that if there is really such a
document in existence the Hungarian signatures there-
A FUTURE EMPEROR. ARCHDUKE KARL-FRANZ,
SOX OF THE HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE,
ARCHDUKE OTTO
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
to are forgeries. Were there any foundation to this pre-
posterous assertion, which, I regret to state, is credit-
ed by many of their adherents, Archduchess Elizabeth
would, save for her act of renunciation, have become
entitled to the Crown of Hungary on her grandfather's
death, whereas the Throne of Austria, from which wom-
en were barred by the Salic law, would have gone to
the present Heir Apparent, Archduke Francis - Ferdi-
nand.
Every now and again the question of these mysterious
" Family Statutes " of the House of Habsburg crops
up in the national legislatures at Vienna and Buda-
Pesth, in spite of all the endeavors of the presiding
officers and the ministers present to prevent any dis-
cussion thereof.
The last time this occurred it was in connection with
the solemn act of renunciation by the Heir Apparent,
Archduke Francis-Ferdinand, of all rights of succession
to the Throne of Austro-Hungary for the children born
of his morganatic marriage with Countess Sophie Chotek.
On that occasion the Hungarian Ministers, in claim-
ing for the Archduke the right to renounce, in the name
of any children that he might have, their succession to
the Crown, declared that his act of renunciation was in
conformity with the " Family Statutes " of the House of
Habsburg. Thereupon several members of the Opposi-
tion protested that, in as much as the " Family Statutes "
of the House of Habsburg did not figure in the national
code of the Kingdom of Hungary, and had never been
sanctioned by either of the houses of the national legis-
lature at Buda-Pesth, which were, indeed, wholly igno-
rant of their character, they could not be regarded as
bearing upon the situation, or as exempting Francis-
Ferdinand from that provision of the Magyar code which
precludes parents from renouncing in the name of their
3"
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
children, born or unborn, rights, prerogatives, or pos-
sessions to which their offspring would become entitled.
No vote was taken about the matter, the discussion
was allowed to drop, and it is not probable that it will
be revived, for the animosity in Hungary towards the
Czechs is so intensely bitter that not even the most rabid
of Magyar Separatists would venture to put forward as
a candidate for the throne of St. Stephen any child of
Countess Chotek, who is a Czech.
The secrecy and likewise the rigor of these " Family
Statutes " of the House of Habsburg have something in
common with those laws that govern secret societies in
the United States and in the Orient. It has been by
virtue of their provisions that the Emperor has deprived
his kinsmen, the Archdukes John and Leopold-Salvator,
of their Imperial titles and prerogatives, reducing them
from the status of Princes of the Blood to that of mere
commoners, the one as John Orth, and the other as
Leopold Wolfling. While the causes which led the Em-
peror to take this action with regard to Archduke Leo-
pold are of recent and very universal knowledge, no one
even at the Court of Austria knows definitely the exact
reasons which led to this measure in the instance of
Archduke John, who, although one of the most brilliant
members of the Imperial Family, was suddenly expelled,
not only from that family, but also from the Empire, as
well as commanded to take a plebeian name and to dis-
appear.
Princesses, too, have experienced the severity of these
" Family Statutes " of the House of Habsburg, the case
of the ex-Crown Princess of Saxony, who has been tem-
porarily deprived by the Emperor of the status, rank,
and prerogatives of an Archduchess, which she inherit-
ed at her birth, being, doubtless, fresh in the memory
of all.
312
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Austrians are, without the possibility of a doubt, the
best riders and finest sportsmen in the world, and
Ffancis- Joseph is one of the most perfect horsemen and
sportsmen of his Empire.
I saw him once, at the finish of an extraordinarily
swift run with the hounds, come scatheless through a
misadventure which would have proved fatal to ninety-
nine and a half out of a hundred.
His left stirrup-leather gave way and broke, and, at
the pace we were going, few, indeed, would have escaped
being hurled out of the saddle, but he scarcely swerved,
and, hardly checking his horse to recover his equilibrium,
went on as if nothing had happened, his knees pressed a
bit closer into his hunter's flanks, thundering along, half-
stirrupless, with the utmost unconcern.
Nothing rebuts him in sport, and I have often ad-
mired his exemplary patience as I watched him plodding
conscientiously after a sly old dog fox (that led the pack
a tedious wind in and out, through an interminable
spinney, and dodged about till twilight and rain fell upon
us in exasperating unison), smiling as good-humoredly
as if we were having one of the glorious hours of cross-
country racing, over fence and fallow, in a delicious clip-
ping rush, without a check from find to finish.
He is careless of hail or rain, mire or slush, mist or
cold, snow, darkness, or frost, so long as there is a fine,
scenting wind, for there is not a man, I believe, who loves
hunting as he does, and yet no rider was ever gentler
and kinder to his horses than this ardent sportsman who
is so dashing and fiery in the field.
The Imperial stables, now under the supervision of
Count Kinsky, husband of Archduchess Marie Valerie's
girlhood friend, Princess Aglae Auersperg, are superb.
There the horses are quartered en princes, their blank-
ets, hoods, and quarter-pieces marked with the Imperial
3*3
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
crown and cipher, and their names blazoned in blue
and gold above their daintily nickelled mangers ; and it is
a joy forever to see the splendid animals, firm of muscle
beneath their shining, satiny skins, with their beautiful,
small, lean heads, their delicate, nervously twitching,
taper ears, their clean, slender, dainty legs, turning their
velvety eyes lovingly towards the tall figure of the Em-
peror as soon as his step sounds upon the marble aisle
dividing the luxurious loose-boxes.
Also, Francis- Joseph is immensely fond of a good
tramp through wood, stubble, and furrow, a gun thrown
within the crook of his arm, and looking keenly about
him for partridge, rabbit, quail, or pheasant, but he dis-
likes battues, which, like all true and loyal disciples of
Nimrod, he considers mere butchery, only consenting to
attend them when a foreign Sovereign visits him, and
such a display is de rigueur, though he denounces it as
"the prose of shooting," and that with sincere disgust.
He is a great votary of both flat and steeple-chase
racing, and makes a point of being present at the Freu-
denau spring and autumn meetings, especially when
"gentlemen riders" or officers are in the saddle, and he
is so excellent a judge of such matters that the mere
turn of the foot in a stirrup tells him the exact amount
of science possessed by a jockey, whether professional or
otherwise.
His eyes still shine with enthusiasm when the saddling-
bell sounds, when the ring is in its full rush of excite-
ment, and the great brotherhood of the turf crowds to-
gether to see the start, and follows the favorites, with
cheers and groans, as the case may be, over the stiff
fences, the terrible blackthorn hedges, the double post-
and-rails, and the artificial wall and bullfinches, for
which the Freudenau course is celebrated, and which
treat many to a purler; and although he would be
314
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
satisfied, perchance, to see the obstacles tamed down a
little for others, it is certain, too, that for himself he
•Would absolutely refuse to let them be touched, had he,
as he calls it, the luck of running steeple-chases. Every-
body rejoices to see him there, and affectionate glances
follow his tall form as he moves to his place in the Im-
perial tribune, which centres the grand-stand, at the
very minute when the bell clangs and clashes passion-
ately, and the names of the horses are hoisted on the
telegraph board.
Many of those present think, too, of the slender,
lovely Empress who used almost always to accompany
him on such occasions, looking like a white camellia in
her plain, sombre, tailor-made costume, smiling, radi-
ant, and full of racing interest, as became the best
horsewoman in Europe, while watching the desperate,
neck - breaking efforts of the steeple - chasers with her
deep, luminous, enthusiastic eyes, as the queens in olden
days watched the fierce tournaments of the lists.
The best shot, the best horseman, and the keenest
hunter of his Empire, Francis- Joseph, although past his
seventieth year, still braves the white fall of those slow,
softly descending Alpine snow-feathers which the chamois
use as a veil of preservation, and exposes himself, quite
undaunted, to the dense fogs of autumn and to the sud-
den plunge into frost which a mountaineer, such as he,
is well aware that he will encounter on the spurs of the
high ranges.
He knows his way, inch by inch, along those dangerous
passes, and at night is quite content to find a bed of hay,
a fire of pine branches, a meal of bread and cheese, and
a rough shelter in one of the huts of refuge, erected by
his orders and by those of the Empress, in places where
there is barely a precarious foothold around the tiny
wooden buildings.
3*5
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
His well-knit frame resists the influence of the cruel
air that can slay as surely as can a knife, and the cold
that makes the body numb and the veins swell painfully,
almost as well now as it did twenty-five years ago; and,
gripping his "Alpenstock" in one hand and his rifle in
the other, he climbs, stoutly and fearlessly, clad in the
Jager's plain, serviceable gray -and -green "Joppe" and
breeches that leave the knee bare — rejoicing to be still
able to match his strength and shrewd mountaineer's
wisdom against the perilous bastions, walls, and peaks
of his dear old friends, the Tyrolese, Upper Austrian, and
Styrian Alps.
The shooting-box of Murzsteg, built by himself in one
of the loveliest spots in the Styrian Alps, is, perchance,
dearer to his heart than any of the gorgeous Imperial
residences which have been his since his eighteenth year.
The forests that surround Murzsteg are magnificent.
The great trees rise from a wilderness of fragrant under-
growth and mountain-flowers, through which indescrib-
ably charming little by-paths seem to feel their way,
winding cautiously this way and that, now emerging
suddenly into the full sunlight of some open glade, and
now plunging back again into the rich, sweet depth of
shadow and the gloom of densely interlacing boughs,
where the silence is alone disturbed by the full, fresh
sound of running waters, the scamper of a hare, or the
feathery whir of brightly tinted wings. Close by rushes
the Miirz River, eternally white with foam, and through
the branches of the veteran timber the lofty peaks of the
" Hohe-Veitsch," the " Hocheck," and the " Kreuzwand "
shine like jewels, whether they are crowned with dazzling
summer lightning or powdered with fast-advancing au-
tumn snows.
The whole region round about, both the forest -lands
and the broad, intervening stretches of rosy heather and
316
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
golden broom, is alive with birds and woodland creatures,
and so surprisingly rich in game, including black-cock,
mountain-cock, chamois, and deer, that it is a veritable
paradise for sportsmen. Yet the arrival of large hunt-
ing parties seems almost a profanation of this quaint
and delightful retreat, with its ice-blue waters and
encircling mountains, so full of peace and solemn
grandeur.
The interior of the house is extremely artistic, espe-
cially in the sense that it is that of a hunting-box and
nothing else, thanks to the Emperor's taste and keen
sense of the fitness of things. The floors and walls are of
light and dark wood, and are ornamented in several in-
stances with exquisite marqueterie work in designs of
ferns, pine cones, and branches, oak leaves, and other
forest treasures. The hall, which has a southern expos-
ure, is decorated from floor to ceiling with hunting
trophies. From a rosace in the centre depends a huge
vulture shot some years ago by the Emperor; before
one of the windows a wild-cat, almost as big as a puma —
a victim to Crown-Prince Rudolf's rifle a short time be-
fore his death — stands in a menacing attitude, clawing
at a rough tree-trunk, and above the carved, wooden
mantel-piece a score of beautifully mounted chamois'
heads are grouped about that of an unusually splendid
"stag of ten."
On the ground floor, beside the hall, the dining, smok-
ing, and billiard rooms, are eight bedrooms for the Em-
peror's suite. Immediately above are the apartments
of the Emperor himself, those of his guests, and also those
once used by the Empress and by "Rudi," which are
still kept exactly as they were during the lifetime of the
occupants. All the furniture, both in the guest-rooms
and the Imperial suites, is made of a light, dainty, Amer-
ican juniper, and everywhere are to be admired the ex-
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
quisite wood-carvings of the gifted sculptor, Franz Wag-
ner.
As is always the case, the Emperor's rooms are the
simplest of all; so much so, indeed, that when the Ger-
man Kaiser last came to visit him at Murzsteg Francis-
Joseph, who had made a point of vacating them for him,
said to his confidential valet, with a little apologetic smile :
"You had better go down-stairs and bring up a few
things to make the place a little more Imperial!"
Above his bed hang twin, carved frames, the one con-
taining the following charming little poem, written by
Archduchess Marie Valerie, at the age of fourteen, to
celebrate her mother's birthday, which falls on Christ-
mas Eve. The figure of an angel standing on a cloud and
holding a newly born baby adorns the upper corner of
the manuscript, while below the signature is a remark-
ably good little sketch of Schloss Possenhofen, all furred
with Christmas snow.
Weihnacht wieder! Hart gefroren
Liegt der stille See,
Und im Sonnenscheine glitzert
Rings der frische Schnee.
In dem lieblich trauten Schlosse
Das am Ufer steht
Heut* ein Hauch von susser Freude
Durch die Herzen weht.
Denn ein Engel stieg vom Himmel
Leise in der Nacht
Hat als schonste Weihnachts' gabe
Tochterlein gebracht.
Und die Jahre fliegen leise
Aber rasch dahin
Und die Eltern sehn mit Freude
Sie zur Jungfrau bliihn
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
Driiben herrscht ein junger Kaiser
In dem Nachbarland
Als er's Magdlein kennen lernte
Freit' er ihre Hand
Und nun gehen sie durch's Leben
Liebend seit an seit
S'Magdlein bleibet Ihrem Manne
Treu in Freud' und Leid.
Und wenn auf des Kaiser's Haupte
Manchmal driickt die Kron'
1st fur seine Muh'n und Sorgen
Sie der schonste Lohn!
VALERIE.
Weihnachten, 1882.
The other frame contains an exquisite water-color
sketch of Empress Elizabeth as she appeared at a Court
ceremony for the first and only time after Crown-Prince
Rudolph's tragic death. None who saw her on that
evening will ever forget the impression her entrance cre-
ated, and I can do no better than to quote what a friend
wrote to me about it at the time:
' ' The Redouten Saal was transformed into a veritable
bower of flowers, among which softly gleamed the mel-
lowness of thousands of wax candles, and total silence
reigned until the doors were flung open to admit the Im-
perial party. Leaning on His Majesty's arm, Elizabeth
looked like a very incarnation of sorrow, but sorrow in
its most beautiful and strikingly poetical aspect, so that
one forgot, while gazing at her, the living, pulsating, tort-
ured, broken heart, and saw only the touching sweetness,
the pensive mournfulness of her lovely presence. Clad,
naturally, in deepest black and with a long, sable-hued
gossamer veil falling from a pointed jet diadem to the
very edge of her immense Manteau de Cour, she smiled
faintly now and again as she slowly advanced between
319
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
the double hedge of her bowing and curtseying guests,
and I assure you that the expression of her perfect feat-
ures, of her glorious eyes, was at once so startlingly poig-
nant and so inexpressibly beautiful that many of those
present were almost in tears, and found it difficult to con-
ceal their emotion. Evidently she herself was wonder-
ing why her life was henceforth to be like this pageant,
costly, empty, and brilliant, and what she had done to
deserve such a fate.
"Her very silence, the defect we all usually found in
her, suited her extraordinary charm that night, for she
seemed to embody the stillness, the mystery, the ethere-
ality of la femme faite Ange de Douleur, et Reine de tous les
cceurs, and as she inclined her small head, crowned with
its wealth of tawny braids, towards the groups that bent
before her, the careless, the frivolous, the happy, the old
and the young were alike smitten by a sudden pain, a
bitter regret, a sort of vague anguish."
The artist to whom is due this amazing aquarelle of
Elizabeth is a distinguished amateur, who painted it
from memory the day after witnessing the scene de-
scribed above, with no other aid than that of some pho-
tographs of an earlier date ; and yet it is without question
the finest and most sympathetic portrait ever made of
her. The Emperor caused several copies of it to be
made, but the original, as I have said already, hangs
above his plain, narrow little bed at Murzsteg, and he
sits often far into the night gazing sorrowfully at it, after
long hours passed in the splendid mountain and forest
haunts which they had loved to visit together, in the
beautiful Alpine autumn of the high ranges.
And now I will leave off!
. This book, beginning with an Emperor's babyhood
and ending with his lonely old age, so courageously and
nobly endured — with, as connecting links between the
320
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
first budding and the late autumnal tints of this grand
Imperial tree, many incomplete incidents of his tragic
life — is, alas, but a very inadequate sketch, and gives
but a very faint conception of what this great and good
man really is.
Francis-Joseph has, during the fifty-five long years of
his reign, gained many titles. He has been called "The
Good," "The Just," "The Chivalrous," "The Coura-
geous," "The Noble," and I how permit myself to add
to this list that of "A Keystone of Empire," which is
the fittest appellation for the one whom, I repeat, is the
greatest and best Sovereign Austria has ever known.
Napoleon III. said of him that he was the only mon-
arch in Eu,rope who, returning to his capital after defeat,
disaster, and loss of territory, was welcomed by his peo-
ple not only with unimpaired loyalty, but even with en-
hanced devotion, affection, and enthusiasm. His subjects
retain to this day a fealty which no "progressive" ideas
can ever wholly banish, a feeling of almost religious
homage, of surpassing reverence towards their Sovereign,
which has naught in common with the foolish confusion,
the disordered, feverish fretting, and carping discontent
of this age. Cynics might, perchance, attribute this to
mere climatic influence, set it down as a result of the
sense of physical well-being due to the air, pure as crystal
and strong as wine, blowing from the grand Alpine barrier
of ice and snow which forms on one side a rampart for
those lands that collectively we are wont to call Austria ;
those vast stretches of flower-filled meadows where the
cattle lie luxuriously, of blossoming orchards, of high
grass slopes, green as emerald, and fragrant pine-woods;
those broad plains of the North, glittering white and
frozen half the year, and those shining, sunlit landscapes
of the southern provinces that throughout the dreariest
months are rich and red with roses, golden and purple
'" 321
A KEYSTONE OF EMPIRE
with fruit, and rendered stately by tall palms, through
whose slender stems is caught the soft sparkle of the
deep-blue sea.
Be this as it may, the serious, sweet luminance with
which, as with a halo, the love of his subjects surrounds
the Emperor is a beautiful and a gracious thing to be-
hold. So let me also repeat here in conclusion, and from
the deepest depth of my heart, the first line of the great
hymn which greets him wherever he appears, whether
at home or abroad, in moments of sadness or of joy, of
hope or of despair —
"Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser!"
THE END
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
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