The story of the young Archduchess Valeria--to give her the fictitious
name my informant used, and which is now doubly necessary--is one
that has been encountered before in the annals of the Royal Family of
Austria.
When the time came for her marriage, those who jealously watch over
the conservation of the so-called purity of the Royal blood, carefully
chose a husband and--naturally, against her will--united her to a man
fully twelve years her senior. Had this been his only disqualification
to be the husband of so young and charming a creature as the
Archduchess Valeria, she would have had less reason to complain.
Alas! it was not long before she found he was one of the most abject
personages who ever crawled within the shadow of the throne of the
Hapsburgs. He was a degenerate, in every sense of the word, and
possessed a most unenviable reputation.
Into the details of his career I will not enter, as my outspoken
informant did, but enough has been said to enable you to form an idea
of the married life of the Archduchess Valeria--if, indeed, that
adjective can be applied to an existence in which cruelty, drink, and
debauchery played so large a part on the husband's side.
Is it surprising that, childless as she happily was, and still
sufficiently young and unbroken in spirit to hope for happier days,
the Archduchess turned her eyes longingly elsewhere and encountered
those of Count Seilern? There are some who contend that the idyll
dated from the days before her marriage, and a tale went the rounds of
aristocratic circles that the young Count first made the Archduchess's
acquaintance when he was a military student and she little more than a
schoolgirl. But that may well be the embroidery which is often added
to undoubted facts, and these, for which the speaker said he could
personally vouch, were briefly as follows:
Count Seilern, whose family relations gave him many opportunities of
seeing the Archduchess, had entered on a sentimental and clandestine
intrigue with her. They had corresponded for some time and seen each
other repeatedly before their attachment was discovered. Suspicions
having been aroused, the Archduchess's correspondence had been
intercepted and the truth made known not only to the husband but to
the Emperor Francis Joseph himself. The aged ruler, who had helped
to plan the marriage, fell into a fit of anger on hearing of this
"fresh attempt to smirch the honour of his family"--an outburst so
violent that fears were entertained that it might have a bad effect on
his precarious health. It would undoubtedly have gone ill with Count
Seilern but for two considerations: a knowledge of the disreputable
character of the Archduchess Valeria's husband, whose escapades could
only be kept hidden from the public by suppressing the scandal, and
the powerful influence which the Count possessed, not only in his own
family and society _milieu_, but even in certain sacrosanct circles of
the Court itself. So the terrible old man, raging in his heart over the
ever-recurring evidence of the moral laxity of his own flesh and blood,
decided to let Count Seilern off with a simple warning, dexterously
brought to his notice, and to give orders that the Archduchess and her
correspondence should in future be kept under strict supervision.
A means was found of separating the lovers. Count Seilern's military
superiors sent him off on a mission lasting several months--a
mission whose real object was self-evident to the young officer; the
Archduchess's husband suddenly developed a desire for Italian travel
and dragged his wife with him. Thus were the lovers' hopes crushed.
But only for a time. Once more, through mutual friends, they found a
means of occasional correspondence, and thus kept alive the hope that,
some day, an odious marriage would be brought to an end--by death or
otherwise, they cared not which--and that then their union would be
made possible.
"That is the stage," continued my friend, "at which we find Count
Seilern to-day. He and she are simply waiting. But they are, as it
were, prisoners, whose movements are watched, whose correspondence
is liable to be read by the 'Cabinet Noir' of Vienna, and concerning
whom anything suspicious may be reported to headquarters. As regards
the consequences of any indiscretion, the Archduchess, owing to her
rank, has less to fear than the Count. Had the _rôles_ been reversed,
Francis Joseph might have set things straight, as he did in the case of
the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, by granting permission, under certain
conditions, for a morganatic marriage. But this is a case in which a
male 'outsider' dares to aspire to set the rigourous 'family law' of
the reigning house at defiance--and the very idea of such a thing is,
you know, abhorrent to the Emperor. Hence the danger which continually
hangs over the head of this really splendid man. It is devoutly to be
hoped that he will exercise extreme prudence and avoid the snares which
our police are capable of setting for him at the instigation of the
crafty and fanatical man who rules over us. But I fear that Seilern's
headstrong nature will some day play him false."
The premonitory signs of the whirlwind which was to sweep us all off
our feet towards the end of the following month completely threw this
conversation into the background of my mind. Everything in the social
world of C---- suffered an eclipse through the assassination of the
Archduke Francis Ferdinand and his morganatic wife.