Joseph II. and His Court | Page 5

MARIA THERESA.

CHAPTER I
.
THE CONFERENCE.
In the council-chamber of the Empress Maria Theresa, the six lords,
who composed her cabinet council, awaited the entrance of their
imperial mistress to open the sitting.
At this sitting, a great political question was to be discussed and its
gravity seemed to be reflected in the faces of the lords, as, in low tones,
they whispered together in the dim, spacious apartment, whose
antiquated furniture of dark velvet tapestry corresponded well with the
anxious looks of its occupants.
In the centre of the room stood the Baron von Bartenstein and the
Count von Uhlefeld, the two powerful statesmen who for thirteen years

had been honored by the confidence of the empress. Together they
stood, their consequence acknowledged by all, while with proud and
lofty mien, they whispered of state secrets.
Upon the fair, smooth face of Bartenstein appeared an expression of
haughty triumph, which he was at no pains to conceal; and over the
delicate mouth of Von Uhlefeld fluttered a smile of ineffable
complacency.
"I feel perfectly secure," whispered Von Bartenstein. "The empress will
certainly renew the treaties, and continue the policy which we have
hitherto pursued with such brilliant results to Austria."
"The empress is wise," returned Uhlefeld. "She can reckon upon our
stanch support, and so long as she pursues this policy, we will sustain
her."
While he spoke, there shot from his eyes such a glance of conscious
power, that the two lords who, from the recess of a neighboring
window, were watching the imperial favorites, were completely
dazzled.
"See, count" murmured one to the other, "see how Count Uhlefeld
smiles to-day. Doubtless he knows already what the decision of the
empress is to be; and that it is in accordance with his wishes, no one
can doubt who looks upon him now."
"It will be well for us," replied Count Colloredo, "if we subscribe
unconditionally to the opinions of the lord chancellor. I, for my part,
will do so all the more readily, that I confess to you my utter ignorance
of the question which is to come before us to-day. I was really so
preoccupied at our last sitting that I--I failed exactly to comprehend its
nature. I think, therefore, that it will be well for us to vote with Count
von Uhlefeld--that is, if the president of the Aulic Council, Count
Harrach, does not entertain other opinions."
Count Harrach bowed. "As for me," sighed he, "I must, as usual, vote
with Count Bartenstein. His will be, as it ever is, the decisive voice of
the day; and its echo will be heard from the lips of the empress. Let us
echo them both, and so be the means of helping to crush the
presumption of yonder crafty and arrogant courtier."
As he spoke he glanced toward the massive table of carved oak, around
which were arranged the leathern arm-chairs of the members of the
Aulic Council. Count Colloredo followed the glance of his friend,

which, with a supercilious expression, rested upon the person to whom
he alluded. This person was seated in one of the chairs, deeply
absorbed in the perusal of the papers that lay before him upon the table.
He was a man of slight and elegant proportions, whose youthful face
contrasted singularly with the dark, manly, and weather-beaten
countenances of the other members of the council. Not a fault marred
the beauty of this fair face; not the shadow of a wrinkle ruffled the
polish of the brow; even the lovely mouth itself was free from those
lines by which thought and care are wont to mark the passage of man
through life. One thing, however, was wanting to this beautiful mask. It
was devoid of expression. Those delicate features were immobile and
stony, No trace of emotion stirred the compressed lips; no shadow of
thought flickered over the high, marble brow; and the glance of those
clear, light-blue eyes was as calm, cold, and unfeeling as that of a
statue. This young man, with Medusa-like beauty, was Anthony
Wenzel von Kaunitz, whom Maria Theresa had lately recalled from
Paris to take his seat in her cabinet council.
The looks of Harrach and Colloredo were directed toward him, but he
appeared not to observe them, and went on quietly with his
examination of the state papers.
"You think, then, count," whispered Colloredo, thoughtfully, "that
young Kaunitz cherishes the absurd hope of an alliance with France?"
"I am sure of it. I know that a few days ago the French ambassador
delivered to him a most affectionate missive from his friend the
Marquise de Pompadour; and I know too that yesterday he replied to it
in a similar strain: It is his fixed idea, and that of La Pompadour also, to
drive Austria into