[1]"Extract from the proceedings of the sitting of the Reichsrath, held on April 17, 1902. Speech by the Deputy Daszynski:"Gentlemen, the second judgment which has been pronounced following the demand for the revision of the first trial has admitted that Monsieur Mattachich has not forged any one of the signatures!"This verdict of the superior military tribunal is of great importance in the whole of this affair. For, gentlemen, if the superior Military Court had simply rejected the appeal we might still believe that Geza Mattachich had forged the two signatures. But, since Mattachich has wronged no one, sincethe usurers have recovered the money together with a high rate of interest, totalling several hundreds of thousands of florins, on the very day the bills fell due, since out of all this money not a farthing has found its way into the pocket of Mattachich, a matter which, in fact, has not been raised against him, we have the right to ask ourselves what interest Mattachich-Keglevich would have—apart from admitting a singular taste for perversity on his part—to corroborate by a forged signature the bills of the Princess of Coburg which were recognized as good?"And now, gentlemen, if we put the questionqui prodest? We will reply certainly not Mattachich-Keglevich, for that would have no other result than that of sending him to the penitentiary of Moellersdorf—but good for moneylenders. It was of the greatest advantage to them that a forged signature should be added to a real one, for it is a fact well known to usurers that a forged signature is worth more than an authentic one, and I will tell you why."With an authentic signature the husband who is obliged to honour this sort of debt can say: 'I consent to pay the principal but not the excessive interest.' It is thus that the Prince of Coburg has paid in many instances. But this time the usurers replied: 'No; thanks to the forgery, we are in a position to cause a scene—to threaten: we have in our hands a weapon directed against the Prince of Coburg and against the Court circles.'"Gentlemen, I have sufficiently proved to you that the second judgment put the affair on a different footing, and threw quite a new light on the subject. Taking advantage of this fact, Mattachich appealed to the Court of Sovereign Appeal, and that tribunal has decided, that after the examination of the procedure they had cause to confirm the second judgment and to reject the appeal of the condemned man."At the same time, gentlemen, numerous facts have accumulated which clearly prove the innocence of Mattachich. Notably, a letter has been produced which was equally forged, and which indicated to the judges the line to follow."This document was a letter written in German addressed to Leopold II, King of the Belgians. It has been superabundantly proved to be fictitious. It had not been written in the interests of Mattachich but in those of the moneylenders. And those who had committed this forgery were much more in the company of usurers than in that of Mattachich."For the question is not one, gentlemen, of simple moneylenders. Our business is not with 'Directors of a house of Commission,' as they call them in the judgments, but with artful business men who lend money to various persons of the Court at a totally usurious rate of interest, and to whom the signatures of these persons, notably of the widowed Hereditary Princess Stéphanie, are perfectly well known."Very well! I tell you, gentlemen, if I cannot put before you all the elements of theprocès, I rely here, not only on vague presumptions but on the depositions of witnesses, on absolutely incontestable affirmations which prove that Mattachich-Keglevich, who languished for four years in a penitentiary, is an innocent man."Eight days before his arrest they consented to recognize, by notarial deed, that they had given him every 'opportunity to flee' ('Hear, hear!') on condition that he should abandon the Princess Louise."Gentlemen, one does not propose to assure a man like Mattachich-Keglevich by notarial deed of his freedom to depart to a foreign land. These people simply wished to rid themselves of him, they wished to glut the vengeanceof the husband prince, and it is on this account that judicial military murder has been accomplished. And, if that did not suffice, by order of the Count Thun, then President of the Council, Princess Louise was banished, like an unfortunate stranger, from the territory of kingdoms and of countries represented in the Reichsrath, despite the fact that she was the wife of an Austrian general. ('Hear, hear!') Yes, gentlemen, we are now going to make this fact public; read to-morrow in the report of the sitting, my interpellation on this subject, and you will then find the dates and all the relative details. Yes, gentlemen, in the interest of certain exalted personages who possess much wealth, certain things take place that could never happen if we were a truly Constitutional State. ('Very true!')"And now, gentlemen, I ask you: who should be held responsible for having thrown these persons into prison solely in order that the wealthy Prince of Coburg might glut his vengeance? Were they, by chance, officers? No, I tell you quite frankly, the officers were guiltless. They would never have pronounced such a sentence if Mattachich and the witnesses had appeared before them, and if the accused had been allowed to question the witnesses, if the Press had been able to give a report of the debates, if the gifted lieutenant had had liberty of speech in a public audience, if he had been able to have a lawyer to represent him. Is it not truly malignant to throw people into prison and cause them to be condemned by an auditor and by judges who know nothing of the affair! Gentlemen, I wish to accuse no one of forgery, I wish to charge no one. My aim is not to denounce an institution which is the fatal source of all faults and mistakes."And, seeing that we have here the occasion of debating on such doings in open Parliament, I address myself to M. the Minister of National Defence: Does he wish, he who is a man of honour, does he wish, not only as an old man with white hair, but also as a soldier whose conscience is pure and tranquil, to take on his shoulders the responsibility of the anguish and tortures inflicted on an innocent person? Will he keep silent, or will he speak?"If he is not, perhaps, in a position to make a decision to-day, he has no right to hesitate any longer to throw light on this mysterious affair."
[1]"Extract from the proceedings of the sitting of the Reichsrath, held on April 17, 1902. Speech by the Deputy Daszynski:
"Gentlemen, the second judgment which has been pronounced following the demand for the revision of the first trial has admitted that Monsieur Mattachich has not forged any one of the signatures!
"This verdict of the superior military tribunal is of great importance in the whole of this affair. For, gentlemen, if the superior Military Court had simply rejected the appeal we might still believe that Geza Mattachich had forged the two signatures. But, since Mattachich has wronged no one, sincethe usurers have recovered the money together with a high rate of interest, totalling several hundreds of thousands of florins, on the very day the bills fell due, since out of all this money not a farthing has found its way into the pocket of Mattachich, a matter which, in fact, has not been raised against him, we have the right to ask ourselves what interest Mattachich-Keglevich would have—apart from admitting a singular taste for perversity on his part—to corroborate by a forged signature the bills of the Princess of Coburg which were recognized as good?
"And now, gentlemen, if we put the questionqui prodest? We will reply certainly not Mattachich-Keglevich, for that would have no other result than that of sending him to the penitentiary of Moellersdorf—but good for moneylenders. It was of the greatest advantage to them that a forged signature should be added to a real one, for it is a fact well known to usurers that a forged signature is worth more than an authentic one, and I will tell you why.
"With an authentic signature the husband who is obliged to honour this sort of debt can say: 'I consent to pay the principal but not the excessive interest.' It is thus that the Prince of Coburg has paid in many instances. But this time the usurers replied: 'No; thanks to the forgery, we are in a position to cause a scene—to threaten: we have in our hands a weapon directed against the Prince of Coburg and against the Court circles.'
"Gentlemen, I have sufficiently proved to you that the second judgment put the affair on a different footing, and threw quite a new light on the subject. Taking advantage of this fact, Mattachich appealed to the Court of Sovereign Appeal, and that tribunal has decided, that after the examination of the procedure they had cause to confirm the second judgment and to reject the appeal of the condemned man.
"At the same time, gentlemen, numerous facts have accumulated which clearly prove the innocence of Mattachich. Notably, a letter has been produced which was equally forged, and which indicated to the judges the line to follow.
"This document was a letter written in German addressed to Leopold II, King of the Belgians. It has been superabundantly proved to be fictitious. It had not been written in the interests of Mattachich but in those of the moneylenders. And those who had committed this forgery were much more in the company of usurers than in that of Mattachich.
"For the question is not one, gentlemen, of simple moneylenders. Our business is not with 'Directors of a house of Commission,' as they call them in the judgments, but with artful business men who lend money to various persons of the Court at a totally usurious rate of interest, and to whom the signatures of these persons, notably of the widowed Hereditary Princess Stéphanie, are perfectly well known.
"Very well! I tell you, gentlemen, if I cannot put before you all the elements of theprocès, I rely here, not only on vague presumptions but on the depositions of witnesses, on absolutely incontestable affirmations which prove that Mattachich-Keglevich, who languished for four years in a penitentiary, is an innocent man.
"Eight days before his arrest they consented to recognize, by notarial deed, that they had given him every 'opportunity to flee' ('Hear, hear!') on condition that he should abandon the Princess Louise.
"Gentlemen, one does not propose to assure a man like Mattachich-Keglevich by notarial deed of his freedom to depart to a foreign land. These people simply wished to rid themselves of him, they wished to glut the vengeanceof the husband prince, and it is on this account that judicial military murder has been accomplished. And, if that did not suffice, by order of the Count Thun, then President of the Council, Princess Louise was banished, like an unfortunate stranger, from the territory of kingdoms and of countries represented in the Reichsrath, despite the fact that she was the wife of an Austrian general. ('Hear, hear!') Yes, gentlemen, we are now going to make this fact public; read to-morrow in the report of the sitting, my interpellation on this subject, and you will then find the dates and all the relative details. Yes, gentlemen, in the interest of certain exalted personages who possess much wealth, certain things take place that could never happen if we were a truly Constitutional State. ('Very true!')
"And now, gentlemen, I ask you: who should be held responsible for having thrown these persons into prison solely in order that the wealthy Prince of Coburg might glut his vengeance? Were they, by chance, officers? No, I tell you quite frankly, the officers were guiltless. They would never have pronounced such a sentence if Mattachich and the witnesses had appeared before them, and if the accused had been allowed to question the witnesses, if the Press had been able to give a report of the debates, if the gifted lieutenant had had liberty of speech in a public audience, if he had been able to have a lawyer to represent him. Is it not truly malignant to throw people into prison and cause them to be condemned by an auditor and by judges who know nothing of the affair! Gentlemen, I wish to accuse no one of forgery, I wish to charge no one. My aim is not to denounce an institution which is the fatal source of all faults and mistakes.
"And, seeing that we have here the occasion of debating on such doings in open Parliament, I address myself to M. the Minister of National Defence: Does he wish, he who is a man of honour, does he wish, not only as an old man with white hair, but also as a soldier whose conscience is pure and tranquil, to take on his shoulders the responsibility of the anguish and tortures inflicted on an innocent person? Will he keep silent, or will he speak?
"If he is not, perhaps, in a position to make a decision to-day, he has no right to hesitate any longer to throw light on this mysterious affair."
Can anyone adequately realize the sufferings of a woman who sees herself erased from the world and taken to a madhouse—the conscious prisoner of an odious abuse of power?
At Doebling, and afterwards at Purkesdorf, my tortures would have been beyond human endurance if I alone had been obliged to suffer. But with the hope of Divine justice, the knowledge that another was submitting to a worse punishment solely on my account gave me strength to endure. The loss of honour is as terrible as the loss of reason. I could not abandon myself to utter despair whilst the count heroically resisted his persecutors with a dignity which was afterwards admitted when the debates in the Reichsrath threw a new light on my affairs.
But what terrible hours I have passed! What nights of agony! What horrible nightmares! What tears, what sobs! I tried in vain to control myself. Fortunately my attendants pitied me. That was some consolation. I even felt that the doctors, embarrassed by the responsibility of my case, looked at me kindly. With the exception of two or three miserable creatures, bought over by my enemies through greed or stupidity, I have hardly found any physicians who were not disgusted at the injusticemeted out to me, and who asked nothing better than to shift the responsibility of keeping me in a madhouse on to someone else's shoulders.
Public opinion in Austria being extremely hostile, my executioner and his accomplices found it advisable to transfer me to a quiet and charming asylum in Saxony. I was therefore taken to Lindenhof, near the little town of Koswig in the midst of the forests, less than an hour's journey by rail from Dresden.
Lindenhof! The actual meaning signifies "The Lime Trees of the Court." Calming lime trees! Charming lime trees! The name recalled to me "Unter den Linden" (Under the Lime Trees) at Berlin, and the obligations which I owed to my son-in-law and his family, who were now reassured by the knowledge of my captivity in Saxony. The inheritance of the King would not fall into my wasteful hands!
No member of my entourage dear to me was allowed to remain with me. My good Countess Fugger was forced to leave me from morning till night to the care of my jailers. By way of compensation those at Lindenhof were supposed to treat me with all the deference due to my rank. Fear of public opinion is the beginning of wisdom where princes are concerned.
It was impossible for anyone now to say, as in the case of my former experiences, that I was not treated as a princess and a king's daughter. I had a separate house, a carriage, maids, and a companion! I was allowed to go out when Dr. Pierson, the medical superintendent,thought it advisable. But my house was surrounded by the walls of a madhouse; the coachman and footman were policemen; the companion only occupied that position in order to keep me a prisoner and make voluminous reports about all that I said or did.
My cage was certainly gilded, and it possessed various outlets on the country and the adjacent town. But, all the same, it was a tomb, and I realized that I was dead to all those who had once known me, beginning with the members of my own family.
I have said that, ashamed of the crime to which they had tacitly consented, my relations allowed years to pass before they came to see the "invalid." It was only when public opinion censured their heartless behaviour that they decided to visit me.
The indignation against the wickedness of the punishment meted out to Count Mattachich had become stronger than the power that desired to crush him. In mentioning him, the Press remembered my existence. It was then that my daughter and my aunt, the Comtesse de Flandre, came to see me, and my sister Stéphanie gave some sign of life.
I had lost my beloved mother without seeing her again. Her letters—although at the same time good and cruel—were my most cherished relics. But whenever I read them my heart was torn, as I felt that my mother had been convinced that I was really insane.
As for the King—alas!—he sent me no word. Doubtless his mind, like that of the Queen, had been poisoned—was he, too, not certain of the count's guilt? Whatguile had not been employed in his case! In order to play my husband's and my son-in-law's game it was necessary to make my father believe absolutely in our "crimes."
What could I do, alone in my madhouse, deprived of help and liberty?
But I guessed the plots which were hatched at Brussels, and what support my enemies had obtained in order to triumph over a poor tortured woman. I saw my only chance of salvation by the side of the unfortunate man who was enduring martyrdom in the penitentiary of Moellersdorf, for having endeavoured to save me from an earthly hell and its dishonouring abysses.
Perhaps our mutual fidelity may astonish some people. Few really understand that, for certain natures, suffering constitutes a common bond. Our joys had been ephemeral, our sorrows had been prolonged. We had been misunderstood, misjudged, defamed and tortured. But we had reposed our trust and our hope elsewhere than in men. Often the best have neither the time nor the possibility of knowing and understanding, and thus they condemn the innocent on the strength of appearances, which hatred and duplicity know so well how to exploit to their own advantage.
I had been certified "insane" for four years, when the Court of Vienna, terrified by public outcry, was obliged to abandon one of its victims. The count was pardoned. No sooner did he regain his freedom than, fearless of consequences, he began to plan my deliverance! It wasindeed a perilous enterprise, as the Austrian and German police, in default of a justice which fear of the Press and Parliaments kept somewhat in restraint, were nevertheless at the orders of my enemies.
I have said, and I again repeat, that it seems incredible that we still live.
To begin with, my chivalrous defender found himself entangled in the meshes of the police net, and could not take a single step without being followed by spies of all descriptions. As for myself, I beheld Koswig in a state of siege. Lindenhof was surrounded by gendarmes; even the fir trees afforded them a screen!
Fortified by prayer and hope, I had now become if not accustomed to my chains at least able to support their weight. Always a lover of Nature, I revelled in the sylvan solitudes where I was allowed to walk with my sorrow, of course under the observation of my suite of jailers of both sexes.
I had only one friend—my dog! Shall I ever see that loyal fine face again, and those clear eyes, in which alone in a world of corruption I have seen the disinterested light of welcome?
However, I did not despair. What would happen to innocent prisoners if they were deprived of the pleasures of Hope?
Ah, I well remember that autumn day when I first saw the sun of liberty appear on my horizon, and with its advent those chances of truth, reparation and happiness which my imagination pictured all too quickly!
It was delightful weather. The splendour of the sun illumined the Saxon countryside. It touched with gold the sombre forests that covered the hill near which I loved to walk. This sandy desert planted with fir trees was enlivened by a little hotel called "The Mill on the Crest of the Hill," and it was one of my favourite drives. On this particular day I was driving myself, accompanied by my companion and a groom. Suddenly a cyclist appeared coming in the opposite direction, and who actually grazed the wheels of my carriage as he passed. He looked at me. I knew who he was—it was the count!... I had the presence of mind not to betray myself. He was, then, free! I believed that I, too, should regain my liberty on the morrow.
Three years were destined to pass before I escaped.
The alarm had been raised in the enemy camp! It was known that the count had left Vienna. A search for him was at once instituted at Koswig.
My companion, who, influenced by some kindly feelings or by some hope of gain, had allowed the count and myself to have two brief interviews in her presence, securely hidden in the forest, was not long in changing her mind and repenting her leniency.
The count was obliged to desist from any further attempts to see me. The countryside swarmed with police. I was not allowed to leave Lindenhof. My saviour went some distance away in order not to prevent my taking those drives which allowed me a few hours' freedom and comparative happiness away from the horrors of the madhouse.
There now remained only one way to free me. This was first to proclaim, and then to establish my sanity, and to appeal to public sympathy and public meetings in order to achieve my liberation.
A book appeared in which the count demonstrated his own innocence and described the cruelty of which I was the victim. The entire Press re-echoed his indignant outcry.
And the hoped-for help came at last from that generous land of France where my misfortunes were so keenly felt. A French journalist, a writer equally well known and respected (whose name I should like to mention with gratitude, but whose reserve and dislike of publicity I am forced to respect), had gone to Germany in order to prepare some political work. At Dresden he was told about my sufferings. He went at once to see the head of the police, who, greatly embarrassed, acknowledged that I was the victim of Court intrigue. In order to see me personally, this gentleman visited Lindenhof in the character of a neurasthenic. But either from mistrust, or the impossibility of tampering with the diagnosis, he was not accepted as a patient. He returned to Paris, and through his influenceLe Journal, the powerful daily paper whose independence is so well known, took up my cause. From this moment the count found the support which this paper has extended to so many other deserving cases.
He was still unable to return to Lindenhof. The French journalist, however, came there, and the first news which rekindled my hope came in a letter from my thenunknown friend, which—together with one from the count—was thrown into my carriage by a little boy.
This letter was stolen from me by my companion. The other missive remained in my possession, and in vain did my police-woman attempt to dispossess me of it.
When I read it with a throbbing heart I only found one word, written in a language which I never heard in my captivity—the language of my native land. My eyes filled with tears, I read and re-read this word:
"HOPE."
As I had not been in good health it seemed advisable for me to take the waters at some cure. I really needed treatment, and as small thermal establishments abound in Germany it was not difficult to find a place suitable to my state of health, where my keepers would have no fear of a cosmopolitan crowd, and where they could still guard me as an isolated prisoner.
However, soon after the incident of the letters which had been thrown into my carriage, I was told that I was to stay at Lindenhof. The promised cure was abandoned.
Fortunately the doctor who was called in consultation sided with me, and promised to intervene on my behalf. In the meantime my daily walks ceased. I even decided not to go out at all, as I was completely misled by all the stories which were told me, especially by Dr. Pierson.
He rigorously guarded me, although he always treated me with respect. He knew perfectly well that I was not mad, but he also knew that I was a very remunerative patient; the idea of losing me was extremely unpleasant to him. He continued to watch me, but he also tried to humour me, and he easily persuaded himself that Lindenhof was a really enchanting place.
Had it not been for his position of Doctor in Lunacy and my jailer, his visits would not have been disagreeable to me, as they were not lacking in courtesy.
Dr. Pierson adopted an air of kindness and devotion. He told me, in tones of real alarm, about certain information which he declared came from a reliable source, and which he advised me to take into consideration if I did not wish to grieve him. He said he had heard that bandits had resolved to attack me suddenly in the forest and rob me of the jewels which I usually wore. Dr. Pierson did not deny that the count might have written to me. But he said that the letter which had been seized by my "lady-in-waiting" was not what I imagined it to be. It was spurious and very mysterious. It could not be shown me because it belonged first of all to the Law. I should be well advised to give up the letter I had kept. It evidently emanated from the gang who had planned to rob and assassinate me.
Frightened into listening to him and being utterly depressed by my existence I allowed myself to be convinced. I did not want to go out. For several days I lived in anguish, oppression and uncertainty. I could not sleep. When I reflected, I did not know what to think and what to believe. Suffering upon suffering overwhelmed me. Nobody can conceive the will-power necessary to preserve a certain amount of lucidity when one lives for years among lunatics. The haunting terror is such that if you have not the strength to detach yourself from your surroundings you must inevitably succumb.
But God permitted me to escape in spirit and to rejoin my hoped-for rescuer. I ended by pulling myself together and I again asked to go out. They dared not refuse.
However, I was still somewhat impressed by what I had heard, and I dared not go as far into the forest as formerly. And if I saw one or more cyclists I was afraid, although I said nothing.
Had they come to attack me? I wondered. Had they, perhaps, come to rescue me?
What a power is imagination! The cyclists were only harmless people quietly going about their business.
My doctor-professor had not forgotten his promise. His intervention obtained the desired effect, and it was decreed that I should go to Bad-Elster in Bavaria. This place is in the mountains about a quarter of an hour's drive from the German frontier. If I escaped Charybdis I should encounter Scylla!
The country is wild and the spa deserves to attract a cosmopolitanclientèle. But its fame, which is purely German, reassured my jailers. No one would look for me in this modest Bavarian Wiesbaden. And if, peradventure, my defender should arrive, he would find all the avenues to escape well guarded.
In fact, the hotel at which I arrived with my suite of police officials, male and female, was immediately surrounded, according to the rules of the profession, by a cordon of sentries and inspectors.
If any unknown or suspicious person approached he was followed, observed, and promptly identified.
The count took care not to show himself, although, through information which he had procured at Koswig, he was not slow to learn that I had left for Bad-Elster.
The police notified nothing out of the way to my keepers. Personally I was, as usual, neither impatient nor excited. My "lady-in-waiting" could not deny my affability. But within myself I felt that deliverance was at hand.
This intuition was promptly confirmed.
One day, when I was playing tennis, I noticed a fat man whose gait, hat and clothes pronounced him to be an Austrian. His eyes met mine in a very curious manner, but he saluted me respectfully. I could have sworn that his look heralded the coming of the count.
I was not deceived.
A little later, when I was coming out of the dining-room of the hotel, preceded by the doctor attached to my person, and followed by my "lady-in-waiting," a fair man brushed past me and whispered: "Listen! Someone is working for you."
I was obliged to lean against the door; I was suddenly incapable of movement. Fortunately I recovered myself. My two watch-dogs noticed nothing.
The following day I came down to dinner escorted by the doctor and my companion. The waiter who usually attended on us was a little late and was finishing laying the table. Ordinarily he hardly dared look at me, but I now saw that his eyes were speaking to me. At the same time he passed and re-passed his hand over the tablecloth.He first made a fold, and afterwards he arranged and rearranged the linen. I seated myself and, at the same moment, I carelessly touched the spot the waiter had seemed to indicate. I heard a crackling of paper underneath the cloth....
My two keepers were discussing Wagner; they talked on ordinary topics. They could see me approving their banalities with a gracious smile, and they redoubled their eloquence. I profited by this to seize and hide the letter so cleverly placed within my reach between the tablecloth and the table.
I read the letter—I devoured its contents—as soon as I was alone in my room. It was from whom I guessed! It announced my approaching liberty. It gave me explanations of what had been done and what still had to be done in order to effect my escape from my long torture. I was to answer in the same way. I could rely on the waiter.
This is how a daily correspondence began between the count and myself. I very soon knew what measures I should have to take, what attitude to adopt, what necessary preparations to make, whom to fear and whom to trust.
The night watchman had been gained over on our side. This brave man, like the waiter, ran a grave risk. No one will ever know the extent of the devotion which the frightful persecution to which I was a victim has evoked and still evokes!
At last I received the eagerly awaited note, which said: "It will be to-morrow."
To-morrow! To-morrow! I had only another day to wait, and then I should be free.... This was in August, 1904. For seven years I had been in captivity; I had lived among lunatics, and I had been treated as a lunatic.
One thought alone froze my blood: the count would, no doubt, make his appearance. And I remembered that quite recently my "lady-in-waiting" had shown me a revolver, and coldly warned me that she had orders—from whom?—to shoot any would-be rescuer.
Never were my prayers more ardent. Then, recovering my serenity and my confidence, I made all my preparations.
I needed a few hours in which to arrange my papers, destroy letters, and to sort what I intended to take with me. How was I to do all this without arousing suspicion?
I decided to say that instead of going out in the afternoon I would wash my hair. This proceeding, which I often did myself, afforded me the opportunity of being alone, without the "lady-in-waiting," that indefatigable spy, being alarmed. The chambermaid arranged everything that was necessary, and I made a great show of splashing with the water. But I took good care to keep my hair dry for fear of contracting rheumatism or neuralgia, which would have considerably diminished the good condition of health in which it was so necessary for me to be. I rolled a towel round my head, and I took the necessary measures without being disturbed. When evening came, rested and refreshed by the opportune "washing," I went to the theatre with my usual escort.
Of all the plays I have ever seen, none has left me with so slight remembrance as that with which the little theatre of Bad-Elster regaled its honest audience that evening. I was lost in thought concerning what was to follow, and I said to myself:
"Come what may, if life is a game let us play it to the end." When the performance was over, I returned to my hotel, without letting my secret agitation be noticed. The doctor and the other follower were amiably dismissed on the threshold of my room, and my last words added to their tranquillity:
"We arranged to go to tennis a little earlier to-morrow morning," I said, "but I feel that I shall have a good night—so let us put off our party until an hour later."
How could they doubt but that I was wisely going to try and have a long sleep? Moreover, every evening my clothes and my shoes were taken from me, and although I was not locked in my room (they had intended this at first, as on my arrival all the locks had been renewed), the night watchman had orders not to lose sight of my room, and a cordon of sentries surrounded the hotel.
But, as I have said, the watchman had been won over to my cause, and as to the sentries, I should soon see what was going to happen. I was much more afraid of my "lady-in-waiting," who slept in the room next mine. She had a keen sense of hearing, and she was always on the alert.
I had in my room my favourite dog, the good andfaithful Kiki. What was I to do with him? How would he take my flight? He barked at a fly! The hour had indeed arrived, but I saw many harassing obstacles in the way.
I ruminated on all this while the chambermaid finished her duties. At last I was alone....
I promptly dressed myself in a costume and put on a pair of boots which I had succeeded in concealing in anticipation of my flight. My packing was soon completed. All lights were extinguished, and, hardly daring to breathe, I awaited the signal.
But what signal? I knew nothing. I must listen....
By degrees complete silence reigned in this tranquil corner of Bavaria after the theatre, as is usual in Germany, closed at 10 o'clock. Those who partook of late suppers were few. The calm night enveloped Bad-Elster—a beautiful night with a full moon—one more danger. But I had no choice, and my vigil was soon about to end.
The twelve strokes of midnight sounded, then the half-hour, then one o'clock struck, and almost immediately I heard a scratching at my door like that of a mouse. Kiki raised himself ... but with a sign I quieted him, and he understood.
I opened the door softly. The shadow of the watchman could be dimly seen in the corridor.
"Here I am," I said, in a low whisper.
"Silence!... Hold yourself in readiness. I will return when it is time."
He went away.
I remained for two hours absolutely glued to my door, my valise beside me. At last I saw a glimmer of light. It was the watchman. I turned to my dog, who was watching me uneasily. He pricked up his ears, and, sitting on the corner of a cushion in a chair, he understood that I was going away without him.
I caressed him, saying as I did so: "Kiki, don't make a noise. If you do, I am lost!"
He did not move, he did not bark, he did not even whine.
I was now beside the watchman at the threshold of the door.
"You must take off your boots," he whispered. "You will be heard."
He stooped down and removed my boots; then, taking charge of my small baggage, he conducted me forth, leaning on his arm.
With one last look I said good-bye to the familiar things which I had left in my room, and I again enjoined my good little dog to silence. I went along the corridor into which the rooms of my "lady-in-waiting" and the doctor opened. Thank God, the doors remained closed! Another corridor took us to a staircase by which we gained the ground floor. There, in almost total obscurity, I perceived a shadow, with one finger on its lips. It was the count....
The night watchman would not allow us to delay; he gave me back my boots and guided us, sheltered from the light of the moon by the hotel building, as far as asmall conservatory, and then to a terrace which adjoined the road.
There two sentries had met and were talking peacefully in the moonlight, which, unfortunately for us, now illuminated the road to safety.
We waited anxiously. Luckily they soon separated, and walked away in opposite directions.... The count, taking his chance, made me cross the road in a few light bounds. He held my valise; the night watchman remained hidden on the terrace. We were now under the trees on the other side of the road. The sentries had seen and heard nothing! We had still to reach the carriage, which was waiting a little distance away. This was a landau with two horses, a local equipage, which would pass unnoticed. Any other, unknown to the district, would have been signalled and reported.
But a catastrophe occurred. The carriage was not where it should have been. We had a moment of despair. What a night! What suspense! All this agony of mind occurred under the trees pierced by the moon-rays, which seemed peopled with fearful phantoms. At last some of our friends who knew of my escape joined us and conducted us to the carriage. It started, but the tired horses went slowly. Suddenly, in the middle of the wood the vehicle came to a standstill; the driver confessed that he had lost his way.
We had reached a place known as "The Three Stones," the boundaries of three kingdoms, where Bavaria, Saxony and Austria join.
The driver turned his back on the right direction and returned towards Bad-Elster, where we hoped to get to the little station and catch a train for Berlin.
We had the good luck to be rescued from our anxiety by two of our partisans, who, worried by our non-arrival, came upon us unexpectedly and opportunely.
We arrived at the Hof without further incident, and a few hours later we were in the capital of Prussia. When the news of my escape reached my son-in-law and his Imperial brother-in-law they did not believe it. The fuss was tremendous. But matters had been well arranged at Bad-Elster. The brave people there took my part so thoroughly that the German and Austrian police had actually to go to the expense of making inquiries. I had vanished into thin air like a spirit, and they could not find a trace of the count.
In Berlin the secret agents of the Socialist deputy, Doctor Sudekum, who generously defended my cause, awaited us and sheltered us until a lull in the tempest enabled us to gain a hospitable soil.
Everything considered, we resolved to go by automobile to the station where the Orient Express stopped, and then to depart for France across Belgium by this trainde luxe.
Let us pass over an alarm at the hotel at Magdeburg, where I should have been recognised and denounced had I not called Doctor Sudekum my husband! We seemed very devoted, and it was quite evident that a celebrated Socialist could not have a king's daughter for his wife.
At last I was able to get into a sleeping compartment, and luckily I had it to myself. The train rushed across Germany. The count watched over me and remained outside in the corridor as much as possible. The hours rolled by. At last I heard cries of "Herbesthal"!
I was just entering Belgium. I was about to see my country once more. Without, however, daring to stop there! Alas! The King was on the side of the Prince of Coburg! I hardly dared approach the window. I trembled. The Belgian Customs officials passed through the carriages. There was a knock at the door of my compartment, and the Customs officials appeared behind the conductor. But I had been vouched for, and they retired unsuspiciously.
Oh, the irony of the banal question: "Have you anything to declare?"
On the contrary, what had Inotto declare? I was the eldest daughter of the great King of these good people who did not recognize me. I wanted to cry out, so as to be heard as far as the Château of Laeken, and denounce the injustice of Fate, which made me a victim and an exile.
I was thinking thus when an old superintendent of the Belgian railways passed. He did not glance carelessly at me as the Customs officials had done; he scrutinized me gravely, and I saw that he knew at once who I was.
The count was watching in the corridor, and he wasalso certain that I had been recognized. He followed the superintendent. The man looked at him, read the anxiety in his face, and identifying him, doubtless by the photographs in the newspapers, stopped and said kindly:
"It is our Princess, is it not?... Do not be afraid. Nobody here will betray her."
I never knew the name of this good and faithful compatriot. If he is still alive I hope he will learn through these lines that my gratitude has often gone out and will always go out to him.
I arrived at last, safe and sound in Paris. I had nothing more to fear. I was in a hospitable country, protected by just laws.
It is common knowledge that shortly afterwards the most eminent French physicians recognized, after long interviews, when I was minutely interrogated and examined, the inanity of the pseudo-medical statements which had kept me in a lunatic asylum for seven years and caused me to be treated as a minor, incapable of managing my own affairs. My civil rights were restored to me; together with my liberty I had miraculously recovered my reason!
But I found again, alas! during the dreadful war, evidences of the implacable hatred from which I had suffered so much.
This time my enemies thought me in their power, and behaved in an odiously grasping manner. It was not now covetousness for the millions of my inheritance from myfather the King, but it was greed for another fortune, that of the Empress Charlotte, my unfortunate aunt, whose old age is sheltered by the Château of Boucottes. This fresh possibility of wealth aroused the same covetousness, and, as of old, it produced the same line of conduct. But once again I was providentially saved.
A certain book exists of which only 110 copies have been printed, and these have been carefully distributed among those who were unlikely to mislay them.
This book, of which I deplore the fact that a greater number of copies were not printed, contains all the evidence concerning Niederfullbach, and the various judgments against my claims. Such as it is, and for the sake of what it contains and does not contain, I should be glad to see this book in the colleges and schools of Law throughout the world. It would be both useful and suggestive. Also if it were under the eyes of the general public it would doubtless be consulted with great interest.
What reflections would it not inspire, not only amongst jurists, but still more amongst deep thinkers, historians and writers, to see documents which throw new light on a century, a people and a man.
What would not be found hidden in high-sounding words and enormous figures! What a prodigious part is played in this book by a gifted spirit surrounded by collaborators devoted to his greatness so long as he lived, but who, enriched and satisfied, forgot his work and his name when once he was dead.
"Gratitude," said Jules Sandeau, "is like those perfumes of the East which retain their strength when kept in vessels of gold, but lose it when placed in vessels of lead."
There are few golden vessels amongst men. There are vases which seem to glow with this precious metal, but which are really made of the worst kind of lead. Appearances are mostly deceitful.
The book which I should like to see more widely circulated, is a large volume bound in green cardboard, printed at Brussels under the title, "The Account of The Inheritance of His Majesty Leopold II—Documents published by the Belgian State."
One of the best-known French lawyers wrote to me concerning this work:
"It is a great treasure, an inexhaustible mine. Some day lovers of Right, the young and old of every country, will publish essays and works inspired by the documents concerning the estate of King Leopold II. They are priceless. Here are to be found a glowing romance of business, of magnificent conceptions, of astonishing forms of contracts, of statutes and entails, and finally a marvellous judicial discussion where morality and immorality are at variance. The whole terminates in a fantastic judgment, preceded and followed by stupefying transactions.
"It was thought that this lawsuit was finished. It will recommence and perhaps continue for a hundred years, under various forms and under certain conditions whichcannot be foretold. It is impossible that the menace by Belgian justice against natural rights will be accepted and remain unchallenged."
If, as will be seen presently, it is indisputable that the King freely made over the Congo to Belgium, a possession which originally was secured by his money and under his direct superintendence, Reason must admit that such a gift could not have been accepted without Belgium, on her side, incurring some indebtedness to the family of the Sovereign, principally to his children.
That the donor may have wished to exclude his daughters from his real estate is not to be disputed, but that he could do so in justice is not presumable, and this action will never be admitted. To agree to such an iniquity would mean a conflict with that sacred principle which forms the basis of the continuity of the family.
I will now quote the opinion of a lawyer. His brother lawyers who read these lines will know him. I could quote a thousand opinions. But one will suffice: that of a Belgian lawyer, who was powerful enough to obtain "in the name of the State" what can only be called a sacrilegious judgment.
On the evening before the judgment which settled in my person the defeat of Law and Justice, one of my principal lawyers at Brussels was so sure of success that he telegraphed to one of my counsel, whose advice had been of great value: "Congratulations in anticipation."
How could this be doubted? The public prosecutor,a real lawyer, had summed up in my favour. He was an honest man. He saved the honour of Belgian justice on this eventful day.
My leading Belgian counsel was so convinced of not being beaten that he was opposed to a compromise, which was then perhaps possible, and I agreed. For I (who had appeared so many times before the courts) had a horror of legal proceedings. Here, as elsewhere, I have been seized and crushed in a fatal cogwheel. It would be easy to prove it. But the interest does not lie there; it lies in the extraordinary struggle which I have had to sustain, almost alone, in the lawsuit concerning the King's estate.
My sister Clémentine, who perhaps had not read Hippolyte Taine, yielded to dynastic illusions, and unhesitatingly sacrificed her claims. She accepted from the Belgian Government that which the State was pleased to offer her. She did not take into consideration the fact that she ought to join forces with her sisters. The Belgian motto is "Union is strength." This motto is not applicable to all Belgian families!
My sister Stéphanie at first sided with me, then she backed out, then she came in with me, and again she backed out....
I remained firm in my mistake—if it be thought a mistake. I knew at least what I wanted. My younger sister was not so sure. That is her affair. It cannot be counted against me that my cause, being that of the right, was not always hers.
I trust that I may be believed; I only struggled forjustice. Nobody can possibly say what I should have done had I won.
As regards the Congo, it was never my intention to pretend that my sisters and I could possibly dispute the wishes of the King and the laws passed in Belgium for taking over the colony. But, between the conflict of certain points at issue and the acceptance of a disinheritance against nature and against legality, a space existed which could have been, and should have been, bridged by an honourable settlement.
The Belgian State had one proposition to make, which it timidly outlined. My leading counsel did not consider this sufficient. The Belgian people, left to themselves, would have known better how to act, and how to honour the memory of Leopold II, but this duty was delegated to those who, to this day, have wilfully and lamentably failed.
Let us consider Belgium as a human being, endowed with honour and reason, and jealous of the judgment of history and the esteem of the world; mistress of millions of Congolese and of other millions of colonial treasure. As a reasoning being, would she have considered herself free from all obligations towards the unfortunate children of the giver of these gifts? Most assuredly not.
If she thought otherwise she would be without honour, without reason, a cruel cynic, justly mistrusted by all right-minded people. All the decrees in the world would never make her otherwise.
I have reasoned this out, and I still adhere to my viewI was not alone in this opinion. My Belgian lawyers had other opinions besides mine, and believed them to be conclusive.
If I have not succeeded in proving my case I have had, at least, the satisfaction of knowing that my lawyers have lost nothing.
My case brought them luck. They eventually became Ministers, men to be envied in every way, who are proud of having defended me.
But let us turn to the written words; they are more eloquent than any of mine. I only wish to be sincere. Here, as elsewhere, I say exactly what I think. I do not gloss over or twist things round. I only restrain myself from being too vehement. You see me as I am.
I express myself as if I were standing in the presence of the King. I wish to reach my father's spirit, commune with his soul, and convince him in the invisible world that my claims were just.
At the commencement of these pages I have placed his name, which has remained dear to my respect as a daughter. I was never able, and I never dared discuss matters with this father who was so deceived and misinformed about me.
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On December 18, 1909, theMoniteurpublished the following statement: