Bruehl conquered, but for many years he was afraid of the revenge
Sulkowski might take, which, however, the latter never attempted.
Sulkowski, having purchased a large estate from the King Leszezynski,
and also being occupied in administrating his other estate in Silesia,
being moreover created prince by the Emperor of Austria, enjoyed his
life and did not trouble to recall himself to Augustus III, now so
completely dominated by Bruehl.
The present story is only a preface to Bruehl's life who until the death
of Augustus ruled over Saxony and Poland; he became a Polish nobleman
and, as he himself said, played a most interesting role as a favourite,
whom good luck never deserted till the day of his death. It would be
unsatisfactory to give a mere synopsis of this curious drama. Bruehl is
a historical figure as well as a remarkable type of his epoch; in
Bruehl's life, that of Augustus III appears as in a mirror.
Here the story might close, had not tradition left an interesting
incident which may form a fitting epilogue to the tale.
In 1756, during the war with Prussia, when Bruehl was in the height of
his power, he was obliged to fly to Poland with Augustus III, who left
to the victor all his property--his palaces, libraries, galleries,
collections. It was late in the autumn and the court carriages, on
account of bad roads and the scarcity of horses in Silesia, were
divided into several groups. It so happened that the King was in the
first of these and his minister in the last. Bruehl greatly feared
capture by the King of Prussia who hated him, and in consequence
endeavoured to reach Augustus in whose company he felt safer. But
misfortune pursued him; the horses dropped dead, the wheels broke, and
haste was impossible. The rain rendered the roads so bad that double
teams for the carriages were insufficient. Bruehl was obliged to accept
his fate. Recent events had much depressed him, he had lost millions
and was obliged to fly to Poland where he could not rule so absolutely
as in Saxony. No wonder then that the pet of fortune was gloomy,
frightened and impatient. Sometimes he was so absent-minded that he did
not even understand what was said to him.
Evening was approaching, it was raining hard, the horses could hardly
drag themselves along, when the steeples and lights of a small hamlet
appeared through the grey curtain of rain. Bruehl expected to find the
King here, but at the posting station he was told that his Majesty was
going to pass the night about twenty miles further on, and it was
impossible to get horses. Bruehl promised to buy the horses but nobody
would accept his offer and he was forced to seek a lodging in the
village.
His numerous attendants, for he had lately been made a Count, dispersed
to find him decent accommodation. There was only one inn called 'Ye Old
Horse,' which was occupied by a Polish nobleman and his retinue. The
minister thought that at the sound of his name the inn would be
immediately vacated in his favour, for the Polish nobles were very
polite, outside their house of parliament, and Bruehl was omnipotent and
could reward the courtesy with the gift of some state property. Count
Bruehl's major-domo hastened to 'Ye Old Horse' where he found the
numerous and lordly retinue of someone whom they called prince. Without
asking the name of the nobleman he preferred his request, or, as he
thought, command, that they should vacate it in favour of his
Excellency the Count Bruehl. The prince, on hearing the name made a
grimace, pondered a while, and answered in very good German, even
betraying the Saxon accent, that he would not give up the inn, but
would share it with the minister.
In the meantime the sleet was beating so effectually against the
windows of the Count's carriage that it found its way inside. The
messenger returned with the answer and Bruehl, not apprehending any
inconvenience from meeting a stranger ordered them to drive to the inn.
He expected that someone would come out to meet him, but he was
mistaken. It was Bruehl's custom to double his civility when he was
slighted, and he alighted from the carriage with a determination to put
the proud nobleman to shame by his amiability. The butler threw open
the door, and the minister hastened into a large room, in which there
was a fire in the grate, and two lighted candles on the table. Looking
round for the prince, he perceived, standing at the further end of the
room, not in the least embarrassed at the meeting, only a little older,
but still more proud than ever--Sulkowski.
The prince stood silently looking down on his adversary, without
greeting him.
Bruehl grew pale and wanted to withdraw, thinking that he had fallen
into an ambush. His face changed so strangely, that Sulkowski could not
help smiling.
Evidently recollecting Guarini and his Italian proverbs, he said:
'_Si rincontrano gli uomini, e non le montagne_.'
Bruehl stood astounded
'I am sure you know the fable,' said Sulkowski, 'about a storm, during
which a wolf found himself in a cavern with a lamb--it is something
like that with us! During such bad weather it would not be right to
refuse hospitality even to a foe.'
Bruehl was silent.
'Count, you may rest assured that I shall not take advantage of the
situation, in order to annoy you,' added Sulkowski. 'Our meeting amuses
me very much, especially when I think that I am avenged by your fate
after fourteen years.'
'Prince!' said Bruehl very sweetly.
'Count!' Sulkowski rejoined, 'had it depended upon you, I should have
had a lodging in Koenigstein instead of a principality.'
'Prince!' retorted Bruehl, 'you attribute to me greater power than I
had. The reasons of your downfall were, in the first place, your own
lack of foresight, secondly, right or not, the King's anger, and
lastly, his Majesty's will, of which I was merely the executioner.'
'Count!' said the Prince, 'you should put it as it will be written
in history, namely, that the King was and is the executor of your
fancies--'
'Prince, you are mistaken--'
'I hope you do not think me so stupid,' rejoined Sulkowski, 'that
knowing your character and the situation, I could be persuaded that you
were innocent.'
'I call God to witness!' cried Bruehl, clasping his hands.
'That is very comfortable,' answered Sulkowski, 'for that witness never
comes on earth. The best proof is the fate you have met with. The
fruits of your policy are: the Prussian invasion, and the King's
shameful flight.'
Bruehl was indignant.
'It is only a beginning and not the end,' he said, 'we shall see what
will become of the invaders and of us.'
'Yes,' said Sulkowski smiling, 'the King and you, that is to say, you,
are going to make another country happy, and do with Poland as you have
done with Saxony.'
'In the administration at Saxony,' Bruehl said sarcastically, 'I had no
need to introduce anything new, it sufficed to follow the steps of my
worthy predecessor.'
Sulkowski's eyes shone.
'Your predecessor planned quite differently for the future of Saxony,'
said Sulkowski proudly, 'and the best proof of that was the plan you
gave to the Austrian Court through the Prince von Lichtenstein.'
Bruehl was confused.
'I? I know nothing about it,' he muttered sulkily.
Sulkowski laughed, and paced to and fro.
'Bruehl, listen; I speak as formerly, without giving you your title,' he
said, 'do not play the fool with me, for it is useless.'
'I have nothing to reproach myself with,' said Bruehl, 'and I forgive
you. Prince, you are talking like a competitor who failed to accomplish
what good fortune gave to me.'
'How can you call that good fortune?' said Sulkowski laughing. 'Padre
Guarini, or--'
Bruehl blushed, the prince shrugged his shoulders.
'Upon my honour, Count, I admire you from a distance, but you must not
tell me that I would have done the same in your place! I most humbly
avow that I could not use so much falsehood as you did for your plans.
I wanted to see Saxony powerful and Augustus III famous; he was noble
but weak and lazy; I wanted to supply him with my energy. What I
possess I owe to the King's munificence and not to dishonest
calculations.'
'Prince!' exclaimed Bruehl, 'that is too much!'
Sulkowski turned to him and continued:--.
'But we can be honest and laugh at this comedy behind the scenes as the
Roman augurs did. You may be to others as innocent as Ephraim, but to
me you will always remain Bruehl, whom I remember wearing the uniform of
a page and saluting the lackeys.'
With these words, Sulkowski took his fur cap, and taking no further
notice of Bruehl, walked out. The wind was still howling, the rain
pouring down, but the prince ordered his carriage to be brought round.
The servants were amazed but ventured no remark.
'Not a word! We go to the next village, but we leave here and at once.'
He did not return to the room in which he had left Bruehl; even the icy
cold was preferable to that, and when after a long delay the carriage
came to the door, he sprang in, and answered the servant's enquiry
where to drive to, with: 'Anywhere you please.'
Against the lighted panes of the window there appeared the shadow of a
man, as of one peering into the darkness. The carriage rolled away into
the night and the shadow of the man at the window disappeared.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Joannis Maldonati Summula. Colomae, 1605, p. 5.]
[Footnote 2: Two court fools.]