Maria Theresa

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

it's 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 center of the room stood the Baron von Bartenstein and the Count

von Uhlfeld, 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 Uhlfeld fluttered a smile of ineffable complacency.

"I

feel perfectly secure," whispered 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 Uhlfeld. "She can reckon upon our

staunch 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 Uhlfled smiles

today. Doubtless he knows already what the decision of the empress is

to bel 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 today. I was

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

comprehend it's nature. I think, therefore that it will be well for

us to vote with Count von Uhlfeld – 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. He 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 leather armchairs 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 live. 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-bue eyes was as calm, cold, and unfeeling and 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 more 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 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 Colloredo. "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

councilors advanced to the table, and in respectful silence awaited

the imperial entrance.

The

rustling of silk was heard; and the 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 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 empress's gaze.

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

He

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

flitted over his stony features. Maria Theresa was one of the

loveliest women of her day. Though thirty-six and the mother of

thirteen children, she was still beautiful, and the Austrian's 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 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 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

brown of Maria Theresa; and now she approached her councilors, 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.

Now

,with her clear and sonorous voice she invited her councilors to also

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," she said in tones of deep earnestness, "we

have today a question of gravest importance 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

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 Uhlfeld. 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 Strasbourg, 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 the Austrian

empire from ruin. The brave Sobieski saved our capital, and Savoy

held Lombardy in check, while England and Holland guarded the

Netherlands, which since thes 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 were are indebted for Lombary; 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 to first 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 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 their good faith in

their dealings; for the integrity of the sovereign is a pledge to all

nations of the integrity of his people."

Count

Uhlfeld 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 Uhlfeld.

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 statesman that had spoken

before them. Bartenstein and Uhlfeld 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 it with his finger tips the tiny specks that fleck the

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

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

his repeated (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 it's strokes. The empress,

who was accustomed to visit the least manifestation of inattention on

the part of her councilors with open censure – the empress so

observant of form, and so exacting of its observance in others –

seemed singularly indulgent today; for while Kaunitz was listening to

the music of his watch, his imperial mistress looked on with half a

smile. At least, 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 all coldness and unconcern vanished from his

face. How glowed his eyes with the luster 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

flaovr 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 on 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?"

"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 friend

and treated as a

vassal; and I intend that these proud allies should 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 awestricken faces were pallid with fright. Uhlfeld

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

trencherman. He has already swallowed 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 Emmanuel, 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 Emmanuel is a soul of honor; still added Kaunitz, with a shake

of his head, and an incredulous smile, "still – the Italian

princes are abominable geographers – and they are inordinately fond

of artichokes. Now their fondness for this vegetable is as dangerous

to Austria as to 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 it and pressed it to his lips.

Count

Uhlfeld 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," she added, 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 closed, the lords of the council remained standing with

inclined head. 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 Uhlfeld was

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

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

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

which they had come 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 today are burnt to ashes! There is to be a soiree

tonight at Bartenstein's. For

the first time in eleven years I shall stay away."

"And

I," replied Colloredo, laughing, "had invited Uhlfeld for

tomorrow. 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 of Uhlfeld 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?"