Vienna.
In your last, you show such a passion for anecdote, and seem so desirous
of my insisting on manners and characters, that I fear you will not be
pleased with my last long epistle upon a subject entirely remote from
what you demand. But you must remember that you were warned from the
beginning of this correspondence, that I would retain the privilege of
digressing as often as I pleased, and that my letters should frequently
treat of what I thought, as well as what I saw. However, this shall
consist entirely of sights.
The first I shall mention was exhibited soon after our arrival at Vienna.
This was the feast of St. Stephen, at which the Emperor dined in public
with the knights.
He was at the head of the table; his brother and brother-in-law next him,
and the other knights sat according to seniority. The Arch-duchesses,
with some of the principal ladies of the court, were at a balcony within
the hall to see this ceremony.—The Emperor and all the knights were
dressed in the robes of the order. The Hungarian guards, with their
sabres drawn, surrounded the table.
The honour of serving the Emperor at this solemnity belongs entirely to
the Hungarians. When he called for drink, a Hungarian nobleman poured
a little of the wine into a cup and tasted it; he afterwards filled
another, which he presented with one knee touching the ground. The
Emperor often smiled upon this nobleman as he went through the ceremony,
and seemed to indicate by the whole of his behaviour, that he considered
such submissive bendings of one man to another, as greatly misplaced, and
that he suffered this mummery merely in compliance with ancient custom.
There was great crowding to see this feast, and it was not without
difficulty I got admission; though, after all, there was nothing to be
seen but some well-dressed men, who ate an exceeding good dinner with
tolerable appetite.
Since the feast of St. Stephen, we have been witnesses to the annual
ceremony in commemoration of the defeat of the Turkish army, and the
raising the siege of Vienna by John Sobieski king of Poland. The Imperial
family and the principal nobility of both sexes walked in solemn
procession, and heard mass at the church of St. Stephen on this occasion.
In the middle of the street, leading from the palace to the church, a
platform was raised, upon which the company, who formed the procession,
walked.—The streets were lined with the Imperial guards, and the windows
and tops of the houses were crowded with spectators.—The D—— of H—— and I
found a very good situation at a window with the Venetian ambassador.
This ceremony would have been too fatiguing for the Empress:—She
therefore did not attend:—The Emperor, the Arch-dukes and Duchesses, with
all the nobility, did. A prodigious train of bishops, priests, and monks
followed; and a numerous band of music played as they went along.
As this is a day of rejoicing, the richest and gayest dresses are thought
the most expressive of the pious gratitude becoming such an occasion.
The ladies displayed their devotion in the most brilliant manner. Their
minds, however, were not so much exalted by heavenly contemplations, as
to be above taking notice of their earthly acquaintances at the windows,
whom they regaled with smiles and nods as they walked along.
Next day the Imperial family dined in public, and many people went to see
them. I was not of the number, though nobody can more sincerely wish them
the enjoyment of all the comforts of life. I know not on what principle
the Royal Family in France, and other countries in Europe, have adopted
the custom of eating in public. They cannot imagine, that the seeing them
chew and swallow their victuals can create a vast deal of admiration in
the beholders. It would certainly be taken for granted, that they could
perform these necessary functions, although a cloud of witnesses were
not admitted to confirm the fact. If these exhibitions are designed for
the entertainment of the subjects, a thousand could be thought of more
amusing to them; for however interesting the part of an actor at a feast
may be, that of a spectator is surely one of the most insipid that can be
imagined.
But the same evening there was a grand masquerade at Schonbrun, which
was more generally amusing.—Four thousand tickets were distributed on
this occasion.—A large party of dragoons were placed along the road from
Vienna, to keep the coaches in a regular line, and to prevent confusion.
The principal rooms of this magnificent palace were thrown open for the
reception of the company.—In three large halls on the ground-floor,
tables were covered with a cold collation of all kinds of fowls, ham, and
confections, with pine-apples and every sort of fruit. These, with Old
Hock, Champagne, and other kinds of wine, were served with readiness and
profusion to all who asked for them.
At the end of the large dining-room, there was a raised seat for the
Empress, and some ladies who attended her. Here a grand Ballet was danced
by the Arch-duke, the Arch-duchesses, the Princess of Modena, and some
of the chief nobility, to the number of twenty-four. The dancers, both
male and female, were dressed in white silk, flounced with pink-coloured
ribands, and enriched with a vast profusion of diamonds.
This ballet was performed three times at proper intervals. Those who had
seen it once, passed into the gallery, and other apartments, giving way
to a new set of spectators. In the garden, on a rising ground opposite
to the palace windows, a temporary fabric was erected in the form of
a large and magnificent temple. This was illuminated by an incredible
number of lamps, and gave the appearance of a very extraordinary piece of
architecture, which continued flaming through the whole night, and had
a very fine effect, viewed from Vienna, and other places at a greater
distance.
The Emperor mixed with the company without ceremony or distinction,
taking no part himself but as a spectator. He was conversing in the
middle of the hall, in the most familiar manner, with an English
gentleman, without observing, that the third ballet was going to be
danced, when the master of the ceremonies whispered him in the ear.—The
Emperor, seizing the Englishman by the arm, said, Allons, Monsieur, on
nous chasse—il faut se retirer; and immediately walked into another room,
to give place to others who had not yet seen the dance.
This very splendid entertainment was given to the Arch-duke, and the
Princess of Modena, whose usual residence is at Milan.—The Empress, thus
surrounded by her offspring, appeared cheerful and happy.—She seemed to
enjoy the vivacity, and sympathize with the gaiety, of the company.—She
is greatly beloved by her own children, and by her subjects in general,
whom she also considers as her children in a greater degree than is usual
for sovereigns.
It is an error to imagine, that great devotion has a tendency to sour the
temper: Though it must be acknowledged, that it has not always the power
of sweetening the very austere trunks on which it is sometimes grafted;
but in a character naturally benevolent, every good disposition will be
strengthened and animated by real piety. Of this I have seen a thousand
instances, and I believe her Imperial Majesty affords one.