CHAPTER I.

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JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT

An Historical Novel

by L. MUHLBACH

AUTHOR OF

FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COURT,

THE MERCHANT OF BERLIN,

BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI,

FREDERICK THE GREAT AMD HIS FAMILY,

STORY OF A MILLIONAIRE,

TWO LIFE PATHS, ETC.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

BY ADELAIDE DEV. CHAUDRON

AKRON, OHIO

MARIA THERESA

I. The Conference.

II. The Letter.

III. The Toilet of the Empress.

IV. Husband and Wife.

V. The Archduke Joseph.

VI. Kaunitz.

VII. The Toilet.

VIII. The Red Stockings.

IX. New Austria.

ISABELLA

X. The Young Soldier.

XI. The Empress and her Son.

XII. An Italian Night.

XIII. Isabella of Parma.

XIV. The Ambassador Extraordinary.

XV. The Dream of Love.

XVI. Gluck.

XVII. The New Opera.

XVIII. Ranier Von Calzabigi.

XIX. The Birthday.

XX. Orpheus and Eurydice.

XXI. "In Three Years, We Meet Again."

XXII. Che Faro Senza Eurydice.

KING OF ROME

XXIII. Father Porhammer and Count Kaunitz.

XXIV. Matrimonial Plans.

XXV. Josepha of Bavaria.

XXVI. The Marriage Night.

XXVII. An Unhappy Marriage.

XXVIII. A Statesman'S Hours of Dalliance.

XXIX. Prince Kaunitz and Ritter Gluck.

XXX. An Unfortunate Meeting.

XXXI. Mourning.

XXXII. The Imperial Abbess.

XXXIII. The Co-Regent.

XXXIV. Haroun Al Raschid.

XXXV. The Disguise Removed.

XXXVI. Rosary and Sceptre.

XXXVII. The Difference Between an Abbess and an Empress.

XXXVIII. The Reigning Empress.

XXXIX. The Co-Regent Deposed.

XL Mother and Son.

XLI. Death the Liberator.

XLII. The Mirror.

XLIII. The Interview with Kaunitz.

XLIV. The Archduchess Josepha.

XLV. The Departure.

XLVI. Inoculation.

XLVII. An Adventure.

XLVIII. The Judgment of Solomon.

XLIX. Two Affianced Queens.

EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA

L. The Dinner at the French Ambassador's.

LI. Marianne's Disappearance.

LII. Count Falkenstein.

LIII. What they found at Wichern.

LIV. The Somnambulist.

LV. The Prophecy.

LVI. The Gift.

LVII. The Conference.

LVIII. Kaunitz.

LIX. Souvenir d'Eperies.

LX. Frederick The Great.

LXI. The Prima Donna.

LXII. Frederick the Great and Prince Kaunitz.

LXIII. Russia a Foe to all Europe.

LXIV. The Map of Poland.

LXV. The Countess Wielopolska.

LXYI. The Emperor and The Countess.

LXVII. Maria Theresa.

LXVIII. Marie Antoinette and Court Etiquette.

LXIX. The Triumph of Diplomacy.

LXX. Gossip.

LXXI. An Explanation.

LXXII Famine in Bohemia.

LXXIII. The Black Broth.

LXXIV. The Extortioners of Quality.

LXXV. Diplomatic Esoterics.

LXXVI. Russia Speaks.

LXXVII. The Last Petition.

LXXVIII. Finis Polonie.

LXXIX. The Mad Countess.

LXXX. The Betrothal.

LXXXI. Franz Antony Mesmer.

LXXXII. Therese Von Paradies.

LXXXIII. The First Day of Light.

LXXXIV. Diplomatic Strategy.

LXXXV. Dominus ac Redemptor Noster.

LXXXVI. Heart-Struggles.

LXXXVII. The Forced Bridal.

LXXXVIII. Prince Louis de Rohan.

LXXXIX. The Poles at Vienna.

XC. The Last Farewell.

XCI. The Concert.

XCII. The Catastrophe.

MARIE ANTOINETTE

XCIII. Le Roi ist Mort, Vive Le Roi!

XCIV. The Memoranda.

XCV. France and Austria.

XCVI. The King's List.

XCVII. The First Pasquinade.

XCVIII. The New Fashions.

XCIX The Temple of Etiquette.

C. The New Fashions and their Unhappy Results.

CI. Sunrise.

CII. The Following Day.

CIII. The Last Appeal.

CIV. The Flight.

CV. Joseph in France.

CVI. The Godfather.

CVII. The Godfather.

CVIII. The Arrival at Versailles.

CIX. Count Falkenstein In Paris.

CX. The Queen and The "Dames de la Halle."

CXI. The Adopted Son of the Queen.

CXII. "Chantons, Celebrons Notre Reine."

CXIII. The Hotel Turenne.

CXIV. The Denouement.

CXV. The Parting.

CXVI. Joseph and Louis.

CXVII. The Promenade and the Epigram.

CXVIII. The Dinner en Famille.

CXIX. A Visit to Jean Jacques Rousseau.

CXX. The Parting.

CXXI. Death of the Elector of Bavaria.

CXXII. A Page From History.

CXXIII. The Emperor as Commander-In-Chief.

CXXIV. Secret Negotiations for Peace.

CXXV. Fraternal Discord.

CXXVI. The Defeat.

CXXVII. The Revenge.

CXXVIII. A Letter to the Empress of Russia.

CXXIX. The Gratitude of Princes.

CXXX. Frederick The Great.

CXXXI, "The Darkest Hour is Before Day."

CXXXII. The Emperor and his Mother.

CXXXIII. Prince Potemkin.

CXXXIV. The Prussian Ambassador.

CXXXV. The Austrian Ambassador.

CXXXVI. The Empress Catharine.

CXXXVII. The Czarina and her Master.

CXXXVIII A Diplomatic Defeat.

CXXXIX. The Czarina and the Kaiser.

THE REIGN OF JOSEPH

CXL. The Oath.

CXLI. Prince Kaunitz.

CXLII. The Banker and his Daughter.

CXLIII. The Countess Baillou,

CXLIV. The Expulsion of the Clarisserines.

CXLV. Count Podstadsky'S Escort.

CXLVI. The Lampoon.

CXLVII. The Petitioners.

CXLVIII. The Petitioners.

CXLIX. The Lady Patroness.

CL. Mother and Son.

CLI. The Two Oaths.

CLII. New-Fashioned Obsequies.

CLIII. The Pope in Vienna.

CLIV. The Flight.

CLV. The Marriage before God.

CLVI. The Park.

CLVII. The Parting.

CLVIII. Colonel Szekuly.

CLIX. The Pope's Departure.

CLX. The Repulse.

CLXI. The Count in the Pillory.

CLXII. The Nemesis.

CLXIII. Horja and the Rebellion In Hungary.

CLXIV. The Jew's Revenge.

CLXV. The Favor of Princes.

CLXVI. The Deputation from Hungary.

CLXVII. The Recompense.

CLXVIII. The Rebellion in the Netherlands.

CLXIX. The Imperial Suitor.

CLXX. The Last Dream of Love.

CLXXI. The Turkish War.

CLXXII. Marriage and Separation.

CLXXIII. The Last Dream of Glory.

CLXXIV. The Hungarians Again.

CLXXV. The Revocation.

CLXXVI. The Death of The Martyr.

JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT

MARIA THERESA.

CHAPTER I.

THE CONFERENCE.

In the council-chamber of the Empress Maria Theresa, the six lords, who

composed her cabinet council, awaited the entrance of their imperial

mistress to open the sitting.

At this sitting, a great political question was to be discussed and its

gravity seemed to be reflected in the faces of the lords, as, in low

tones, they whispered together in the dim, spacious apartment, whose

antiquated furniture of dark velvet tapestry corresponded well with the

anxious looks of its occupants.

In the centre of the room stood the Baron von Bartenstein and the Count

von Uhlefeld, the two powerful statesmen who for thirteen years had been

honored by the confidence of the empress. Together they stood, their

consequence acknowledged by all, while with proud and lofty mien, they

whispered of state secrets.

Upon the fair, smooth face of Bartenstein appeared an expression of

haughty triumph, which he was at no pains to conceal; and over the

delicate mouth of Von Uhlefeld fluttered a smile of ineffable

complacency.

"I feel perfectly secure," whispered Von Bartenstein. "The empress will

certainly renew the treaties, and continue the policy which we have

hitherto pursued with such brilliant results to Austria."

"The empress is wise," returned Uhlefeld. "She can reckon upon our

stanch support, and so long as she pursues this policy, we will sustain

her."

While he spoke, there shot from his eyes such a glance of conscious

power, that the two lords who, from the recess of a neighboring window,

were watching the imperial favorites, were completely dazzled.

"See, count" murmured one to the other, "see how Count Uhlefeld smiles

to-day. Doubtless he knows already what the decision of the empress is

to be; and that it is in accordance with his wishes, no one can doubt

who looks upon him now."

"It will be well for us," replied Count Colloredo, "if we subscribe

unconditionally to the opinions of the lord chancellor. I, for my part,

will do so all the more readily, that I confess to you my utter

ignorance of the question which is to come before us to-day. I was

really so preoccupied at our last sitting that I--I failed exactly to

comprehend its nature. I think, therefore, that it will be well for us

to vote with Count von Uhlefeld--that is, if the president of the Aulic

Council, Count Harrach, does not entertain other opinions."

Count Harrach bowed. "As for me," sighed he, "I must, as usual, vote

with Count Bartenstein. His will be, as it ever is, the decisive voice

of the day; and its echo will be heard from the lips of the empress. Let

us echo them both, and so be the means of helping to crush the

presumption of yonder crafty and arrogant courtier."

As he spoke he glanced toward the massive table of carved oak, around

which were arranged the leathern arm-chairs of the members of the Aulic

Council. Count Colloredo followed the glance of his friend, which, with

a supercilious expression, rested upon the person to whom he alluded.

This person was seated in one of the chairs, deeply absorbed in the

perusal of the papers that lay before him upon the table. He was a man

of slight and elegant proportions, whose youthful face contrasted

singularly with the dark, manly, and weather-beaten countenances of the

other members of the council. Not a fault marred the beauty of this fair

face; not the shadow of a wrinkle ruffled the polish of the brow; even

the lovely mouth itself was free from those lines by which thought and

care are wont to mark the passage of man through life. One thing,

however, was wanting to this beautiful mask. It was devoid of

expression. Those delicate features were immobile and stony, No trace of

emotion stirred the compressed lips; no shadow of thought flickered over

the high, marble brow; and the glance of those clear, light-blue eyes

was as calm, cold, and unfeeling as that of a statue. This young man,

with Medusa-like beauty, was Anthony Wenzel von Kaunitz, whom Maria

Theresa had lately recalled from Paris to take his seat in her cabinet

council.

The looks of Harrach and Colloredo were directed toward him, but he

appeared not to observe them, and went on quietly with his examination

of the state papers.

"You think, then, count," whispered Colloredo, thoughtfully, "that young

Kaunitz cherishes the absurd hope of an alliance with France?"

"I am sure of it. I know that a few days ago the French ambassador

delivered to him a most affectionate missive from his friend the

Marquise de Pompadour; and I know too that yesterday he replied to it in

a similar strain: It is his fixed idea, and that of La Pompadour also,

to drive Austria into a new line of policy, by making her the ally of

France."

Count Colloredo laughed. "The best cure that I know of for fixed ideas

is the madhouse," replied he, "and thither we will send little Kaunitz

if--"

He ceased suddenly, for Kaunitz had slowly raised his eyes from the

table, and they now rested with such an icy gaze upon the smiling face

of Colloredo, that the frightened statesman shivered.

"If he should have heard me!" murmured he. "If he--" but the poor count

had no further time for reflection; for at that moment the folding-doors

leading to the private apartments of the empress were thrown open, and

the lord high steward announced the approach of her majesty.

The councillors advanced to the table, and in respectful silence awaited

the imperial entrance.

The rustling of silk was heard; and then the quick step of the Countess

Fuchs, whose duty it was to accompany the empress to the threshold of

her council-chamber, and to close the door behind her.

And now appeared the majestic figure of the empress. The lords laid

their hands upon their swords, and inclined their heads in reverence

before the imperial lady, who with light, elastic step advanced to the

table, while the Countess Fuchs noiselessly closed the door and

returned.

The empress smilingly acknowledged the salutation, though her smile was

lost to her respectful subjects, who, in obedience to the strict Spanish

etiquette which prevailed at the Austrian court, remained with their

heads bent until the sovereign had taken her seat upon the throne.

One of these subjects had bent his head with the rest, but he had

ventured to raise it again, and he at least met the glance of royalty.

This bold subject was Kaunitz, the youngest of the councillors.

He gazed at the advancing empress, and for the first time a smile

flitted over his stony features. And well might the sight of his

sovereign lady stir the marble heart of Kaunitz; for Maria Theresa was

one of the loveliest women of her day. Though thirty-six years of age,

and the mother of thirteen children, she was still beautiful, and the

Austrians were proud to excess of her beauty. Her high, thoughtful

forehead was shaded by a profusion of blond hair, which lightly powdered

and gathered up behind in one rich mass, was there confined by a golden

net. Her large, starry eyes were of that peculiar gray which changes

with every emotion of the soul; at one time seeming to be heavenly-blue,

at another the darkest and most flashing brown. Her bold profile

betokened great pride; but every look of haughtiness was softened away

by the enchanting expression of a mouth in whose exquisite beauty no

trace of the so-called "Austrian lip" could be seen. Her figure, loftier

than is usual with women, was of faultless symmetry, while her graceful

bust would have seemed to the eyes of Praxiteles the waking to life of

his own dreams of Juno.

Those who looked upon this beautiful empress could well realize the

emotions which thirteen years before had stirred the hearts of the

Hungarian nobles as she stood before them; and had wrought them up to

that height of enthusiasm which culminated in the well-known shout of

"MORIAMUR PRO REGE NOSTRO!"

"Our king!" cried the Hungarians, and they were right. For Maria

Theresa, who with her husband, was the tender wife; toward her children,

the loving mother; was in all that related to her empire, her people,

and her sovereignty, a man both in the scope of her comprehension and

the strength of her will. She was capable of sketching bold lines of

policy, and of following them out without reference to personal

predilections or prejudices, both of which she was fully competent to

stifle, wherever they threatened interference with the good of her

realm, or her sense of duty as a sovereign.

The energy and determination of her character were written upon the

lofty brow of Maria Theresa; and now, as she approached her councillors,

these characteristics beamed forth from her countenance with such power

and such beauty, that Kaunitz himself was overawed, and for one moment a

smile lit up his cold features.

No one saw this smile except the imperial lady, who had woke the Memnon

into life; and as she took her seat upon the throne, she slightly bent

her head in return.

Now, with her clear and sonorous voice, she invited her councillors also

to be seated, and at once reached out her hand for the memoranda which

Count Bartenstein had prepared for her examination.

She glanced quickly over the papers, and laid them aside. "My lords of

the Aulic Council," said she, in tones of deep earnestness, "we have

to-day a question of gravest import to discuss. I crave thereunto your

attention and advice. We are at this sitting to deliberate upon the

future policy of Austria, and deeply significant will be the result of

this day's deliberations to Austria's welfare. Some of our old treaties

are about to expire. Time, which has somewhat moderated the bitterness

of our enemies, seems also to have weakened the amity of our friends.

Both are dying away; and the question now before us is, whether we shall

extinguish enmity, or rekindle friendship? For seventy years past

England, Holland, and Sardinia have been our allies. For three hundred

years France has been our hereditary enemy. Shall we renew our alliance

with the former powers, or seek new relations with the latter? Let me

have your views, my lords."

With these concluding words, Maria Theresa waved her hand, and pointed

to Count Uhlefeld. The lord chancellor arose, and with a dignified

inclination of the head, responded to the appeal.

"Since your majesty permits me to speak, I vote without hesitation for

the renewal of our treaty with the maritime powers. For seventy years

our relations with these powers have been amicable and honorable. In our

days of greatest extremity--when Louis XIV. took Alsatia and the city of

Strasburg, and his ally, the Turkish Sultan, besieged Vienna--when two

powerful enemies threatened Austria with destruction, it was this

alliance with the maritime powers and with Sardinia, which, next to the

succor of the generous King of Poland, saved our capital, and Savoy held

Lombardy in check, while England and Holland guarded the Netherlands,

which, since the days of Philip II., have ever been the nest of

rebellion and revolt. To this alliance, therefore, we owe it that your

majesty still reigns over those seditious provinces. To Savoy we are

indebted for Lombardy; while France, perfidious France, has not only

robbed us of our territory, but to this day asserts her right to its

possession! No, your majesty--so long as France retains that which

belongs to Austria, Austria will neither forgive her enmity nor forget

it. See, on the contrary, how the maritime powers have befriended us! It

was THEIR gold which enabled us first to withstand France, and afterward

Prussia--THEIR gold that filled your majesty's coffers--THEIR gold that

sustained and confirmed the prosperity of your majesty's dominions. This

is the alliance that I advocate, and with all my heart I vote for its

renewal. It is but just that the princes and rulers of the earth should

give example to the world of good faith in their dealings; for the

integrity of the sovereign is a pledge to all nations of the integrity

of his people."

Count Uhlefeld resumed his seat, and after him rose the powerful

favorite of the empress, Count Bartenstein, who, in a long and animated

address, came vehemently to the support of Uhlefeld.

Then came Counts Colloredo and Harrach, and the lord high steward, Count

Khevenhuller--all unanimous for a renewal of the old treaty. Not one of

these rich, proud nobles would have dared to breathe a sentiment in

opposition to the two powerful statesmen that had spoken before them.

Bartenstein and Uhlefeld had passed the word. The alliance must continue

with those maritime powers, from whose subsidies such unexampled wealth

had flowed into the coffers of Austria, and--those of the lords of the

exchequer! For, up to the times of which we write, it was a fundamental

doctrine of court faith, that the task of inquiry into the accounts of

the imperial treasury was one far beneath the dignity of the sovereign.

The lords of the exchequer, therefore, were responsible to nobody for

their administration of the funds arising from the Dutch and English

subsidies.

It was natural, then, that the majority of the Aulic Council should vote

for the old alliance. While they argued and voted, Kaunitz, the least

important personage of them all, sat perfectly unconcerned, paying not

the slightest attention to the wise deductions of his colleagues. He

seemed much occupied in straightening loose papers, mending his pen, and

removing with his finger-tips the tiny, specks that flecked the lustre

of his velvet coat. Once, while Bartenstein was delivering his long

address, Kaunitz carried his indifference so far as to draw out his

repeater (on which was painted a portrait of La Pompadour, set in

diamonds) and strike the hour! The musical ring of the little bell

sounded a fairy accompaniment to the deep and earnest tones of

Bartenstein's voice; while Kaunitz, seeming to hear nothing else, held

the watch up to his ear and counted its strokes. [Footnote: Vide

Kormayr, "Austrian Plutarch," vol. xii., p.352.] The empress, who was

accustomed to visit the least manifestation of such inattention on the

part of her councillors with open censure--the empress, so observant of

form, and so exacting of its observance in others--seemed singularly

indulgent to-day; for while Kaunitz was listening to the music of his

watch, his imperial mistress looked on with half a smile. At last, when

the fifth orator had spoken, and it became the turn of Kaunitz to vote,

Maria Theresa turned her flashing eyes upon him with a glance of anxious

and appealing expectation.

As her look met his, how had all coldness and unconcern vanished from

his face! How glowed his eyes with the lustre of great and world-swaying

thoughts, as, rising from his chair, he returned the gaze of his

sovereign with one that seemed to crave forbearance!

But Kaunitz had almost preternatural control over his emotions, and he

recovered himself at once.

"I cannot vote for a renewal of our worn-out alliance with the maritime

powers," said he, in a clear and determined voice. As he uttered these

words, looks of astonishment and disapprobation were, visible upon the

faces of his colleagues. The lord chancellor contented himself with a

contemptuous shrug and a supercilious smile. Kaunitz perceived it, and

met both shrug and smile with undisturbed composure, while calmly and

slowly he repeated his offending words. For a moment he paused, as if to

give time to his hearers to test the flavor of his new and startling

language. Then, firm and collected, he went on:

"Our alliance with England and Holland has long been a yoke and a

humiliation to Austria. If, in its earlier days, this alliance ever

afforded us protection, dearly have we paid for that protection, and we

have been forced to buy it with fearful sacrifices to our national

pride. Never for one moment have these two powers allowed us to forget

that we have been dependent upon their bounty for money and defence.

Jealous of the growing power and influence of Austria, before whose

youthful and vigorous career lies the glory of future greatness--jealous

of our increasing wealth--jealous of the splendor of Maria Theresa's

reign--these powers, whose faded laurels are buried in the grave of the

past, have compassed sea and land to stop the flow of our prosperity,

and sting the pride of our nationality. With their tyrannical commercial

edicts, they have dealt injury to friends as well as foes. The closing

of the Scheldt and Rhine, the Barrier treaty, and all the other

restrictions upon trade devised by those crafty English to damage the

traffic of other nations, all these compacts have been made as binding

upon Austria as upon every other European power. Unmindful of their

alliance with us, the maritime powers have closed their ports against

our ships; and while affecting to watch the Netherlands in our behalf,

they have been nothing better than spies, seeking to discover whether

our flag transcended in the least the limits of our own blockaded

frontiers; and whether to any but to themselves accrued the profits of

trade with the Baltic and North Seas. Vraiment, such friendship lies

heavily upon us, and its weight feels almost like that of enmity. At

Aix-la-Chapelle I had to remind the English ambassador that his

unknightly and arrogant bearing toward Austria was unseemly both to the

sex and majesty of Austria's empress. And our august sovereign herself,

not long since, saw fit to reprove the insolence of this same British

envoy, who in her very presence spoke of the Netherlands as though they

had been a boon to Austria from England's clemency. Incensed at the tone

of this representative of our friends, the empress exclaimed: 'Am I not

ruler in the Netherlands as well as in Vienna? Do I hold my right of

empire from England and Holland?'" [Footnote: Coxe, "History of the

House of Austria," vol. v., p. 51.]

"Yes," interrupted Maria Theresa, impetuously, "yes, it is true. The

arrogance of these royal traders has provoked me beyond all bearing. I

will no longer permit them to insinuate of my own imperial rights that I

hold them as favors from the hand of any earthly power. It chafes the

pride of an empress-queen to be CALLED a friend and TREATED as a vassal;

and I intend that these proud allies shall feel that I resent their

affronts!"

It was wonderful to see the effect of these impassioned words upon the

auditors of the empress. They quaked as they thought how they had voted,

and their awe-stricken faces were pallid with fright. Uhlefeld and

Bartenstein exchanged glances of amazement and dismay; while the other

nobles, like adroit courtiers, fixed their looks, with awakening

admiration, upon Kaunitz, in whom their experienced eyes were just

discovering the rising luminary of a new political firmament.

He, meanwhile, had inclined his head and smiled when the empress had

interrupted him. She ceased, and after a short pause, Kaunitz resumed,

with unaltered equanimity: "Your majesty has been graciously pleased to

testify, in your own sovereign person, to the tyranny of our two

northern allies. It remains, therefore, to speak of Sardinia

alone--Sardinia, who HELD LOMBARDY IN CHECK. No sooner had Victor

Amadeus put his royal signature to the treaty made by him with Austria,

than he turned to his confidants and said (loud enough for us to hear

him in Vienna): 'Lombardy is mine. I will take it, but I shall eat it

up, leaf by leaf, like an artichoke.' And methinks his majesty of

Sardinia has proved himself to be a good trencherman. He has already

swallowed several leaves of his artichoke, in that he is master of

several of the fairest provinces of Lombardy. It is true that this royal

gourmand has laid aside his crown; and that in his place reigns Victor

Emanuel, of whom Lord Chesterfield, in a burst of enthusiasm, has said,

that `he never did and never will commit an act of injustice.' Concede

that Victor Emanuel is the soul of honor; still," added Kaunitz with a

shake of the head, and an incredulous smile "still--the Italian princes

are abominable geographers--and they are inordinately fond of

artichokes. [Footnote: Kaunitz's own words. Kotmayr, "Austrian

Plutarch," vol. xi.] Now their fondness for this vegetable is as

dangerous to Austria as the too loving grasp of her northern allies, who

with their friendly hands not only close their ports against us, but lay

the weight of their favors so heavily upon our heads as to force us

down upon our knees before them. What have we from England and Holland

but their subsidies? And Austria can now afford to relinquish them--

Austria is rich, powerful, prosperous enough to be allowed to proffer

her friendship where it will be honorably returned. Austria, then, must

be freed from her oppressive alliance with the maritime powers. She has

youth and vitality enough to shake off this bondage, and strike for the

new path which shall lead her to greatness and glory. There is a moral

and intangible greatness, of whose existence these trading Englishmen

have no conception, but which the refined and elevated people of France

are fully competent to appreciate. France extends to us her hand, and

offers us alliance on terms of equality. Cooperating with France, we

shall defy the enmity of all Europe. With our two-edged sword we shall

turn the scales of future European strife, and make peace or war for

other nations. France, too, is our natural ally, for she is our

neighbor. And she is more than this, for she is our ally by the sacred

unity of one faith. The Holy Father at Rome, who blesses the arms of

Austria, will no longer look sorrowfully upon Austria's league with

heresy. When apostolic France and we are one, the blessings of the

Church will descend upon our alliance. Religion, therefore, as well as

honest statesmanship, call for the treaty with France."

"And I," cried Maria Theresa, rising quickly from her seat, her eyes

glowing with enthusiastic fire, "I vote joyfully with Count Kaunitz. I,

too, vote for alliance with France. The count has spoken as it stirs my

heart to hear an Austrian speak. He loves his fatherland, and in his

devotion he casts far from him all thought of worldly profit or

advancement. I tender him my warmest thanks, and I will take his words

to heart."

Overcome with the excitement of the moment, the empress reached her hand

to Kaunitz, who eagerly seized and pressed it to his lips.

Count Uhlefeld watched this extraordinary scene with astonishment and

consternation. Bartenstein, so long the favorite minister of Maria

Theresa, was deadly pale, and his lips were compressed as though he were

trying to suppress a burst of rage. Harrach, Colloredo, and Khevenhuller

hung their heads, while they turned over in their little minds how best

to curry favor with the new minister.

The empress saw nothing of the dismayed faces around her. Her soul was

filled with high emotions, and her countenance beamed gloriously with

the fervor of her boundless patriotism.

"Everything for Austria! My heart, my soul, my life, all are for my

fatherland," said Maria Theresa, with her beautiful eyes raised to

heaven. "And now, my lords," added she, after a pause, "I must retire,

to beg light and counsel from the Almighty. I have learned your

different views on the great question of this day; and when Heaven shall

have taught me what to do, I will decide."

She waved her hand in parting salutation, and with her loftiest imperial

bearing left the room.

Until the doors were closed, the lords of the council remained standing

with inclined heads. Then they looked from one to another with faces of

wonder and inquiry. Kaunitz alone seemed unembarrassed; and gathering up

his papers with as much unconcern as if nothing had happened, he

slightly bent his head and left the room.

Never before had any member of the Aulic Council dared to leave that

room until the lord chancellor had given the signal of departure. It was

a case of unparalleled violation of court etiquette. Count Uhlefeld was

aghast, and Bartenstein seemed crushed. Without exchanging a word, the

two friends rose, and with eyes cast down, and faces pale with the

anguish of that hour, together they left the council-chamber toward

which they had repaired with hearts and bearing so triumphant.

Colloredo and Harrach followed silently to the anteroom, and bowed

deferentially as their late masters passed through. But no sooner had

the door closed, than the two courtiers exchanged malicious smiles.

"Fallen favorites," laughed Harrach. "Quenched lights which yesterday

shone like suns, and to-day are burnt to ashes! There is to be a soiree

to-night at Bartenstein's. For the first time in eleven years I shall

stay away from Bartenstein's soirees."

"And I," replied Colloredo, laughing, "had invited Ulhlefeld for

to-morrow. But, as the entertainment was all in his honor, I shall be

taken with a sudden indisposition, and countermand my supper."

"That will be a most summary proceeding," said Harrach. "I see that you

believe the sun of Uhlefeld and Bartenstein has set forever."

"I am convinced of it. They have their death-blow."

"And the rising sun? You think it will be called Kaunitz?"

"Will be? It is called Kaunitz: so take my advice. Kaunitz I know, is

not a man to be bribed; but he has two weaknesses--women and horses.

You are, for the present, the favorite of La Fortina; and yesterday you

won from Count Esterhazy an Arabian, which Kaunitz says is the finest

horse in Vienna. If I were you, I would present to him both my mistress

and my horse. Who knows but what these courtesies may induce him to

adopt you as a PROTEGE?"

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