More than twenty years after the events described in the past chapters,
I was walking with my Lady Lyndon in the Rotunda at Ranelagh. It was in
the year 1790; the emigration from France had already commenced, the
old counts and marquises were thronging to our shores: not starving and
miserable, as one saw them a few years afterwards, but unmolested as
yet, and bringing with them some token of their national splendour.
I was walking with Lady Lyndon, who, proverbially jealous and always
anxious to annoy me, spied out a foreign lady who was evidently
remarking me, and of course asked who was the hideous fat Dutchwoman who
was leering at me so? I knew her not in the least. I felt I had seen the
lady’s face somewhere (it was now, as my wife said, enormously fat and
bloated); but I did not recognise in the bearer of that face one who had
been among the most beautiful women in Germany in her day.
It was no other than Madame de Liliengarten, the mistress, or as some
said the morganatic wife, of the old Duke of X----, Duke Victor’s
father. She had left X----a few months after the elder Duke’s demise,
had gone to Paris, as I heard, where some unprincipled adventurer
had married her for her money; but, however, had always retained her
quasi-royal title, and pretended, amidst the great laughter of the
Parisians who frequented her house, to the honours and ceremonial of a
sovereign’s widow. She had a throne erected in her state-room, and was
styled by her servants and those who wished to pay court to her,
or borrow money from her, ‘Altesse.’ Report said she drank rather
copiously--certainly her face bore every mark of that habit, and
had lost the rosy, frank, good-humoured beauty which had charmed the
sovereign who had ennobled her.
Although she did not address me in the circle at Ranelagh, I was at this
period as well known as the Prince of Wales, and she had no difficulty
in finding my house in Berkeley Square; whither a note was next morning
despatched to me. ‘An old friend of Monsieur de Balibari,’ it stated
(in extremely bad French), ‘is anxious to see the Chevalier again and
to talk over old happy times. Rosina de Liliengarten (can it be that
Redmond Balibari has forgotten her?) will be at her house in Leicester
Fields all the morning, looking for one who would never have passed her
by TWENTY YEARS ago.’
Rosina of Liliengarten it was indeed--such a full-blown Rosina I have
seldom seen. I found her in a decent first-floor in Leicester Fields
(the poor soul fell much lower afterwards) drinking tea, which had
somehow a very strong smell of brandy in it; and after salutations,
which would be more tedious to recount than they were to perform, and
after further straggling conversation, she gave me briefly the
following narrative of the events in X----, which I may well entitle the
‘Princess’s Tragedy.’
‘You remember Monsieur de Geldern, the Police Minister. He was of Dutch
extraction, and, what is more, of a family of Dutch Jews. Although
everybody was aware of this blot in his scutcheon, he was mortally angry
if ever his origin was suspected; and made up for his fathers’ errors
by outrageous professions of religion, and the most austere practices
of devotion. He visited church every morning, confessed once a week, and
hated Jews and Protestants as much as an inquisitor could do. He never
lost an opportunity of proving his sincerity, by persecuting one or the
other whenever occasion fell in his way.
‘He hated the Princess mortally; for her Highness in some whim had
insulted him with his origin, caused pork to be removed from before him
at table, or injured him in some such silly way; and he had a violent
animosity to the old Baron de Magny, both in his capacity of Protestant,
and because the latter in some haughty mood had publicly turned his back
upon him as a sharper and a spy. Perpetual quarrels were taking place
between them in council; where it was only the presence of his
august masters that restrained the Baron from publicly and frequently
expressing the contempt which he felt for the officer of police.
‘Thus Geldern had hatred as one reason for ruining the Princess, and it
is my belief he had a stronger motive still--interest. You remember whom
the Duke married, after the death of his first wife?--a princess of the
house of F----. Geldern built his fine palace two years after, and, as I
feel convinced, with the money which was paid to him by the F----family
for forwarding the match.
‘To go to Prince Victor, and report to his Highness a case which
everybody knew, was not by any means Geldern’s desire. He knew the man
would be ruined for ever in the Prince’s estimation who carried him
intelligence so disastrous. His aim, therefore, was to leave the matter
to explain itself to his Highness; and, when the time was ripe, he cast
about for a means of carrying his point. He had spies in the houses of
the elder and younger Magny; but this you know, of course, from your
experience of Continental customs. We had all spies over each other.
Your black (Zamor, I think, was his name) used to give me reports every
morning; and I used to entertain the dear old Duke with stories of you
and your uncle practising picquet and dice in the morning, and with your
quarrels and intrigues. We levied similar contributions on everybody
in X----, to amuse the dear old man. Monsieur de Magny’s valet used to
report both to me and Monsieur de Geldern.
‘I knew of the fact of the emerald being in pawn; and it was out of my
exchequer that the poor Princess drew the funds which were spent upon
the odious Lowe, and the still more worthless young Chevalier. How the
Princess could trust the latter as she persisted in doing, is beyond my
comprehension; but there is no infatuation like that of a woman in
love: and you will remark, my dear Monsieur de Balibari, that our sex
generally fix upon a bad man.’
‘Not always, madam,’ I interposed; ‘your humble servant has created many
such attachments.’
‘I do not see that that affects the truth of the proposition,’ said
the old lady drily, and continued her narrative. ‘The Jew who held the
emerald had had many dealings with the Princess, and at last was offered
a bribe of such magnitude, that he determined to give up the pledge. He
committed the inconceivable imprudence of bringing the emerald with him
to X----, and waited on Magny, who was provided by the Princess with
money to redeem the pledge, and was actually ready to pay it.’
‘Their interview took place in Magny’s own apartments, when his valet
overheard every word of their conversation. The young man, who was
always utterly careless of money when it was in his possession, was
so easy in offering it, that Lowe rose in his demands, and had the
conscience to ask double the sum for which he had previously stipulated.
‘At this the Chevalier lost all patience, fell on the wretch and was for
killing him; when the opportune valet rushed in and saved him. The man
had heard every word of the conversation between the disputants, and
the Jew ran flying with terror into his arms; and Magny, a quick and
passionate, but not a violent man, bade the servant lead the villain
downstairs, and thought no more of him.
‘Perhaps he was not sorry to be rid of him, and to have in his
possession a large sum of money, four thousand ducats, with which he
could tempt fortune once more; as you know he did at your table that
night.’
‘Your ladyship went halves, madam,’ said I; ‘and you know how little I
was the better for my winnings.’
‘The man conducted the trembling Israelite out of the palace, and no
sooner had seen him lodged at the house of one of his brethren, where
he was accustomed to put up, than he went away to the office of his
Excellency the Minister of Police, and narrated every word of the
conversation which had taken place between the Jew and his master.
‘Geldern expressed the greatest satisfaction at his spy’s prudence and
fidelity. He gave him a purse of twenty ducats, and promised to provide
for him handsomely: as great men do sometimes promise to reward their
instruments; but you, Monsieur de Balibari, know how seldom those
promises are kept. “Now, go and find out,” said Monsieur de Geldern,
“at what time the Israelite proposes to return home again, or whether he
will repent and take the money.” The man went on this errand. Meanwhile,
to make matters sure, Geldern arranged a play-party at my house,
inviting you thither with your bank, as you may remember; and finding
means, at the same time, to let Maxime de Magny know that there was
to be faro at Madame de Liliengarten’s. It was an invitation the poor
fellow never neglected.’
I remembered the facts, and listened on, amazed at the artifice of the
infernal Minister of Police.
‘The spy came back from his message to Lowe, and stated that he had made
inquiries among the servants of the house where the Heidelberg banker
lodged, and that it was the latter’s intention to leave X----that
afternoon. He travelled by himself, riding an old horse, exceedingly
humbly attired, after the manner of his people.
‘“Johann,” said the Minister, clapping the pleased spy upon the
shoulder, “I am more and more pleased with you. I have been thinking,
since you left me, of your intelligence, and the faithful manner in
which you have served me; and shall soon find an occasion to place you
according to your merits. Which way does this Israelitish scoundrel
take?”
‘“He goes to R----to-night.”
‘“And must pass by the Kaiserwald. Are you a man of courage, Johann
Kerner?”
‘“Will your Excellency try me?” said the man, his eyes glittering: “I
served through the Seven Years’ War, and was never known to fail there.”
‘“Now, listen. The emerald must be taken from that Jew: in the very
keeping it the scoundrel has committed high treason. To the man who
brings me that emerald I swear I will give five hundred louis. You
understand why it is necessary that it should be restored to her
Highness. I need say no more.”
‘“You shall have it to-night, sir,” said the man. “Of course your
Excellency will hold me harmless in case of accident.”
‘“Psha!” answered the Minister; “I will pay you half the money
beforehand; such is my confidence in you. Accident’s impossible if you
take your measures properly. There are four leagues of wood; the Jew
rides slowly. It will be night before he can reach, let us say, the
old Powder-Mill in the wood. What’s to prevent you from putting a
rope across the road, and dealing with him there? Be back with me
this evening at supper. If you meet any of the patrol, say ‘foxes are
loose,’--that’s the word for to-night. They will let you pass them
without questions.”
‘The man went off quite charmed with his commission; and when Magny was
losing his money at our faro-table, his servant waylaid the Jew at the
spot named the Powder-Mill, in the Kaiserwald. The Jew’s horse stumbled
over a rope which had been placed across the road; and, as the rider
fell groaning to the ground, Johann Kerner rushed out on him, masked,
and pistol in hand, and demanded his money. He had no wish to kill the
Jew, I believe, unless his resistance should render extreme measures
necessary.
‘Nor did he commit any such murder; for, as the yelling Jew roared for
mercy, and his assailant menaced him with a pistol, a squad of patrol
came up, and laid hold of the robber and the wounded man.
‘Kerner swore an oath. “You have come too soon,” said he to the sergeant
of the police. “FOXES ARE LOOSE.” “Some are caught,” said the sergeant,
quite unconcerned; and bound the fellow’s hands with the rope which he
had stretched across the road to entrap the Jew. He was placed behind
a policeman on a horse; Lowe was similarly accommodated, and the
party thus came back into the town as the night fell. ‘They were taken
forthwith to the police quarter; and, as the chief happened to be there,
they were examined by his Excellency in person. Both were rigorously
searched; the Jew’s papers and cases taken from him: the jewel was
found in a private pocket. As for the spy, the Minister, looking at him
angrily, said, “Why, this is the servant of the Chevalier de Magny, one
of her Highness’s equerries!” and without hearing a word in exculpation
from the poor frightened wretch, ordered him into close confinement.
‘Calling for his horse, he then rode to the Prince’s apartments at the
palace, and asked for an instant audience. When admitted, he produced
the emerald. “This jewel,” said he, “has been found on the person of a
Heidelberg Jew, who has been here repeatedly of late, and has had many
dealings with her Highness’s equerry, the Chevalier de Magny. This
afternoon the Chevalier’s servant came from his master’s lodgings,
accompanied by the Hebrew; was heard to make inquiries as to the route
the man intended to take on his way homewards; followed him, or preceded
him rather, and was found in the act of rifling his victim by my police
in the Kaiserwald. The man will confess nothing; but, on being searched,
a large sum in gold was found on his person; and though it is with the
utmost pain that I can bring myself to entertain such an opinion, and to
implicate a gentleman of the character and name of Monsieur de Magny,
I do submit that our duty is to have the Chevalier examined relative to
the affair. As Monsieur de Magny is in her Highness’s private service,
and in her confidence I have heard, I would not venture to apprehend him
without your Highness’s permission.”
‘The Prince’s Master of the Horse, a friend of the old Baron de
Magny, who was present at the interview, no sooner heard the strange
intelligence than he hastened away to the old general with the dreadful
news of his grandson’s supposed crime. Perhaps his Highness himself
was not unwilling that his old friend and tutor in arms should have the
chance of saving his family from disgrace; at all events, Monsieur de
Hengst, the Master of the Horse, was permitted to go off to the Baron
undisturbed, and break to him the intelligence of the accusation pending
over the unfortunate Chevalier.
‘It is possible that he expected some such dreadful catastrophe, for,
after hearing Hengst’s narrative (as the latter afterwards told me), he
only said, “Heaven’s will be done!” for some time refused to stir a
step in the matter, and then only by the solicitation of his friend
was induced to write the letter which Maxime de Magny received at our
play-table.
‘Whilst he was there, squandering the Princess’s money, a police visit
was paid to his apartments, and a hundred proofs, not of his guilt with
respect to the robbery, but of his guilty connection with the Princess,
were discovered there,--tokens of her giving, passionate letters
from her, copies of his own correspondence to his young friends at
Paris,--all of which the Police Minister perused, and carefully put
together under seal for his Highness, Prince Victor. I have no doubt he
perused them, for, on delivering them to the Hereditary Prince, Geldern
said that, IN OBEDIENCE TO HIS HIGHNESS’S ORDERS, he had collected
the Chevalier’s papers; but he need not say that, on his honour, he
(Geldern) himself had never examined the documents. His difference with
Messieurs de Magny was known; he begged his Highness to employ any other
official person in the judgment of the accusation brought against the
young Chevalier.
‘All these things were going on while the Chevalier was at play. A run
of luck--you had great luck in those days, Monsieur de Balibari--was
against him. He stayed and lost his 4000 ducats. He received his uncle’s
note, and such was the infatuation of the wretched gambler, that, on
receipt of it, he went down to the courtyard, where the horse was in
waiting, absolutely took the money which the poor old gentleman had
placed in the saddle-holsters, brought it upstairs, played it, and lost
it; and when he issued from the room to fly, it was too late: he
was placed in arrest at the bottom of my staircase, as you were upon
entering your own home.
‘Even when he came in under the charge of the soldiery sent to arrest
him, the old General, who was waiting, was overjoyed to see him, and
flung himself into the lad’s arms, and embraced him: it was said,
for the first time in many years. “He is here, gentlemen,” he sobbed
out,--“thank God he is not guilty of the robbery!” and then sank back in
a chair in a burst of emotion; painful, it was said by those present,
to witness on the part of a man so brave, and known to be so cold and
stern.
‘“Robbery!” said the young man. “I swear before Heaven I am guilty of
none!” and a scene of almost touching reconciliation passed between
them, before the unhappy young man was led from the guard-house into the
prison which he was destined never to quit.
‘That night the Duke looked over the papers which Geldern had brought to
him. It was at a very early stage of the perusal, no doubt, that he gave
orders for your arrest; for you were taken at midnight, Magny at ten
o’clock; after which time the old Baron de Magny had seen his Highness,
protesting of his grandson’s innocence, and the Prince had received him
most graciously and kindly. His Highness said he had no doubt the
young man was innocent; his birth and his blood rendered such a crime
impossible; but suspicion was too strong against him: he was known to
have been that day closeted with the Jew; to have received a very large
sum of money which he squandered at play, and of which the Hebrew had,
doubtless, been the lender,--to have despatched his servant after him,
who inquired the hour of the Jew’s departure, lay in wait for him, and
rifled him. Suspicion was so strong against the Chevalier, that common
justice required his arrest; and, meanwhile, until he cleared himself,
he should be kept in not dishonourable durance, and every regard had
for his name, and the services of his honourable grandfather. With
this assurance, and with a warm grasp of the hand, the Prince left old
General de Magny that night; and the veteran retired to rest almost
consoled, and confident in Maxime’s eventual and immediate release.
‘But in the morning, before daybreak, the Prince, who had been reading
papers all night, wildly called to the page, who slept in the next
room across the door, bade him get horses, which were always kept in
readiness in the stables, and, flinging a parcel of letters into a
box, told the page to follow him on horseback with these. The young man
(Monsieur de Weissenborn) told this to a young lady who was then of my
household, and who is now Madame de Weissenborn, and a mother of a score
of children.
‘The page described that never was such a change seen as in his august
master in the course of that single night. His eyes were bloodshot, his
face livid, his clothes were hanging loose about him, and he who
had always made his appearance on parade as precisely dressed as any
sergeant of his troops, might have been seen galloping through the
lonely streets at early dawn without a hat, his unpowdered hair
streaming behind him like a madman.
‘The page, with the box of papers, clattered after his master,--it was
no easy task to follow him; and they rode from the palace to the town,
and through it to the General’s quarter. The sentinels at the door were
scared at the strange figure that rushed up to the General’s gate, and,
not knowing him, crossed bayonets, and refused him admission. “Fools,”
said Weissenborn, “it is the Prince!” And, jangling at the bell as if
for an alarm of fire, the door was at length opened by the porter, and
his Highness ran up to the Generals bedchamber, followed by the page
with the box.
‘“Magny--Magny,” roared the Prince, thundering at the closed door, “get
up!” And to the queries of the old man from within, answered, “It is
I--Victor--the Prince!--get up!” And presently the door was opened by
the General in his ROBE-DE-CHAMBRE, and the Prince entered. The page
brought in the box, and was bidden to wait without, which he did; but
there led from Monsieur de Magny’s bedroom into his antechamber two
doors, the great one which formed the entrance into his room, and a
smaller one which led, as the fashion is with our houses abroad, into
the closet which communicates with the alcove where the bed is. The door
of this was found by M. de Weissenborn to be open, and the young man
was thus enabled to hear and see everything which occurred within the
apartment.
‘The General, somewhat nervously, asked what was the reason of so early
a visit from his Highness; to which the Prince did not for a while
reply, farther than by staring at him rather wildly, and pacing up and
down the room.
‘At last he said, “Here is the cause!” dashing his fist on the box; and,
as he had forgotten to bring the key with him, he went to the door for a
moment, saying, “Weissenborn perhaps has it;” but seeing over the stove
one of the General’s couteaux de chasse, he took it down, and said,
“That will do,” and fell to work to burst the red trunk open with the
blade of the forest knife. The point broke, and he gave an oath, but
continued haggling on with the broken blade, which was better suited
to his purpose than the long pointed knife, and finally succeeded in
wrenching open the lid of the chest.
‘“What is the matter?” said he, laughing. “Here’s the matter;--read
that!--here’s more matter, read that!--here’s more--no, not that; that’s
somebody else’s picture--but here’s hers! Do you know that, Magny? My
wife’s--the Princess’s! Why did you and your cursed race ever come out
of France, to plant your infernal wickedness wherever your feet fell,
and to ruin honest German homes? What have you and yours ever had from
my family but confidence and kindness? We gave you a home when you
had none, and here’s our reward!” and he flung a parcel of papers down
before the old General; who saw the truth at once;--he had known it long
before, probably, and sank down on his chair, covering his face.
‘The Prince went on gesticulating, and shrieking almost. “If a man
injured you so, Magny, before you begot the father of that gambling
lying villain yonder, you would have known how to revenge yourself. You
would have killed him! Yes, would have killed him. But who’s to help
me to my revenge? I’ve no equal. I can’t meet that dog of a
Frenchman,--that pimp from Versailles,--and kill him, as if he had
played the traitor to one of his own degree.”
‘“The blood of Maxime de Magny,” said the old gentleman proudly, “is as
good as that of any prince in Christendom.”
‘“Can I take it?” cried the Prince; “you know I can’t. I can’t have the
privilege of any other gentleman in Europe. What am I to do? Look here,
Magny: I was wild when I came here; I didn’t know what to do. You’ve
served me for thirty years; you’ve saved my life twice: they are all
knaves and harlots about my poor old father here--no honest men or
women--you are the only one--you saved my life; tell me what am I to
do?” Thus from insulting Monsieur de Magny, the poor distracted Prince
fell to supplicating him; and, at last, fairly flung himself down, and
burst out in an agony of tears.
‘Old Magny, one of the most rigid and cold of men on common occasions,
when he saw this outbreak of passion on the Prince’s part, became, as my
informant has described to me, as much affected as his master. The
old man from being cold and high, suddenly fell, as it were, into
the whimpering querulousness of extreme old age. He lost all sense of
dignity; he went down on his knees, and broke out into all sorts of wild
incoherent attempts at consolation; so much so, that Weissenborn said he
could not bear to look at the scene, and actually turned away from the
contemplation of it.
‘But, from what followed in a few days, we may guess the results of the
long interview. The Prince, when he came away from the conversation with
his old servant, forgot his fatal box of papers and sent the page back
for them. The General was on his knees praying in the room when the
young man entered, and only stirred and looked wildly round as the other
removed the packet. The Prince rode away to his hunting-lodge at three
leagues from X----, and three days after that Maxime de Magny died in
prison; having made a confession that he was engaged in an attempt to
rob the Jew, and that he had made away with himself, ashamed of his
dishonour.
‘But it is not known that it was the General himself who took his
grandson poison: it was said even that he shot him in the prison. This,
however, was not the case. General de Magny carried his grandson the
draught which was to carry him out of the world; represented to the
wretched youth that his fate was inevitable; that it would be public and
disgraceful unless he chose to anticipate the punishment, and so left
him. But IT WAS NOT OF HIS OWN ACCORD, and not until he had used EVERY
means of escape, as you shall hear, that the unfortunate being’s life
was brought to an end.
‘As for General de Magny, he quite fell into imbecility a short time
after his grandson’s death, and my honoured Duke’s demise. After his
Highness the Prince married the Princess Mary of F----, as they were
walking in the English park together they once met old Magny riding in
the sun in the easy chair, in which he was carried commonly abroad
after his paralytic fits. “This is my wife, Magny,” said the Prince
affectionately, taking the veteran’s hand; and he added, turning to his
Princess, “General de Magny saved my life during the Seven Years’ War.”
‘“What, you’ve taken her back again?” said the old man. “I wish you’d
send me back my poor Maxime.” He had quite forgotten the death of the
poor Princess Olivia, and the Prince, looking very dark indeed, passed
away.
‘And now,’ said Madame de Liliengarten, ‘I have only one more gloomy
story to relate to you--the death of the Princess Olivia. It is even
more horrible than the tale I have just told you.’ With which preface
the old lady resumed her narrative.
‘The kind weak Princess’s fate was hastened, if not occasioned, by the
cowardice of Magny. He found means to communicate with her from his
prison, and her Highness, who was not in open disgrace yet (for the
Duke, out of regard to the family, persisted in charging Magny with only
robbery), made the most desperate efforts to relieve him, and to bribe
the gaolers to effect his escape. She was so wild that she lost all
patience and prudence in the conduct of any schemes she may have had
for Magny’s liberation; for her husband was inexorable, and caused the
Chevalier’s prison to be too strictly guarded for escape to be possible.
She offered the State jewels in pawn to the Court banker; who of course
was obliged to decline the transaction. She fell down on her knees, it
is said, to Geldern, the Police Minister, and offered him Heaven knows
what as a bribe. Finally, she came screaming to my poor dear Duke, who,
with his age, diseases, and easy habits, was quite unfit for scenes of
so violent a nature; and who, in consequence of the excitement created
in his august bosom by her frantic violence and grief, had a fit
in which I very nigh lost him. That his dear life was brought to an
untimely end by these transactions I have not the slightest doubt; for
the Strasbourg pie, of which they said he died, never, I am sure,
could have injured him, but for the injury which his dear gentle heart
received from the unusual occurrences in which he was forced to take a
share.
‘All her Highness’s movements were carefully, though not ostensibly,
watched by her husband, Prince Victor; who, waiting upon his august
father, sternly signified to him that if his Highness (MY Duke) should
dare to aid the Princess in her efforts to release Magny, he, Prince
Victor, would publicly accuse the Princess and her paramour of high
treason, and take measures with the Diet for removing his father from
the throne, as incapacitated to reign. Hence interposition on our part
was vain, and Magny was left to his fate.
‘It came, as you are aware, very suddenly. Geldern, Police Minister,
Hengst, Master of the Horse, and the colonel of the Prince’s guard,
waited upon the young man in his prison two days after his grandfather
had visited him there and left behind him the phial of poison which the
criminal had not the courage to use. And Geldern signified to the young
man that unless he took of his own accord the laurelwater provided by
the elder Magny, more violent means of death would be instantly employed
upon him, and that a file of grenadiers was in waiting in the
courtyard to despatch him. Seeing this, Magny, with the most dreadful
self-abasement, after dragging himself round the room on his knees
from one officer to another, weeping and screaming with terror, at last
desperately drank off the potion, and was a corpse in a few minutes.
Thus ended this wretched young man.
‘His death was made public in the COURT GAZETTE two days after, the
paragraph stating that Monsieur de M----, struck with remorse for having
attempted the murder of the Jew, had put himself to death by poison in
prison; and a warning was added to all young noblemen of the duchy to
avoid the dreadful sin of gambling, which had been the cause of the
young man’s ruin, and had brought upon the grey hairs of one of the
noblest and most honourable of the servants of the Duke irretrievable
sorrow.
‘The funeral was conducted with decent privacy, the General de Magny
attending it. The carriages of the two Dukes and all the first people
of the Court made their calls upon the General afterwards. He attended
parade as usual the next day on the Arsenal-Place, and Duke Victor, who
had been inspecting the building, came out of it leaning on the brave
old warrior’s arm. He was particularly gracious to the old man, and
told his officers the oft-repeated story how at Rosbach, when the
X----contingent served with the troops of the unlucky Soubise, the
General had thrown himself in the way of a French dragoon, who was
pressing hard upon his Highness in the rout, had received the blow
intended for his master, and killed the assailant. And he alluded to
the family motto of “Magny sans tache,” and said, “It had been always
so with his gallant friend and tutor in arms.” This speech affected all
present very much; with the exception of the old General, who only bowed
and did not speak: but when he went home he was heard muttering “Magny
sans tache, Magny sans tache!” and was attacked with paralysis that
night, from which he never more than partially recovered.
‘The news of Maxime’s death had somehow been kept from the Princess
until now: a GAZETTE even being printed without the paragraph containing
the account of his suicide; but it was at length, I know not how, made
known to her. And when she heard it, her ladies tell me, she screamed
and fell, as if struck dead; then sat up wildly and raved like a
madwoman, and was then carried to her bed, where her physician attended
her, and where she lay of a brain-fever. All this while the Prince used
to send to make inquiries concerning her; and from his giving orders
that his Castle of Schlangenfels should be prepared and furnished, I
make no doubt it was his intention to send her into confinement thither:
as had been done with the unhappy sister of His Britannic Majesty at
Zell.
‘She sent repeatedly to demand an interview with his Highness; which the
latter declined, saying that he would communicate with her Highness when
her health was sufficiently recovered. To one of her passionate letters
he sent back for reply a packet, which, when opened, was found to
contain the emerald that had been the cause round which all this dark
intrigue moved.
‘Her Highness at this time became quite frantic; vowed in the presence
of all her ladies that one lock of her darling Maxime’s hair was more
precious to her than all the jewels in the world: rang for her carriage,
and said she would go and kiss his tomb; proclaimed the murdered
martyr’s innocence, and called down the punishment of Heaven, the wrath
of her family, upon his assassin. The Prince, on hearing these speeches
(they were all, of course, regularly brought to him), is said to have
given one of his dreadful looks (which I remember now), and to have
said, “This cannot last much longer.”
‘All that day and the next the Princess Olivia passed in dictating
the most passionate letters to the Prince her father, to the Kings of
France, Naples, and Spain, her kinsmen, and to all other branches of her
family, calling upon them in the most incoherent terms to protect her
against the butcher and assassin her husband, assailing his person in
the maddest terms of reproach, and at the same time confessing her
love for the murdered Magny. It was in vain that those ladies who were
faithful to her pointed out to her the inutility of these letters, the
dangerous folly of the confessions which they made; she insisted
upon writing them, and used to give them to her second robe-woman, a
Frenchwoman (her Highness always affectioned persons of that nation),
who had the key of her cassette, and carried every one of these epistles
to Geldern.
‘With the exception that no public receptions were held, the ceremony of
the Princess’s establishment went on as before. Her ladies were allowed
to wait upon her and perform their usual duties about her person.
The only men admitted were, however, her servants, her physician and
chaplain; and one day when she wished to go into the garden, a heyduc,
who kept the door, intimated to her Highness that the Prince’s orders
were that she should keep her apartments.
‘They abut, as you remember, upon the landing of the marble staircase
of Schloss X----; the entrance to Prince Victor’s suite of rooms being
opposite the Princess’s on the same landing. This space is large, filled
with sofas and benches, and the gentlemen and officers who waited upon
the Duke used to make a sort of antechamber of the landing-place, and
pay their court to his Highness there, as he passed out, at eleven
o’clock, to parade. At such a time, the heyducs within the Princess’s
suite of rooms used to turn out with their halberts and present to
Prince Victor--the same ceremony being performed on his own side, when
pages came out and announced the approach of his Highness. The pages
used to come out and say, “The Prince, gentlemen!” and the drums beat in
the hall, and the gentlemen rose, who were waiting on the benches that
ran along the balustrade.
‘As if fate impelled her to her death, one day the Princess, as her
guards turned out, and she was aware that the Prince was standing, as
was his wont, on the landing, conversing with his gentlemen (in the
old days he used to cross to the Princess’s apartment and kiss her
hand)--the Princess, who had been anxious all the morning, complaining
of heat, insisting that all the doors of the apartments should be left
open; and giving tokens of an insanity which I think was now evident,
rushed wildly at the doors when the guards passed out, flung them open,
and before a word could be said, or her ladies could follow her, was
in presence of Duke Victor, who was talking as usual on the landing:
placing herself between him and the stair, she began apostrophising him
with frantic vehemence:--
‘“Take notice, gentlemen!” she screamed out, “that this man is a
murderer and a liar; that he lays plots for honourable gentlemen, and
kills them in prison! Take notice, that I too am in prison, and fear the
same fate: the same butcher who killed Maxime de Magny, may, any night,
put the knife to my throat. I appeal to you, and to all the kings of
Europe, my Royal kinsmen. I demand to be set free from this tyrant
and villain, this liar and traitor! I adjure you all, as gentlemen of
honour, to carry these letters to my relatives, and say from whom you
had them!” and with this the unhappy lady began scattering letters about
among the astonished crowd.
‘“LET NO MAN STOOP!” cried the Prince, in a voice of thunder. “Madame de
Gleim, you should have watched your patient better. Call the Princess’s
physicians: her Highness’s brain is affected. Gentlemen, have the
goodness to retire.” And the Prince stood on the landing as the
gentlemen went down the stairs, saying fiercely to the guard, “Soldier,
if she moves, strike with your halbert!” on which the man brought the
point of his weapon to the Princess’s breast; and the lady, frightened,
shrank back and re-entered her apartments. “Now, Monsieur de
Weissenborn,” said the Prince, “pick up all those papers;” and the
Prince went into his own apartments, preceded by his pages, and never
quitted them until he had seen every one of the papers burnt.
‘The next day the COURT GAZETTE contained a bulletin signed by the three
physicians, stating that “her Highness the Hereditary Princess laboured
under inflammation of the brain, and had passed a restless and disturbed
night.” Similar notices were issued day after day. The services of all
her ladies, except two, were dispensed with. Guards were placed within
and without her doors; her windows were secured, so that escape from
them was impossible: and you know what took place ten days after. The
church-bells were ringing all night, and the prayers of the faithful
asked for a person IN EXTREMIS. A GAZETTE appeared in the morning, edged
with black, and stating that the high and mighty Princess Olivia
Maria Ferdinanda, consort of His Serene Highness Victor Louis Emanuel,
Hereditary Prince of X----, had died in the evening of the 24th of
January 1769.
‘But do you know HOW she died, sir? That, too, is a mystery.
Weissenborn, the page, was concerned in this dark tragedy; and the
secret was so dreadful, that never, believe me, till Prince Victor’s
death, did I reveal it.
‘After the fatal ESCLANDRE which the Princess had made, the Prince
sent for Weissenborn, and binding him by the most solemn adjuration to
secrecy (he only broke it to his wife many years after: indeed, there is
no secret in the world that women cannot know if they will), despatched
him on the following mysterious commission.
‘“There lives,” said his Highness, “on the Kehl side of the river,
opposite to Strasbourg, a man whose residence you will easily find
out from his name, which is MONSIEUR DE STRASBOURG. You will make your
inquiries concerning him quietly, and without occasioning any remark;
perhaps you had better go into Strasbourg for the purpose, where the
person is quite well known. You will take with you any comrade on whom
you can perfectly rely: the lives of both, remember, depend on your
secrecy. You will find out some period when MONSIEUR DE STRASBOURG is
alone, or only in company of the domestic who lives with him (I myself
visited the man by accident on my return from Paris five years since,
and hence am induced to send for him now, in my present emergency). You
will have your carriage waiting at his door at night; and you and your
comrade will enter his house masked; and present him with a purse of
a hundred louis; promising him double that sum on his return from his
expedition. If he refuse, you must use force and bring him; menacing him
with instant death should he decline to follow you. You will place him
in the carriage with the blinds drawn, one or other of you never
losing sight of him the whole way, and threatening him with death if he
discover himself or cry out. You will lodge him in the old Tower here,
where a room shall be prepared for him; and his work being done, you
will restore him to his home with the same speed and secrecy with which
you brought him from it.”
‘Such were the mysterious orders Prince Victor gave his page; and
Weissenborn, selecting for his comrade in the expedition Lieutenant
Bartenstein, set out on his strange journey.
‘All this while the palace was hushed, as if in mourning, the bulletins
in the COURT GAZETTE appeared, announcing the continuance of the
Princess’s malady; and though she had but few attendants, strange
and circumstantial stories were told regarding the progress of her
complaint. She was quite wild. She had tried to kill herself. She
had fancied herself to be I don’t know how many different characters.
Expresses were sent to her family informing them of her state, and
couriers despatched PUBLICLY to Vienna and Paris to procure the
attendance of physicians skilled in treating diseases of the brain.
That pretended anxiety was all a feint: it was never intended that the
Princess should recover.
‘The day on which Weissenborn and Bartenstein returned from their
expedition, it was announced that her Highness the Princess was much
worse; that night the report through the town was that she was at the
agony: and that night the unfortunate creature was endeavouring to make
her escape.
‘She had unlimited confidence in the French chamber-woman who attended
her, and between her and this woman the plan of escape was arranged. The
Princess took her jewels in a casket; a private door, opening from
one of her rooms and leading into the outer gate, it was said, of
the palace, was discovered for her: and a letter was brought to her,
purporting to be from the Duke, her father-in-law, and stating that a
carriage and horses had been provided, and would take her to B----: the
territory where she might communicate with her family and be safe.
‘The unhappy lady, confiding in her guardian, set out on the expedition.
The passages wound through the walls of the modern part of the palace
and abutted in effect at the old Owl Tower, as it was called, on the
outer wall: the tower was pulled down afterwards, and for good reason.
‘At a certain place the candle, which the chamberwoman was carrying,
went out; and the Princess would have screamed with terror, but her hand
was seized, and a voice cried “Hush!” The next minute a man in a
mask (it was the Duke himself) rushed forward, gagged her with a
handkerchief, her hands and legs were bound, and she was carried
swooning with terror into a vaulted room, where she was placed by a
person there waiting, and tied in an arm-chair. The same mask who had
gagged her, came and bared her neck and said, “It had best be done now
she has fainted.”
‘Perhaps it would have been as well; for though she recovered from her
swoon, and her confessor, who was present, came forward and endeavoured
to prepare her for the awful deed which was about to be done upon her,
and for the state into which she was about to enter, when she came to
herself it was only to scream like a maniac, to curse the Duke as a
butcher and tyrant, and to call upon Magny, her dear Magny.
‘At this the Duke said, quite calmly, “May God have mercy on her sinful
soul!” He, the confessor, and Geldern, who were present, went down on
their knees; and, as his Highness dropped his handkerchief, Weissenborn
fell down in a fainting fit; while MONSIEUR DE STRASBOURG, taking the
back hair in his hand, separated the shrieking head of Olivia from the
miserable sinful body. May Heaven have mercy upon her soul!’
*****
This was the story told by Madame de Liliengarten, and the reader will
have no difficulty in drawing from it that part which affected myself
and my uncle; who, after six weeks of arrest, were set at liberty, but
with orders to quit the duchy immediately: indeed, with an escort of
dragoons to conduct us to the frontier. What property we had, we were
allowed to sell and realise in money; but none of our play debts were
paid to us: and all my hopes of the Countess Ida were thus at an end.
When Duke Victor came to the throne, which he did when, six months
after, apoplexy carried off the old sovereign his father, all the good
old usages of X----were given up,--play forbidden; the opera and ballet
sent to the right-about; and the regiments which the old Duke had
sold recalled from their foreign service: with them came my Countess’s
beggarly cousin the ensign, and he married her. I don’t know whether
they were happy or not. It is certain that a woman of such a poor spirit
did not merit any very high degree of pleasure.
The now reigning Duke of X----himself married four years after his first
wife’s demise, and Geldern, though no longer Police Minister, built the
grand house of which Madame de Liliengarten spoke. What became of
the minor actors in the great tragedy, who knows? Only MONSIEUR DE
STRASBOURG was restored to his duties. Of the rest--the Jew, the
chamber-woman, the spy on Magny--I know nothing. Those sharp tools with
which great people cut out their enterprises are generally broken in the
using: nor did I ever hear that their employers had much regard for them
in their ruin.