VIII

Prince Charles purchases a hotel in Paris—Birth of Sidonie—The insurrection in Flanders—Winter in Vienna—Joseph II. and his Court—First representation ofDon Juan—-Haydn and Mozart—The Comtesse de Kinsky—Prince Charles’s affection for her—-Hélène’s departure for Warsaw.

The Prince de Ligne and his daughter-in-law were in entire sympathy. The young Princess enjoyed living at Bel Œil when her father-in-law was there, but she disliked Brussels, their winter residence. We already know, by her own confession, that Hélène was as “obstinate as the Pope’s mule,” and she had not given up her purpose of settling in Paris. Her husband disliked the idea of the Paris life, so little in harmony with his tastes; he had never lived in France, and, a stranger there, he feared comparison with the supreme elegance, the light witty tone, whichdistinguished the brilliant gentlemen at the Court of Versailles. But, as the saying goes, “What woman wills, God wills;” Prince Charles ended by giving way, and he bought in September 1784 a fine mansion, situated in the Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin.[43]

It is needless to say with what delight Hélène went to live in Paris. She found most of her old convent friends, and, presented under the auspicies of her father-in-law, she was welcomed and entertained on every side.

Received everywhere into the most brilliant circles—at Chantilly, the Prince de Condé’s; at Petit Bourg, the Duchesse de Bourbon’s; at the Temple, the Prince de Conti’s—all welcomed the young Princess, who gave herself up entirely to a vortex of pleasure and success. Captivated by the charm and amiability of the young men who surrounded her with their attentions, Hélène gave way to her natural instinct of coquetry; she distinguished no onein particular but tried to please all; when at home, she was occupied with her toilet and saw very little of her husband, who but rarely accompanied her into society, absorbed as he was in his studies. The steady character of the Prince, his taste for study, and the very German and romantic turn of his mind, formed a marked contrast with the light, bantering, superficial tone assumed by the courtiers. Hélène, with the giddiness of youth, decided in her own mind that her husband was tiresome, and had it not been for fear of offending her father-in-law she would not have spared him a little bantering.

Prince Charles’s position in Paris as husband of a pretty and fashionable woman was rather a trying one. With a father whose sparkling wit made him everywhere take a leading part in society, he was thrown into the shade, and reduced to a secondary position, which, however, his modesty would not have objected to had he not felt that it lowered him in his wife’s estimation.When he married, it was without any feeling of love for Hélène, whom he had hardly seen, but he soon felt a tender and almost paternal affection for her. He had allowed her the greatest freedom at Bel Œil, at the same time seeking to develop in her a taste for serious occupations hitherto rather checked by her intense love of pleasure. He was beginning to succeed, but these three winters in Paris almost annulled his efforts, or at least greatly compromised their success. Hélène was too young to understand and appreciate her husband’s superior intelligence and high character.

However, a long-desired event brought the married pair nearer to each other for a while. On the 8th of December 1786 Hélène gave birth to a little girl, who received the name of Sidonie. This was a great joy to Prince Charles, and he easily obtained Hélène’s consent to go to Bel Œil in the early spring, instead of returning to Paris. She consented the more willingly that herfather-in-law had left Paris for the Russian Court, whither he had been summoned by an invitation from the Empress Catherine.

Before starting the Prince had had ample time to construct the bower of roses he had promised for Charles’s children, and as early as the month of March a handsome Brabant nurse, carrying a pink and white baby, might be seen in the gardens of Bel Œil. Everything seemed to promise a happy summer, and in spite of the somewhat unrestricted authority exercised over the nurse and baby by the Dowager-Princess, which was a source of annoyance to the young mother, harmony and peace prevailed at Bel Œil.

All of a sudden, in the middle of the summer (1787), a serious insurrection broke out in Flanders. It had been secretly brewing for some time past. Joseph II. had the mania of meddling in everything; he generally had the best intentions, but, cleverer in theory than in practice, he often neglected to ascertain whether a system usefulin itself might not become dangerous if applied without any previous preparation. The reforms he tried to introduce into Flanders are a striking example of this sort of mistake.

The Flemish people, who had long been under the dominion of Spain, were bigoted in their religion, and as deeply attached to their ancient political privileges as they were to those of the Church. After the death of Marie-Thérèse, Joseph II. began by abolishing certain processions, pilgrimages, and a number of confraternities. These customs and institutions, which were certainly useless and far too numerous, were closely interwoven with the habits of the people, and their abolition was a source of great offence. The clergy were not less offended at the decree that suppressed the Bollandists, numerous convents and abbeys, and all the diocesan seminaries.

Finally the Emperor, still animated with the most liberal intentions, thought that “it was his charitable duty to extend towardsProtestants the effects of that civil tolerance which, without inquiring into a man’s belief, considers only his capacity citizen.” He accordingly granted them a civil existence—a privilege which till then had been refused to them.

The Bishops loudly protested against these measures, and were severely reprimanded. Not content with attacking the privileges of the Church, Joseph II. upset the judicial organisation of the country, and in a way suppressed the nationality of the Netherlands, which were declared to be an Austrian province, divided into nine circles, governed by anintendantand Austrian commissioners, solely dependent on the Viennese Court. This was trampling underfoot the “Joyeuse Entrée” (Joyous Entry), that grand charta of the privileges of Brabant and the other Flemish States.[44]

The irritation was at its height, for Joseph had by his various reforms succeeded in alienating every class of his subjects.

A barrister of Brussels, Van der Noot, published an extremely violent manifesto, demonstrating the illegality of the innovations introduced by Joseph II. This libel was approved of by the States,[45]but the author, in danger of being arrested by the Government, fled to England. It was at the very moment when the revolution was being fomented that the de Ligne family, alarmed at the agitation going on in Belgium, hastened to join Prince Charles at Vienna, whither he had been summoned by Marshal Lascy. An army, destined to fight the Turks in the ensuing spring, was already being organised by the Emperor’s secret orders. The Princesses de Ligne reached Vienna at the end of thesummer. Hélène had made a short stay there at the time of her marriage, and had not retained an agreeable recollection of the place. The Viennese manners and customs differed too much from the French to suit her taste. She would infinitely have preferred spending the winter in her hotel at Paris; but her husband’s duties detaining him in Vienna, she dared not make the request.

The Emperor of Germany’s Court did not display the brilliant aspect which might have been expected from the most important European power.[46]The simple architecture of his palace conveyed no idea of a sovereign’s residence. A detachment of theViennese garrison mounted guard, and a fewtrabansposted at the inner doors superintended the management and good order of the interior. Joseph II.’s household was very economically conducted. He had, however, grand Crown officials, such as grand-master, lord high chamberlain, grand-equerry, etc. But they only fulfilled their duties on gala days. In spite of the plainness and simplicity of the Viennese Court, the personages who composed it were of very high standing; there were many reigning princes, brothers of kings or electors, in the service of the Emperor, and a crowd of great nobles, such as the Princes de Ligne, d’Aremberg, de Lichtenstein, Esterhazi, Colorado, Palfy,[47]and others, who by their rank and future were almost equal to their sovereign. When he chose, the Emperor “knew how to impart to this Court, which usually had the appearance of a convent or a barrack, all the pompand dignity worthy of the palace of Marie-Thérèse.

Hélène witnessed for the first time the New Year’s festivities at Vienna. On that day most of the Hungarian magnates[48]came to Court in their elegant costumes, decked out with their handsomest jewels; the Prince Esterhazi, among others, was mounted on a richly caparisoned horse whose saddle-cloth was studded with diamonds. The Prince’s costume was as rich as his horse’s trappings. “I could not look at him,” Hélène says; “he dazzled me.” The Emperor Joseph, so simple in private life, wore a full-dress uniform embroidered with gold, and his coat, his orders, and his hat glittered with eighteen hundred thousand livres[49]worth ofdiamonds; the buttons, the fastenings, the epaulets, the braid, and the button of his hat were one mass of diamonds. On that day the Court servants and those of the nobility wore a livery of silk embroidered with gold and silver.

The Prince de Ligne has left an interesting portrait of Joseph II., with whom he had been on terms of the closest intimacy. A year before the commencement of the Emperor’s reign, Lord Malmesbury asked the Prince de Ligne what he thought of him. “As a man,” replied the Prince, “he possesses great merit and talent; as Prince he will always be tortured by ambitions which he will be unable to satisfy; his reign will be a sort of perpetual and vain longing to sneeze.”

The Emperor Joseph was fond of the society of amiable and distinguished women, but no love intrigue ever arose in his intimate circle. The Princesse Kinsky, born a Hohenzollern, and her sister, the Princesse Clary,[50]were both conspicuous at Court. The firstwas simple and affable, had much learning, possessed a sound judgment, and was passionately fond of reading and conversation. The second, modest, gentle, and gracious, was a better listener than her sister, and her pliant disposition imparted great charm and ease to her society. The Emperor had given the Princesse Kinsky a very fine apartment in his palace of the Haut Belvédère.[51]It was there that the choicest Viennese society, both of men and women, would meet every Thursday. As a great favour Hélène was admitted to this circle, and she has traced a few portraits of these ladies—amongst others, that of the Princesse Charles de Lichtenstein, born Princesse d’Œttingen, who was the darling of the Belvédère society. She was exquisitely beautiful, and wrote marvellously well. Her letters, nearly all written in French, overflowed with wit; she expressed herself with elegance; and her firm and reliable character,her amiable and cultivated mind, so won the heart of the Prince de Ligne that she became his favourite sister-in-law.

The Comtesse Ernest de Kaunitz,[52]sister of the Princesse Charles, was plain, but witty and lively. She would often provoke a discussion, for she loved an argument, and excelled in the vivacity and archness of her repartee. The Princesse François de Lichtenstein, born Steinberg, completed the little circle. Second sister-in-law of the Prince de Ligne, she pleased him less than the first; she had an exalted idea of her rank and name, and of the consideration that was due to her. Serious and dignified, but at the same time kind and benevolent, she was constantly occupied with charitable works, and it was difficult to escape the lottery tickets, concerts, and collections for the poor she imposed upon every one.

The only stranger admitted into this society was the Duc de Braganza. The Marshal de Lascy, the Prince de Kaunitz, the Prince de Ligne, and several other gentlemen of the Court frequently came, and the Emperor Joseph never missed a Thursday at the Belvédère.

In his youth Joseph II. did not give much promise of amiability, but he changed entirely when he became Emperor. His travels, his campaigns, the society of distinguished women, had formed his character and cured him of a shyness engendered by the extreme severity of his education.

The greatest freedom existed in the Belvédère circle; the Emperor laid aside his rank and allowed the ladies to speak with a frankness that sometimes exceeded the bounds of respect.

“The things I have heard said to Joseph by the ladies of his society are simply inconceivable,” writes the Prince de Ligne. “One of them said, referring to the execution of arobber who had been hanged by his orders that day: ‘How could your Majesty condemn him after your robbery of Poland?’

“It was at the moment of the first division of that country.

“‘My mother, who enjoys all your confidence, ladies,’ he replied, ‘and who goes to Mass as often as you do, has long ago made up her mind on that question. I am only her first subject.’”

The Emperor was fond of receiving confidences, and was safe and discreet, though he was fond of meddling. His manners were agreeable, he had some brilliancy of conversation, a great deal of natural wit, and was a pleasant narrator. The following is an anecdote he was fond of repeating. When Marie-Thérèse was so closely pursued by her enemies that hardly a town was left to her in Germany, not knowing where to go for her confinement, she retired to Presburg and assembled the States. She was young and handsome, with a dazzling complexion, and appeared before theHungarianpaladinsclad in a long mourning garment, which set off the radiancy of her beauty; her son, two or three years of age, was clasped in her arms. “I confide him to you,” she said, presenting the child, who began to cry. The Emperor, in telling this story, always added that his mother, who knew the way to produce an effect, gave him a sly pinch as she presented him to the Hungarians; touched by the cries of the child, who seemed to implore their compassion, “my bearded heroes drew their swords, and swore on their Turkish blades to defend both mother and son to the last drop of their blood.”[53]

The little group that met at the Belvédère did not represent the only society in Vienna; many other houses threw open their doors. The Princesse Lubomirska,[54]commonlycalled the Princesse Maréchale, held some of the most brilliant receptions. Her original and ready wit, and the piquancy of her manner, imparted a certain liveliness to the character of her “salon.” She forebade all talk of war or politics at her house. “No politics,” she said, “in the drawing-room, where the men are more women than we are.”

A great many balls were given in Vienna, and they were always very animated, for the Viennese were passionately fond of dancing. They waltzed so furiously and with such rapidity that at first Hélène, though a beautiful dancer, was made quite giddy by the pace. She, however, soon became accustomed, like others, never to rest for a moment as long as the waltz lasted.

The balls of the Princesse Lubomirska were delightful; they always began and ended witha polonaise, a kind of measured march, interrupted at intervals by a gracefulbalancéor swinging movement. “When the elderly people wish to join in the dance they ask for a polonaise,” says the Prince de Ligne, “and then the good people perform the figures, and move round with a contented smile on their faces, as they recollect the good old times, and the way they used to smile. The young people are entirely taken up with the present, of which they do not care to lose a moment.” This dance displayed to advantage the elegance and grace of the figure. Hélène excelled in it, and took a patriotic pride in carrying off the palm.

The Princesse Charles was passionately fond of music, and had a box at the Court theatre.Don Juanhad just been given with great success at Prague, in honour of the visit of the Duchess of Tuscany, the wife of Leopold. Mozart had in person directed the rehearsals. The Emperor Joseph, about to leave for the army, pressed Mozart to returnto Vienna to get up the opera there at once. The rehearsals were rapidly got through, and the representation was given before a large audience. Hélène was present, and all the Viennese nobility witnessed the performance.Don Juanwas admirably sung, but the public, with few exceptions, of which Hélène was one, remained cold throughout. The Emperor, who thought the music admirable, was vexed at the indifference of the audience.

“It is a divine work,” he said to Mozart, whom he had summoned to his box, “but it is not the sort of thing for my Viennese!”

“We must give them time to appreciate it,” modestly replied the author. “It suited the Prague people better; but I composed it only for myself and my friends.”

On leaving the theatre some of the spectators went to the house of the Comtesse de Thun, and they were warmly discussing the new work when Haydn entered. Every one was of a different opinion, and though admitting for the most part that the music borethe impress of genius, all declared that in some parts it was obscure and incomprehensible. Haydn was chosen as judge. “I am not in a position to decide in such a learned dispute,” said he with malicious humility; “all I know is that Mozart is the greatest musician living.”

The concerts at Vienna were numerous and most magnificent. The Emperor had a passion for instrumental music. Mozart and Haydn’s[55]symphonies were played with rare perfection by an excellent orchestra, led by Salieri.[56]It was likewise in the spring of 1787 that theSeven Wordswere given for the first time—an oratorio which is looked upon as Haydn’s masterpiece.

It is evident that Hélène might have spenta most agreeable winter in Vienna, but she did not like Viennese society. A Parisian at heart, she felt there entirely out of her element. Her husband, on the other hand, who had known all the families about Court from childhood, was infinitely more at home in Vienna than in Paris. He was on the most intimate terms with all the young married women who were friends of his sisters. One of them in particular treated him with the affectionate familiarity of an old playfellow; this was the Comtesse Kinsky, born a Dietrichstein, and daughter-in-law to the Princess presiding at the Belvédère. It would have been difficult to meet with a more fascinating woman, and her romantic story added greatly to her charm. Comte Kinsky’s parents and her own had agreed on a marriage between their children without consulting them on the subject. The young Count was garrisoned in a small Hungarian town, and only arrived in time for the marriage ceremony. Immediately afterwardshe conducted his young wife home, kissed her hand, and said: “Madame, we have obeyed our parents; and I must confess it is with regret that I leave you; but my affections have long been engaged to a woman without whom I cannot live, and to whom I must now return.” A post-chaise was at the door of the church; the Count drove off and never returned. Comtesse Kinsky was therefore neither maid, wife, nor widow, and the dangers of this peculiar position were enhanced by her extreme beauty, which it would have been difficult to outrival. She united to her external charms a cultivated mind and an excellent heart. Hélène often met her at the Comtesse de Thun’s, who was an intimate friend of the de Lignes, and whose house was their habitual rendezvous.

Comte François de Dietrichstein,[57]Madamede Kinsky’s brother, was a great friend of Prince Charles, with whom he had been brought up. The peculiar position of the Countess rendered this intimacy very hazardous, and Prince Charles’s tender affection for her partook very much of the nature of love. With a woman’s quick instinct, Hélène divined between her husband and the beautiful Countess a secret tie, the nature of which she could not make out, the strictest propriety being observed on both sides. We must admit that, in spite of little Sidonie’s birth, which for a moment drew the pair more closely together, they were becoming very indifferent towards each other. The Prince had not forgotten the contemptuous manner with which his wife had treated him in Paris, and he was not sorry to show her that in Vienna he played quite a different part. In short, neither one nor the other had made a love match. Social conventions and a similarity of tastes had conduced to a certain degree of friendship; but would that suffice to guardeither against any warmer sentiment that might intervene?

And so the winter passed. The revolution in Flanders had assumed alarming proportions, and there could be no question of returning to Bel Œil. Prince Charles, who had rejoined his regiment, served under General de Lascy’s orders, and had left Vienna for some time. No sooner had he taken his departure than Hélène wrote to ask his permission to join her uncle at Warsaw, where the Diet was about to meet. Some important business with the Prince-Bishop served as a pretext for the journey. The authorisation was easily granted, on condition that she should leave little Sidonie under the care of her grandmother; and Hélène left Vienna in September 1788.

FOOTNOTES:[43]This hotel occupied the whole of the space between the Rue de Provence and the Rue de la Victoire.[44]Amongst others, the privileges of Hainault were most curious. We find there the formula of the ancient oath which the Emperor took at his inauguration as Comte de Hainault.[45]The States of Hainault took an active part in the rebellion, and refused in October 1788 to vote the subsidies demanded by the Emperor. They had been mortally offended when an Austrian Commissioner superseded their former governor and grand bailiff, the Prince of Aremberg.[46]The House of Lorraine had greatly contributed to banish the severe etiquette which till then prevailed at the Viennese Court.Francis the First, father of Marie-Antoinette, invited to his table the principal Crown officials, and allowed the most perfect freedom. Marie-Thérèse admitted to her intimacy most of the ladies of her Court; she even during the summer paid frequent visits to several of them. She might be seen, knitting and walking in the gardens, or reading in an arbour, unattended by any of her ladies. Marie-Antoinette had therefore from her infancy been accustomed to those habits of ease and familiarity which she carried to France, and which caused her to be so severely censured.[47]The Princesse Euphémie de Ligne married, 11th September 1798, Jean-Baptiste Gabriel, the eldest son of the Comte de Palfy.[48]The guard of Hungarian nobles only escorted the Emperor on great state occasions. It was supported by the Hungarian States, who took great pride in the beauty of the horses and splendour of the uniforms.The Polish guard, created after the first Polish division (1772), was composed of young noblemen, and vied in brilliancy with the Hungarian guard.[49]Seventy-two thousand pounds.[50]Mother-in-law of the Princesse Christine de Ligne.[51]A small palace built by Prince Eugène in one of the suburbs of Vienna.[52]Daughter-in-law of the famous Prince de Kaunitz, Chancellor of the Empire under Marie-Thérèse. He had retained office under Joseph, and was one of the most influential persons at Court.[53]Fragments of the Prince de Ligne’sUnedited Memoirs, published in theRevue Nouvelle, 1840, and by Albert Lacroix at Brussels.[54]The Princesse Lubomirska was a cousin of the King Stanislaus-Augustus. He frequently mentions her in his correspondence with Madame Geoffrin under the name of Aspasia. She was a Czartoryiska by birth, and alternately resided at Vienna, Warsaw, and at her magnificent estate of Lancut. A large part of the Princess’s lands was situated in Austrian Galicia.[55]Mozart was appointed to the Emperor’s chapel in 1780. Joseph II. was very fond of him, and although his salary was very small, he always refused the advantageous offers made by other sovereigns, among others the King of Prussia. Haydn was also attached to the Emperor’s chapel.[56]Salieri, chapel-master and music-director to the Emperor at Vienna.[57]The Comte François-Joseph de Dietrichstein, born 28th April 1767, was private counsellor and chamberlain to the Austrian Emperor. He filled the post of Major-General in the Engineers during the first wars against the French republic, and it was he who in 1800 concluded with Moreau the armistice of Parsdorf.

[43]This hotel occupied the whole of the space between the Rue de Provence and the Rue de la Victoire.

[44]Amongst others, the privileges of Hainault were most curious. We find there the formula of the ancient oath which the Emperor took at his inauguration as Comte de Hainault.

[45]The States of Hainault took an active part in the rebellion, and refused in October 1788 to vote the subsidies demanded by the Emperor. They had been mortally offended when an Austrian Commissioner superseded their former governor and grand bailiff, the Prince of Aremberg.

[46]The House of Lorraine had greatly contributed to banish the severe etiquette which till then prevailed at the Viennese Court.Francis the First, father of Marie-Antoinette, invited to his table the principal Crown officials, and allowed the most perfect freedom. Marie-Thérèse admitted to her intimacy most of the ladies of her Court; she even during the summer paid frequent visits to several of them. She might be seen, knitting and walking in the gardens, or reading in an arbour, unattended by any of her ladies. Marie-Antoinette had therefore from her infancy been accustomed to those habits of ease and familiarity which she carried to France, and which caused her to be so severely censured.

[46]The House of Lorraine had greatly contributed to banish the severe etiquette which till then prevailed at the Viennese Court.

Francis the First, father of Marie-Antoinette, invited to his table the principal Crown officials, and allowed the most perfect freedom. Marie-Thérèse admitted to her intimacy most of the ladies of her Court; she even during the summer paid frequent visits to several of them. She might be seen, knitting and walking in the gardens, or reading in an arbour, unattended by any of her ladies. Marie-Antoinette had therefore from her infancy been accustomed to those habits of ease and familiarity which she carried to France, and which caused her to be so severely censured.

[47]The Princesse Euphémie de Ligne married, 11th September 1798, Jean-Baptiste Gabriel, the eldest son of the Comte de Palfy.

[48]The guard of Hungarian nobles only escorted the Emperor on great state occasions. It was supported by the Hungarian States, who took great pride in the beauty of the horses and splendour of the uniforms.The Polish guard, created after the first Polish division (1772), was composed of young noblemen, and vied in brilliancy with the Hungarian guard.

The Polish guard, created after the first Polish division (1772), was composed of young noblemen, and vied in brilliancy with the Hungarian guard.

[49]Seventy-two thousand pounds.

[50]Mother-in-law of the Princesse Christine de Ligne.

[51]A small palace built by Prince Eugène in one of the suburbs of Vienna.

[52]Daughter-in-law of the famous Prince de Kaunitz, Chancellor of the Empire under Marie-Thérèse. He had retained office under Joseph, and was one of the most influential persons at Court.

[53]Fragments of the Prince de Ligne’sUnedited Memoirs, published in theRevue Nouvelle, 1840, and by Albert Lacroix at Brussels.

[54]The Princesse Lubomirska was a cousin of the King Stanislaus-Augustus. He frequently mentions her in his correspondence with Madame Geoffrin under the name of Aspasia. She was a Czartoryiska by birth, and alternately resided at Vienna, Warsaw, and at her magnificent estate of Lancut. A large part of the Princess’s lands was situated in Austrian Galicia.

[55]Mozart was appointed to the Emperor’s chapel in 1780. Joseph II. was very fond of him, and although his salary was very small, he always refused the advantageous offers made by other sovereigns, among others the King of Prussia. Haydn was also attached to the Emperor’s chapel.

[56]Salieri, chapel-master and music-director to the Emperor at Vienna.

[57]The Comte François-Joseph de Dietrichstein, born 28th April 1767, was private counsellor and chamberlain to the Austrian Emperor. He filled the post of Major-General in the Engineers during the first wars against the French republic, and it was he who in 1800 concluded with Moreau the armistice of Parsdorf.

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