My Past - Preface to this on-line edition

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My Past

The book is hardbound with a blue cloth cover. There is nothing on the back cover or the inside covers. The front cover has, in gold lettering:

On both the top and bottom of the spine are three horizontal lines. On the top half of the spine below the three lines are:

[Frontispiece]
[A left-hand page containing a photograph]
[The page is embossed retangularly to frame the picture]

MY PAST

REMINISCENCES OF THE COURTS OF AUSTRIA AND
BAVARIA; TOGETHER WITH THE TRUE STORY OF THE
EVENTS LEADING UP TO THE TRAGIC DEATH OF
RUDOLPH, CROWN PRINCE OF AUSTRIA

BY

THE COUNTESS MARIE LARISCH

NÉE BARONESS VON WALLERSEE

DAUGHTER OF DUKE LUDWIG OF BAVARIA AND NIECE OF THE LATE
EMPRESS ELIZABETH OF AUSTRIA

WITH 21 ILLUSTRATIONS

G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1913

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

To

MRS. MAUDE MARY CHESTER FFOULKES

IN GRATITUDE FOR HER KINDNESS IN HELPING ME TO PREPARE

THESE REMINISCENCES FOR PUBLICATION

My father, Duke Ludwig of Bavaria -- Five fair sisters -- A morganatic marriage -- My mother -- The castle of Garatshausen -- The Empress Elizabeth's visit -- An Imperial retinue -- I see my beautiful aunt for the first time -- Her wonderful hair -- A daughter of sun and fire -- Her fascination -- I wander in the garden and climb a tree -- Day-dreams -- Why did the Empress weep? -- My hiding place is discovered -- "Did you see me cry?" -- "Aunt Cissi" talks to me -- What she wanted to know -- The beginning of the tangled web -- Farewell -- A present for a wise little girl -- We go to Rome -- An audience with the Pope -- A religious examination -- How I met Richard Wagner -- He is mistaken for Duke Ludwig's tailor -- "Let him wait" -- I am reprimanded for my masquerade

We visit Vienna -- The black silk dress -- Macassar oil -- Our Bavarian maid -- "No skating in August" -- The grub becomes a butterfly -- A ride in the Prater -- A family dinner -- The

Crown Prince Rudolph -- Hungry at the Opera -- We return to Munich -- Marriage projects -- King Ludwig vetoes a Bismarck marriage -- Feldafing -- A Royal family -- My aunt's confidences -- A fairy tale -- "Le Chapeau de Paille" -- Marie-Josepha's charm -- Her kindness to me -- The great "Du" -- Cross questions and crooked answers -- I incur the Emperor's anger -- I visit King Ludwig -- Lohengrin as it was not written -- Toothache cures -- We are overtaken by a storm -- The fisherman's widow -- "He will return" -- A strangely fulfilled prediction -- The lucky rainbow -- Flowers for "the little singer"

Gödöllõ -- The education of a confidante -- Aunt Cissi's circus -- A family failing -- Cub-hunting -- "At break of day" -- I renew my acquaintance with Count Nicholas Esterházy -- Elemér Batthyány -- His oath -- He wishes to marry me -- What did my aunt mean? -- Her appearance on horseback -- A "sewn on" habit -- A strange kind of soup -- The Emperor does not jump the ditch -- "Nicky's" proposal -- "Do not consult the Empress" -- I confide in my aunt -- What she told me in my bedroom -- Why was she so perturbed? -- "Bay" Middleton -- His friendship with the Empress -- Fallen among thieves -- "Good-bye" -- An interrupted farewell -- The

Emperor comes -- The value of tact -- The Crown Prince Rudolph at Gödöllõ -- I still dislike him -- He questions me -- "A bad-minded boy" -- I box the Crown Prince's ears -- "Rudolph is a very dangerous enemy"

"Uncle Nando" -- The pearl fisher -- My aunt's moods -- Her care of her beauty -- Her face treatments -- Olive oil baths -- Whites of eggs and salt -- How the Empress washed her hair -- Her underlinen -- Mauve bows -- No petticoats -- Elizabeth's fondness for exercise -- Her iron bedstead -- A dislike for jewels but a passion for pearls -- The wooden horse -- The Empress dresses the part -- Her opinion of frumpish Royalties -- I see the Baroness Vetsera for the first time -- Hunting in Bohemia -- The special train -- Elizabeth relates a phantasy -- We arrive at Kladrub -- At Prince Auersperg's -- I meet George Larisch -- An early ride -- Slatinan -- "In Harness" -- Elizabeth speaks of marriage -- The virtues of a dull husband -- We visit Prague -- The Hádràjin -- The noble ladies -- I precede my aunt -- An unwelcome joke -- The Empress Maria Anna -- Christmas at Gödöllõ -- I return to Munich -- I miss my aunt -- The only way -- At Feldafing -- I go to Solza -- "A marriage is arranged and will shortly take place" -- Wed-

ding garments -- What Nicky said -- The black pearl -- My wedding day -- The Empress displays genuine emotion -- "Good-bye"

A honeymoon in Paris -- London -- We stay at Claridge's -- Then and now -- Mutual recriminations -- The Empress arrives in England -- Her advice -- We go to Windsor -- The late Queen Victoria -- Aunt Cissi's comment -- A reception at Count Deym's -- Lord Beaconsfield -- The Prince of Wales -- A dinner party at Claridge's -- The Prince of Wales suggests a whisky and soda -- Combermere Abbey -- Bay Middleton again -- Hunting -- We follow Bay -- "Two's company" -- I am lost -- Count Larisch speaks his mind -- How the best laid schemes "gang aft agley" -- I am forbidden to remain with the Empress -- We vegetate at Pardubitz -- Baden-Baden -- Louise, Duchess of Devonshire -- I renew my acquaintance with the Prince of Wales -- A fancy dress ball -- Too many cooks -- Louise receives a snub -- Monaco -- King Albert and Queen Carola of Saxony -- Vienna -- Elizabeth at the Hofburg -- Her apartments -- Fencing lessons -- Aunt Cissi's supper parties -- I meet Herbert Bismarck again -- The Empress's superstitions -- Her strange moods -- The real Elizabeth -- A Roman Empress -- On the face of

the waters -- The woman who was -- My aunt's faith in her convictions -- Her opinions on love -- Her contempt for life -- Her unforgiving disposition

Vienna -- A visit from the Empress -- Rudolph in search of a wife -- Princess Matilda of Saxony -- Plain and good -- A Belgian bride -- The shadowy third -- Rudolph's marriage -- Opinions differ -- An uncertain future -- The "Trumpeltier" -- Quarrels -- The beginning of the end -- The story of the yellow domino -- Cyclamen-Magic -- "Tout lasse, tout casse, tout passe" -- Predestined to suffer -- The real and the ideal -- Princess Metternich -- More about the Empress -- Katrina Schratt -- The degenerate Habsburgs -- The Archduke Ludwig Victor -- The Archduke Franz Ferdinand -- His marriage with Sophie Chotek -- Otto the evil -- His drunken feats -- Naked and unashamed -- His horrible death -- An unearthly saint -- The last home of the Habsburgs -- Shades of the dead

The insanity of royal houses -- Where madness lies -- King Ludwig II of Bavaria -- A disappointment

in love -- A changed man -- He turns night into day -- The King's castles -- A mania for building -- A dinner party -- The ghosts of the past -- The Spirit of the Mountains -- The King shatters his glass -- What the servants did -- The descending table -- A hint to "hurry up" -- "The Sea-gull" and "The Mountain Eagle" -- Elizabeth corresponds with the King -- The winter garden at Munich -- Under the shadow of the "Himalayas" -- A property moon -- A leaking lake -- Queen Marie changes her rooms -- Josephina Schefzky -- "Save me, Lohengrin" -- I see the "Himalayas" -- A hungry actor -- Herr Kainz and the cutlets -- King Ludwig's death -- King Otto -- Another mad monarch -- I see him at Nymphenburg -- "All in a garden fair" -- Schloss Fürstenried -- An animal existence -- A new era for Bavaria

My aunts -- Women of temperaments -- Queen Sophia of Naples -- Married by proxy -- The King who was sick -- "The heroine of Gaeta" -- The Rothchilds -- "Le bon sang ne peut pas mentir" -- Princess Thurn and Taxis -- "Spatz" -- The late Duchesse d'Alençon -- She prays beside King Ludwig's coffin -- "Do you think he has forgiven me?" -- My grandparents -- Their marriage -- Locked in -- A black beginning --

Princess Alexandra -- Another mad member of the family -- Dust -- The sofa -- A journey to Vienna -- The beautiful bonnet from Bavaria -- An upset -- What happened to the hat-box -- The Empress at Bad Kreuth -- A startling story -- Water everywhere -- King Ludwig appears to my aunt -- "She burns in torment" -- "You will join us" -- The Empress is convinced about the truth of her story -- The woman who was burnt -- Did Ludwig really return? -- Secret sympathy

Drifting into dulness -- A quiet life -- My accident -- Aunt Cissi comes to see me -- Her conversation with me -- Blood and tears -- The month which brought about my destiny -- The drama of Meyerling -- I speak after twenty-four years' silence -- I meet the Baroness Vetsera in Vienna -- The family history -- The Baltazzis -- A popular hostess -- I lunch at the Vetsera Palace -- A quarrel -- "Mary dear" -- Her beauty -- Her hero-worship -- Mary's letter -- To whom did she write? -- I hear the whole story -- A midnight meeting -- I give Mary some unwelcome advice -- She will not listen

love affair seriously -- My explanation of the reason Why? -- "Qui s'excuse, s'accuse" -- I return to Vienna -- Luncheon at the Vetsera Palace -- A drive in the Prater -- We meet the Crown Prince -- I discover I have been made a fool of -- I tell Mary what I think of her behaviour -- She confides in me -- A strange character -- We go to the Opera -- The wife and the mistress -- Angry glances -- I am in for a bad quarter of an hour -- The fatal photograph -- "True till death" -- Christmas in the country -- Count Larisch decides to go to the Riviera -- His opinion of Mary -- "Oh, George, how dense you are"

An unexpected visitor -- The Crown Prince -- What Rudolph had to say -- The woman in the case -- The weariness of life -- Rudolph tells me his plans for Mary's future -- I review the situation -- Am I a pawn in his game? -- "Beware of Rudolph" -- I see Mary -- Her changed appearance -- I hear her laugh for the last time -- I go to the Vetsera Palace -- Dressing for the ball -- Mary's beauty -- An outburst -- Drive to the German Embassy -- What happened there -- Mary insults the Crown Princess -- A social downfall

A disturbing letter -- What does the Crown Prince want with me? -- I resolve not to see him -- In the toils -- "I want you to bring Mary to the Hofburg" -- Rudolph tells me his difficulties -- The Steel Box -- R. I. U. O. -- "My own death warrant" -- No chance of escape -- A visitor -- Mary Vetsera -- Why she came -- Her mother's anger -- The iron bangle -- "I shall drown myself" -- I take Mary home -- The Baroness is relieved -- The last night -- "Their love, and their hatred, and their envy is now perished" -- I interview Madame Vetsera -- She discloses her hand -- A delicate mission

The morning after the storm -- Mary's toilet -- The green tailor -- made costume -- Good-bye for ever -- The door in the wall -- On the roof of the Hofburg -- The end of the passage -- The room of the raven -- Rudolph's private apartments -- Ten minutes -- I discover where I am -- Rudolph returns without Mary -- Where is she? -- I receive my instructions -- The way back -- What the coachman said

What did the Baroness suspect? -- I promise to discover Rudolph's whereabouts -- A family council -- Alexandre Baltazzi -- A visit to the Chief of the Secret Police -- "I cannot interfere" -- I am recalled to Pardubitz -- Home again -- A dreadful awakening -- The Crown Prince is dead -- "How?" -- And what of Mary? -- My legacy from the dead -- I fear the future -- Who will reclaim the box?

A city of sorrow -- Haunted by memories -- The hair of the Furies -- The bells -- One-two-three- Dr. Wiederhofer -- An emissary from the Empress -- What the doctor told me -- Meyerling -- How Rudolph died -- The news at the Hofburg -- The two mothers -- "Ils sont morts tous les deux" -- The linen room -- The body in the basket -- Mary -- "Take her up tenderly" -- A visit from Count Stockau -- The Baroness Vetsera is ordered to leave Vienna -- Alexandre Baltazzi and Count Stockau proceed to Meyerling -- The last toilette of Mary Vetsera -- A dreadful drive -- The burial-ground of Heiligenkreuz -- The rough coffin -- Buried like a dog -- I receive Mary's last letter

Count Andrássy -- He asks me to speak -- I defend my actions -- My message to the Empress -- I take the steel box to its new owner -- The stranger -- Our conversation -- He discloses his identity -- The Archduke John of Tuscany -- The Emperor's duty -- "To be shot as a traitor" -- "I'm going to die without dying" -- Into the darkness -- I leave for Italy -- Count Larisch behaves like a white man -- I am denounced by Alexandre Baltazzi -- I disdain to reply -- My life after the tragedy -- Imaginative accounts of me -- Why they are untrue -- The mystery of Meyerling -- How the various reports arose -- Politics not love -- The secret

Schloss Possenhofen on the Lake of Starnberg
(the Birthplace of Empress Elizabeth) . 45

In the Garden at Gödöllõ: Baroness Marie Larisch
with a Circus Horse of Empress Elizabeth 83

Schloss Berg on the Lake of Starnberg where
Ludwig II Lived. Showing that Part of the
Lake in which He Drowned Himself 183

Countess Marie Larisch and Baroness Mary Vetsera.
This is the last Photograph of Baroness Mary
Vetsera and Shows Her Wearing the Dress in
which She was Buried 283

The Home of Countess Marie Larisch in Bavaria,
Schloss Wotansquell on the Tegernsee . 373

MY PAST

CHAPTER I

My father, Duke Ludwig of Bavaria, who is now in his eighty-second year, is the brother of those five fair sisters, Elizabeth Empress of Austria, Marie-Sophie (Sophia) ex-queen of Naples, Sophie-Charlotte Duchesse d'Alençon, Mathilde Princess Trani, and Hélène Princess Thurn and Taxis. On May 28, 1859, after having previously renounced his rights as eldest son of the Duke of Bavaria, he contracted a morganatic marriage with Henrietta Mendel, a beautiful young actress who was created Baroness von Wallersee, and I was their only child. The Ducal family received my mother quite as one of themselves, and she was delighted to leave the stage, which she frankly detested. She was not one of those women who sacrifice fame for love and live unhappily ever afterwards; she suffered from no illusions regarding her ability as an actress, and was well aware that the secret

I was born at Augsburg near Munich, where my father commanded the 4th Regiment of Light Horse. We lived in a large house in the town and every summer we spent a few months in the mountains. I was brought up just like a boy, for when I was three years old and my mother took me in her carriage to see the soldiers, papa's great amusement consisted in lifting me up by the scruff of the neck on to his horse, and galloping away with me seated in front of him. Thus my early familiarity with horses made me heedless of danger, and at five years of age I used to ride a spirited pony.

I was educated at home and hated all of my many excellent and long-suffering governesses. I learned to fence and to ride six horses a day, and I was certainly to all intents and purposes a very boyish girl. After the war of 1866 we went to live in Munich, first at a house in the town, and then at my father's own palace; there more teachers worried me and were worried by me, but I succeeded in acquiring a fair knowledge of Latin.

[ Illustration and caption ]

Duke Ludwig of Bavaria, Father of Countess Marie Larisch

imperative for him to leave the Army, but the internal trouble from which he suffered did not prevent him from enjoying his ordinary pursuits. We often went to our castle of Garatshausen, which was close to my grandparents' castle of Possenhofen on the Lake of Starnberg, and one day my father told us that he had lent Garatshausen for six weeks to his sister the Empress Elizabeth, who wanted to bring the baby Archduchess Valérie from Vienna, for a change of air. I was all excitement to see the aunt about whom I had heard so much, and, child though I was, I shall never forget my first meeting with the fascinating, enigmatic woman who was destined to exercise such a powerful influence on my life.

It was summer, and Garatshausen looked its loveliest. We had temporarily removed to a little house near by, but on the day of the Empress's arrival we awaited her in the cool vestibule of the castle. Her trusted doctor, Wiederhofer, and Mrs. Throgmorton, Valérie's devoted English nurse, arrived in advance, and I remember how interested I was to see the carriages which contained the Imperial entourage, for Elizabeth travelled with a great retinue of servants of all grades.

magnificent horses drew up. A lady alighted from it and entered the hall. She kissed my mother and my father affectionately, then she turned to where I was standing and kissed me, exclaiming as she did so in that half-mocking tone so peculiar to her, "Oh, what a lanky little girl!"

I gazed at her spellbound, for with some curious intuition I already felt her influence over me, and I thought that here was a Fairy Queen who had come straight from the realms of Romance, having temporarily discarded her gauzy wings and shimmering robes for a green and black plaid burnous, grey hat, and a long-trained black dress.

Elizabeth seemed amused and pleased by my childish admiration, and, after kissing us all again, went to her apartments, and we saw her no more that day. I could talk of nothing else but her, and my parents had to pacify me by saying that I should be sure to see "Aunt Cissi" again very soon, as she had expressed a wish for me to play with little Valérie during their stay at Garatshausen.

I was not disappointed; next morning the Empress sent for me, and I was all impatience to go to her.

[ Illustration and caption ]

Henrietta Mendel, Baroness von Wallersee,
Mother of Countess Marie Larisch

I was more than ever enraptured when I saw her again. Elizabeth was sitting at breakfast, whilst her hair-dresser arranged her hair. She was too beautiful for words, at least I thought so, and indeed the Empress, then in the height of her beauty, was a lovely picture. A négligee of exquisite lace enveloped her slender figure, and her wonderful hair, which I saw for the first time unbound, flowed around her in heavy chestnut waves. Her inscrutable eyes were of a deep amber flecked with gold, and the searching daylight discovered no flaw in her. Elizabeth seemed a daughter of sun and fire as she sat there in the golden glow which intensified her loveliness and her strange ethereal look.

I soon knew the reason of my summons. I was to play with Valérie in the afternoon. Aunt Cissi then said she was going to ride, and I was dismissed. The longed-for interview was over, and I went away a slave to her fascination and beauty. It was quite impossible for me to go home. I wanted to be alone, so I wandered into the gardens, fished for crayfish in the ponds, and when I tired of this hitherto absorbing pastime I climbed up a tree, took off my wet stockings, which I hung on a branch to dry, and resumed my day-dreams about the Empress.

I remembered all I had heard about her, and being a precocious child I also recollected that papa had sometimes said that "Cissi" was not too happy. "But it can't be true, she can't be unhappy," I thought, as I reviewed the scene of the morning, for the splendour and state which surrounded my aunt as Empress of Austria had greatly impressed me.

Suddenly I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and peering from my leafy screen I nearly fell out of the tree when I recognised the Empress, who had apparently given up the idea of riding, and was walking quite unattended. Although the sunlight heightened Elizabeth's beauty she was afraid of its effects, and always wore a curious blue shade fixed on her hat as a protection from sunburn and freckles, and in the evening she invariably carried a fan to shield her face.

Elizabeth came slowly to my tree, under which was a stone seat. She sat down, clasped her hands in a despairing kind of way, and began to cry silently. I could see that she was greatly distressed, for her face wore a hopeless expression, and occasionally a sob shook her. She then wept unrestrainedly, and at last I wondered whether I dared attempt to comfort her. I

bent down, and as the leaves rustled with my sudden movement, the Empress looked up and saw me. She quickly regained her composure and said sweetly:

I dared not disobey, so most unwillingly I slid down, and stood before my aunt, barelegged, covered with streaks of green mould, and holding my soaking, sand-filled stockings in my hand. Oh, why could n't I be a pretty little girl?" I thought bitterly. "Why was I fated to see the Empress in such unfavourable circumstances?" Yesterday she had called me a "lanky" child. What must I look like now? In utter self-abasement I fidgeted from one foot to the other, waiting for her to speak.

"Marie," she said, looking at me with beautiful, tear-drenched eyes, "answer at once. Did you see me cry?"

"I don't know," I said with perfect truth, for I could not imagine what on earth could move an Empress to tears. I did not know that her Imperial crown was weighted with sorrow, and that its jewels were but sharp thorns; I did not dream that her noble nature, chilled in the early days of what might have been an ideal union, was becoming warped, and that she was schooling herself to practise that reticence and repression which later was to have disastrous results for those who came within her influence.

"Well, I'll tell you the reason why I am so miserable; come beside me . . . there . . ." -- as I sat down timidly and tried to conceal my hateful legs -- "don't be afraid. Valérie was ill during the night, and I was anxious, so that is why I cried."

It occurred to me that my aunt had not seemed disturbed about my cousin's health when I saw her at breakfast, but I merely answered:

[ Illustration and caption ]

Countess Marie Larisch
From a Photograph Taken when a Girl

the truth of my statement, "because I'll have a Novena for her, and that always helps."

The Empress did not speak; she seemed deep in thought. She looked at me from time to time and smiled strangely; then she took my dirty, hot little hand in hers and said, "Well, Marie, we must not sit here any longer; let us go back to the castle." My aunt still held my hand, and we walked through the charming gardens in silence.

It was a delightful morning, and Garatshausen with its four towers stood out sharply against a background of azure sky; a refreshing wind came from the distant mountains, and, as I timidly glanced at Elizabeth, I saw that she looked quite herself again. Just as the entrance to the castle came in sight, she stopped, looked at me with eyes which seemed to search my inmost thoughts, and said:

"Now, I want to know, Marie, whether you can hold your tongue, or are you a silly chatterbox who tells everything?"

I was rather offended, and said sulkily, but with a great show of dignity, "I am not a chatterbox, Aunt Cissi. And of course I can hold my tongue."

Marie, prove it to me, and don't tell a soul that you saw me crying. . . . I shall soon know if you are really a wise child."

My afternoon with little Valérie seemed somewhat dull after my exciting morning, and I did not say that I had spent part of it with my aunt when mamma scolded me for my long absence. Something told me that the Empress would not mention our meeting, and a romantic wish to be trusted by her kept me silent. Looking with regret on the years that are past, I am tempted to wish that I had been a chatterbox, for although my aunt's affection for me was to surround me later with all that the average woman desires, the beginning of my destiny dates from that summer day, when Elizabeth Empress of Austria asked me whether I always told everything I knew.

During the weeks which passed, my aunt did not appear to remember our conversation, for, she never referred to it when I happened to be alone with her. I enjoyed every day of that wonderful visit, and I idolised Valérie, who was a sweet child. Mrs. Throgmorton used to afford me endless delight, for she would emulate the antics of a dancing dervish in order to amuse the little Archduchess, and the contrast between

her usual air of importance and her lack of dignity when she danced was extremely funny.

Elizabeth loved Garatshausen, and when the time came for her return to Vienna she took leave of my parents with tears in her eyes. We all stood in the marble vestibule where we had awaited her arrival, and I thought she looked lovelier than ever in her white dress and white hat with plumes that swept the burnished chestnut of her hair.

Valérie was a picture in white and mauve, and when the Empress had given my mother another affectionate embrace, she came to where I was standing, and pressed a little velvet case into my hand, saying as she did so, "Here is a souvenir from Valérie for a wise little girl."

Then she went away; the carriage disappeared in a cloud of dust, and only the faint sounds of wheels in the distance served to remind us of our beautiful relation. I did not open the little case until I was alone. Then I pressed the spring and found a gold locket with the initials of Marie Valérie glittering in rubies and emeralds. Inside was a miniature of the child, and a date which was at first meaningless, until a sudden enlightenment told me it

was a reminder of that day in the gardens of Garatshausen. So the Empress had not forgotten after all.

When we returned to Munich, life went on as usual and some years passed before I saw my aunt again. But absence in no way made her less of a heroine to me, and I endeavoured to excel in those things which I knew appealed to her. Therefore I became a good horsewoman, able to remain in the saddle for hours without being fatigued. I fenced, I walked, I was a fair shot, I always remembered that I must not talk at random, and thus I tried to qualify myself for the approval of the Empress.

When I was twelve years old my father was ordered to Italy by his doctors, so we went to Rome accompanied by our Bavarian medical adviser, a big stout man with an astonishing capacity for eating. Papa used to ascribe many of his own minor ailments to his early education in Saxony, where in the days of his youth he gravitated between Dresden and the castle of Pillnitz. He was wont to observe that the dulness and depression of Dresden gave him a perpetual headache and that the unsavoury food at Pillnitz gave him a perpetual stomach-

[ Illustration and caption ]

Duke Ludwig of Bavaria and His Daughter, Countess
Marie Larisch

ache, and probably served to lay the foundation of his future digestive troubles.

When we arrived at Rome we naturally wished, as good Catholics, to be received by the Holy Father, and as a preliminary we visited Cardinal Antonelli, who knew my religious instructor, a Munich priest, very well.

Pius IX gave us a special audience, and I wore the black silk dress and black veil which are de rigueur on these occasions. I wanted to laugh because I thought I looked absolutely freakish in my grown-up gown; in fact, we all looked incongruous. Mamma wore black, papa was in uniform, and the Bavarian doctor sported an archaic tall hat. Papa kept telling us what we must do when we saw the Pope. "Kneel, kneel," he repeated at intervals, but when the crucial moment arrived and we all knelt before his Holiness, the doctor's hat slipped from his hands and rolled at a rapidly increasing speed over the polished floor. This did away with all feelings of restraint, for the Pope laughed and asked us to come into his private room and talk to him. Pius IX was most friendly, and took special notice of me. "I should like to have a talk with this little lady," he observed. "Will you send her to see me to-morrow morning?"

My parents were much flattered by the Pontifical condescension, and the next day my governess and I went to the Vatican. The Pope examined me in religion, we conversed together in Latin, and at the conclusion of his questionings Pius smiled and asked:

"No," said I, for the Pope, who was a tall, well-built man, had one of those "good" faces which inspire confidence and affection.

"Ah! I am glad to hear it," he said; "but, truthfully, which do you prefer -- a religious examination or dancing? When I was young I am sure I should have said I liked dancing better than religion."

His eyes twinkled, he patted my hand reassuringly, and before I left gave me his picture and a beautiful medallion, accompanying the gifts with his special blessing.

The Pope was most kind to our family. He stood sponsor to the Queen of Naples' daughter, and when misfortune overtook my aunt and uncle they lived for many years in the Farnese Palace.

One of my most interesting experiences as a young girl was my first meeting with Richard

Wagner, who, as is well known, owed his ultimate recognition as a genius to the kindness and patronage of Ludwig II. The King, who was very fond of papa, one day asked him whether his fiancée, my aunt Princess Sophie of Bavaria, could meet Wagner at our house. Papa, of course, assented, and a meeting was arranged, but owing to some contretemps everybody excepting myself was out when the great man arrived. I had devoted my solitude to ransacking my mother's wardrobe to "dress up," so when I had tried on her largest crinoline, her silk dress, and her hat and jacket, I seized a small green silk-fringed umbrella, and pirouetted complacently in front of the long mirror.

Suddenly the bell rang, and conjecturing the arrival was my governess, I made for the door, opened it, and came face to face with Wagner, although I did not then know who he was. I remember him so well as a little man with a big nose who said politely, in a broad Saxon accent, "Is it here that the Duke of Bavaria lives?" I bowed, and said gravely, "Please to come in."

Wagner seemed rather nervous, and no wonder, for I looked extraordinary in my huge crinoline, and clothes which were far too large for me; but perhaps he reflected, that as our

family was famed for its eccentricities, he had chanced to meet one of the "odd" members, so he followed me meekly into the drawing-room, where I left him.

An hour passed, and when my governess returned I informed her that papa's tailor was sitting in the salon, but she merely replied, "Let him wait," and directed her energies to scolding me for dressing up and telling me to "get on with my lessons."

There was no sound from where Wagner sat possessing his soul in patience, but when my mother came back and I imparted the interesting news to her that "Papa's tailor was in the salon," she straightway went to see for herself and nearly expired when she recognised Richard Wagner. Mamma was really distressed to think that he had been treated in such an offhand manner, and was profusely apologetic. Wagner, however, was highly amused, and remarked, "Some one told me to wait, and I have waited, you see."

Soon afterwards my aunt arrived with her lady-in-waiting, and I believe a very pleasant interview took place. I was not allowed to renew my acquaintance with Wagner, and in the outer darkness of my schoolroom I writhed

under the maternal anger, but I have a shrewd suspicion that it was the fact of my "dressing up" which annoyed my mother most, and that Wagner's long wait was as nothing compared to her creased gown and roughly handled crinoline.

CHAPTER II

We visit Vienna -- The black silk dress -- Macassar oil -- Our Bavarian maid -- "No skating in August" -- The grub becomes a butterfly -- A ride in the Prater -- A family dinner -- The Crown Prince Rudolph -- Hungry at the Opera -- We return to Munich -- Marriage projects -- King Ludwig vetoes a Bismarck marriage -- Feldafing -- A Royal family -- My aunt's confidences -- A fairy tale -- "Le Chapeau de Paille" -- Marie-Josepha's charm -- Her kindness to me -- The great "Du" -- Cross questions and crooked answers -- I incur the Emperor's anger -- I visit King Ludwig -- "Lohengrin" as it was not written -- Toothache cures -- We are overtaken by a storm -- The fisherman's widow -- "He will return" -- A strangely fulfilled prediction -- The lucky rainbow -- Flowers for "the little singer."

CHAPTER II

When I was fourteen the Empress invited my parents to visit her at Vienna, and they were specially enjoined to bring me with them. I was delighted at the prospect of meeting my aunt again, and greatly elated at the idea of seeing Vienna, which I had heard described as being the most splendid city in Europe.

The "lanky little girl" was now a regular maypole, and mamma decided that this visit must seal the fate of the short frocks which I had hitherto worn. My parents were simple minded people, with a great distaste for display and my toilettes had always been designed for utility and not for beauty. It may interest girls with extravagant ideas to know that three gowns were considered ample for me to wear during my visit -- one for travelling, one for

walking, and a blacksilk dress for great occasions. I hated this black silk with a deep-rooted hatred, for it was far too old in style, and I remonstrated against wearing it. "Do not let me hear any more of this nonsense," said papa, when I appealed to him; "if the dress is old-looking, at any rate it's very elegant!" I had another grievance, as, for some unknown reason, I was fitted with heavy-soled hob-nailed mountain-boots, and not with the light chaussures which are so appropriate for town wear. "What shall I look like?" I thought despairingly. "Aunt Cissi will call me a Bavarian peasant, and everybody will laugh at me." But my troubles were not over. Papa always detested my fair hair, and insisted on plentiful applications of hair-oil, in the vain hope that it would result ultimately in my being transformed from a blonde to a brunette. He became quite obsessed with the idea when the Vienna visit was mooted, and my locks were smeared frequently with oil every day. "Be sure you don't forget to pack a plentiful supply," he commanded; so we travelled with a perfect cellarful of bottles of Macassar oil.

At last the eventful day came when we left Munich, and arrived late in the evening at

Penzing, the station for Schönbrunn, whence a court carriage conveyed us to the castle, where we did not see anyone that night. I had a beautiful bedroom with a very large bed, over which hung a picture of a sinister-looking archduke whose expression struck fear into my heart lest I should encounter him as a ghost.

A dainty supper was served, but papa was firm about our not eating too much late at night. "We must all sleep well," he observed, "for Cissi will be certain to pay us an early visit."

Our maid was a sturdy Bavarian girl from the mountains, who spoke an almost unintelligible patois, and whose ignorance of the convenances always kept my mother in a fever of anxiety. She was a good creature, however, and the next morning she called me early, and commenced a vigorous and plentiful hair-oiling. She rubbed in the oil just as a groom rubs down a horse, and between her puffing and rubbing she kept on ejaculating that surely no more thoroughly oiled hair could be found in Vienna. She then hooked me into the odious silk dress, which was far too long for me; my feet were encased in the big boots, and, glistening with oil, I "clumped"

"Himmel!" cried mamma, "Marie will fall over her dress. Quick . . . bring me some pins," and straightway my skirt was festooned to a more suitable length. Coffee was then served, and we were just enjoying breakfast, when the Bavarian maid rushed sans cérémonie into the room shouting: "The Empress is coming." Through the door of the salon we had a view of room after room communicating one with the other. Endless doors were opened; some one was coming nearer, and then I saw that it was my beautiful aunt.

We all advanced to meet her. I say "advanced," but the word only applies to my parents' method of progression. I had not reckoned with my boots, and the result was that I slid ungracefully forward, to be greeted with a charming smile, and the words, "Well, Marie, there's no skating at Schönbrunn in August!"

I felt that the Empress was staring at my strange attire, and I was not mistaken. Suddenly she burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, and when her amusement had somewhat subsided, she turned to my mother, who was rather perplexed as to what had caused

[ Illustration and caption ]

Empress Elizabeth of Austria,
the Aunt of Countess Marie Larisch

her such merriment, and said in a stifled voice: "Oh, Henrietta, do allow Marie to come with me to my dressing-room."

I walked with my aunt to her private apartments, where her hairdresser and maids were awaiting her. Elizabeth turned to one of them, and said, "Bring plenty of gowns and lingerie, for my niece must be supplied with a complete outfit at once." She then went to her dressing-room to have her hair dressed, and the maids came in and out with piles of lovely gowns, delicate underlinen, dainty corsets, and delightful shoes. I had never before seen such luxury; it almost took my breath away. I revelled in the cambric and lace which soon replaced my plainly trimmed undergarments: the satin corsets suited my straight young figure, and my feet now presented an appearance of which I need not be ashamed. Of course, the gowns required various alterations, but the Empress selected those most suitable to my age, and lavished her lovely clothes upon me with prodigal generosity.

When the selection of gowns was over, my aunt looked at me critically, and said: "Take the Baroness away and wash the oil out of her hair." To me she remarked: "Now, Marie, I

shall leave you alone to-day; thank heaven you are more presentable. To-morrow I shall meet you in the riding-school; I want to see how you tan ride." She kissed me, and I was delivered into the hands of a maid who spent two strenuous hours washing my hair; but at last the ordeal was over, and in my new garments, with my thick fair hair guiltless of oil, I was taken back to our apartments.

The Bavarian girl gave a hoarse gurgle of astonishment at my transformation; papa turned on his heel, after having surveyed me, with thoughts which were too deep for words, and mamma's slightly wounded feelings, which had been upset by her sister-in-law's lack of appreciation of Bavarian fashions, were only mollified when, later in the day, the pretty gowns and other delightful accessories were sent me with "Aunt Cissi's love."

The next morning we went to the riding-school, where the Empress proved herself a critical observer of my capabilities as a horsewoman. I was told to ride three or four different horses, which, by the way, were all possessed of "temperaments," and at the conclusion of my efforts Elizabeth expressed herself greatly pleased, and told me I should ride with her in

the Prater on the morrow. She then bore me off to be fitted with a habit, and made me try the effect of a high hat on my fair hair. "Far too old," she said emphatically. "No, Marie -- just now it suits me that you should look a child. A straw sailor hat will be the very thing, and, mind, you are not to let them braid your hair, I want it to fall loose below your waist. We'll have such a pleasant time, and I will show you ever so many things which you have never seen in Munich."

Oh, how I adored this radiant lady who seemed to love me and to be so interested in my welfare! I was not an emotional child, but every chord in my heart responded to her. She fascinated me and dominated my imagination, and, with her infinite tact, she gave me confidence in myself. Elizabeth was never then the Empress, she was the Aunt Cissi who seemed so understanding, and so completely in sympathy with me, that I would willingly have died for her.

"The least said about your appearance the better," observed my father, as I stood ready for his inspection. "Cissi has certainly strange ideas, and that is all that can be said in excuse for my daughter looking like a fair-haired French doll." Mamma was more tolerant. "Well,

certainly Marie's habit and hat are a little unusual in our eyes," she admitted, "but the child looks elegant, and we cannot oppose Elizabeth's wishes."

We drove to the Prater in two carriages, the Empress and her lady-in-waiting occupying the first, and my parents and I in the second. We stopped at Elizabeth's little cottage, which was surrounded by a pretty garden like a secluded oasis in the thronged Prater. There horses were waiting; we lost no time in mounting, and were soon the cynosure of all eyes, for it was the fashionable hour for the Prater, and smart Vienna was very much in evidence.

I rode at the Empress's right hand. We were followed by her head-groom and two undergrooms, and I can quite recall the sensation which the sight of Elizabeth created on that glorious August afternoon. She looked lovely in her perfect-fitting habit which seemed moulded on her figure; the exercise and the air deepened the faint rose of her cheeks, and the sun filtering through the trees assailed her with little golden arrows which became prisoners in her chestnut hair. People stared at me as I rode beside my aunt, and I felt that the question on everybody's lips was, "Who is the girl?" I was pleasantly

conscious that I looked my best, and that my hair was quite pretty as it floated behind me in a long fair mane.

We cantered to the end of the Prater, and the Empress told me we were going to visit the group of cottages and stables owned by the gentlemen riders of Vienna. There were lots of men about, including some Hungarians, and my aunt introduced me to Count Nicholas Esterházy, a smart black-eyed man with whom she seemed to be on terms of great friendship. Then we rode back through the cheering Vienna crowds, and, leaving our horses at the cottage, drove to Schönbrunn. I had a delightful afternoon, and the only thing which detracted from my enjoyment was the tangled condition of my hair; but I reflected that the inconvenience was nothing and, "Il faut souffrir pour être belle."

The next evening we were invited to a family dinner, and there I saw, for the first time since I was quite a tiny child, my cousin the Crown Prince Rudolph.

When he entered the room I experienced a curious feeling of uneasiness. Perhaps my subconscious self knew the danger which Rudolph was destined to become in my life, and my nervousness increased when I saw that he

watched me narrowly out of the corners of his eyes. The Crown Prince sat next to me and commenced to tease me unmercifully, and, boy though he then was in years, he seemed to possess the intelligence of a man. He was handsome, and for some time I racked my brains to remember what wild animal he recalled to me, for he had a curious look not altogether human. Then, I knew -- Rudolph reminded me of a wolf; his eyes blazed green at times, and he seemed almost ready to spring. "Was he as cruel as a wolf?" I wondered, and then an icy chill went down my spine as I recalled the Empress's words to me before dinner when I had gone to show her my pretty gown. "Marie," she had said, "to-night you will see Rudolph. I warn you against him, because he will turn on you if ever he gets the chance."

I glanced apprehensively at my cousin, who was mimicking his father's habit of twisting his moustache, for Francis-Joseph could n't sit for five minutes without making sure that his moustache was still on his face. The Emperor was very kind to me, and told me as a huge joke that I was not a child, but just a Bavarian broomstick.

[ Illustration and caption ]

Schloss Possenhofen on the Lake of Starnberg
(the Birthplace of Empress Elizabeth)

Opera, but before we left, my aunt told me to come to her boudoir. Here she gave me a beautiful diamond hairpin, and fixed it in my hair, which she had stipulated must be dressed in heavy plaits like her own. We sat in the Emperor's private box, and I remember that many people stared at me; but, happy in my white lace gown and glittering diamonds, I felt I could brave criticism, and so I did not mind very much the curious glances which were directed at me.

In the middle of the performance I felt very hungry, for the family dinner was by no means a banquet; so, during the ent'racte I whispered to papa that I should like something to eat. But I was not prepared for the wrath which followed this simple request. "Another word and I will box your ears," he hissed. "How dare you be hungry at the Opera! And if you are, listen to the music and feed on its beauty." I tried to follow his advice, but I felt really sinking, and although I adored the Opera, I was very glad to get back to Schönbrunn and supper.

Our delightful stay in Vienna came to an end all too soon, and we returned to Munich. After I had been a few days at home, I received the following telegram: "I give you Mary, the little

mare you rode at Vienna. She arrives by the next train, and she is your very own. Aunt Elizabeth." I went nearly mad with joy at this fresh proof of my aunt's affection, and I called to mind her parting words to me: "Go on as you are doing, and you will see me again." I felt sure that the Empress trusted me, because on several occasions I had been asked strange questions, to all of which I had answered, "I don't know." Something told me that she herself had put me to the test, and that "I don't know" was exactly what she wished me to say.

When I was sixteen years of age, I had several proposals of marriage, and my most ardent suitor was Count Herbert Bismarck, whom I knew through my great friends, the Princesses Wittgenstein. Laura, the eldest, was much older than I, and she was a lovely woman, who was greatly admired by the late King Edward VII. Herbert Bismarck proposed to me through "Lizzie" Wittgenstein, but as I did not take his proposal seriously, Lizzie interviewed mamma, who promptly went to ask advice from my grandmother, the Duchess of Bavaria. Grandmamma, however, declined to discuss my matri-

monial affairs, and told my mother that she had better speak to King Ludwig on the subject.

The King, who liked me, strongly objected to the proposed match, and said with great decision that he would rather see me dead than married to a Protestant.

After that, mamma declined the honour of a Bismarck alliance, and I did not see my disappointed lover until next May when we went to Kissingen where my aunt the Queen of Naples was staying. Herbert, who had arrived to join his father at Kissingen, was apparently still very much in love with me. One day I received a passionate love letter from him in which he begged me to elope and defy King Ludwig, going on to say that he would wait for me outside the hotel on the following evening.

"He takes too much for granted," thought I, but I was curious enough to see whether he really meant what he had written, so, from my window on the third floor, I watched Herbert walking to and fro, until, convinced that it was hopeless to expect me, he disappeared in the darkness, and temporarily passed out of my life. It was not until years afterwards in Vienna that I saw him again -- when I was Countess Larisch. At Kissingen I received an unexpected letter

from the Empress Elizabeth, who was going to stay at Feldafing close to Possenhofen. She told me I was to join her at once and to bring my horses. "We shall be quite alone," she wrote, "for I intend to dispense with a lady-in-waiting."

Needless to say, I went to Feldafing as soon as I could, and every minute which separated me from my idolized aunt seemed an hour. I made no pretence of hiding my adoration for her, and in spite of her habitually cynical manner, I think she was secretly touched and flattered by it. After all, what is purer and sweeter than a young girl's affection? The morning of life is always the best, and a love which has not sinned or suffered has an appealing purity all its own.

At this time I did not quite understand the Empress. I loved her, and she fascinated me, and gradually, as she took me into her confidence, she told me how irksome she found her life, and how much she hated the pomp and circumstance which surrounded her as Empress of Austria. "I hate the ceremonies of life," she declared. One thing struck me forcibly at this real beginning of our intimacy, and that was my aunt's absorbing passion for her beauty. She loved

her loveliness like a Pagan, and she worshipped it as well. The sight of her perfect body gave her pure æsthetic delight; anything that marred its perfection was inartistic and distasteful to her, and she told me with almost painful frankness how she loathed the periods of child-bearing which had temporarily disfigured the symmetry of her figure. "Ah, the horror of growing old," she exclaimed, "to feel the hand of Time laid upon one's body, to watch the, skin wrinkling, to awake and fear the morning light, and to know that one is no longer desirable! Life without beauty would be worthless to me."

The Empress and I walked together early every morning; she then bathed, her hair was dressed, and afterwards the whole family met at breakfast, which was exactly like a meal at a restaurant as everybody ordered something different. My grandmother came over from Possenhofen; the Queen of Naples and Duke Karl Theodor and his wife and children were also present; from Munich came the Empress's eldest daughter, the Archduchess Gisela; but Rudolph was not one of the party, and I did not regret his absence.

After breakfast we took grandmamma back to Possenhofen; she was a very dignified old

lady who never went anywhere without her two little white Spitz dogs, whose mission in life was to endeavour to bite everyone with whom they came in contact. We generally dined at Possenhofen, and then I rode alone with the Empress in the cool of the evening. Ah! how I remember those happy days. Together we rode through deep woods where the sound of our horses' hoofs was deadened on a fragrant carpet of pine needles; together we startled the furtive wild creatures, and together we watched the sunset, and saw the rising of the moon.

I looked upon Elizabeth as a being from the old world of the Gods. She was Artemis -- cold, beautiful, and arrogant. I saw her in fancy passing through the forests with her hounds hot on the trail of the deer. Again I pictured her ivory loveliness gleaming in the moonlight when she bathed, like Venus -- and in those scented solitudes she was like a Pagan called back from the Past.

One day when we had ridden far into the woods, we came upon a tiny lake covered with water-lilies. Overhead it was canopied by trees, and the still surface looked almost black, for no light penetrated through the interlaced branches. The air was cool with the dampness of ferns and

rain-soaked leaves which covered the ground, and sent up their fragrance to the hidden sky. It was an eerie place, but it appealed to the Empress; so we dismounted, the groom took the horses, and we walked over the spongy turf to some flat moss-covered stones which were close to the water's edge.

"Let us sit down," said Elizabeth; "ah . . . this place must be the haunt of nymphs and wood fairies." She gazed for a long time, without speaking, at the lily-covered water. Then she turned to me: "Do you like fairy stories?"

"Once there was an unhappy young Queen who had married a King who ruled over two countries. They had one son, but they wanted another, to succeed to the other kingdom, which was a lovely land of mountains and forests where the people were romantic and high-spirited. No child came, and the young Queen used to wander alone in the woods and sit by just such another lake. One day she suddenly saw the still surface move, the lilies parted, and then a handsome man appeared, who swam towards her, and presently stood by her side.

"The young Queen was frightened, but the stranger told her not to be alarmed. 'I am the spirit of the lake,' he said, 'and day by day I have watched you weep by the water's edge. Your tears have turned to pearls, and they lie in a golden casket in my palace below. Come, forget the world, and you shall be my Queen and reign happily with me.'

"The young Queen looked at the Water Spirit and sighed. How different he seemed from the King her husband! He wore a shimmering coat of mail, fashioned from the wings of dragon-flies, his bearing was noble, and his handsome, expressive face was lit by large black eyes, in whose depths the Queen read his ardent love.

"'I cannot come with you,' she said, but as she spoke, a strange drowsiness seized her, and leaning her head on the spirit's shoulder, she slept; he lifted her in his arms, and at his bidding the lake opened, and the waters formed a crystal staircase, down which he carried her.

"When the young Queen awoke she found herself in the magic country at the bottom of the lake. The palace was gay with water-flowers, corals, and shimmering shells, and strange-coloured fish looked at her as they swam past the transparent walls. Her lover adorned

her with her tears, which were now long ropes of pearls, and the young Queen was astonished to see how many she had shed, but she remembered that woman's tears are said to be as countless as the sands of Time.

"At intervals the sun flooded the dim light beneath the waters with amber, and sometimes his dying rays tinged it with blood. At night the moon pierced the hearts of the cold flowers, which only unclosed for love of her, and then the fairy kingdom shone with a blue radiance.

"Beautiful nymphs sang and danced before the captive Queen, and twined her heavy hair with gleaming aquamarines and those many-coloured stones which are found in the Rhine. She sat beside her lover on his crystal throne, and slept in his arms on a bed of lily leaves; but after a time her heart ached for the land above the lake, and she entreated him to let her return. At last he consented, so the water nymphs carried her to the surface, and laid her on the grass under the trees, where the sun and the strong wind kissed her back to life, and then she returned to the King's palace.

"Some months passed and the Queen knew that she would have a child, and she longed for a son like the Water Spirit, who would reign over

"But no son came, for when the child was born, the young Queen pressed to her heart a little daughter, with her Fairy father's large black eyes."

"I do not think so," replied the Empress; "when you have more experience of the world you will realise that a baby is the end of many love affairs."

"He had too much vanity to say anything, whatever he may have suspected," said Elizabeth; she laughed her mocking laugh, and was her cynical self again. . . . We rode home in silence.

Life was very pleasant at Feldafing, and I was always glad to see Duke Karl Theodor and his second wife Marie-Josepha, who was an enchanting creature, brimming over with high spirits and twelve years younger than her husband.

She used to laugh at Princess Gisela, who copied everything she wore, and one morning Marie-Josepha appeared wearing a little straw

basket upside down on her head. This, she told Gisela, was the latest Parisian fashion in hats for the day after to-morrow, and when Gisela hastily invented a pretext to return home, Marie-Josepha was highly amused, for she knew that Gisela's sudden journey was solely to command her Munich modiste to procure her a similar straw hat at any price.

Marie-Josepha, who was an Infanta of Portugal, was very kind to me and I remember her with much affection. She always assisted her husband in his operations as an eye specialist, and took the greatest interest in his two hospitals at Munich and Tegernsee.

The Emperor occasionally came to Feldafing for a few days, but he did not like the place. Francis-Joseph did not care about wearing mufti, and the Empress used to annoy him by saying that out of uniform he looked for all the world like a shoemaker in his Sunday clothes. Elizabeth never called Francis-Joseph by his name, but invariably addressed him as "Du" (thou). "'Du,' come here," she would say to the autocrat of Austria, before whose power the whole of his family trembled, and at whose command defiant archdukes went into exile.

his wife. The Empress always spoke in a very low voice, and kept her lips close together; this, and a curious habit of dabbing her mouth constantly with her handkerchief, were due to the fact that her teeth were bad, and she hated showing them. Unless one knew Elizabeth very well, it was difficult to catch what she was saying, and as no one dared ask her to repeat her words, conversation between the Empress and strangers was often a case of cross questions and crooked answers.

I imitated most of my aunt's peculiarities, and so I pursed up my lips and spoke in subdued tones when the Emperor on a particular occasion addressed me.

"For Heaven's sake, Marie," shouted the exasperated "Du" "open your mouth when you talk to me -- I'm sure it's large enough -- and don't get affected, like your Aunt Cissi," whereupon Elizabeth made a perfectly inaudible remark.

Two hours' ride from Feldafing, on the opposite side of Lake Starnberg, was one of King Ludwig's castles, and the Empress, who was very fond of her cousin, often used to go and see him there. One day she asked me to accompany her, and as I had not seen the King for a long

[ Illustration and caption ]

The Duchess of Bavaria,
Grandmother of Countess Marie Larisch

The Empress went into the castle alone, and told me to wait in the Park, for Ludwig was even then a man of moods and had to be tactfully handled when an uninvited visitor was in question. After what seemed quite half-an-hour's wait, the King's valet appeared and conducted me to the castle. I dismounted, and ruefully surveyed myself in the many mirrors, for I was covered with dust and well-nigh choked with it, after our long, hot ride.

I was ushered into a darkened room, and could discern my aunt seated in an arm-chair close to where Ludwig was lying on a chaise longue with his head enveloped in cotton-wool and bandages. The royal sufferer was the victim of a bad toothache, which attacked him periodically, as a result of his over-indulgence in sugar.

A little table, covered with bottles of all sizes, stood at his elbow, and, as I approached, Ludwig feebly waved his hand, but said nothing. Elizabeth tapped my arm and whispered, "Don't laugh," then aloud she said, "The King would like you to sing; go into the music-room and sing Elsa's music from Lohengrin."

I was not overpleased, for my throat was gritty with dust, and I felt I could not do myself justice. "This will be a Swan Song with a vengeance," I thought, as I seated myself before the piano. I was horribly nervous, and as I had no music I sang and played many false notes. However, as Ludwig was obsessed by the toothache, and only required to be soothed somehow, and as my aunt was not at all musical, it did not signify much, so I attacked Elsa's score until the King took pity on me and told me I need not play any longer.

When I came back into the darkened room Aunt Cissi was saying good-bye to the King, who rose from his chair and kissed her hand. I could hardly refrain from laughing, for Ludwig looked indeed an object for mirth. He was the tallest man in Bavaria, and as the bandages which had been tied round his face were left with long upstanding ends, his head looked somewhat like a large white owl's. He graciously extended his hand for me to kiss, and as he did so I was nearly overcome by the mingled odours of laudanum, chloroform, cloves, camphor, and other toothache cures, which it exhaled.

Half-way to Feldafing we were overtaken by a storm, and in a few moments we were soaked

to the skin by a down pour of tropical rain. We took shelter in a cottage which was used for storing hay, and which was occupied by an old woman who we heard afterwards was the widow of a fisherman. She did not recognise the Empress, who asked her if she lived there quite alone.

"Yes -- quite alone," answered the woman, "but I am always waiting for my son to return."

My aunt and I exchanged glances, and I shivered at this uncanny statement, which seemed horrible to hear as the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled around the cottage.

"He will return, continued the woman -- and as she spoke the wind and the rain beat mournfully against the window -- "he will return."

"When God wills," sighed the mother. "But another will take his place, and he who will do so is not far from this cottage."

Elizabeth did not ask any further questions, but she always declared that the woman's utterances were prophetic of Ludwig's death, which,

strangely enough, fulfilled part of the prediction. The Empress told me to give the old woman a thaler, but she did not appear to understand the value of money, so I slipped it into her pocket, and as the storm was nearly over we rode off. A beautiful rainbow spread its coloured arch over the lake. "Now we shall be lucky because we have seen the rainbow," observed my superstitious aunt.

Next day Ludwig sent the Empress a magnificent basket of flowers. There was a lovely bouquet of jasmine for me, and on the card which accompanied it were four words, "For the little singer."

"Do you know what Ludwig said about you?" enquired the Empress. "He told me that you reminded him almost painfully of your Aunt Sophie.^I Ah . . . he will never forget her."

The delightful visit to Feldafing came to an end, and when I parted from Aunt Cissi she told me that I pleased her in many ways, and that she wished me to come to Gödöllõ in September for some months.

CHAPTER III

In September my parents and I left Munich for Gödöllõ. We travelled by special train from Pesth, and I made the two hours' journey in the same compartment as my horses, which were very fidgety and only to be quieted when I was near them.

The Empress met us at the station, mounted on horseback, and I can recall how striking she looked on that lovely autumn afternoon. She was delighted to see me, and papa and mamma were much pleased and flattered by her evident partiality.

Gödöllõ is a hunting box in Hungary which belongs to the Emperor of Austria. The house is a large, long, low building with dome-shaped towers; close to it are dense woods, but the immediate surroundings are a kind of sandy scrub. Elizabeth herself showed us our rooms,

but she did not sup with us and I did not see her again until early the next morning when I received a message that I was to go to her apartments.

Aunt Cissi gave me an affectionate "Good-morning," and then told me to sit down. "Well, Marie," she began, "you see I have fulfilled my promise to ask you here; do you also remember I suggested when we parted at Feldafing that you might care to remain with me until Christmas?"

"As if I could possibly forget," I exclaimed. Elizabeth smiled. "I have come to the decision to see a great deal more of you. Your father is my favourite brother; I love and admire your mother, and I wish to do the utmost in my power for you. But, Marie, my service is not a light one; it requires much which the average girl is not capable of carrying out. You are one of my own blood, and this constitutes a powerful tie. My position as Empress of Austria need never raise a barrier between us. I shall always be Aunt Cissi to you, and you will always be the dear little Marie who saw me cry and who never told anyone."

She pressed my hand and continued: "But listen, my child. At Gödöllõ there is one thing

[ Illustration and caption ]

Empress Elizabeth as a Girl, with Her Brother Duke
Karl Theodore of Bavaria

to remember every hour of the day: You must not speak of anything which you hear or see, and your answers to questions must be 'Yes' and 'No' or 'I don't know.'

"I intend to keep you completely out of Court intrigues, and I want you to be careful of my lady-in-waiting, Countess F----, who is somewhat of a spy.

"Until cub-hunting begins I wish you to have dinner and supper with Valérie. She loves you, and I'm sure you will not refuse to gratify the child's fancy.

"I hope, Marie, I have not alarmed you by what I have said," she added lightly; "there will be a great deal to amuse you here; and now come with me and I will show you something of Gödöllõ"

Elizabeth took me to see her little private circus, which was an exact copy in miniature of a large one. I think a penchant for circuses must run in our family, for my grandfather, Duke Maximilien, had a circus at Munich, where he himself performed to the intense delight of his relations, and, for my own part, I must confess to a love for the sawdust. At Gödöllõ there was a professional ring-master, and many well-trained circus horses, which went

through all the tricks of the haute école. They were pretty creatures, and it was certainly a charming sight to see my aunt in her black velvet habit riding her little Arab round the ring, although it was rather an unusual pastime for an Empress.

The first day of cub-hunting at Gödöllõ began at 5 A.M., but we were up long before that. I drove with my aunt half-way to the meet, where the horses were awaiting us, and then we had half-an-hour's ride to where the field was assembled. Count Nicholas Esterházy, who was master of the hounds, and lived at Megyar, near Gödöllõ, paid his respects to the Empress directly she arrived, and favoured me with a prolonged stare.

I instantly recalled the dark-eyed gentleman rider at Vienna, but as I disliked Count "Nicky's" rough manner, I said coldly, "Oh, yes, I always remember people who stare as rudely as you do." He laughed, and said something in an undertone to Elizabeth, who smiled, and we were soon surrounded by a crowd of gentlemen who were all anxious to be noticed by the Empress. Amongst them were Aristide Baltazzi

and the charming Count Elemér Batthyány, the son of a celebrated victim of the Hungarian Revolution. His father, Count Louis Batthyány, was condemned to death by the Emperor, but he eluded the executioner by poisoning himself in prison, and the heartbroken widow made her son take an oath never under any circumstances to speak to Francis-Joseph.

The Empress was very fond of the Batthyánys; indeed, Elizabeth, who always coquetted with the Revolutionary Party, honoured Count Elemér with many proofs of her friendship.

The Count never forgot his oath, and although he often saw the Emperor in the field, he never acknowledged his presence in any way, and, strange to say, Francis-Joseph never resented this open rudeness; in fact, I think he rather admired the attitude of the Hungarian noble. He was the most handsome man I have ever seen, and his melancholy expression alone made him appear interesting and romantic. Count Elemér was very nice to me, and I saw a great deal of him; we often rode together, and gradually, during those pleasant days, our friendship became something akin to love. One morning, when we were riding under the autumn leaves, the Count asked me to marry him. I

could not, of course, give him a definite answer, for my duty to the Empress only allowed me to say, "I don't know."

Elizabeth's shrewd insight enabled her to read my secret quickly, and on the way back to Gödöllõ she asked me point-blank how I liked Count Elemér.

"Well," said Elizabeth lightly, "I'm inclined to think it might be a good match; you might influence him to be friendly with the Emperor. But, my dear Marie, Elemér as a husband would be very disappointing."

I confided my aunt's cryptic remarks to Count "Nicky" Esterházy, and asked him if there was anything dreadful in Elemér's past life. "Nicky" was extremely amused at my question, and observed:

"Well, Baroness, all I can say is that there is nothing dreadful about Batthyány's past. It is only his health which does not justify him in marrying." Then growing serious, he remarked:

"Your aunt is very selfish; she wants you all to herself, and even if I were to propose to you, she would no doubt warn you against me."

We hunted three times a week, and it was perfectly delightful. Elizabeth looked lovely on horseback. Her hair was plaited round her head, and she invariably wore a high hat; her habit fitted her tightly, and she was always sewn into it every time she rode. By this I mean that once the bodice was on, her tailor sewed the skirt to it, and I could never imagine the reason for this strange whim. The Empress wore high laced boots with tiny spurs; she put on three pairs of gloves, and her indispensable fan was always slipped in her saddle.