CHAPTER LIII. A LOSS AND A GAIN
To apologise to my reader for not strictly tracing out each day of myhistory, would be, in all likelihood, as great an impertinence as thatof the tiresome guest who, having kept you two hours from your bed byhis uninteresting twaddle, asks you to forgive him at last for an abruptdeparture. I am already too full of gratitude for the patience that hasbeen conceded to me so far, to desire to trifle with it during the briefspace that is now to link us together. And believe me, kind reader,there is more in that same tie than perhaps you think, especially wherethe intercourse had been carried on, and, as it were, fed from month tomonth. In such cases the relationship between him who writes and him whoreads assumes something like acquaintanceship, heightened by a greaterdesire on one side to please than is usually felt in the routinebusiness of everyday life. Nor is it a light reward, if one can thinkthat he has relieved a passing hour of solitude or discomfort, shorteneda long wintry night, or made a rainy day more endurable. I speak nothere of the greater happiness in knowing that our inmost thoughtshave found their echo in far-away hearts, kindling noble emotions, andwarming generous aspirations--teaching courage and hope, by the verycommonest of lessons, and showing that, in the moral as in the vegetableworld, the bane and antidote grow side by side, and, as the eastern poethas it, 'He who shakes the tree of sorrow, is often sowing the seedsof joy.' Such are the triumphs of very different efforts from mine,however, and I come back to the humble theme from which I started.
If I do not chronicle the incidents which succeeded to the events ofmy last chapter, it is, in the first place, because they are mostimperfectly impressed upon my own memory; and, in the second, they areof a nature which, whether in the hearing or the telling, can affordlittle pleasure; for what if I should enlarge upon a text which runs buton suffering and sickness, nights of feverish agony, days of anguish,terrible alternations of hope and fear, ending, at last, in the sad, sadcertainty that skill has found its limit? The art of the surgeon can dono more, and Maurice Tiernay must consent to lose his leg! Such wasthe cruel news I was compelled to listen to as I awoke one morning,dreaming, and for the first time since my accident, of my life inKuffstein. The injuries I had received before being rescued from theDanube had completed the mischief already begun, and all chance ofsaving my limb had now fled. I am not sure if I could not have heard asentence of death with more equanimity than the terrible announcementthat I was to drag out existence maimed and crippled--to endure thehelplessness of age with the warm blood and daring passions of youth,and, worse than all, to forego a career that was already opening withsuch glorious prospects of distinction.
Nothing could be more kindly considerate than the mode of communicatingthis sad announcement; nor was there omitted anything which couldalleviate the bitterness of the tidings. The undying gratitude of theImperial family, their heartfelt sorrow for my suffering, the pains theyhad taken to communicate the whole story of my adventure to the EmperorNapoleon himself, were all insisted on; while the personal visits of thearchdukes, and even the emperor himself, at my sick-bed, were told to mewith every flattery such acts of condescension could convey. Let me notbe thought ungrateful, if all these seemed but a sorry payment for theterrible sacrifice I was to suffer; and that the glittering crosseswhich were already sent to me in recognition, and which now sparkled onmy bed, appeared a poor price for my shattered and wasted limb; and Ivowed to myself, that to be once more strong and in health I 'd changefortunes with the humblest soldier in the grand army.
After all, it is the doubtful alone can break down the mind and wastethe courage. To the brave man, the inevitable is always the endurable.Some hours of solitude and reflection brought this conviction to myheart, and I recalled the rash refusal I had already given to submit tothe amputation, and sent word to the doctors that I was ready. Mymind once made up, a thousand ingenious suggestions poured in theirconsolations. Instead of incurring my misfortune as I had done, mymischance might have originated in some commonplace or ingloriousaccident. In lieu of the proud recognitions I had earned, I might havenow the mere sympathy of some fellow-sufferer in a hospital; and insteadof the 'Cross of St. Stephen' and the 'valour medal' of Austria, myreward might have been the few sous per day allotted to an invalidedsoldier.
As it was, each post from Vienna brought me nothing but natteringrecognitions; and one morning a large sealed letter from Duroc conveyedthe Emperor's own approval of my conduct, with the cross of commander ofthe Legion of Honour. A whole life of arduous services might havefailed to win such prizes, and so I struck the balance of good and evilfortune, and found I was the gainer!
Among the presents which I received from the Imperial family was aminiature of the young archduchess, whose life I saved, and which I atonce despatched by a safe messenger to Marshal Marmont, engaging him tohave a copy of it made and the original returned to me. I concluded thatcircumstances must have rendered this impossible, for I never beheld theportrait again, although I heard of it among the articles bequeathedto the Duc de Reichstadt at St. Helena. Maria Louisa was, at that time,very handsome; the upper-lip and mouth were, it is true, faulty, and theAustrian-heaviness marred the expression of these features; but herbrow and eyes were singularly fine, and her hair of a luxuriant richnessrarely to be seen.
Count Palakzi, my young Hungarian friend, who had scarcely ever quittedmy bedside during my illness, used to jest with me on my admiration ofthe young archduchess, and jokingly compassionate me on the altered agewe lived in, in contrast to those good old times when a bold feat ora heroic action was sure to win the hand of a fair princess. I halfsuspect that he believed me actually in love with her, and deemed thatthis was the best way to treat such an absurd and outrageous ambition.To amuse myself with his earnestness, for such had it become, on thesubject, I affected not to be indifferent to his allusions, and assumedall the delicate reserve of devoted admiration. Many an hour have Ilightened by watching the fidgety uneasiness the young count felt at myfolly; for now, instead of jesting, as before, he tried to reason meout of this insane ambition, and convince me that such pretensions wereutter madness.
I was slowly convalescing, about five weeks after the amputation of myleg, when Polakzi entered my room one morning with an open letter in hishand. His cheek was flushed, and his air and manner greatly excited.
'Would you believe it, Tiernay,' said he, 'Stadion writes me word fromVienna, that Napoleon has asked for the hand of the young archduchess inmarriage, and that the emperor has consented.'
'And am I not considered in this negotiation?' asked I, scarcelysuppressing a laugh.
'This is no time nor theme for jest,' said he passionately; 'nor isit easy to keep one's temper at such a moment. A Hapsburgher princessmarried to a low Corsican adventurer! to the----'
'Come, Polakzi,' cried I, 'these are not the words for me to listen to;and having heard them, I may be tempted to say, that the honour comesall off the other side, and that he who holds all Europe at his feetennobles the dynasty from which he selects his empress.'
'I deny it--fairly and fully deny it!' cried the passionate youth. 'Andevery noble of this land would rather see the provinces of the empiretorn from us, than a princess of the Imperial House degraded to such analliance!'
'Is the throne of France, then, so low?' said I calmly.
'Not when the rightful sovereign is seated on it,' said he. 'But arewe, the subjects of a legitimate monarchy, to accept as equals the luckyaccidents of your revolution? By what claim is a soldier of fortune thepeer of king or kaiser? I, for one, will never more serve a cause sodegraded; and the day on which such humiliation is our lot shall be thelast of my soldiering'; and so saying, he rushed passionately from theroom, and disappeared.
I mention this little incident here, not as in any way connecting itselfwith my own fortunes, but as illustrating what I afterwards discoveredto be the universal feeling entertained towards this alliance. Low asAustria then was--beaten in every battle, her vast treasury confiscated,her capital in the hands of
an enemy, her very existence as an empirethreatened--the thought of this insult--for such they deemed it--tothe Imperial House, seemed to make the burden unendurable; and manywho would have sacrificed territory and power for a peace, would havescorned to accept it at such a price as this.
I suppose the secret history of the transaction will never be disclosed;but living as I did, at the time, under the same roof with the royalfamily, I inclined to think that their counsels were of a dividednature; that while the emperor and the younger archdukes gave afavourable ear to the project, the empress and the Archduke Charlesas steadily opposed it. The gossip of the day spoke of dreadful scenesbetween the members of the Imperial House, and some have since assertedthat the breaches of affection that were then made never were reconciledin after-life.
With these events of state or private history I have no concern. Myposition and my nationality of course excluded me from confidentialintercourse with those capable of giving correct information; nor can Irecord anything beyond the mere current rumours of the time. This much,however, I could remark, that all whom conviction, policy, or perhapsbribery, inclined to the alliance, were taken into court favour, andreplaced in the offices of the household those whose opinions wereadverse. A total change, in fact, took place in the persons of theroyal suite, and the Hungarian nobles, many of whom filled the 'HautesCharges,' as they are called, now made way for Bohemian grandees, whowere understood to entertain more favourable sentiments towards France.Whether in utter despair of the cause for which they had suffered solong and so much, or that they were willing to accept this alliance withthe oldest dynasty of Europe as a compromise, I am unable to say; butso was it. Many of the _emigre_ nobility of France, the unflinching,implacable enemies of Bonaparte, consented to bury their ancientgrudges, and were now seen accepting place and office in the Austrianhousehold. This was a most artful flattery of the Austrians, and waspeculiarly agreeable to Napoleon, who longed to legalise his position bya reconciliation with the old followers of the Bourbons, and who dreadedtheir schemes and plots far more than he feared all the turbulentviolence of the 'Faubourg.' In one day no fewer than three Frenchnobles were appointed to places of trust in the household, and a specialcourier was sent off to Gratz to convey the appointment of maid ofhonour to a young French lady who lived there in exile.
Each of my countrymen, on arriving, came to visit me. They had all knownmy father by name, if not personally, and most graciously acknowledgedme as one of themselves--a flattery they sincerely believed above allprice.
I had heard much of the overweening vanity and conceit of theLegitimists, but the reality far exceeded all my notions of them. Therewas no pretence, no affectation whatever about them. They implicitlybelieved that in 'accepting the Corsican,' as the phrase went, they weredisplaying a condescension and self-negation unparalleled in history.The tone of superiority thus assumed of course made them seem supremelyridiculous to my eyes--I, who had sacrificed heavily enough for theEmpire, and yet felt myself amply rewarded. But apart from theseexaggerated ideas of themselves, they were most amiable, gentlemannered, and agreeable.
The ladies and gentlemen of what was called the 'Service' associatedall together, dining at the same table, and spending each evening in ahandsome suite appropriated to themselves. Hither some one or other ofthe Imperial family occasionally came to play his whist, or chat away anhour in pleasant gossip--these distinguished visitors never disturbingin the slightest degree the easy tone of the society, nor exacting anyextraordinary marks of notice or attention.
The most frequent guest was the Archduke Louis, whose gaiety oftemperament and easy humour induced him to pass nearly every eveningwith us. He was fond of cards, but liked to talk away over his game, andmake play merely subsidiary to the pleasure of conversation. As I wasbut an indifferent 'whister,' but a most admirable auditor, I was alwaysselected to make one of his party.
It was on one of the evenings when we were so engaged, and the archdukehad been displaying a more than ordinary flow of good spirits andmerriment, a sudden lull in the approving laughter, and a generalsubsidence of every murmur, attracted my attention. I turned my head tosee what had occurred, and perceived that some of the company had risen,and were standing with eyes directed to the open door.
'The archduchess, your Imperial Highness!' whispered an aide-de-camp tothe prince, and he immediately rose from the table, an example speedilyfollowed by the others. I grasped my chair with one hand, and, with mysword in the other, tried to stand up, an effort which hitherto I hadnever accomplished without aid. It was all in vain--my debility utterlydenied the attempt. I tried again, but, overcome by pain and weakness, Iwas compelled to abandon the effort, and sink down on my seat, faint andtrembling. By this time the company had formed into a circle, leavingthe Archduke Louis alone in the middle of the room--I, to my increasingshame and confusion, being seated exactly behind where the prince stood.
There was a hope for me still; the archduchess might pass on through therooms without my being noticed. And this seemed likely enough, since shewas merely proceeding to the apartments of the empress, and not to delaywith us. This expectation was soon destined to be extinguished; for,leaning on the arm of one of her ladies, the young princess camestraight over to where Prince Louis stood. She said something in a lowvoice, and he turned immediately to offer her a chair; and there wasI seated, very pale, and very much shocked at my apparent rudeness.Although I had been presented before to the young archduchess, she hadnot seen me in the uniform of the Corps de Guides (in which I now servedas colonel), and never recognised me. She therefore stared steadily atme, and turned towards her brother as if for explanation.
'Don't you know him?' said the archduke, laughing--'it's Colonel deTiernay; and if he cannot stand up, you certainly should be the lastto find fault with him. Pray sit quiet, Tiernay,' added he, pressingme down on my seat; 'and if you won't look so terrified, my sister willremember you.'
'We must both be more altered than I ever expect if I cease to rememberMonsieur de Tiernay,' said the archduchess, with a most courteous smile.Then leaning on the back of a chair, she bent forward and inquired aftermy health. There was something so strange in the situation: a young,handsome girl condescending to a tone of freedom and intimacy with oneshe had seen but a couple of times, and from whom the difference ofcondition separated her by a gulf wide as the great ocean, that I felta nervous tremor I could not account for. Perhaps, with the tact thatroyalty possesses as its own prerogative, or, perhaps, with mere womanlyintuition, she saw how the interview agitated me, and, to change thetopic, she suddenly said--
'I must present you to one of my ladies, Colonel de Tiernay, acountrywoman of your own. She already has heard from me the story ofyour noble devotion, and now only has to learn your name. Remember youare to sit still.'
As she said this, she turned, and drawing her arm within that of a younglady behind her, led her forward.
'It is to this gentleman I owe my life, Mademoiselle d'Estelles.'
I heard no more, nor did she either; for, faltering, she uttered a low,faint sigh, and fell into the arms of those behind her.
'What's this, Tiernay!--how is all this?' whispered Prince Louis; 'areyou acquainted with mademoiselle?'
But I forgot everything--the presence in which I stood, the agony of awounded leg, and all, and with a violent effort sprang from my seat.
Before I could approach her, however, she had risen from the chair, and,in a voice broken and interrupted, said--
'You are so changed, Monsieur de Tiernay--so much changed--that theshock overpowered me. We became acquainted in the Tyrol, madame,' saidshe to the princess, 'where monsieur was a prisoner.'
What observation the princess made in reply I could not hear, but I sawthat Laura blushed deeply. To hide her awkwardness perhaps it was, thatshe hurriedly entered into some account of our former intercourse, andI could observe that some allusion to the Prince de Conde dropped fromher.
'How strange, how wonderful is all that you tell me!'
said the princess,who bent forward and whispered some words to Prince Louis; and then,taking Laura's arm, she moved on, saying in a low voice '_Au revoir_,monsieur,' as she passed.
'You are to come and drink tea in the archduchess's apartments,Tiernay,' said Prince Louis; 'you 'll meet your old friend, Mademoiselled'Estelles, and of course you have a hundred recollections to exchangewith each other.'
The prince insisted on my accepting his arm, and, as he assisted mealong, informed me that old Madame d'Aigreville had been dead abouta year, leaving her niece an immense fortune--at least a claim toone--only wanting the sanction of the Emperor Napoleon to become valid;for it was one of the estreated but not confiscated estates of LaVendee. Every word that dropped from the prince extinguished somehope within me. More beautiful than ever, her rank recognised, andin possession of a vast fortune, what chance had I, a poor soldier offortune, of success?
'Don't sigh, Tiernay,' said the prince, laughing; 'you've lost a leg forus, and we must lend you a hand in return'; and with this we entered thesalon of the archduchess.
CHAPTER LIV. MAURICE TIERNAY'S 'LAST WORD AND CONFESSION'
I have been very frank with my readers in these memoirs of my life. IfI have dwelt somewhat vain-gloriously on passing moments of success,it must be owned that I have not spared my vanity and self-conceit wheneither betrayed me into any excess of folly. I have neither blinked myhumble beginnings, nor have I sought to attribute to my own merits thosehappy accidents which made me what I am. I claim nothing but the humblecharacter--a Soldier of Fortune. It was my intention to have told thereader somewhat more than these twenty odd years of my life embrace.Probably, too, my subsequent career, if less marked by adventure,was more pregnant with true views of the world and sounder lessons ofconduct; but I have discovered to my surprise that these revelationshave extended over a wider surface than I ever destined them to occupy,and already I tremble for the loss of that gracious attention that hasbeen vouchsafed me hitherto. I will not trust myself to say how muchregret this abstinence has cost me--enough if I avow that in jottingdown the past I have lived my youth over again, and in tracing oldmemories, old scenes, and old impressions, the smouldering fire of myheart has shot up a transient flame so bright as to throw a glow evenover the chill of my old age.
It is, after all, no small privilege to have lived and borne one's partin stirring times; to have breasted the ocean of life when the windswere up and the waves ran high; to have mingled, however humbly, ineventful scenes, and had one's share in the mighty deeds that were tobecome history afterwards. It is assuredly in such trials that humanitycomes out best, and that the character of man displays all its worthiestand noblest attributes. Amid such scenes I began my life, and, in themidst of similar ones, if my prophetic foresight deceive me not, I amlike to end it.
Having said this much of and for myself, I am sure the reader willpardon me if I am not equally communicative with respect to another, andif I pass over the remainder of that interval which I spent at Komorn.Even were love-making--which assuredly it is not--as interesting to thespectator as to those engaged--I should scruple to recount events whichdelicacy should throw a veil over; nor am I induced, even by the exampleof the wittiest periodical writer of the age, to make a _feuilleton_ ofmy own marriage. Enough that I say, despite my shattered form, my wantof fortune, my unattested pretension to rank or station, Mademoiselled'Estelles accepted me, and the Emperor most graciously confirmedher claims to wealth, thus making me one of the richest and the veryhappiest among the Soldiers of Fortune.
The Pere Delamoy, now superior of a convent at Pisa, came to Komorn toperform the ceremony; and if he could not altogether pardon those whohad uprooted the ancient monarchy of France, yet he did not conceal hisgratitude to him who had restored the church and rebuilt the altar.
There may be some who may deem this closing abrupt, and who would wishfor even a word about the bride, her bouquet, and her blushes. I cannotafford to gratify so laudable a curiosity, at the same time that alurking vanity induces me to say, that any one wishing to know moreabout the _personnel_ of my wife or myself, has but to look at David'spicture, or the engraving made from it, of the Emperor's marriage. Therethey will find, in the left-hand corner, partly concealed behind theGrand-Duke de Berg, an officer of the 'Guides,' supporting on his arma young and very beautiful girl, herself a bride. If the young lady'slooks are turned with more interest on her companion than upon thegorgeous spectacle, remember that she is but a few weeks married. If thesoldier carry himself with less of martial vigour or grace, pray bear inmind that cork legs had not attained the perfection to which later skillhas brought them.
I have the scene stronger before me than painting can depict, and myeyes fill as I now behold it in my memory!
THE END
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