THE REVOCATION.
When Quarin entered the emperor's cabinet, he found him quietly seated
before his escritoire half buried in documents: The physician remained
standing at the door, waiting until he should be ordered to approach.
Suddenly Joseph was interrupted in his writing by a spell of coughing.
He dropped his pen, and leaned back exhausted. Quarin hastened to his
side.
"Your majesty must not write," said he, gravely. "You must lay aside all
work for a time."
"I believe that I shall have to lay it aside forever," replied Joseph,
languidly. "I sent for you to say that I have a lawsuit with my lungs,
and you must tell me which of us is to gain it." [Footnote: Joseph's own
words.--"Characteristics of Joseph II." p. 14]
"What am I to tell your majesty?" asked the physician, disturbed.
The emperor looked up with eyes which glowed with the flaming light of
fever. "Quarin, you understand me perfectly. You must tell me, in regard
to this lawsuit with my lungs, which is to gain it, myself or death?
Here is my evidence."
With these words he drew out his handkerchief and held it open between
his wan, transparent hands. It was dyed in blood.
"Blood!" exclaimed Quarin, in a tone of alarm. "Your majesty has
received a wound?"
"Yes, an interior wound. The Hungarians have dealt me my death-blow.
This blood is welling up from a wounded heart. Do not look so mournful,
doctor. Let us speak of death as man to man. Look at me now, and say
whether my malady is incurable."
"Why should it be incurable?" asked the physician, faltering. "You are
young, sire, and have a sound constitution."
"No commonplaces, Quarin, no equivocation," cried Joseph, impatiently.
"I must have the truth, do you hear me?--the truth. I cannot afford to
be surprised by death, for I must provide for a nation, and my house
must be set in order. I am not afraid of death, my friend; it comes to
me in the smiling guise of a liberator. Therefore be frank, and tell the
at once whether my malady is dangerous."
Again he raised his large, brilliant eyes to the face of the physician.
Quarin's features were convulsed with distress, and tears stood in his
eyes. His voice was very tremulous as he replied
"Yes, sire, it is dangerous."
The emperor's countentance remained perfectly calm. "Can you tell me
with any degree of precision how long I have to live?"
"No, sire; you may live yet for several weeks, or some excitement may
put an end to your existence in a few days. In this malady the patient
must be prepared at any moment for death."
"Then it is incurable?"
"Yes, sire," faltered Quarin, his tears bursting forth afresh.
The emperor looked thoughtfully before him, and for some time kept
silence. Then extending his hand with a smile, he said,
"From my soul I thank you for the manly frankness with which you have
treated me, Quarin, and I desire now to give you a testimony of my
gratitude. You have children, have you not?"
"Yes, sire--two daughters."
"And you are not rich, I believe?"
"The salary which I receive from your majesty, united to my practice,
affords us a comfortable independence."
The emperor nodded. "You must do a little commission for me," said he,
turning to the escritoire and writing a few lines, which he presented to
Quarin.
"Take this paper to the court chancery and present it to the bureau of
finances. You will there receive ten thousand florins wherewith to
portion your daughters."
"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Quarin, deeply moved, "I thank you with all the
strength of my paternal heart."
"No," replied Joseph, gently, "it is my duty to reward merit. [Footnote:
These are the emperor's words. This scene is historical.--Hubner. ii.,
p. 496.] In addition to this, I would wish to leave you a personal
souvenir of my friendship. I bestow upon you, as a last token of my
affection, the title of freiherr, and I will take out the patent for you
myself. Not a word, dear friend, not a word! Leave me now, for I must
work diligently. Since my hours are numbered, I must make the most of
them. Farewell! Who knows how soon I may have to recall you here?"
The physician kissed the emperor's hand with fervor, and turned hastily
away. Joseph sank back in the chair. His large eyes were raised to
heaven, and his wan face beamed with something brighter than
resignation.
At that moment the door of the chancery was opened, and the first
privy-councillor came hastily forward.
"What is it?" said Joseph, with a slight start.
"Sire, two couriers have just arrived. The first is from the Count
Cobenzl. He announces that all Belgium, with the exception of Luxemburg,
is in the hands of the patriots; that Van der Noot has called a
convention of the United Provinces, which has declared Belgium a
republic; her independence is to be guaranteed by England, Prussia, and
Holland. Count Cobenzl is urgent in his request for instructions. He is
totally at a loss what to do."
The emperor had listened with mournful tranquillity. "And the second
courier?" said he.
"The second courier, sire, comes from the imperial stadtholder of
Tyrol."
"What says he?"
"He brings evil tidings, sire. The people have rebelled, and cry out
against the conscription and the church reforms. Unless these laws are
repealed, there is danger of revolution."
The emperor uttered a piercing cry, and pressed his hands to his breast.
"It is nothing," said he, in reply to the anxious and alarmed looks of
the privy-councillor. "A momentary pang, which has already passed
away--nothing more. Continue your report."
"This is all, your majesty. The stadtholder entreats you to quiet this
rebellion and--"
"And to revoke my decrees, is it not so? The same croaking which for
eight years has been dinned into my ears. Well--I must have time to
reflect, and as soon as I shall have determined upon my course of
action, you shall learn my decision."
"Rebellion in Tyrol, in Hnngary, in the Netherlands!" murmured the
emperor, when he found himself alone. "From every side I hear my
death-knell! My people would bury me ere I have drawn my last sigh. My
great ancestor, Charles, stood beside his open grave, and voluntarily
contemplated his last resting-place; but I! unhappy monarch, am forced
into mine by the ingratitude of a people for whom alone I leave lived!
Is it indeed so? Must I die with the mournful conviction that I have
lived in vain? O my God, what excess of humiliation Thou hast forced
upon me! And what have I done to deserve such a fate? Wherein have I
sinned, that my imperial crown should have been lined with so many cruel
thorns? Is there no remedy? must I drink this last bitter chalice? Must
I revoke that which I have published to the world as my sovereign will?"
He ceased, and folding his arms, faced his difficult position. For one
hour he sat motionless, his face grooving gradually paler, his brow
darker, his lips more rigidly compressed together.
At length he heaved one long, convulsive sigh. "No--there is no other
remedy. I have toiled in vain--my beautiful structure has fallen, and my
grave is under its ruins! O my God, why may I not have a few months more
of life, wherewith to crush these aspiring rebels? But no!. I must die
now, and leave them to triumph over my defeat; for I dare not leave to
my successor the accursed inheritance of civil war. To the last hour of
my life I must humble my will before the decree of that cruel destiny
which has persecuted me from boyhood! Be it so!--I must clutch at the
remedy--the fearful remedy--I must revoke!"
He shuddered, and covered his face with his hands. There had been one
struggle with his will, there was now another with his despair. He
moaned aloud--scalding tears trickled through his poor, wasted fingers,
and his whole being bowed before the supremacy of this last great
sorrow. Once--only once, he uttered a sharp cry, and for a moment his
convulsed countenance was raised to heaven. Then his head fell upon the
table, and his wretchedness found vent in low, heart-rending sobs.
And thus he spent another long hour. Finally he looked up to heaven and
tried to murmur a few words of resignation. But the spectre of his
useless strivings still haunted his mind. "All my plans to be buried in
the grave--not one trace of my reign left to posterity!" sighed the
unhappy monarch. "But enough of repining. I have resolved to make the
sacrifice--it is time to act!"
He clutched his bell, and ordered a page to summon the privy-councillor
from the adjoining room.
"Now," said the emperor, "let us work. My hand is too tremulous to hold
a pen; you must write for me.--First, in regard to Hungary. Draw up a
manifesto, in which I restore their constitution in all its integrity."
He paused for a few moments, and wiped the large drops of cold sweat
which were gathering over his forehead. "Do you hear?" continued he; "I
revoke all my laws except one, and that is, the edict of religious
toleration. I promise to convoke the imperial diet, and to replace the
administration of justice upon its old footing. I repeal the laws
relating to taxes and conscription, I order the Hungarian crown to be
returned to Ofen, and, as soon as I shall have recovered from my
illness, I promise to take the coronation-oath. [Footnote: This is the
revocation edict, which, promulgated a few weeks before the death of
Joseph, caused such astonishment throughout Europe--Gross-Hoffinger,
iii., p. 290.] Write this out and bring it to me for signature. Then
deliver it into the hands A Count Palfy. He will publish it to the
Hungarians.
"So much for Hungary!--Now for Tyrol. Draw up a second manifesto. I
repeal the conscription-act, as well as all my reforms with respect to
the church. When this is ready, bring it to me for signature; and
dispatch a courier with it to the imperial stadtholder. Having satisfied
the exactions of Hungary and Tyrol, it remains to restore order in the
Netherlands. But there, matters are more complicated, and I fear that no
concession on my part will avail at this late hour. I must trample my
personal pride in the dust, then, and humble myself before the pope!
Yes--before the pope! I will write, requesting him to act as mediator,
and beg his holiness to admonish the clergy to make peace with me.
[Footnote: Gross-Hoffinger, iii., p.379] Why do you look so sad, my
friend? I am making my peace with the world; I am drawing a pen across
the events of my life and blotting out my reforms with ink. Make out
these documents at once, and send me a courier for Rome. Meanwhile I
will write to the pope. Appearing before him as a petitioner, it is
incumbent upon me to send an autographic letter. Return to me in an
hour."
When, one hour later, the privy-councillor re-entered the cabinet, the
letter to the pope lay folded and addressed on the table. But this last
humiliation had been too much for the proud spirit of the emperor to
brook.
He lay insensible in his chair, a stream of blood oozing slowly from his
ghastly lips.