I have just returned from a delightful visit to the Prince and Princess
Metternich. It was very hot the day I left here, and the sun poured down
on the broad, white roads which lead from Sommerberg to the station. On my
arrival at Johannisberg Prince Metternich was waiting for me with a
_calèche à la Daumont_.
Our jaunty postilion blew his little horn incessantly as we galloped
through the village and up the long, steep hill which leads to the
château. The walls on both sides of the badly paved, narrow road were high
and unpicturesque--not a tree to be seen; vineyards, vineyards everywhere
--nothing but vineyards.
The château is a very ugly building, of no particular kind of
architecture, looking more like a barn than a castle. It is shaped like an
enormous E, without towers or ornamentation of any kind.
The Princess was at the door, and welcomed me most affectionately, and
with her were the other guests: the handsome Duchess d'Ossuna, Count
Zichy, Count Kevenhüller, Count Fitz-James, and Commandant Duperré. The
immense hall, which occupies the entire center of the house, has five
windows giving out on the courtyard and five on the terrace, and is
comfortably furnished with all kinds of arm-chairs, rugs, and so forth. A
grand piano stood in one corner near the window, and over this window was
an awning (an original idea of the Princess, to put an awning inside,
instead of outside of the window). An unusually large table, covered with
quaint books, periodicals, and the latest novels, stood in the middle of
the room, and there were plants, palms, and flowers everywhere.
The Princess showed me the different rooms. Her boudoir was hung with
embroidered satin. One room I liked particularly; the walls were covered
with the coarsest kind of écru linen, on which were sewed pink pigeons cut
out of cretonne; even the ceiling had its pigeons flying away in the
distance. Another room was entirely furnished in cashmere shawls--a
present from the Shah himself. There must have been a great many, to have
covered the walls and all the divans.
Nowhere could the Princess have had such a chance to show what she could
do as here, in the transforming of this barrack into a livable place. I
admired everything immensely. She told me that she thought she was very
practical, because, when they leave here, all the hangings can be taken
down and folded and put away, so that the next year they are just as good
as new.
They only stay here two months every year (July and August); the enormous
display of flowers on the long terrace before the château is also
temporary. There are at least four to five hundred pots of flowers, mostly
geraniums, which make a brilliant effect for the time being, as long as
the family are here; then they go back to the greenhouse.
Tea was served in the hall; every one was in the gayest of spirits, and
crowded around the piano to hear Prince Metternich's last waltz, which was
very inspiring. After the music was finished and the tea-table removed, I
was shown to my rooms; I reached them by a tiny winding staircase, the
walls of which were hung with Adrianople (turkey red), and covered with
miniatures and fine engravings.
Dinner was served very sumptuously; the servants were in plush breeches
and had powdered hair. I sat on the left of Prince Metternich and next to
Count Kevenhüller, who is a Knight of Malta. I said to the Prince, "A
Knight of Malta always suggests to my mind romance and the Middle Ages."
"It shows," the Prince replied, "how naïve you are. It is true that he is
middle-aged, but he has not a ray of romance in him. Don't trust him!
Maltese Knights and Maltese cats do their killing on the sly."
During the dinner delicious Johannisberg was served alternately with
ordinary beer. Conversation alternated with laughter, and after dinner
albums and music alternated with flirtations. The Prince played some of
his charming new songs. On the piano was a beautifully bound book
containing them. He pointed to it, saying, "I have had this made for you,"
and showed me the title-page, where he had written, "À l'Inspiratrice!" I
was tremendously pleased and sang all the songs, one after the other. The
Prince has had leisure to compose a great deal since he retired into
private life. He is wonderfully talented--not only for music, but for
painting. Everything he does he does better than any one else.
He said that during the war, when he was obliged to stay in Bordeaux, he
would have died of ennui if he had not had his music and drawing to occupy
him, especially as the Princess and the children were not with him, and he
was dreadfully lonely.
It was a lovely night, and we walked till very late on the terrace and
gazed at the view across the Rhine, over the miles of vineyards and little
villages sparkling with lights.
The Prince told me all about the Empress's flight from the Tuileries after
the catastrophe of Sedan. He said that when the news came to the Embassy
that the mob was about to enter the Tuileries he communicated with Count
Nigra (the Italian Ambassador), and they decided to go there instantly, to
offer their services to the Empress.
When they arrived there they saw the mob already before the gates. They
left their carriages on the quay, and entered by a door into the gallery
of the Louvre, and hurried to the apartment of the Empress. There they
found her with Madame Le Breton. She was very calm and collected, already
dressed in a black-silk gown, and evidently prepared for flight. She had
in her hand a small traveling-bag, which contained some papers and a few
jewels.