Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 60, No. 370, August 1846

The Jew rubbed his hands with an air of satisfaction, which seemed to show that the profits to be divided from his association in the political manœuvres of his visitor were to be proportionate to the success of these hazardous schemes, and that visions of golden reward already floated before his eyes.

"And the opening of the Diet is still fixed for the 11th?" inquired the Italian, after a pause, in which he had allowed his unwonted enthusiasm to cool down to a bearing of indifference, which was more his nature.

"Yes – the day following the morrow," answered Bandini.

"Has she already made her appearance in the city?" again asked his visitor.

"It is supposed that she is not yet here. There has been no solemn entry; but she must be here every hour," was the reply.

"In that morrow we have as yet time for much," said the cavaliere. "I must pursue my measures here with caution. My great scheme, of which more, perhaps, hereafter, may be tried at any issue; and woe betide Maria Theresa, if" —

As he uttered these words, the Italian was startled and interrupted by the abrupt opening of the door of the apartment. The Jew turned round with surprise, whilst his companion, checking the first involuntary movement, which induced him to look in the same direction, buried himself in his chair, so as to conceal himself as much as possible from the intruder.

The person who entered was a tall old man, whose erect figure and firm step proved how little time had weighed upon his natural vigour. His features were bold and rude, although not deficient in that species of manly beauty which an expression of confidence and energy bestows, and were fully displayed by the disposal of his grizzled hair, which, torn back from his forehead, and plastered over his head with an evident profusion of grease, descended on to his back in a long braided tail. His dress was of that description known in other parts of Europe as the hussar uniform, which was worn by certain of the domestics belonging to the Hungarian nobility. The yellow braid profusely bestowed across the breast of his jacket, and upon the pockets and sides of his tight blue pantaloons, was of a colour that showed what good service his attire had already seen. In his brawny hands he held his shako, as he advanced into the room, with more of rudeness than of deference in his manner.

"Is it you, Master Farkas?" said the Jew, rising to meet him. "I did not hear you enter."

"I opened the street door below with the pass-key you gave us," replied the man; whilst, at these words, the cavaliere stamped his foot in anger.

"You made but little noise," resumed Bandini suspiciously.

"I suppose you were too much engaged to hear us; for I see you have a visitor," said the old man, fixing his eyes upon the form whose back was turned to him, and advancing familiarly further into the room.

But the Jew intercepted him.

"What do you want here, Master Farkas?"

"Teremtette!" said the fellow roughly. "Would you have my lord up to bed in the dark, like a rat or a gipsy thief? I want a light."

"I will attend your master forthwith," said the Jew, taking up the hand-lamp, and hastening to the door.

"My master, ugh! My lord, if it please or please not your worship," growled Farkas, preceding the landlord out of the apartment.

When the Jew returned, his visitor confronted him with angry looks.

"See to what you expose me, fellow, by your villanous meanness!" exclaimed the cavaliere. "And, not content with harbouring vagabonds in your house, that, for aught I know, may be spies upon us, you furnish them with pass-keys, to surprise us when they will – to ear-wig at the doors, hear our discourse, betray our secrets. How now, fellow, what have you to answer?"

"I tell you that they are most innocent and unsuspecting rustics, both," stammered the Jew – "both master and man. There can be no danger."

"No danger!" continued the angry cavaliere. "No danger, fellow! Cospetto! this very circumstance may be my ruin! That voice, too, was not unknown to me. I have heard it somewhere, although I know not where. It sounded to me as the reminiscence of some past evil – a raven's croak, announcing still more ill to come. Santa Vergine! If we are lost, I will have your life, with my own hand;" and he half drew his sword from the scabbard.

Bandini drew back sulkily, with further protestations, deprecations, and endeavours to mollify his visitor: but it was long before the cavaliere could be appeased. Once he left the room and listened in the passage, and at the young Hungarian's door. Then he descended to the street entrance, and examined the lock: and only when convinced that the other inhabitants of the house were still, and had probably retired to rest, did he come back. When he returned to the Jew's room, his brow was still knitted angrily; but, after drawing a bolt across the door, he sat down with less of agitation.

More unfriendly words again passed between the confederates; but, after a time, the Italian spy and the Jew money-lender were again conversing, in lowered tones, upon the schemes of the former.

Chapter II

"Underneath the grove of sycamore,
That westward rooteth from the city's side —
So early walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made; but he was ware of me
And stole into a covert of the wood." —

******

"Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her —
O teach me how I should forget to think."

    – Shakspeare.

"Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch!"

    – Idem.

On the following afternoon, the sun shone brightly; and the whole atmosphere, in spite of the slight haze which faintly silvered the distant hills, was imbued with that exhilarating freshness and lightness, which sheds a poetic charm of animation, vividness, and – did it not appear a paradox – it might be added, youth also, over an Hungarian autumn, unknown in other European countries.

The streets of Presburg were thronged by the crowds whom the approaching opening of the Diet, convoked by Maria Theresa, had attracted to that city; and highly picturesque and varied was the scene composed by the multifarious parties, pushing and thrusting along, or gathered in groups and knots, discussing the momentous events of those troubled times, between the rows of antique houses, which bestow upon Presburg the aspect rather of an old town of the German Empire, than of less civilized Hungary.

In the middle space pranced upon their richly caparisoned steeds, glittering with the hanging trappings of that semi-oriental taste which, although somewhat modified, still forms a striking characteristic of the country, several of the Hungarian magnates, already attired in the national costumes – the richly embroidered attila, or long frock-coat, loaded with ornament – the furred cloak, clasped with glittering jewels to the shoulder – the high flat cap of fur or velvet, displaying an egret of rare feathers, which dashed upwards from the diamond broach – the tight gold-braided pantaloons – the tasselled boots – their powdered hair alone displaying, in some instances, their submission to the fashion of the day in other countries. Thronging among them were many of the lesser nobles, either on horseback or on foot, all dressed in the same characteristic style, with less of richness and embroidery, according to their lesser ranks or lesser means – each dress cut, and fashioned, and braided, according to the taste or whim of the wearer. Now and then rumbled along a cumbrous gilded and fantastically painted coach, swinging heavily between its monstrous gilded wheels, and sometimes adorned upon the four corners of its broad projecting roof with clumps of feathers, not unlike an ancient tester-bed – the coachman in richly-laced Hungarian livery, or in the silver-buttoned vest, hanging white sleeves, and broad white trowsers of the peasant; but of finer stuff, gayer embroidery, and richer fringe to the trowsers' edge, than the humbler of his class, as befitted the elevation to which he had been raised – the six horses, loaded with studded sparkling harness, and hanging strips of metal-behung leather, which streamed down the flanks and shoulders. Within them sat alone the proud dames of the Hungarian magnates, in even costlier dress than was the wont of that period of costly and cumbrous attire – their powdered heads adorned with the bejewelled caps of the national costume; for in those days a man, who really deemed himself a man, disdained to show himself the lazy tenant of these moving houses; and more especially the Hungarian, who considered the name of horseman as synonymous with that of man, and himself as born to be "a tamer of horses." Amidst these heavier vehicles, the light wooden carts of the peasant-noble, ignorant of all attempt at springs, of all harness but the rudest cords, endeavoured in vain to advance rapidly, in obedience to the impatience of the small, meagre, but impetuous horses of Tartar race which were lightly attached to them.

Among the crowded pedestrians was the scene still more checkered with kaleidescope variety. Here the embroidered pantaloons, the braided dolmans, and the feathered bonnets, were mingled with the long-fringed, full white trowsers, the large hanging shirt-sleeves, the broad-brimmed upturned hats – from beneath which streamed long black shaggy mane-like locks, over dark swarthy countenances, adorned with immense hanging moustaches – and the huge sheepskin cloaks, decorated on the exterior with fancifully embroidered flowers, and patches of bright cloth; the jaunty, dancing, bold, easy air of the Hungarians, all booted and spurred even to the very children, contrasting with the slouched gait of the Sclavonians, with their curiously sandled feet – the Croat, still attired like the Dacian of old, thronging along with the demi-brigand of the southern provinces, whose savage bandit aspect would have struck terror in the streets of any more civilized land – the purple talas, and long flowing beard of the followers of the Greek Pope, sweeping against the dark robe of the bald monk from the neighbouring convent – the smoother, finer gown of the richer Catholic priest brushing past the white uniform of the Austrian grenadier, with his conical headpiece, and long powdered pigtail.

Amidst the hum of the many voices, the salutations of friends, the laughter of some of the squeezing throng, the oaths of others, the cries of the coachmen and the shouts of the horsemen to those who obstructed the streets, arose, nevertheless, one unwearied and endless sound – the sound of ringing metal – from the rattling of the universal spurs, and the clashing of the many sabres.

But if the scene was varied, more varied still were the emotions of the crowd – among those, at least, who were more deeply interested in the result of the event which had called together a great part of the nation within the walls of the city of Presburg; according as their party feelings or private interests led them to desire that resistance should be shown to the appeal made by her whom the Hungarians styled their "King," to her faithful subjects of Hungary, for succour under her distresses; or as their enthusiasm or attachment to the House of Austria induced them to wish that every assistance should be bestowed to enable her to restore her fallen fortunes.

The situation of Maria Theresa was indeed desperate. Her right to the countries inherited by her from her father Charles VI., emperor of Germany, were contested by almost all the other states of Europe. Her friends and allies were few; and those few seemed to have deserted her at this critical juncture. And yet with what confidence, with what a well-assured prospect of a glorious reign, had she mounted the throne secured to her!

As early as the year 1713, the Emperor Charles VI. had issued, in his privy council, a solemn ordinance, by which the female succession was secured throughout his states, in case of the failure of male issue – an ordinance well known in history, under the name of the "Pragmatic Sanction." It was published throughout the Austrian states as inviolable law, was made known to all the European courts, and by degrees guaranteed by all, forming the ground and basis of all their treaties and alliances with the House of Austria, and was moreover confirmed by oath by the princes allied to the family by their intermarriage with Austrian princesses. It was this ordinance, which only afterwards came into effect upon the death of the Archduke Leopold, the only son of Charles VI., that secured the right of succession to his daughter Maria Theresa, who at his decease, which occurred in October 1740, and closed the male succession of the House of Hapsburg, succeeded him, with the title of Queen of Hungary and Bohemia, in these and all the other Austrian States, including, Milan, Parma, Placentia, and the Netherlands. All these lands gave in their oath of adherence.

In spite of the triple right, however, which gave the States of Austria to Maria Theresa – the right of nature, the law of the Pragmatic sanction, and the sureties given by all the European states – several powers shortly afterwards rose to contest her heritage. The Elector of Bavaria laid claim to the succession, in virtue of a will of the Emperor Ferdinand the First, dated in the year 1543; Augustus of Poland, in virtue of the earlier rights of his wife, Maria Josepha, daughter of the Emperor Joseph, the elder brother of Charles the Sixth. The King of Spain, Philip the Fifth, went back as far as the rights of the wife of Philip the Second, a daughter of the Emperor Maximilian the Second, from whom he was descended in the female line. The King of Sardinia, Charles Emmanuel, laid claim to the duchy of Milan; and Louis the Fifteenth of France supported the Elector of Bavaria and the King of Spain. All Europe was quickly in flames upon the subject of the succession. Not only princes, but many private individuals, took an eager and active part in the quarrel. But the war, at last, broke out from an unexpected quarter. Frederic the Second of Prussia now laid claim to four duchies in Silesia, in spite of the renunciations of these lands frequently made by his predecessors in favour of the House of Austria, and suddenly, in December 1740, invaded the country, which, being almost entirely undefended, was soon completely overrun by the Prussian army. Maria Theresa, in spite of the alliance offered her by the King of Prussia against her other enemies, in case Silesia should be yielded up to him, stoutly and valiantly refused all compromise, declared herself noways disposed to dismember, in the least degree, the States left her by her father, and bade defiance to Frederic. Her enemies now took this opportunity to attack her. Bavaria declared war, and was supported by France, Spain, Savoy, and Saxony. In spite of the opposition of Cardinal Fleury, the French minister, who was favourable to the cause of the young Queen, Louis the Fifteenth placed under the command of Marshal Count de Belle-Isle, a large French army, which crossed the Rhine in August 1741; whilst the Chevalier de Belle-Isle was sent from court to court in Germany, to rouse the powers against Maria Theresa; and numerous spies and agents were dispatched, in every direction, to undermine the last support she might have to hope for from her few remaining allies. Linz quickly fell into the hands of the enemy, who approached upon Vienna. Utter ruin lay before the persecuted Queen, who was obliged to leave her capital, and seek refuge in Hungary. And under these circumstances it was, that she had convoked at Presburg the Diet of the four orders of the kingdom, the opening of which now caused the city to throng with crowds of Hungarians from all quarters of the country.

Among the mass of persons that thus swarmed in the main street of Presburg, like ants upon the chief passage to the anthill, in seeming confusion in which each individual atom has, nevertheless, its own purpose and design, was a young man, whose striking personal appearance continually attracted attention among those who crossed his path, and caused many a head to turn and gaze after him, even in that favoured land where beauty of the most romantic kind is common among all classes. He was a youth of scarcely more than twenty years, as might be seen by the fresh bloom upon his cheek, and the first down of dark moustaches which faintly painted his upper-lip. His figure was slim, but yet his carriage had all the bold ease of Hungarian youth; his features were regularly and beautifully fashioned, although not of that extreme symmetry which mars expression by its coldness; his dark-grey eyes, shaded by long black lashes, which bestowed on them an Oriental cast, wore a look of hardihood and languor combined, which spoke of a romantic temperament; and his dark-brown hair, unconcealed by the fashion of the times, streamed free and unfettered on to his neck and temples. He was attired in a sombre dress, which well became his figure and poetic look. His braided attila and pantaloons were of black cloth slightly relieved with velvet of the same colour upon the cuffs and collar; and a black velvet Hungarian cap, surmounted by a plume of black eaglet's feathers, sat boldly upon his head. The silver-mounted belt and chains of his sabre were the only ornaments that glittered on his dress.

Whatever the purpose of the seemingly capricious wanderings of the young man, as he thrust obstinately and somewhat rudely through the crowds which opposed his progress, he was not to be diverted from it by the objurgations of some of those whom he thus elbowed on his passage, or the commendatory remarks of others, who noticed his good mien. His eye roved perpetually to every window at which a female form appeared; and, upon the approach of each coach that passed, he pushed boldly forward, to obtain as near a view as possible of its fair inmates. But he evidently sought some one particular form, which he found not in his unwearying scrutiny; for, as often as some fresh female face had been narrowly examined, followed sometimes with a moment's doubt, and then abandoned, he gently shook his head, with knitted brow, and an expression of disappointment, and, falling back, uttered an impatient sigh.

At a short distance from the youth followed a tall old man, in the hussar dress of an Hungarian domestic, who, in turn, pushed sturdily after him, never losing him entirely from his sight, and utterly heedless of the exclamations of those thrust aside, who, however they might spare their angry comments to the handsome young noble, bestowed them with double wrath upon his rude attendant. The look of the old man was one of discontent, as he thus pursued the capricious movements of the youth; and he gave vent to a continued string of muttered rough Hungarian oaths, whilst he pushed on, and muttered such phrases as, "he is distraught – he is utterly distraught with this silly boyish fancy!"

At length, as the dusk of approaching evening began slowly to fall upon the streets, as the crowd gradually lessened, as no more carriages rumbled heavily along the causeway, and as no more faces appeared at the windows, the young man paused in his hurried walk, uttered a still deeper sigh of disappointment, and leaning himself wearily against a doorway, sank his head downwards, and seemed lost in painful meditation.

His old attendant approached him, and after a time, seeing that his presence was unnoticed, and that the gloomy reverie of the young man continued, he addressed him in a tone in which rude familiarity and respect were strangely combined —

"Is my lord's young blood so hot, then, that he seeks to cool it by taking up his night-quarters under this airy gateway?" But seeing that the young man heeded him not, he muttered an inpatient "Teremtette!" between his teeth, and then, plucking at his master's dress, he continued —

"Have you no orders to give me, Master Otmar?"

"None, Farkas. No, leave me!" was the only reply vouchsafed.

"Look you, Master Otmar," pursued his attendant – "You are observed here – you are an object of attention, perhaps of mockery, to the passers-by."