XIII

Prince Charles’s will—Hélène receives the news of her husband’s death—Departure for Werky—Hélène marries Count Potocki.

The unhappy Prince de Ligne had immediately sent to Bel Œil the necessary instructions for his son’s last wishes to be fulfilled, but the victory of Jemappes, which ceded the whole of Belgium to the French, prevented the de Ligne family from returning to Bel Œil, now in the hands of the enemy. Prince Charles’s wishes were contained in a will written shortly before his death. We shall see that he instinctively felt he would fall a victim in the course of this war. Perhaps, indeed, weary of life, he sought death, for he seemed to brave it; at all events the deepest melancholy overshadows the following pages:—

Prince Charles de Ligne’s Will.

“As I shall most probably be killed, if not in this war at least in some other, I wish my body to be recovered and my funeral to be conducted with all the honours of war, and with the greatest pomp—military, of course.

“I wish my body to be carried to Bel Œil, after having been embalmed, so as not to incommode any one, for I desire to be laid with my good ancestors, who from father to son have all been honest men.

“I desire that my heart be wrapped up separately in a handkerchief which shall have belonged to her I love, and which I beg her to give for that purpose. As she has always possessed my heart during my lifetime, I wish it, after my death, to be as happy as a heart can be in the absence of the beloved one, that is to say, in company with something that has been her’s. I beg her to embroider on the first corner of the handkerchiefAlona;on the secondTendresse delicieuse; on the thirdIndissoluble; and on the fourth the 21st September 1787, and the date of my death.

“I.—The whole of my collection of engravings, my collection of original drawings, and in general all the contents of my portfolios, are to be sold to the best purchaser. One will have to see in what country the sale will be most advantageous, whether in Paris, Vienna, London, or Amsterdam.

“Nota bene.—Should any of my family wish to have these, he can take them at the estimated value, which, however, cannot be less than a hundred thousand German florins; for the drawings are really priceless, as I have none of inferior value, and all are recognised originals. This will, therefore, bring in a clear sum of a hundred thousand florins, which will be completely my own, and quite independent of the succession due to my natural heirs, which I leave to them according to law. This sum of a hundred thousand florins is to be divided into twoparts: eighty thousand are to be sunk in an annuity for the benefit of my natural daughter Christine, so that there will be eight thousand florins a year for her keep and education, which, up to the age of fifteen, may be five hundred florins, and a thousand florins up to the age of twenty, at which time she will probably be married, and can then spend her money as she chooses: In such a manner, however, that she shall not spend more than eight thousand florins; and that all the money saved on this sum, up to the age of twenty or five-and-twenty, if she does not marry before, shall be placed out at four or five per cent interest; this will become her children’s property, care being taken always to add the interest to the capital.

“II.—Should she die without children, Norokos is to be her heir. As I am the adopted father of Norokos, the Turkish child I found abandoned during the war, the remaining sum of twenty thousand florins outof the hundred thousand realised by the sale shall be sunk in the same way on his account. The directions as to its use are the same as for little Christine. Should he die without children, Christine is to be his heir. I recommend their marrying, if they have any inclination one for the other; it is my greatest wish, and I beg my sister Christine to encourage this. I appoint her their guardian, and in default of my sister Christine, I appoint Madame la Comtesse Thérèse Dietrichstein, formerly married to Comte de Kinsky. I bequeath also to little Christine the portrait of her mother, painted by Le Clerc, and the chain I wear round my neck, with the following words on the clasps: ‘Ces liens me sont chers’ (these ties are precious to me). I beg her never to part with it, but always to wear it as a remembrance of myself and of the person who gave it to me.

“III.—My dispositions for the servants.

“I bequeath to Norokos my damaskeenedTurkish gun with gold mountings, and my sabre with the steel guard—the one I carried during this war, in order that he may remember that it is to war he owes his condition; that he must look upon a military career as his fortune, his element; and upon the army as his country.

“IV.—I bequeath to my father the small painting by Le Clerc and M. Duvivier’s drawing, both representing the fight at Pösig, and I beg that my crosses of the orders of Merit and that of Saint George be suspended from them, since I won them by my father’s example; and as also I owe the happiness of having acquired some friends in the army through listening to all Lieutenant Wolff said to my father when dying, and remembering it all my life.

“V.—I bequeath to my sister Christine all my framed drawings, with the miniatures, cameos, and small frames.

“VI.—I bequeath to my daughter Sidonie her mother’s portrait, so that she may remembernot to follow her example, and the Turkish sabre given me by Prince Potemkin, which she is always to keep in her room, so that her children may understand that I intend them to become soldiers; when her son fights his first battle, in which, I trust, he will distinguish himself, she will give him this sabre from me.

“VII.—I bequeath to Madame de Kinsky, who was Countess Dietrichstein by birth, all the framed engravings I have in my apartment at Bel Œil, and also the chain I wear round my neck which was given me by her dearest friend; I venture, on this account, to beg that she will wear it all her life, in remembrance of one whose happiness was bound up with that of Madame de Kinsky; this I positively affirm.

“VIII.—I bequeath to Madame la Princesse de Lichtenstein, a Mandesch by birth, several things I have at Brussels, which will be described later on, and besides these my watch, as a token that the happiesthours it has told are those I spent with her, and that to the very last I thought of her as a friend whose place in my heart was next to the one I have always adored.

“IX.—I bequeath to the Princess Jablonowska, Countess Czaski by birth, several things I have at Brussels, which will hereafter be named, and also the ring I always wear with the motto ‘Indissoluble,’ the small portfolio with the chain, and the other portfolios or caskets containing letters and manuscripts written by myself. I give this last proof of my confidence to her who has most claims on my gratitude for past kindness, who has best understood the nature of my thoughts, of my troubles,—in short, to a true friend, whom I am sure not to forget even in the other world.

“X.—I bequeath to the Princess Linowska, Thun by birth, my fine edition of Shakespeare’s works, and the best English horse in my stable, on condition that it will be kept exclusively for her use.

“XI.—I bequeath to Mademoiselle Caroline de Thun my eight handsome silver candlesticks, and my handsome coffee-pot, and besides this an annuity of twenty ducats, in order that she may procure for herself wherever she goes, and even in the house which she most frequents, the best arm-chair or couch that can possibly be made.

“XII.—I bequeath to Madame de Woina[112]a table and a tea-service, in order that she may remember the pleasure I had in going to take tea with her; also two Turkish sabres for her children, Maurice and Felix.

“XIII.—I bequeath to my good friend Poniatowski, my sabre set with Marshal Laudon’s stone, and also the shoulder belt, requesting him to wear it should he meet the enemy, in honour of one who to save his life would willingly have sacrificed his own. Also my fine horse Winer, so that he may be cared for all his life.

“XIV.—I bequeath to my brother Louis the King of Poland’s sabre and Marlborough’s pistols.

“XV.—I bequeath to my friend François, Comte de Dietrichstein, the arms found with me if I am killed, or that belong to me should I die a natural death, excepting those disposed of by special legacies; I beg him to collect and distribute the above-named legacies, and I am certain that he will not leave my body to the enemy. Should, however, an accident intervene, such as his being wounded himself, he must neglect nothing in having it reclaimed, with the chains and other things I wear on my person.

“XVI.—The portraits of Mesdames de Kinsky, Lichtenstein, Jablonowska, Linowska, and Caroline, as well as Poniatowski’s and that of Madame de Woina, which I request may be obtained, shall be placed in my apartment in the tower at Bel Œil, where I have already placed the coloured prints belonging to Madame de Kinsky. My wife’s portraitis to be previously removed and placed in the lumber-room. This chamber is to become a Temple to Friendship, and over the door shall be inscribed the words:Abode of the inseparable.

“I request that my bust shall be placed on a pedestal in the centre of the tower, and turned in the direction of Madame de Kinsky’s portrait, and I beg my father to compose and have engraved on this pedestal some verses describing the happiness I have enjoyed in her society; but they must not contain any praise of myself; under each portrait he will write in verse a description of the person represented.

“XVII.—Arrangements for my household (not copied).

“XVIII.—I bequeath to Madame de Kinsky my good dog Tristan, that he may be taken good care of; he has been treated by me as I was by her, like a good and ever-faithful dog.”

Note added by the Countess Dietrichstein.—“The body was embalmed, and, consideringthe circumstances, sent to Bel Œil by mail coach. A Mass was said at the headquarters at Boux, in the presence of all the officers; and orders were given that the last honours should be rendered to his memory on the passage of the coffin through Mons, where he was well known and beloved.

“In order to carry out his wishes as much as possible, the handkerchief will be placed in his coffin; the date he asks for is unfortunately from the 21st of September 1787 to the 14th of September 1792.”

Notwithstanding the mysterious reserve with which the Prince expresses himself, it is difficult not to believe that Madame de Kinsky was the secret object of his deep attachment. On reading his last wishes, so imbued with nobleness, tenderness, and generosity, we wonder how Hélène could have so misunderstood him, and obliged him as it were to transfer his affection to another. Perhaps she was not entirely responsible for their disunion; a mother or a friend likeMadame de Rochechouart might have guarded her at the outset from many an imprudent step. It was impossible to expect experience and wisdom in a child of fifteen. During the last two years she had begun to feel how dearly they are purchased.

All this time Hélène had remained alone at Kowalowska. Notwithstanding the imprudences her passion for the Count had led her to commit, she had never for one moment entertained any other idea than that of marriage, though she knew in what light her conduct was judged by the world.

Mortified and discouraged, Hélène was giving herself up to the gloomiest ideas, when she suddenly received the news of her husband’s death. The sudden transition from despair to joy stunned her at first; but soon only one feeling possessed her soul, that of her freedom, and she hurriedly wrote these few lines to the Count:—

“A cannon-ball has carried off Prince Charles. I am free; it is God’s will:Thiscannon was loaded from all eternity!”[113]And absorbed in the selfishness of her passion, she did not for one instant regret the first companion of her life, or shed a tear for the father of her child. His glorious and touching end did not inspire her with an atom of pity.

And then, as if, indeed, death had received from God the mission of removing all possible obstacles to Hélène’s happiness, a few days later the second son of the Countess Anna died of a gangrenous sore throat, before his unhappy mother was able to reach him; and that nothing might be wanting to complete the romance, the Princess heard almost at the same moment of the death of her brother Xavier, leaving her heiress to an income of six hundred thousand livres.[114]

The Count had reached Niemirow in time to see his son, of whom, it must be added, Hélène had taken the utmost care. He wrotein all haste to the Countess Anna to tell her the fatal news, and then in another letter he announced to her Prince Charles’s death, and offered to give her back at once her eldest son, François, in exchange for her consent to their divorce. The unfortunate woman resisted no longer, she only begged that the legal forms should be carefully observed in obtaining the consent of the Court of Rome, hoping that in the interval her husband might return to her before the last step was taken. Directly after his mother’s answer the little Count François, accompanied by his governess and servants, started to meet her.

Without loss of time Hélène wrote to her uncle, whose character she well understood; she told him of her husband’s death, and implored his aid for the settlement of her brother’s affairs; she ended by asking him to see Count Vincent, who would be able to explain many important details difficult to negotiate in writing. She sent this letter to the Prince-Bishop by Major Hoffman, aPolish gentleman attached to the service of the Lord Chamberlain.

The embassy was a complete success. The prelate, calculating that Count Vincent Potocki living would be infinitely more useful to him than the Prince de Ligne dead, wrote to the Count, and begged him to come and see him when he should next go to Warsaw, and in the meanwhile offered to receive his niece at Werky. Hélène sent the following reply:—

December 1792.“My very dear and very honoured Uncle—It is with the deepest gratitude that I received through Major Hoffman the assurance of your paternal disposition towards me. It has awakened in me the warmest and strongest feelings. Pray receive, my dear uncle, my compliments and my thanks. Many things at present prevent my going to see you as I should wish, but as soon as, by the grace of God, I am able to do so, I shall have the honour of presenting myselfin person, and reiterating to you the deep respect with which I have the honour to subscribe myself, my very dear and revered uncle, your very humble and obedient servant and niece,“Hélène Massalska,“Rowager-Princesse de Ligne.”

December 1792.

“My very dear and very honoured Uncle—It is with the deepest gratitude that I received through Major Hoffman the assurance of your paternal disposition towards me. It has awakened in me the warmest and strongest feelings. Pray receive, my dear uncle, my compliments and my thanks. Many things at present prevent my going to see you as I should wish, but as soon as, by the grace of God, I am able to do so, I shall have the honour of presenting myselfin person, and reiterating to you the deep respect with which I have the honour to subscribe myself, my very dear and revered uncle, your very humble and obedient servant and niece,

“Hélène Massalska,“Rowager-Princesse de Ligne.”

Then she wrote to the Count Vincent: “I do not advise you to await the arrival of the Prince-Bishop before writing to him, for he is one of those persons who never know when they will start or when they will arrive. You could send a messenger to Werky, who would wait for an answer, which might perhaps hurry on matters; but if the Prince-Bishop could see you, he would do every thing you wish, and we should be happy.”

The Count did not make up his mind to go, and Hélène, fearing his capricious and irresolute character, went to Werky herself. She entreated her uncle to apply to the Pope, so as to hasten the formalities necessary for the divorce, for she was indaily fear that the project on which she had set her heart should fall through.

Everything took place in accordance with the Princess’s wishes, andthree monthsafter the death of Prince Charles de Ligne the marriage of Hélène and Count Potocki was celebrated at midnight in the Chapel of the Convent of the Bernadines near Werky. The apparent motive of this secrecy was the Princess’s mourning, as yet too recent to allow of an official wedding; but it must be added that the permission for a divorce had not yet arrived from Rome, and only came three months later. It required all the influence of the Prince-Bishop to obtain a priest that should celebrate the marriage under such conditions.

On entering the Chapel, and at the moment of realising the happiness she so ardently desired, Hélène experienced the deepest emotion, mingled with a vague sense of terror. She knelt beside the Count, and remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the ground, and absorbedin her thoughts. When the Count gave her his hand to lead her to the altar she rose to her feet, but suddenly stopped short, with a fixed and terrified gaze, a prey to the most terrible hallucination. By the flickering light of the wax tapers she fancied she saw three coffins laid across her path, which she would have to step over on her way to the altar. The Count, appalled at Hélène’s terrified look, inquired in a low voice the cause of her alarm; the sound of his voice recalled her to herself, and, chasing away the horrible vision by a strong effort of will, she resolutely ascended the three steps of black marble, which a moment before had presented such a sinister appearance. The bridal pair returned to Werky, and the terrible moment was soon forgotten.

After a prolonged stay in Lithuania, during which the Lord Chamberlain visited his wife’s extensive domains, they both returned to Ukrania, and Hélène triumphantly entered the Count’s abode, whither she had gone insuch fear and trembling at the time of his illness. The past and all its sorrows were forgotten, and, radiant with happiness, she wrote to her husband, who was absent for a few days: “To-morrow I shall see you again, and see you still the same, for I do not want you ever to change in the smallest degree: virtues, attractions, wit, faults, caprices, all are precious to me; if you were more perfect, you would no longer be the Vincent for whose sake I should have been guilty of the greatest folly, if kind heaven had not permitted that all should be for the best in the end.”

FOOTNOTES:[112]These three ladies were sisters.[113]These were the words Madame de Sévigné used when writing to Bussy Rabutin on the death of Turenne.[114]Twenty-four thousand pounds.

[112]These three ladies were sisters.

[113]These were the words Madame de Sévigné used when writing to Bussy Rabutin on the death of Turenne.

[114]Twenty-four thousand pounds.

THE END

Printed byR. & R. Clark,Edinburgh.

S. & H.

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