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Elizaveta AustriyskaEmpress wife of the all-powerful Franz Joseph
Date of Birth: 24.12.1837
Country:  Austria |
Content:
Biography of Elisabeth of Austria
The Empress Wife of the All-Powerful Franz JosephShe feverishly traveled around the Old World, constantly moving from country to country. France, Belgium, Italy, Spain, Bavaria, Poland. The gray beauty, the empress, yearned and pondered, unable to find peace anywhere. And everywhere, a huge retinue of guards, servants, and doctors followed her. I know very little about this woman: snippets of newspaper and magazine articles that briefly described her horrible death, vague memories of the tragic fate of her son, the Austrian crown prince Rudolf, heard in childhood, and the words of Maurice Paleologue (or some other foreign ambassador!) that "at the end of the 19th century, there were two most beautiful women in the world and they were both named Elizabeth!" The first lived in Russia and was called Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna Romanova, who later became the abbess of Marfo-Mariinsky Convent, and the second was the Empress of Austria, the wife of the all-powerful Franz Joseph, who loved flowers, embroidery, serious books, music, and travel more than the luxury and splendor of the imperial court.. She was just over sixty years old when she died. To be precise, sixty-one. On that fateful day, September 10, 1898, Elisabeth of Austria, or as her close ones called her, Sisi, was heading from the Hotel Beau-Rivage to the Mont-Blanc waterfront to board the steamship "Geneva," which sailed on Lake Geneva.
The Tragic Assassination
At that moment, an unknown man rushed towards her from the crowd. Shouting, "Long live anarchy, death to society," he dealt a fatal blow to the empress's chest with a file. (According to other versions, it was a stiletto. - author.) At the trial, twenty-five-year-old Luigi Lucheni claimed that "everyone should work," and his mission was to destroy those who did not work. The killer, according to his confession, did not know who he was killing, but supposedly a single glance at the woman was enough for him to conclude: "She is aristocratic enough to deserve death..." He was immediately apprehended, tried amidst a large crowd, and sentenced to life imprisonment - by that time, the death penalty had been abolished in Geneva. He managed to write extensive memoirs as an anarchist in prison, but they did not shed any light on the complicated plot behind the murder that shook all of Europe! Luigi Lucheni was found hanged in his cell early in the morning on October 19, 1910. The police then ruled it a suicide, but a few years ago, experts questioned this conclusion. The monstrous act of the Italian man shocked contemporaries so much that after Lucheni's death, his brain was carefully examined. Unfortunately, specialists did not find anything unusual. Scientists from the Geneva Institute of Forensic Medicine preserved Lucheni's head in formalin. In 1986, it was sent to Vienna, where it remains to this day. In 1998, commemorating the centenary of the death of the Austrian monarch on the shores of Lake Geneva - Mont Blanc, with the installation of a bronze statue and exhibitions of photographs and personal belongings in museums in Austria and Geneva, the European panel of historians eagerly awaited the release of Lucheni's memoirs hidden in the archives. But did those expectations come true? I could not find any mentions of new materials, versions, traces of that distant September tragedy anywhere in the infinite expanse of the internet or in print. I will try to piece together the scattered mosaic fragments of the life of Elisabeth of Austria - Sisi, as she was called by her close ones and subjects, which somehow miraculously fell into my hands and survived, settling in my hands like golden dust. So: Elisabeth - Sisi grew up in a strange atmosphere: on one hand, total freedom, morning pony rides and walks in a carriage, playing croquet with her sister Sophie, playing the harpsichord, tending flower beds in the garden, where the little Duchess of Bavaria planted, depending on the season, crocuses, roses, hydrangeas, or chrysanthemums. On the other hand, her mother's authority, Duchess Maximiliana, was even more powerful than her husband Ludwig, the reigning lord of the ancestral estate. Possessing immense willpower and, at the same time, a hidden explosive temperament, Duchess Maximiliana established strict rules for the daily routine, studies, and perhaps even the entire life of her children. They dared not take a step without her knowledge and had to report everything they planned to do, think, and even breathe! Elisabeth's father, a bon vivant and drifter, had never done anything serious in his life, except, perhaps, diligently and almost virtuosically squandering the fortune accumulated by his ancestors, chasing after any aristocratic skirt, not letting a somewhat attractive maid pass by without noticing. Life seemed to him an uninterrupted series of vibrant festivities, and sometimes, after prolonged debauchery and persistent sitting at the card table until dawn, a long-awaited siesta. However, as the head of a family close to the court and a socialite, he was decently educated, knew how to entertain guests, and had a great fondness for musical gatherings, which his authoritative and vain wife, the Duchess, often organized, loving the bright and noisy society. Tatiana Romanenko, an American journalist who dedicated several years to studying the fates of women awarded the Russian Order of St. Catherine - there were 374 of them! - writes the following about Elisabeth of Austria: "Elisabeth belonged to the notorious Bavarian reigning house, which was known for its physical and mental infirmities. Many of them could not bear the burden of power and family relationships. According to contemporaries, after the wedding ceremony, the 15-year-old empress suffered from a severe nervous breakdown for three days. In the first years of her marriage, Elisabeth gave birth to four children, which further undermined her unstable nervous system." All of this is true, but the key to her instability, fragile nervous system, and hence, depression, tendency towards seclusion and introversion, is perhaps to be found in her childhood, in the overwhelming principle that strict and unapproachable mother represented for children. And also in the fact that they had to behave differently with each of their parents. Dual nature has always been difficult for children. Hence, Sisi's constant restlessness, her constant desire to be unnoticed, to hide, to indulge in quiet activities such as drawing, embroidery, and gardening. All of this was hardly compatible with the grandiose title of Empress of Austria-Hungary: her daily outings, evening balls, parades, and receptions! After the birth of her fourth child, Sisi, who had experienced all the hardships of the imperial "luxury" life, began to carefully avoid her marital duties, excusing herself with tiredness, busyness, resorting to a thousand innocent but irritating female tricks! Emperor Franz Joseph, being more than ten years older than his wife, did not understand these "escapades." He would grumble, roll his eyes, smash porcelain trinkets on the mantelpiece, but he did not let these interfere with his wife's frequent travels and hobbies in music, flowers, and books, more than the luxury and splendor of the imperial court. They said that Sisi had lovers, high society dandies, but it would be really surprising, given her beauty and high position in society, if there were none: it was impossible! This Lady always stood too high on the steps of the social ladder for any frivolous courtier to dare to approach her without risking losing their head and career in an instant! She always seemed to be surrounded by blinding emptiness. And if it was filled by someone, for a brief moment, no one could find out about it! (Among the happiest admirers, they mentioned Count Gyula Andrássy, who taught the Empress and her eight-year-old son Hungarian, but all of this is mere speculation! - author.) The death of her only son and heir to the throne became the most severe trial for Sisi - as she was affectionately called by her family and loved ones. This happened on January 30, 1889. Tatiana Romanenko, in her brief sketch of the fate of the Austrian "homeless" empress, writes: "Elizabeth belonged to the notorious Bavarian reigning house, which was known for its physical and mental infirmities. Many of them could not bear the burden of power and family relationships. According to contemporaries, after the wedding ceremony, the 15-year-old empress suffered from a severe nervous breakdown for three days. In the first years of her marriage, Elisabeth gave birth to four children, which further undermined her unstable nervous system." All of this is true, but the key to her instability, fragile nervous system, and hence, depression, tendency towards seclusion and introversion, is perhaps to be found in her childhood, in the overwhelming principle that strict and unapproachable mother represented for children. And also in the fact that they had to behave differently with each of their parents. Dual nature has always been difficult for children. Hence, Sisi's constant restlessness, her constant desire to be unnoticed, to hide, to indulge in quiet activities such as drawing, embroidery, and gardening. All of this was hardly compatible with the grandiose title of Empress of Austria-Hungary: her daily outings, evening balls, parades, and receptions! After the birth of her fourth child, Sisi, who had experienced all the hardships of the imperial "luxury" life, began to carefully avoid her marital duties, excusing herself with tiredness, busyness, resorting to a thousand innocent but irritating female tricks! Emperor Franz Joseph, being more than ten years older than his wife, did not understand these "escapades." He would grumble, roll his eyes, smash porcelain trinkets on the mantelpiece, but he did not let these interfere with his wife's frequent travels and hobbies in music, flowers, and books, more than the luxury and splendor of the imperial court. They said that Sisi had lovers, high society dandies, but it would be really surprising, given her beauty and high position in society, if there were none: it was impossible! This Lady always stood too high on the steps of the social ladder for any frivolous courtier to dare to approach her without risking losing their head and career in an instant! She always seemed to be surrounded by blinding emptiness. And if it was filled by someone, for a brief moment, no one could find out about it! (Among the happiest admirers, they mentioned Count Gyula Andrássy, who taught the Empress and her eight-year-old son Hungarian, but all of this is mere speculation! - author.) The death of her only son and heir to the throne became the most severe trial for Sisi - as she was affectionately called by her family and loved ones. This happened on January 30, 1889. Tatiana Romanenko, in her brief sketch of the fate of the Austrian "homeless" empress, writes: "The eldest son of Elisabeth, Rudolf, married to the Belgian princess Stephanie, loved another woman. But since his marriage was purely political, he was never able to obtain permission for a divorce and therefore shot his lover and himself. A real abyss opened up before Elisabeth: she never loved her son, never took part in his upbringing, but blamed herself and the bad Bavarian blood for everything that happened!" It is difficult to talk about this tragedy, the tragedy of fatal loneliness in the Austrian royal family in general. This requires more time and attention than the author can afford in a brief sketch, more careful study of documents. However, I dare to argue with Tatiana Romanenko, using the few facts that I know. Elisabeth, who gave Emperor Franz Joseph his only son and four daughters, due to various circumstances, and above all, the spirit of imperial protocol, the so-called "regal customs," could not devote too much attention to her children. She tried, as a mother, to always give the warmth of her heart to her younger daughters, who needed constant female care. This was quite understandable and justified. Crown Prince Rudolph, on the other hand, was raised strictly and spartanly, preparing to be a future warrior. Governors and carefully selected mentors were responsible for his daily routine. His father took him on hunts and military reviews; from childhood, he was proficient with a saber and skilled in horseback riding. For the busy social ceremonies of his mother, daily journals - diaries were written, which she diligently reviewed. If she couldn't visit her son in the mornings, she wrote him letters in response. They saw each other at lunch or children's dinner, on walks and at the theater. From childhood, Rudi was accustomed to the fact that his parents were deprived of the opportunity to spend time in torturous boredom and idleness. As eyewitnesses recall, he himself was an extremely disciplined person and could not stand two things throughout his life: yawning from boredom and being late anywhere! By the way, he wrote about himself in his own newspaper under a fictional name: "A scholarly ornithologist, possessing the inquisitive mind of a researcher, a caring natural scientist, an important figure in world politics, a supporter of European liberalism, a Mason of the new enlightened era, aspiring to expand his possessions to natural, scientifically-based borders - all the way to Thessaloniki." These are important details to the portrait of the heir to the throne, and it is likely that his love for natural sciences was inherited from his mother, who was passionately interested in botany from childhood. Since the upbringing of many royal offspring in those days followed similar patterns, and such "aristocratic distance" between parents could not be the cause of Elizabeth's subsequent mental torment. She fulfilled her duty as a mother quite well. The crown prince was undoubtedly close to his mother, if in his youth he could afford to discuss personal, heartfelt problems with her, study the Hungarian language together, and analyze historical documents from the imperial archives! In the end, she was the first to inform her of her son's death and, as best she could, overcome the spasms of tears, she prepared the emperor - father for this terrible news. With Rudolf's death and the circumstances that preceded it, there was so much mysterious and illogical that it rather led the insightful Sisi to thoughts of murder, perhaps for political motives. But she wisely and tragically remained silent, truly resembling a petrified statue of the Virgin Mary with a dagger in her heart, which was installed at the site of Prince Rudolf's death, by order of the emperor.* (*This statue had the face and stature of the empress - author.) The Mayerling hunting lodge - the scene of the tragedy - was given to a poor Carmelite monastery, and all traces of the crime were destroyed - they even managed to wash the blood from the low vaulted ceiling! The archives were sealed, and memoirs written by eyewitnesses surviving many years later contained only small crumbs of the truth! After the death of the Austrian-Hungarian crown prince, the country entered a period of complete "censorship freedom"! For example, Emperor Franz Joseph prohibited mentioning the name of Rudolf's lover, the seventeen-year-old Countess Baroness Maria Vetsera, the favorite of Vienna's high society, in the press. Her family was hastily expelled from the country, and the favorite niece of Elizabeth, Countess Marie Larisch-Wallersee, who was involved in Rudolf's secret affairs and initially arranged his passionate (at first!) rendezvous with Maria Vetsera, was also sent into exile in France! So, Elisabeth carried the secret of her son's death and her guilt, if there was any, in her heart alone, not disclosing it, and from this unbearable burden, she seemed even stranger, more unpredictable, and "self-absorbed" to those around her. From the moment of her son's funeral on February 5, 1889, in the family crypt of the Habsburgs in Vienna, Elisabeth began her mournful wanderings throughout Europe! She feverishly traveled around the Old World, constantly moving from country to country. France, Belgium, Italy, Spain, Bavaria, Poland. The gray beauty, the empress, yearned and pondered, unable to find peace anywhere. And everywhere, a huge retinue of guards, servants, and doctors followed her. This is what her formidable emperor and ruler commanded, emerging from himself at any trivial pretext, but loving his wife immeasurably! She became increasingly withdrawn, no longer wearing bright clothes. The only person she remained spiritually close to during this difficult period was her cousin, Ludwig II, the King of Bavaria. She visited him often and stayed for a long time; they read and made music together, studied notes, and sometimes simply kept silent, spending evenings in front of the burning fireplace in the huge living room. During her visits, Ludwig became softer, calmer; he was not tormented by sadness when his beloved sister was there. By the way, Ludwig's fate was also tragic: he was firmly believed to be insane. In his magnificent palaces, where the wall paintings could serve as excellent decorations for Wagner operas, he preferred to live in complete solitude. Sometimes, no one saw him for weeks, not even the servants! Evil tongues spoke nonsense that the relationship between the king, his brother, and the empress was more than platonic, but this could not be true, if only because Ludwig simply hated women. Unable to overcome himself, he even broke off his engagement with his own sister, Sophie. When he was finally removed from the throne, he found peace in one of the lakes in the palace's park. On the second day after his suicide, the brother "visited" Elisabeth. It is claimed that at that moment, the empress's bedroom was filled with a mysterious fragrance of violets. The conversation between Ludwig and Elisabeth lasted for a while, but what was said remains a mystery. The Mayerling hunting lodge is now a convent, and the crypt where Rudolf and Mary Vetsera were initially buried has been sealed off. The rest of the Habsburg family is buried in the crypt, and in 1959, the coffins of Rudolf and Mary were moved to the royal crypt in Vienna. Elisabeth's mournful wanderings continued until the end of her life. She visited many countries in Europe and even traveled to the Far East, seeking solace and peace, but it eluded her. She became more and more reclusive, spending hours alone, writing poetry, and engaging in introspection. In her final years, she was often seen wearing black, mourning her son's death. On September 10, 1898, while in Geneva, she was assassinated by an anarchist. Her death left a void in the hearts of many, and her legacy as a tragic figure continues to captivate people's imaginations to this day.
