Chapter XIII (1)

Prince Charles’s Will--Hélène receives the news of her husband’s death--Departure for Werky--Hélène marries Count Potocki 257

IV

Arrival of the Prince-Bishop in Paris--Letters from Madame de Pailly--Letters from the Princesse de Ligne-Lichtenstein--The Abbé Baudeau at Bel Œil--Arrival of the de Lignes in Paris--Marriage of Hélène and Prince Charles--Their departure for Brussels.

The Prince-Bishop at last decided to start for Paris. He had hardly arrived when he received a visit from Madame de Pailly, who informed him of his niece’s inclinations, and explained to him the progress of affairs. The Bishop earnestly requested to see the Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg herself, but at that moment she was staying with Madame de Brionne at her country place of Limours. Madame de Pailly at once resumes her pen:--

“The Prince-Bishop, Madame, is always inquiring whether you have returned; he is extremely desirous to have the honour of seeing you, and I should be very glad if you could seriously discuss the matter with him.

“Occasions on which I can prove to you my zeal and entire devotion will not be wanting with so vacillating a mind; you will be able to say through me anything you please. I will see to everything, and render you a faithful account of what happens. But it seems to me that we must settle between ourselves what is to be the point of departure. He has referred several times to the question of settlements, especially with regard to the present. Would it not be better to present him with a copy of the deed of property? It would hurry on the transaction, and be a wise measure.

“The Prince de Salm’s agents are very active; he constantly alludes to him, and he listens to my replies as if they were quite new to him; he goes on confiding to my ear all the proposals that are made to him. We have three fresh rivals, who, for the present, however, give me no anxiety.”

The desired explanations at last arrived from Brussels, in the following letter:--

THE PRINCESSE DE LIGNE-LICHTENSTEIN TO THE PRINCESSE DE LIGNE-LUXEMBOURG.

“I trust, Princess, you do not doubt the tenderness of my feelings towards you; the gratitude I now owe you can only increase it.

“I have the honour to enclose the paper concerning M. de Ligne’s property. For the last year he has put all his affairs into my hands, and as I sign everything and collect all the revenues, and M. de Ligne even gives me the receipts for the money he draws from the estates, I can guarantee the exactness of the document.

“I am too sure of my husband’s affection for you, Princess, and the confidence he has in your judgment, not to feel certain that he will agree to any arrangement you may choose to make for his son. I beg to entreat you, Madame, in case you should think an income of twenty-five thousand livres[1] not sufficient for the present, to fix the sum yourself, for I only require one more year to settle the affairs of our house (public opinion having kindly reported that they were in a much more confused state than I found them to be). I can promise you to honour any arrangements and liabilities that you will undertake for our young people. All they will have to do when they draw their income every three months will be to sign their names. I have made it a rule in business to consider as sacred the dates on which income or pensions fall due.

“The affection I bear towards my children leading me perhaps to overlook their faults, it would ill become me to praise our son, but I must believe the testimony of those who knew him at Strasburg during several years; and at the present moment we have every reason to be satisfied with the character he bears in the army.

“Pray, therefore, do not relax your kindness towards him, and let your efforts conduce to his happiness. You will also be contributing towards mine, for to see him settled and to be surrounded by my children will be my greatest joy.

“Receive, Princess, the assurance of my deepest respect and esteem,” etc. etc.

This letter had a wonderful effect on the uncle, but did not move his niece.

“The young lady,” writes Madame de Pailly, “is infatuated with M. de Salm; he has some emissary about her whom we do not know, and who demolishes beforehand all we can say against him. Even the Comte de Horn’s name has been brought forward as an honour, on account of the Regent’s phrase[2] about him.

“The good uncle feels his own weakness, and carefully endeavours to hide it; he has agreed to everything with me, and, as I have been fortunate enough to persuade him, he fancies I shall have the same success with his niece, as if they were in the same frame of mind. To-day he is going to use all his influence, and at the same time inform her of the visit he wishes me to make, and of the entire trust he desires she should have in me. I shall lend myself to all his wishes, and shall have the honour of sending you a report of this interview. Receive, I pray,” etc.

The uncle did not meet with the slightest success in his efforts to overcome his niece’s resistance. Madame de Pailly was obliged to confess it to her correspondent: “There is one point, Madame, on which I think you will be obliged to give way; the Bishop asserts that he can only overcome his niece’s passionate wish to be married in Paris by pledging his word that she shall spend three winters there under your guidance, so as to get accustomed to the fashionable world. He appears to attach great importance to this promise; for he feels the great advantage it would be to his niece. You still have time, Madame, to think over this matter, for we can discuss the other points in the meantime; I will tell you what they are when I see you....”

The Princesse de Ligne kept her nephew informed of all these negotiations; as for the Prince’s father, he was still detained with the army, waiting for peace to be signed. Prince Charles wrote a short cold note to his aunt, in which he did not even allude to his marriage:--

“MY DEAR AUNT--Although peace has been declared the Congress is not yet over; my father is very displeased at it; he is still in a wretched village, feeling very dull, with nothing to do.

“He will certainly go to Paris as soon as he can; I envy him the pleasure he will have in seeing you, my dear aunt.

“Allow me to assure you from time to time of the feelings of affection and respect with which I remain all my life,” etc. etc.

The coolness the Prince displayed will be easily understood when we learn that he already felt for a friend of his childhood a love which was never completely effaced. But, accustomed as he was absolutely to respect the paternal or rather the _maternal_ will, it never entered his mind for one moment not to obey.

His mother had eagerly agreed to their cousin’s plans. Hélène’s large fortune, the isolated position of the young girl, which would tend to make her adopt her husband’s family as her own, had quite won over the Princess, who ignored or pretended to ignore her son’s secret affection. She therefore persevered in her efforts, hoping to succeed, though the object in view was not easy to attain.

The Bishop of Wilna had been won over to the de Lignes, but he had many a hard battle to fight, for an unforeseen circumstance had strengthened Hélène’s resolution not to leave Paris. Her friend, Mademoiselle de Lauraguais, had married the Duc Auguste d’Aremberg, cousin of the de Lignes, who, like him, resided for part of the year at the Court of Brussels. The young Duchess returned to Paris for some time, and at once visited her former companions at the Abbaye-aux-Bois. She had heard of Prince Charles’ proposed marriage, and gave Hélène a most gloomy description of life in Brussels. The latter immediately repeated this to her uncle, making the picture several shades darker. The poor Bishop did not know who to listen to; in the midst of his perplexities he determined to despatch the Abbé Baudeau, who was always at hand, to Bel Œil,[3] giving him instructions to confer verbally with the Princesse de Ligne on the delicate subject of a residence in Paris, as well as on the money question. He was allowed great latitude on this latter point, and accordingly set off.

Madame de Pailly lost no time, and again wrote to the Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg: “We have had news of the envoy, Madame, and we hear he is much pleased with everything, but he sends word that Madame la Princesse de Ligne will not hear of a three years’ residence in Paris.

“The Bishop appeared to me very much disturbed at the effect this would have on his niece, as she had always held to this condition. You know there is nothing more difficult to overcome than the fancies of a young person, and unfortunately she has been confirmed in this one by all that Madame d’Aremberg de Lauraguais has told her. The Abbé will arrive perhaps to-day; I shall be there, and we will first work upon the uncle, so as to make him work upon his niece.

“M. de Salm will not give way; he has sent his picture to his friend at the Convent, and she has invited the Princess Hélène to a collation, given in a room of which this portrait forms the chief ornament.

“I was at the opera with a lady who is much interested in this fine gentleman, and she said: ‘What does it signify whether you are a scamp or not when you have a name and a large fortune? Look, for instance, at so and so,’ etc.

“God forbid that such morality should enter the head of our prelate and his niece. In the meantime I amused myself last night by quietly challenging my free-spoken young friend to tell me all the naughty stories about this charming Prince. The good Bishop bore it with a slightly embarrassed air, which quite amused me.

“I shall have the honour, Madame, to give you an account of the envoy’s return, and of all its consequences. I beg you not to be impatient, and to rely on my zeal and my intense desire to do all that is agreeable to you.

“Receive,” etc.

It was not long before the Abbé returned, and, though he had not succeeded in obtaining the promise of a residence in Paris, he had done much to push the matter forward. He brought magnificent fruit and flowers to the young Princess from Bel Œil, and in the description he gave of the almost regal magnificence of the place he neglected none of the details which were likely to charm and flatter her vanity. He had granted handsome pecuniary conditions, and the Princess, on her part, had seemed disposed to accept the marriage-contract proposed by the Abbé.

MADAME DE PAILLY TO THE PRINCESSE DE LIGNE-LUXEMBOURG.

“All is going on wonderfully well, Madame; you will find the Prince and his envoy very well satisfied. At dinner we had a melon from Bel Œil, and peaches were sent to the Princess Hélène. I proposed the health of the giver; but they will tell you the rest. I am rejoiced at the position of affairs.

“The Abbé may have every possible fault, but he confirms me in my opinion that one can do nothing with fools and everything with intelligent people. The young Princess is converted, and her good uncle, agreeing to the Abbé’s expedient, says: ‘It will cost me thirty thousand livres[4] a year more to make my niece happy. I will do it, Madame, if only you are satisfied.’”

The Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg wrote to her cousin to give her this good news, and to urge her to come to Paris as soon as possible; but she was in no hurry, and, like a prudent mother, wished above all, to settle everything relating to the income and household arrangements of the future young couple, for whom she dreaded certain temptations, from which she herself had suffered. She again sent her steward to Paris with two letters, one of which was a confidential one to her cousin.

BEL ŒIL, _19th January 1779_.

“I despatch you my steward, Princess; he will have the honour of handing you this letter, and I have instructed him to carry out exactly whatever you are kind enough to order.

“The Prince arrived at Vienna on the 5th of June; I therefore think he will soon be home again, in which case I should only go to Paris with him, or even a couple of days later, if I can possibly avoid going before.

“In any case, Princess, I shall await your orders. I reserve myself the pleasure of assuring you personally of all my gratitude. I have never doubted the success of anything which you were good enough to take in hand.

“As our young people will not have to receive, and as the ordinary expenses of the household cannot possibly absorb all their income, I fear that too large a fortune may be hurtful to them, and lead perhaps to gambling, or other extravagances, which would do them harm, and which they would always consider themselves obliged to increase in proportion to their income; especially when they will come into their respective fortunes. I look at this matter from a mother’s point of view. Pray do not let it go beyond the family.”

The Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg told the Bishop of her cousin’s wise advice, but no attention was paid to it. The Congress of Teschen was over, and the Prince de Ligne was returning home slowly, for he always found much to delay him on the road. We will not inquire into the nature of these delays; he, however, found sufficient time to write a few lines from Vienna to his cousin, and to the Bishop of Wilna, which he had neglected doing for the last two months.

TO THE PRINCESSE DE LIGNE-LUXEMBOURG.

“I am told, Princess, that, thanks to your kindness, all is going on well, also that you have done me the honour of writing to me.... I have not received anything. They say I must write to the Bishop. I beg you will give him the enclosed letter.

“If you have any commands to give me, address them to the Post Office at Munich; I shall find them in passing through.

“All the information I receive from Poland appears to coincide with our views.

“I place myself at your feet, Princess, and beg to assure you that my gratitude is equal to my tender and respectful attachment.

“LE PRINCE DE LIGNE.”

A few days after the receipt of this letter they had agreed upon all points; a draft of the settlement was drawn up, and the Princesse de Ligne and her son announced their arrival.

In spite of the very small inclination the young Prince felt for this marriage, he experienced a certain curiosity to see his future bride. As for Hélène, she was far more interested in her outfit, her presents, and her diamonds than in her husband. Among other things, she had been promised “certain girandoles[5] and diamond bracelets of wonderful beauty--old family jewels, that she was most impatient to see, and she was in a great fright lest they should be left behind at Brussels.” Her future aunt undertook to explain this childlike anxiety to the wife of the steward, so that she might remind the Princess to bring these precious trinkets. She answered as follows:--

“On my return home I found a letter from the Princess, announcing her immediate arrival, and adding that she is bringing with her the girandoles and the bracelets; so the Princesse Hélène need have no cause for anxiety. I shall have the honour of paying her my respects on Monday. We have also heard, through M. le Comte Tasson, that M. le Prince de Ligne will reach Brussels, at the latest, on Monday. I hasten to apprise your Highness of the fact, and beg she will accept the assurance of deepest respect,” etc.

The Princesse de Ligne’s first visit was to her cousin. She there found the Prince-Bishop awaiting her arrival. After a long conversation and endless compliments on either side, it was settled that the Bishop should escort the Princess and her son to the Abbaye-aux-Bois.

Hélène, who had been warned the day before, was very much vexed at having to make her first appearance in her school dress; but no exception could be made to the rule. She went down to the parlour accompanied by Madame de Sainte Delphine, and very soon perceived that the plainness of her dress did not prevent the Prince from thinking her very pretty. Though she pretended to cast her eyes modestly down during the visit, she took care to see enough of her future husband to be able to say to her companions on returning: “He is fair, has a tall slight figure, and resembles his mother, who is very handsome; he has a noble mien, but he is too serious, and there is something German about him!”

The Prince’s father arrived three days later.

“I abandon M. de Ligne to your indignation, Princess,” his wife writes to their cousin; “you may prepare her for his arrival, which will certainly be either to-day or to-morrow; it fills me with the greatest joy!”

The Prince-father had his head completely turned by his future daughter-in-law, who did all she could to please him, intuitively feeling that he was the one with whom she could best sympathise.

Having no family in Paris, it was decided that Hélène’s marriage should be celebrated in the chapel of the Abbaye-aux-Bois, to the great delight of the pupils. The Bishop gave his niece an outfit worth a hundred thousand écus;[6] the wedding casket, offered by the Lignes, was provided by Léonard; the laces, ordered at Brussels and Mechlin, were real masterpieces of work. The jewels offered to Hélène, besides the family diamonds and the famous girandoles, were chosen by herself at Barrière’s and at Drey’s. She gave a trinket to each of her companions in the red class, and a magnificent luncheon, _with ices_, was given by the Prince-Bishop to all the pupils, including the _little blues_, who each received in addition a bag of sweetmeats.

The marriage-contract was signed at Versailles by their Majesties and the royal family, the 25th of July 1779. The wedding took place on the 29th at the Abbaye-aux-Bois.

It is needless to add that Hélène’s nurse, Mademoiselle Bathilde Toutevoix, took part in the festivities. She adorned her pretty mistress to the very best of her ability, and the poor girl’s head was so completely turned with joy that she even forgot her cockades.[7] She came down to the parlour after the bride, and modestly hid herself in a corner. Prince Charles approached her, and slipped into her hand his wedding present--an annuity of six hundred livres.[8] Hélène was much touched with this attention. “I thanked him,” she says, “by a smile and pressure of the hand, the first I had granted him.”

The bride was led to the altar by her uncle, and by the Marquise Wielopolska, who took the place of her mother. The Duchesses de Choiseul, de Mortemart, de Châtillon, de la Vallière, etc., were present at the ceremony. The young Princess, exquisitely lovely in her bridal dress, fully satisfied the company by her “decent attitude, which was full of feeling” (style of that day). After receiving the congratulations of the brilliant assembly, Hélène went up to her apartment to change her costume; but, instead of returning immediately to the parlour, she quickly made her way to the choir chapel, where Madame de Rochechouart was buried, and kneeling on the tomb of the one who had been to her as a mother, she offered up to God her last girlish prayer. When she returned to the parlour she was rather pale, and her eyes showed signs of tears; but at the gates of the Abbey a post-chaise, drawn by six chafing horses, was awaiting; the postilions, in the pink and silver livery of the Prince, being scarcely able to hold them; Hélène, after a rapid farewell, was hurried into the carriage by her young husband, and they started at full gallop for Brussels.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] One thousand pounds sterling.

[2] The Comte de Horn, a connection of the Regent through his mother, the Princess-Palatine, was condemned to death for murder. The family implored his pardon, appealing to the Regent on the ground of relationship. “When I have bad blood,” the Regent coldly replied, “I have it drawn,” and the pardon was refused.

It is probable that they boasted to Hélène of the connection between the Horn and Orléans families without mentioning the Count’s crime.

[3] Bel Œil was the summer residence of the Princes de Ligne, and will often be referred to later on.

[4] Twelve hundred pounds sterling.

[5] Large diamond earrings that were worn with the Court dress.

[6] The Princesse Hélène received as her marriage-portion Mogylani, an estate with a residence and country-houses, two palaces at Cracow and one at Warsaw. Prince Radziwill owed the Massalski family a sum of one million eight hundred thousand Polish florins, inherited through Hélène’s mother. He had given them as interest three important estates, of which half the income belonged to Hélène, and the other half to her brother. The Prince-Bishop promised to give and guarantee the Princess, from her wedding-day, a clear income of sixty thousand livres, payable in Paris, and to pay all their expenses in the event of their remaining in that city.

On the other hand, the Prince de Ligne promised to give his son, on his wedding-day, a revenue of thirty thousand livres, and in addition to lodge the pair at Brussels, or Bel Œil, or Vienna, in one of his palaces or residences. If they had any children, at the end of four years the Prince promised to double the sum of money.

[7] She was in the habit of bedizening herself with them, and Hélène does not forget to mention in her memoranda that on that day she forgot them.

[8] Twenty-four pounds sterling.

V

An entertainment at Bel Œil--The Ligne family--The Court at Brussels--Prince Charles of Lorraine--The ladies at Court--Letter of the Chevalier de l’Isle--The Prince de Ligne at Versailles--The Prince’s letter to his son Charles.

The young couple first established themselves at Bel Œil, the magnificent summer residence of the Prince de Ligne. The Marshal was passionately attached to this regal abode, on which his father had lavished several millions. The property was composed of a succession of gardens, forests, parks, mansions, and shooting boxes, which the Prince de Ligne had designed with the most perfect taste. It was here that he preferred receiving his guests, and that he successively entertained the Prince de Condé, the King of Sweden, the Comte d’Artois, Prince Henry of Prussia, etc. Hélène was dazzled by the splendour of her new abode. A brilliant reception had been prepared in her honour. On the very day after her arrival, which had taken place in the evening, the young Princess, on opening her windows, perceived an immense park full of villagers elegantly attired as shepherds and shepherdesses, their dresses more like those of Watteau and Lancret than those commonly worn by the Flemish peasants. The Prince’s dragoons were making merry at tables on the lawn; and a little farther off, in a grove, might be seen puppet shows, in another tight-rope dancers; a rural ballroom was established on a green sward; under a leafy bower a magician was distributing sham ointments in little boxes, which contained sweetmeats and trinkets. In another spot a bard was gaily reciting verses, composed by the Prince in honour of the newly-married pair; and if the composition was not brilliant in versification, it yet could boast of grace and art sufficient to compensate for its defects; finally, Aufresne and Préville, who had arrived that same morning from Paris, were playing improvised proverbs in the private theatre of the residence. The festivities lasted the whole day; after dinner the proverbs were replaced by a comedy in one act, with interludes of song, entitled, _Colette and Lucas_, composed by the Prince de Ligne in honour of his daughter-in-law.[9] The audience was composed of brilliant officers and fine ladies, who had come expressly from Brussels and even Versailles for the occasion. The play, though worthless, was courteously applauded; but another had been prepared in order to compensate the spectators. Night having come on during the representation, sudden floods of light springing up in brilliant sheaves between the trees greeted the guests as they emerged from the theatre, and in the thickets fairy-like illuminations lit up the arbours; it was impossible to see the lamps, cleverly hidden under the foliage. “It was not night,” says Hélène: “it was silvery daylight.”

The married couple appeared enchanted one with the other, with a shade more of tenderness on the part of the Prince. Hélène’s beauty, grace, and intelligence surprised and charmed him; he had not expected to find these qualities united in the person of a child of fifteen. Every one was under the same impression, and the Dowager-Princess herself, who was not easy to please, wrote as follows, some time after the wedding, to the Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg:--

BEL ŒIL, _20th August 1779_.

“Again I renew my thanks, Princess, and reiterate the expressions of gratitude I owe you. Our child is most charming, docile, and gentle, having no will of her own, and amused at everything; in fact all that could be desired in a daughter-in-law if she were moulded by one’s self. She has been quite a success with all who have seen her in these parts.

“As our children have both had the honour of writing to you, I will not, for fear of repetition, give you the details of our journey. Moreover, his Grace the Bishop of Wilna will have told you all; he appeared himself very well pleased with our country. Do try, Princess, to make him send my son his niece’s portrait, in whatever style he prefers, even if it be that little pencil drawing we saw at the Abbaye-aux-Bois; and do not doubt, Princess, of the tender sentiments,” etc. etc.

The Prince-Bishop had indeed been delighted with his stay in Flanders; the amiability of the family of Ligne, the harmonious relationship existing between its members, the distinguished intelligence and the kindness of Prince Charles in particular, all contributed to assure him of his niece’s future happiness. He left her thoroughly satisfied.

For the first time Hélène was going to be acquainted with family life; she could not have had a better beginning, for the Lignes lived together with an intimacy full of ease, gaiety, and tenderness. In her convent life the little Princess, with the selfishness natural to children, had only thought of herself, and was not accustomed to the daily sacrifices made by brothers and sisters, which are made easy and rewarded by a mother’s approval and kiss. She had a serious apprenticeship to undergo. She preferred her father-in-law and the Princess Clary, her sister-in-law, to all the other members of her family. The Princess Clary, the Prince’s eldest and favourite daughter, “his masterpiece,” as he called her, was kindness, grace, and affability itself. Married some four years, gifted with sound judgment and perfect tact, she would have been an affectionate and charming guide to her young sister-in-law at the outset of her married life; but it was not possible for her to assume this position, which naturally devolved upon the Princess-mother, who, jealous of her rights, would have ceded her authority to no one.

The Princesse de Ligne played an important part, if not in the heart of her husband, at least in his household. The Prince willingly rendered justice to his wife’s qualities; he was full of consideration for her, and treated her always with amiable deference. “My wife,” he said, “is an excellent wife, full of delicacy, feeling, nobility, and in no way selfish. She is often in a pet, but her temper soon passes away, melting in tears and leaving no trace, for my wife has an excellent heart.” It was not difficult for the Prince to resign himself to his wife’s temper, for it affected him very slightly. Such was not the case with her children; it must, however, be admitted that she had often good cause for her unevenness of temper. Not only was her husband constantly and openly faithless to her, but he also squandered his fortune, and in spite of the large revenues he possessed would often have been involved in serious difficulties had it not been for the watchful care of the Princess, who by her clever administration established a proper balance between their income and expenditure. However, in spite of the Princess’s rather uncertain temper, the unvarying cheerfulness and good humour of the Prince made it a delightful home, for he possessed the rare quality of being as charming at home as in society.

Hélène thoroughly enjoyed her new life, and eagerly threw herself into the pursuit of pleasures entirely new to a little schoolgirl. She at once learnt to ride. Dressed in an elegant riding-habit, made to display her delicate and supple figure to perfection, and accompanied by her husband, she would spring into the saddle the first thing in the morning, as light as a bird, and as pleased with her liberty; then three or four times a day, with childlike glee, she would array herself in new dresses from Léonard or Mademoiselle Bertin; and we may be sure that they in no way resembled the little black convent-frock. At all the entertainments given in honour of her wedding, she fascinated everybody by her grace and liveliness; she danced with such spirit, acted so naturally and with so much animation, sang with a voice so youthful and fresh, that her husband, though not sharing her worldly tastes, was happy in her pleasure, and allowed her to give herself up to it without restraint.

Immediately after her arrival Hélène was presented at the Court of the Netherlands. The Ligne family possessed a magnificent palace at Brussels, near the Cathedral of Sainte Gudule, and often resided there during the winter. At that time the Viceroy was Prince Charles of Lorraine; he had married the Archduchess Marie-Anne,[10] sister of Marie-Thérèse, and was now a widower.

The Prince of Lorraine often came to hunt at Bel Œil. “He could not help being kind, even in his fits of temper, which were rare. One day, for instance, while hunting, on which occasion he gave himself the airs of an old huntsman, enraged at a number of people who disturbed the hunt by overrunning the forest at Bel Œil, he called out: ‘Go to the devil!--if you please, gentlemen,’ he added, taking off his hat.”

The liveliest, wittiest, and most fashionable man at the Court of Brussels was certainly the Prince de Ligne’s father, and he enjoyed his life there extremely. “It was,” he says, “a nice Court, gay and at the same time secure, idle and agreeable, with plenty of drinking and hunting.” However, when the Duke held a levee, and invited ladies, nothing but the most inoffensive gaiety was permitted, for the Prince hated all license and bad taste.

Prince Charles’s palace at Brussels was an immense and ancient building. Brussels reminded one somewhat of Paris, the town offering every kind of resource. The _cours_ was the favourite promenade, and there the grandest equipages were to be seen. The coachbuilders of Brussels were famous, and the Duke was anxious that the nobility should possess the most elegant specimens of their work. Hélène made her first appearance on the _cours_ in a superb gilt coach made by Simon; all the panels were delicately painted, in the most beautiful _vernis Martin_,[11] by clever Viennese artists.

In spite of his love for the Court of Brussels and his passion for Bel Œil, the Prince never stayed very long at either; he generally started off at a moment’s notice. “What a charming existence mine was, in my dear and delightful Bel Œil. In twenty-four hours’ time I could be either in Paris or in London, at the Hague, at Spa, etc. Once I went to Paris to spend one hour there, and another hour at Versailles, after the Queen’s last confinement: _I saw her on the fourth day_,” he carefully adds.

“On another occasion I took all my company there to the opera in a coach of my own.”

It was natural that the Prince should like Paris and Versailles, for he was the soul and life of the little intimate circle around the Queen; his presence gave animation to everything, and his invariable good humour and sallies of wit always secured him a smiling welcome. He was to be seen everywhere, arranging or disarranging the gardens; presiding at entertainments and directing the illuminations: he took part in the Queen’s lansquenet, Mesdames’ cavagnole, Monsieur’s whist, the Prince de Condé’s quinze, the King’s game of billiards, and the Prince de Conti’s pharaon.[12] He said everything that came into his head; but although he gave way to much exaggerated merriment, from time to time, under cover of a joke, he would make many serious truths acceptable.

His great friends were the Polignacs,[13] whose intimate society consisted of the Coignys, the Conflans, the Comte de Vaudreuil, and the Chevalier de l’Isle. He always defended the Polignacs against the numerous accusations which were brought against them.

He writes: “There is no one more virtuous and more disinterested than all these Jules, but their company was sometimes monotonous, so great was their fear of giving rise to prating and gossip; the Comtesse Diane was the only one whose conversation was at all lively.”

The Prince was particularly intimate with the Chevalier de l’Isle,[14] the least known member of the little circle. The Chevalier was an excellent officer, an encyclopedist, and a poet, a correspondent of Voltaire[15] and also of the Prince de Ligne, who held him in great esteem. He was a master of song, and reigned supreme in the art of letter-writing. He had never composed a faulty verse, or written a letter that was not both witty and in excellent style; however, in society he was wanting both in good taste and breeding, giving way to ill-temper and familiarity. So as to make believe that he dined with the Queen at the Polignacs on Sundays, he would arrive the first after dinner, that those who came after him should be deceived by this manœuvre. He wrote regularly to the Prince about all that went on at Versailles during his absence. The following is an example of his letters:--

_16th January 1780._

“What a turkey we have just eaten at the Comtesse Diane’s! My goodness, what a fine bird! M. de Poix had sent it from the poultry-yard. There were eight of us round it: the lady of the house, Madame la Comtesse Jules, Madame d’Henin, and Madame de la Force; M. le Comte d’Artois, M. de Vaudreuil, the Chevalier de Crussol, and myself.

“While we were eating the turkey, but without reference to it, some one mentioned you, my Prince. Stay, let me recall who it was? A lady----no; a man--yes, certainly a man, for he said _Charlot_, and our ladies are not given to such familiarities. It was the man who was on Madame la Comtesse Jules’ left hand. Let me see; I was next to the poet; here sat the Chevalier de Crussol, and there M. de Vaudreuil, and then----Ah! now I’ve got it, it was M. le Comte d’Artois; yes, I am sure of it now. He said: ‘By the bye, who can tell me if Charlot has arrived at Brussels?’--‘I can, your Highness, for I have received four lines in his own handwriting, and am myself going to write to him; who has any message to send?’ All immediately answered in a chorus: ‘I have, I have, I have.’ In the confusion I could distinguish these words: ‘I embrace him, I love him; tell him to come, we expect him.’ When the hubbub had subsided the soft voice of Madame la Comtesse Jules commenced more audibly: ‘Tell him that if he had dated his last letter more distinctly, I would not have failed to answer it; but that, although assisted by several experts in the art of deciphering, it was impossible for me even to suspect from what place it had been written, and consequently to what place I should direct my own.’

“Thereupon we conversed about you, and then about Admiral Keppel, then of the turkey, then of the capture of our two frigates, then of the Spanish Inquisition, then of a large gruyere cheese which our ambassador in Switzerland has just sent his children, then of the strange conduct of the Spaniards towards us, and at last of Mademoiselle Théodore, who, upon my life, dances better than ever, and who pleased us yesterday as much by her talent as Mademoiselle Cécile by her youthful charms. To-morrow the Queen will receive for the first time; till now she has only seen those who have the ‘_petites entrées_’; she is rather thinner, but otherwise her health leaves nothing to be desired. The King is still the good husband, the good father, and the good man he has always been; it is impossible to be near him without admiring him as the personification of honesty, and without being sincerely attached to his person. I assure you we are fortunate in possessing such a royal couple: may God preserve them on the throne where His goodness has placed them!... We are all going to-morrow to Paris to inaugurate the charming little house M. le Duc de Coigny has bought, and in which we shall have----What do you think we shall have?----Our first grand entertainment--a regular house-warming. We shall have farces, proverbs, verses, songs, and pleasures of all kinds; it will be a beautiful ceremony.

“_À propos_ of verses: you have not seen those I wrote the other day for the Queen, threatening to play her the trick she most dreads--that is, to name her at the opera ball. Here it is:--

“Dans ce temple ou l’incognito
Règne avec la folie,
Vous n’êtes grâce au domino
Ni reine in jolie.
Sous ce double déguisement
Riant d’être ignorée,
Je vous nomme et publiquement
Vous serez adorée.[16]

“I implore you, Prince, my very dear Prince, do not massacre my song in honouring me by singing it yourself; leave that care to my cousin, who will give it its full value; love her for me, and tell her I shall go to Brussels, on my head if necessary, to see her; you must love me, both of you.”[17]

The Queen was an object of devotion to the Prince de Ligne. “Who could see the unfortunate Marie Antoinette without adoring her?” he writes thirty years later.[18] “I only realised it the day she said to me: ‘My mother is displeased at your remaining so long at Versailles; go and spend some days at your post; from thence write letters to Vienna, in order to show where you are, then come back.’ Such kindness, such delicacy on her part, and still more the idea of having to spend a fortnight without seeing her, drew tears from my eyes; but the charming heedlessness, which preserved her from all coquetry prevented her noticing my emotion.

“As I do not believe in a passion which cannot be reciprocated, a fortnight was sufficient to cure me of a sentiment I now admit for the first time, and which, for fear of ridicule, I never should have confessed to any one else.... Have I ever seen in her society anything that did not bear the impress of grace, kindliness, and good taste? She intuitively knew an intriguer miles off, and hated every kind of deceit; that is why she preferred the society of the Polignacs and their friends--that is to say, Valentine Esterhazi, Bésenval, Vaudreuil, Ségur, and myself.”

If the Prince worshipped the Queen, on the other hand he had little esteem for the King. He writes: “The King--in whom I hoped to find some good qualities, whom it may be said I have protected, whose mind I have endeavoured to elevate by interesting discourses, instead of his hunting topics or idiotic conversation--cares for nothing but tomfoolery. His practical jokes are always aimed at Conflans, Coigny, or the Polignacs’ friends. The Queen has managed to cure him of this habit. It was at bedtime that his Majesty liked to worry us. He possessed, however, a certain tact in the midst of his rough jokes. One day, when he was threatening us with his blue ribbon, which he tried to throw at some one’s head, the Duc de Laval withdrew. The King said: ‘Do not fear, Monsieur; it has nothing to do with you.’... Coigny, the eternal fault-finder, said to me one day: ‘Would you like to know what these three brothers are? A fat locksmith, the wit of a country public-house, and a street fop.’ The two last epithets applied to Monsieur and the Comte d’Artois.”

When the Prince returned to Bel Œil he delighted his youthful daughter-in-law with these tales; for although she liked Flanders fairly well when not there alone with her mother-in-law, she could not help regretting Paris, when her husband’s duties recalled him to the army, and her fickle father-in-law went off on his incessant travels.

It will be remembered that the Dowager-Princess had absolutely refused to consent to a residence in Paris during the winter months. She was right, for although the officers generally returned to their respective capitals during the bad season, the military profession did not allow much leisure time, and Prince Charles, being in the Austrian service, would scarcely have been able to spend his leave in Paris. The young Princess would therefore have been left to the care of an aunt, who had no authority over her, or to that of a father-in-law, more absorbed in amusing himself than acting as mentor to his daughter-in-law. This delicate and dangerous position had naturally alarmed the Princesse de Ligne, but Hélène had not such foresight; the pleasure she anticipated of appearing in the brilliant society of which she had only just caught a glimpse outweighed any feelings of prudence, and she quite hoped to obtain her husband’s consent in the matter.

The first step consisted of her presentation at Court. Hélène had gained an ally in her aunt the Princess, who was quite ready to conduct her pretty niece to Versailles; but the latter wished to make her appearance there with all the honours of war--that is, with those of the _tabouret_.[19] This could only be obtained by virtue of certain rights. The rank of grandee of Spain was a sufficient title. The Prince de Ligne possessed this rank, and Hélène persuaded her husband to ask the Prince to make it over to him. Such a request was not a small affair. The young Prince was rather embarrassed, the more so that this request would entail another, that of a grant of money. Magnificent costumes and jewels, etc., had absorbed the largest part of the young couple’s income. However, incapable of refusing any wish of his wife’s, Prince Charles took heart, and decided upon writing. He immediately received from his father, who was then at Versailles, the most charming reply:--

VERSAILLES, _10th September 1780_.

“Is it not, my dear Charles, a droll thing to be married? You will manage to get on, for, after all, one is bound more or less according to circumstances. It is only fools who do not know how to turn the position to account: meanwhile you have a very pretty little wife, whom without false shame you may love. Although from father to son we have been called Lamoral, without knowing whether he is a saint, I am neither moral, moralist, nor moraliser enough to preach, and I make fun of those who do not believe in my morality, which consists in trying to make all around me happy. I feel quite sure that this is your case also; without having a whole array of principles, this is one of the four or five I have adopted as a second education: my first, as I told you, is, that to be a liar or a coward would bring me with sorrow to my grave. Certainly, my dear fellow, you have well understood this short lesson.

“And now, let us come to business. Take as much money as you require; my men of business must have it or obtain it; that is one subject done with.... The Queen said she will make my affair de Kœurs[20] a success, and, when I told her that my _affaires de cœur_ (love affairs) were successful, she said _I was a fool_. Kœurs settled, that makes two affairs done with. Your uncle, the Bishop of Wilna, who fancies that you or I may some day be King of Poland, wants us to obtain the _indigénat_; we shall get it, that is another affair terminated.

“Our aunt of the Tuileries wants your wife to have the _tabouret_; she has a fancy for going to Versailles, and for that purpose wishes me to cede to you the _grandezza_. I have already written to the King of Spain and to the minister on the subject, and have spoken of it to the ambassador. Fourth affair concluded, leaving me the prospect of taking cold, by being obliged to get down at the gates of the Court, where only the coaches of the grandees of Spain are allowed to enter, as in the Luxembourg and elsewhere.

“Here are two sources of economy for me!--the King’s play and _coucher_, which no longer cost me anything.

“What annoys me is to hear clever people say foolish things; to hear war discussed by idlers, who have never seen anything but military exercises, and those badly done; disinterestedness proclaimed by women who manage to get pensions by dint of tormenting the ministers and the Queen, who is a thousand times too kind; to hear sensibility professed by those who have had at least twenty lovers. And then, the intriguers! the obtrusive! and the wicked! How often this makes my blood boil, but a quarter of an hour later I forget it all.

“Shall I tell you a foolish saying of mine, considered as such by all the royal family? You know that at the town theatre I am under the King’s box, amongst the public; you will remember the mirror in _La fausse Magie_.[21] At the close of the play it was dreadfully cold, and the King complained of it, as well as of the coldness of the acting. I said: ‘It is because the _dénouement_ is _à la glace_.’[22] The two brothers[23] hooted me out loud for this pun. This existence at Versailles is delightful; it is like life in a country-house. I embrace your wife and your mother for having had wit enough to make me a Charles like yourself.

“_P.S._--By the bye, I had already planned in my head a grove for my Charles, a fountain that will bear the name of Hélène, and a bower for their children.

“I shall work at it as soon as I leave Versailles, to go and tell you, _tutti quanti_, that I love you with all my heart.”

FOOTNOTES:

[9] This comedy was printed in the private press at Bel Œil in 1781. The only copy known to be extant is in H.R.H. the Duc d’Aumale’s library at Chantilly.

[10] This brave and clever prince was a most unfortunate general. Beaten by the Prussians in 1742, while commanding the Austrian army in Bohemia, he was again defeated in Alsace in 1745. The affability of his manners, his artistic and literary tastes, his kindness of heart, endeared him to all, and his paternal rule is still remembered in Belgium. His generosity was boundless, and the considerable income he received (six hundred thousand florins of Brabant) did not suffice to cover his expenses. He ruined himself by his prodigality, but science and art prospered under him, and schools of paintings and colleges were established in every town. New roads were made; trade, then at a low ebb, received a fresh impulse; and a transport service was organised between the Flemish ports and those of Germany and France.

[11] A species of lacquer painting, at present revived in France.

[12] All different games of cards, in vogue at that time at the French Court.

[13] The Duchesse de Polignac, Gabrielle-Yolande-Martine de Polastron, an intimate friend of the Queen, was both amiable and beautiful. Expressive blue eyes, a high forehead, a nose very slightly turned up, a lovely mouth, with pretty little white teeth which were beautifully symmetrical, formed a most agreeable physiognomy. Her features bore the stamp of sweetness and modesty. At the age of seventeen she married the Comte Jules de Polignac.

[14] The Chevalier de l’Isle was a brigadier in the King’s cavalry, having been appointed on 25th July 1762. Very intimate with the Choiseul family and Madame du Deffant, he is mentioned in the latter’s correspondence.

[15] It was he who wrote a letter to the patriarch of Ferney about a badly-executed commission commencing as follows: “You must, sir, be very stupid,” etc. This beginning threw Voltaire into an ecstasy of delight.

[16]

In this temple, where incognito
Reigns as well as folly,
You are, thanks to the domino,
Neither queen nor beauty.
Under this twofold disguise,
Laughingly unknown,
Should I name you, then at once
You will be publicly adored.

[17] In order to elucidate this paragraph, we must explain that the Prince sang dreadfully out of tune, and that the pretended cousin was the lovely Angélique d’Hannetaire, daughter of the director of the theatre at Brussels; she sang beautifully, and was very intelligent; the Prince was madly in love with her at that time.

[18] See _Fragments of unedited Memoirs of the Prince de Ligne_, published in the _Revue Nouvelle_. Paris, 1840.

[19] To have the right of sitting down in the King or Queen’s presence.

[20] An estate of the Prince de Ligne in France, and about which he had a lawsuit; the name of the estate is pronounced like _cœurs_ (hearts), hence the Prince’s pun.

[21] _The false Magic_, a comic opera by Grétry.

[22] A pun on the word _glace_, which in French means either ice or a looking-glass.

[23] Monsieur and the Comte d’Artois.

VI

The two Princes journey to Berlin--Portrait of Frederick the Great--Journey to Saint Petersburg--Portrait of the Empress Catherine--Return journey through Poland--The Bishop’s residence at Werky--The Diet at Warsaw--The _Indigénat_--The return to Bel Œil.

The Prince had not spoken lightly when he said to his son that they would go to Poland for the _indigénat_.[24] In the midst of all the pleasures and amusements of Versailles he suddenly departed. “Family interests,” he says, “obliged me to undertake a long journey. My son Charles has married a pretty little Pole, but her family has given us paper in lieu of hard cash. Their claims were on the Russian Court; it was necessary to go and present them. In June 1780 I started for Vienna, Prague, Dresden, Berlin, Saint Petersburg, Warsaw, Cracow,--where I had much to do,--Mogylani,[25] Léopol, and Brunn,--where I was in love. I must not forget to add that I started from Paris and the Rue de Bourbon, from the house of the Duchesse de Polignac, who had just been confined,[26] and where I had dined with the Queen. I promised to return at the same hour in six months’ time, and ordered my livery coach and courier in consequence.”

The sum of money the Prince de Ligne claimed in the name of his daughter-in-law was considerable. It amounted to four hundred thousand roubles, which were well worth the trouble of recovering. However, we incline to the belief that these family affairs were merely a cloak for political designs; the journey was probably intended to carry on the preliminaries of a negotiation begun by Joseph II. and the Empress Catherine in their interview at Mohileff. The Prince started from Vienna, whither he had gone to receive his final instructions. His companions on the journey were his son Charles, and his friend the Chevalier de l’Isle.

“I made de l’Isle a colonel,” he says, “by simply saying when in Austria, Prussia, Poland, and Russia that he was one, and buying him a pair of epaulets. I was also obliged to knight him,” he adds, “in order to distinguish him in foreign parts from the Abbé of the same name.”[27]