The Royal Sisters; or, Pictures of a court

Front matter

THE ROYAL SISTERS-, OR, PICTURES OF A COURT. BT MRS. ROBERT CARTWRIGHT, AUTHOR OF "LAMIA, A CONFESSION," " CHRIST ABELLE," "AMBROSE, THE SCULPTOR," &c, &c. " Leseerivains comme les instituteurs, ameliorent bien plus surement par ce qu'Us inspirent que par ce qu'ils enseignent. Les pensees delicates et pures, dans la vie comme dans les livres animent chaque parole, se peignent dans chaque trait, sans qu'il soit pour cela necessatre de les declarer fonnellement ni de les riSdiger en masimes ; et la moralite* d'un ouvrage d'imagination consiste bien plus dans l'impression generale qu'on en reooit que dans les details qu'on en retient." Madame de Stael. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL I. LONDON : J. F. HOPE, 16, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET 1857.

Preface

. The Author wishes to state that she lays no claim to any amount of historical accuracy in the matter of this work ; preferring, for obvious reasons, to leave her readers to draw their own conclusions as to the degree of truth or fiction interwoven in its pages. The story is intended to illustrate the manners of the North of Europe, nearly a century ago, by scenes pourtrayed from public and from private life : while the fact to he found in its narrative may be drawn from her own conviction of the truth of the somewhat trite apothegm, that persons in the highest stations are subject to trials, often more severe than those of humbler individuals, and that such trials are realities in the solemn drama of life from which no greatness escapes, and no privacy lies hid. Craven Hill, Hyde Park, November, 1857.

Introduction

. Lbttees from the Princess Esperanza Ostroleuska, nee Pavloff Rakowska, to Madame K. F. C. " Mt Dear Madam, You had so often expressed to me the pleasure you formerly experienced in the society of my late lamented aunt, the Countess von Brunnersdorf, that I am induced, with a thousand apologies, to make you what must be a very unexpected request : first detailing the circumstances that have led me to take such a step. My aunt, at her death, some few years ago, left me her universal legatee ; and among the various things that then came into my possession, were a number of papers of both public and private interest. One of the packets into which they had been divided, contained an almost com plete Autobiography, with an express injunction not to publish it for a certain number of years after her death, and that of two or three persons who were frequently mentioned in it.

You may imagine, madam, the high value such a manu script must possess in my eyes, and in that of my mother who was devotedly attached to her, and whose early life was so connected with Countess von Brunnersdorf.

INTRODUCTION.

. VI Acting on my parent's wishes therefore, and knowing your literary tastes, as well as the long habit you have had of writing yourself, I am tempted to ask, whether you will kindly undertake to publish for me, this precious relic of a dear relative. No one would do it better, and the friendship you had for my aunt, and the true estimate you have ever formed of her honourable and truly Chris tian character, confirm me in the view I have taken of this case. Your own reputation is a guarantee that you, as Editor, would do full justice to the probity and truth fulness which so eminently distinguished the writer. I earnestly hope that you will not refuse me this request. I frequently recall to my memory the happy hours which we spent together at the baths of Ems — when my father and mother, although fresh from the loss of one who was more than a sister to the one and a parent to the other, found such consolation in your society, and in talking over with a true friend the virtues of her whose life I now offer to you in this inclosure ; and which, with your valuable assistance, we hope to see in a more perfect form.

My father wishes particularly to see it in the English tongue, as England is a country which my late, lamented aunt preferred to all others, both for its political and moral associations, as well as its noble and widely diffused literature. I trust that your own recollection of my aunt is suf ficiently strong to aid you in any notes or additions that

INTRODUCTION.

. VII may be necessary ; and that your insight into the principles and motives of that distinguished woman will be extensive enough to assist you in the development of her actions. Many of her notes are so brief and concise that they must be a little enlarged upon ; and there lies the great, responsibility of an Editor — and I may add danger. But I will not enter more deeply into a discussion that would lead me away from the object I have in view. I will only add that — formed to shine in a court — Countess Brunnersdorf was as simple in mind and religious in her duties, as the most recluse among her sex. A perfect judge of that deceitful political atmosphere in which : — ' All that gUtters is not gold,' she preferred, in the careful education of her Sovereign's daughters, a life of private worth and happiness, to public display and brilliancy.

My dear mother, and my aunt Thekla, were to her as the most beloved children ; my father seemed rather an elder son than a brother. Her knowledge of man kind, and general subjects, of morals and of manners, under the guidance of Christian principles, found their true place in a mind as candid as it was finely balanced ; but you, who knew her in those last years of her life, will, far better than myself, vouch for the accuracy of this portrait. Now, madam, I have but to repeat my apologies for so

INTRODUCTION.

. urgent a request, and to subscribe myself, with sentinjentB of the highest esteem and consideration, Your most faithfully attached friend, Princess Esperanza Ostrolenska, nee Pavloff-Rakowska." The answer to the amiable Princess's request is to be read in the following pages, containing a revised and cor rected edition of the Autobiography of Paula, Countess von Brunnersdorf, as found after death, in her own handwriting.

Chapter I

I thought how once Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals old or young ; And as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung At shadow 'cross me. Straightway I was 'ware, So creeping how a mystic shape did move Behind, and drew me backwards by the hair ; And a voice said in mastery, while I strove. " Guess now who holds thee ?" " Death," I said ; but then The silver answer rang, " Not Death — but Love." E. Barrett Browning. I am the daughter of an old but untitled nobleman of the Ukraine, one of those wealthy proprietors who, in the last century, lived and consumed all their income on their estates, and thereby produced a certain amount of material ; OR, prosperity among their peasantry, which it would have been well for Poland to have seen extended.

He took little part in the politics of the day, saying that it was enough for a Polish noble to remember that he was a Pole, and that no other principle or reflection was wanted to teach him to oppose the foes of his country, from what side soever they approached. We lived com fortably rather than luxuriously, plentifully but not ostentatiously ; hospitality was the one thing needful, the chief virtue of the house. I had one brother, younger than myself by some years, who was born just as we heard of the first outbreak of the Russian war. My mother was overcome with melancholy fore bodings, and expected with only too prophetic a spirit the total downfall of her family. And even so it befell us. During an inroad of the Cossacks, under the command of the most furious of the Muscovite leaders, the order was given to burn all the country houses, and all the illages belonging to my father.

As he had been long known as a violent anti-Russian, and had made himself particularly obnoxious to the priests of the Greek Church, who under Russian protection were then all powerful in the Ukraine, the order was but too punctually obeyed by a band of the fanatical peasantry. My father, mother, and only brother perished in the flames, or in the hideous massacre which accompanied it. The Cossacks, true to their ancient character, com mitted the most wanton excesses. I was then twelve years old, and can but too well remember some of the scenes of that dreadful period. How I escaped seems, however, but a confused dream now, on looking back upon the horrors of that fearful night. I cannot remember the frightful details with anything like accuracy. I only know that God took care of the orphan, and that shelter and concealment were afforded me in the cottage of a poor woman who had been my nurse, and to whom, and to whose children my mother had shown great kindness in former times.

Here I remained unknown for many months ; nursed through a long illness OR, which succeeded my rescue from that scene of horror ; and which no doubt was caused by the effect produced upon my childish faculties by the terrors to which I had been exposed. The con sequences of this illness were singular. I lost all memory of the past — it was at least happy for myself that I did so — and it was only from the lips of my nurse ; that I obtained any reliable account of the frightful events I have related. I remembered well all that had previously occurred : I could call to mind the image of a fair and loving mother ; of her caresses, or those of my father ; of playing with my infant brother ; but all after this was a blank, and a merciful veil hid from me the fearful end ordained to that home of domestic affection, of innocent and peaceful enjoyment.

On my recovery from this long and protracted illness, I had grown tall and womanly in appearance, although thin and wasted in frame. Everything was done for me that this poor family could afford ; although, ne cessarily, I was fed and clad as a peasant girl, and helped not unwillingly, to do all the work and drudgery of the cottage that was suitable to my age. My nurse and I would sometimes talk of my future prospects; which were, indeed, any thing but hopeful, for the Russians had then es tablished their law throughout the Ukraine ; and a commission, we heard, had been appointed to take account of my family estates, which were to be divided, according to report, among the plunderers. The Cossack Hetman, who had first ravaged the property, was to have half of it, and the rest was to go to another officer, a favourite of the Empress.

Anyhow, it became impossible for me to remain where I was. The peasants' families would be registered, some sent, perhaps, to Siberia, or elsewhere ; I should be discovered. " Why not write to your uncle, the Count, at Berlin ?" said the good nurse one day to me. " I can send the letters by my son-in-law, Stephan, who is in the Prussian service, and will deliver it to Count Wangenheim himself, if he is at Berlin." I eagerly seized the hint, though not without misgivings, as Stephan might be ; OR, ordered into a distant province or my uncle him self be travelling ; but I wrote my brief tale of distress, and left the rest to Providence. My pious confidence was rewarded. After two months more anxious waiting, a letter arrived from Stephan to his mother-in-law, saying he had delivered my note into my uncle's own hands, and that he had been desired to call the next morning for directions.

These he accordingly received, and they were in substance, to write to my nurse, to inform her that a letter would be sent to the post-office at Krzemieniec, addressed to her, but that its contents were to be commu nicated to her young lady. He was at the same time to write a letter to herself (the present one), addressed to her usual abode. Thus far the plan had answered. My nurse, after pondering on what she had learnt, resolved to proceed on the following Saturday, being market-day, with a few baskets of fowls, hares, and other country pro duce, in a swift sledge to Krzemieniec, although it was not her usual market-town, being at a considerable distance. Her son Peter, who from being lame had escaped the necessity of serving in the army, and consequently hved unnoticed and comparatively unmolested by the Russians, was to select his best horses and drive her there early enough to return the same night to our cottage.

In winter when the snow is firm, long journeys are performed in an incredibly short space of time by a Ught sledge and good Ukrainian horses. On arriving at the town, my good nurse, as she afterwards told me, disposed of her game at marvellously low prices, insomuch that she was the wonder of the whole market. In fact, she was so impatient to go to the post-office that she thought little of her bargains and more of her letter : yet she dared not show among the crowd of Russians and curious idlers who were collected together in the market-place, that she was intent on anything else but her common country business. At length she sold the last fowl, and trudged away to the post-office. When there she asked, with a degree of trembling ; OR, anxiety that had nearly betrayed her, whether there was any letter for a person of her name.

" None," she was told, briefly and rudely. " None !" she exclaimed ; " what, none from Berlin ?" " From Berlin ?" replied the surly official " who would have thought of the like of you receiving outlandish letters ? — I have not yet sorted the Prussian bags, and shall not till I have had my vodky," (vodky — little water — is Russian for brandy). " Now, you will get a quicker and a better glass of vodky with this, Mr. Postmaster," said my nurse, slipping the price of a fowl into his hand ! which the man taking, pocketed without thanks or observation : while he showed his gratitude by opening a bag with a German superscription on it, and began sorting its contents. After a considerable time, and much patience on my nurse's part, he pulled out of the very bottom of the bag a letter, of which the address agreed with what she expected.

She paid the postage, and hastily retreated ; being anxious to return home before night, and a fresh snowstorm, which threatened, might set in. Late, however, she arrived ; and finding me nearly dead with impatience, she kindly gave me the letter to read, without previously reading it, though addressed to herself. It proved to be a very affectionate, hearty letter of congratulation from my uncle on my escape from death — of which he was previously unaware, and which seemed to him little short of miraculous, from my detail of the circumstances ; knowing, as he did, the ter rible state of the country. He invited me tu join him at Berlin without loss of time, and offered me an asylum and home in his house as long as I chose to live there. As might be imagined, my departure was immediately arranged — nor did the preparations for it take long.

My good nurse, always fertile in expedients, with some difficulty ob tained leave from the petty Russian tyrant who temporarily ruled the province as District Com missary, and a passport to go a day beyond the VOL. k B ; OR, frontier to see her son-in-law in the Prussian service, then quartered in the nearest garrison ; and she took me as her maid. The trusty Peter, who would have done anything to serve me, was again the driver ; and on a bright, hard winter's morning, well wrapped up in thick wolf and sheep skins, and myself equipt by nurse's care in a new, white hare's skin pelisse concealed under my humbler peasant's dress, we started for the last Russian post. Here we were detained with tedious and impertinent formali ties, and many other vexations and questions, to all of which my nurse, who was a shrewd woman, had provided herself with sufficient answers, either in words or cash — and a httle went a great way with the Russian functionaries in those times.

Peter on no account would they suffer to pass over, but threatened to send him to serve the Empress, if he stirred from the station before his mother's return. Taking a hearty leave of him, with sincere thanks for his friendly assistance, we quickly stepped upon Prussian ground ; and feeling ourselves comparatively safe, both nurse and myself — the moment we were free from observation — dropped on our knees and thanked God aloud for being quit of Muscovite dominion. " I, alas ! my child," said she, " must return there ; but they will not trouble an old woman like me much — besides, it is a reason for their leaving Peter unmolested. If I could not say he was there to help me, he would be sent off with the next batch of recruits to Turkey, or Siberia — he might be torn from me yet." The poor mother could hardly restrain her tears at the thought of separation from her favourite son.

At last the moment arrived when it was imperatively necessary that we should part. She placed me in the hands of her daughter and son-in-law, with whom I was to remain as privately as possible, until Count Wangenheim could send for me. My poor nurse, who always thought the Muscovites — as she invariably called the Russians — were at her elbow, whispered to me through her tears, her ; OR, last injunction to be very careful " not to let it be known who I was." They were already en quiring about me before I came away. They had heard a rumour of my escape, and would certainly have discovered me in time, then." Poor nurse ! she returned home, and left me with her daughter ; who received me kindly, but wisely prevented my being seen by either Prus sians or Russians, who swarmed in the place. " We know they are all spies," said she ; " but our Commandant is afraid to take any steps against them, and would certainly not refuse to give you up if demanded."

My first measure was, to write again to my uncle, throwing myself unreservedly on his kind ness, and asking his instructions. The post was then slow. I waited ten days for an answer, which came at last by the hands of an old steward and his wife, who were sent purposely to bring me to Berlin. Under this safe escort I arrived at that city. My trepidation was great as I ascended the staircase to my uncle's abode. I tried to brin-r him more directly and distinctly to my recol lection — not having seen him since a visit he had paid us in Poland some years before ; when, as I well remembered, he had been very fond of my childish ways, and encouraged my early pro pensity to study. But, a few years are sufficient to dim a child's recollection of persons ; and when my uncle came out of his library to receive me, I could not quite persuade myself that I had ever seen him before.

The moment, however, I heard his voice, and the soft, kind tone in which he bade me welcome, the dear old uncle was the same again. I remembered everything ; our poor old house, my dear parents, my infant brother who had been his plaything at the same time with me — all rushed before my senses. I felt giddy with emotion, and could only utter, " Dear uncle ;" when his reply, " Paula, my dear child " was so exactly in the sound of my beloved mother's own voice that I could forbear no longer, but fell into his arms in a flood of tears. " Poor child !" said he, " thou hast much to OR, 22 weep for ; yet, God be praised, I can at least afford a shelter to my dear sister's only remaining orphan." He tenderly kissed me, and desiring the housekeeper to install me in my little apartment not far from her own, told me to feel at home in his house, and that he would talk more when I should have taken some repose, Till then he would not enter upon the story of my sufferings.

Of course I afterwards told him all that I have narrated above ; entering more into particulars with regard to persons and things with which he was so imperfectly acquainted. News then travelled slowly, and the German governments had aheady begun the policy of systematically blinding their people to what happens beyond their own frontiers ; which they have but too successfully pursued since.

Chapter II

A poet says, Love at odd hours hath smiled, And covered with his pinions sportively, Where he espied some hairs that seemed like Time's Rather than his. Walter Savage Landor. After all I had gone through, I desired quiet. My uncle kindly informed himself of my studies ; and finding, as might have been expected, that the disastrous events of so many months had greatly thrown me back in much that I had learnt, im mediately placed me in the hands of the best masters. I also began to learn a variety of accomplishments, for which there had been no opportunity in Poland. My uncle's apartment was not a large one; coming to Berlin but ■24 THE ROYAL SISTERS; OR, rarely, ancl never mixing with the world when there, he required but a bachelor's lodging, — provided always there was room for his books and philosophical instruments, — and while at Berlin, saw no company, save a few philosophers, very much like himself; and one or two old relatives.

As the world and life were before me, and I was too happy to feel myself in a home with one who daily more and more recalled to me the remembrance of my own dear parents, I did not feel the least dull or ennuyee in this mode of living. I liked study, and strove to please my uncle. I was not sorry, however, to hear him say one day, " The season is becoming so fine that we must soon go into the country. Paul chen, you must see Schloss Wangenheim." I cannot forbear to mention one instance of my uncle's liberality, which was more grateful to me than any of the numerous personal favours which I experienced from him. One day that I earnestly expressed the wish to do anything that could repay to my good nurse and her family, who I knew suffered many privations, the immense service I had received from them — nothing less than preservation of my existence in a time of peril — he asked me in his quiet serious manner to point out a method of alle viating their domestic condition, without giving rise to suspicions which might prove dangerous for them.

I answered that I knew they could not accept money — anything else was difficult to send ; the mere communication with them from abroad was hazardous, and might cause them to be suspected by the Russians ; while any intima tion of the sort of service they had rendered me would be absolute ruin and Siberia. My uncle, therefore, proposed to settle a small pension on my nurse's daughter and her husband in the Prussian service, which should be sufficient to cover the amount of a trifling pittance my nurse managed to wring from her own necessities; and which she could only contrive to transmit to them at uncertain intervals, and with considerable risk. This was arranged, and my uncle became doubly dear to me, from having enabled ; OR, me to prove gratitude to those to whom my heart felt so deeply indebted.

We were now settled at Schloss Wangenheim, a gloomy old German chateau, of no exterior beauty, but picturesquely situated in an exten sive forest, near the banks of a small pellucid lake. The deep, sandy roads by which it was approached, were at that time so bad, that I sufficiently appreciated my uncle's little inclination to make more journeys to and fro than were absolutely necessary. There was a very good library, music, pictures, all the materials for assisting me to prosecute my studies, being so inclined ; but it would have been an awful solitude to a girl who might not have taken to it so willingly as I did. Here I passed the greater part of six years of my life, during which we spent three winters and part of one spring at Berlin. This was enough to keep up some connection with the world, and to enable me to lay the foundation of a few valuable acquaintances for my future life.

In the country we seldom saw a visitor. Now and then some old friend of my uncle's, who were always per sons of worth and acquirements, if happening to pass through our province, would come and stay a few days. Once or twice a year some distant relatives, Wangenheims of another branch, would pay him a visit of some duration, but of near neigh bours we had none. As I had spoken German more or less from my infancy, I was soon at home in the language and literature of my adopted country. I had scarcely any female society, of my own age at least, and had, there fore, in a great degree my own character to form- I was serious and grave beyond my years ; and educated by, and associating with men of culti vated minds and elevated pursuits, had little taste for the frivolities and amusements said to be natural to my age and sex at that period, and which from my later experience in life, and after some reflection, I believe to be simply the effect of habit and association upon youthful minds, and not an absolute condition or psychological necessity of female existence, as laid down in certain philosophies.

As I grew up I became more and more useful to my uncle, whose advancing years incapacitated him from the care of his household, and I at last became so far mistress of all that surrounded me that I not unnaturally acquired a degree of independence which, I could see, rather perplexed the starched formality of the conventional ladies of Berlin. Time wore on ; I passed a studious, quiet, and, therefore, happy youth ; grateful in the first place to that Providence who had mercifully res cued me from destruction, and, next to the kind and generous uncle who had been the means of preserving me in my proper sphere. Worldly riches I had none, I was dependent for everything on my uncle ; but his liberality, and even more the command he gave me of his home and possessions, allowed me perfect freedom of action within the circle wherein I was placed.

Some greater variety of female acquaintances, both older and of my own age, might probably have been an advantage to me, as I have since seen ; it is, perhaps, a wonder I did not grow into an original and a savage. But what I lost in this way in some respects, I may have gained in others : for, on retrospection, I can confidently say I was free from vanity, either of personal or mental claims to notice — and the companionship and training given to the female disposition by a man of the elevated and sincere character of my uncle, endowed me with a truth and earnestness in my pursuits either of study or amusement — a solidity and steadiness of judgment — which is less in the power of women than in that of men to impress upon the youthful character. That there may be disadvantage as well as advantage in such a course of training — comprehending those classical studies generally confined to the other 6ex — I am willing to admit ; but, on the whole, I have reason to think, from my later experience, that such a system, if judiciously carried out, and admitting the co-operation of female tastes and employments, would do more to strengthen our sex for their future intercourse with the illusions and struggles of existence, than the blind conventionalities — the empty and insufficient plausibilities to which we trust for our formation of the female character at this period of our civilisation.

I am not advocating abnegation of all restraint or discipline in the education of young women ; I am only anxious for a true and sincere appreciation of the diffi culties and perils of their position — not a negative and ignorant submission, but a wise and virtuous obedience to those duties and affections for which their Creator has ordained them. Truth and reason, not ignorance and conventionality, ought to be their guides through even the earliest and least difficult period of their career — but I diverge from the course of my narrative. Books— hard, old, dry books, in which my uncle and I both delighted — were mine in plenty, but I was often at a loss to talk with the ladies I occasionally met; and soon found that the gentlemen I encountered in general society were unable or afraid to talk with me.