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Countess Marie Larisch, Niece of the. Late Austrian
Empress Elizabeth, Tells the True Story of “The
Tragedy of Meyerling” in Which the Heir to the
Austrian Throne and the Beautiful Baroness Vetsera
Met Mysterious Deaths Together.
(*1 *HE Countesa Marie Larisch, niece of the
I murdered Empress Elizabeth of Aus-
* trla, has written an extraordinarily in
teresting volume entitled "My Past,” which
Is about to be published by G. P. Putnam's
Sons, of New York, to whom we are indebted
for advance sheets.
This story of court life from the inside has
all the grip of a great novel.
The Countess was the granddaughter of the
Empress’s brother, Duke Louis, of Bavaria,
through a morganatic marriage. In her early
youth she was a great favorite of the Empress,
who arranged her marriage with the wealthy
Count George Larisch.
She fell Into disgrace with the Empress and
woe banished from court after the terrible
tragedy which occurred at Meyerling, near
Vienna, on January 30, 1889. In this affair
the Empress’s only son the Crown Prince Ru
dolph, and his sweetheart, Baroness Mary
Vetsera. perished mysteriously. The Empress
credited Countess Larisch with having
brought the pair together.
Many versions of the tragedy have been
published in Europe. Some accounte say that
.ie Crown Prince killed his sweetheart and
himself, others that he was killed by an In
furiated relative of the girl, and still others
that her fiance committed the act. The mys
tery has never been cleared up.
The Countess Marie Larisch here gives her
version of the tragedy and the events that led
up to it. After explaining how the Crown
Prince and the Baroness made her an un
willing agent of their rendezvous, she brings
us to the tragedy. The Crown Prince induced
her to bring the Baroness to his private apart
ments in the Imperial Palaoe on the pretext
that he wished to break the liaison:
By the Countess Marie Larisch
(In Her New Book “My Past.” Copyright, 1913, by G. P. Putnam’* Sons.)
R UDOLPH led the way into a cheerful
apartment, which looked as if it were
"lived in,” for there was an abundance
of illustrated papers, plenty of books and flow
ers, and a grand piano, which was strewn with
new music. A pair of spectacles was lying on
the writing-table, and I wondered why Ste
phanie (the Crown Princess) had left her
glasses there, since she and Rudolph were not
popularly supposed to be on visiting terms.
’-‘Now,” said my cousin, in a most prosaic
tone, "I want to have this little interview alone
with Mary in the smoking room. Will you
permit this, Marie?”
I was powerless to interfere, and walked over
to the windows to see If I could discover in what
part of the Burg I was. To my surprise I saw
that the windows looked out over the Amulien-
Uof. and that immediately opposite me were the
Empress's apartments, which I knew so well.
1 could see the big clock, and I heard the rum
ble of the carriages which passed and repassed
through the courtyard below.
1 watched the busy scene for a little time,
then glanced-at the clock—the ten minutes had
already passed.
I went to the mirror and smoothed my hair,
which had been disarranged by the raven's sud-
'den swoop, and as I did so I heard the sound
of military music. It, was the hour for changing
the guard. The room was unpleasantly warm,
and 1 took off my jacket, but hardly had T done
so when my consin entered. He mas alone.
I stared at Rudolph In dismay, aud could only
stammer. “Where’s Mary?”
He smiled, but took no notice of my question,
aud then proceeded to lock all the doors in the
r "“Speak to me.” 1 cried; “for goodness sake
lell me «bat has happened. Rudolph, explain
was so terrified that 1 could hardly stan<L
The blood rushed to my head; I swnyed an
trembled, and the room swum before my eyes
The Crown Prince took my hand. Ihere is
nothing to explain,” ho said.
•Mary! Mary! where is she? Oh. do^ell
me what vou have done with her
11J "Calm yourself, Marie, and listen to me.
Now don’t interrupt. You wilt have to return
"'•nic'soumis of the gay music outside rose and
fell as we were speaking, and 1 never heat a
militarv baud without recalling that awful mo-
ent 1 turned sick with fear. “You are jok-
u* vo, don't know what you are saying; you
Janno" surely mean to tell me that you intend
t °“N < ever M mind h where I intend to keep Mary;
nil vou have to do is to go home at once.
His callous indifference infuriated me will
not go home without her. _
“You must. Mary is not in the Burg.
TUP shock almost paralyzed me. Then I came
I,, myself My cousin continued; Nothing
will happen if you will keep quiet. Go back to
TV,H ... o.t Mnrv lias 1I1U away.
vay.’
’ll go
Baroness and say that Mary has run awf
■Oil. you coward. Rudolph. I wont. # I
reel to the Empress.”
.. Y ,,u cannot pass through locked doors
/rushed to the window, tried to throw it open,
Thfprince^ violently put his hand over my
oath and dragged me back. “Do you want me
hurt you?” he asked with dreadful meaning
“Oh V vou C dishonorable man.” T panted, “you
e lost' to all shame. I won’t he silent, r will
p {he Empress, let me go * * * you must
* * vou shall." „
“Unless vou swear to be quiet Ill toll you.
ssed Rudolph. He released my wrists, which
. held iw I* a vise, and without another wow
, Queued a drawer in his writing table and
ok from it a little black revolver. He came
■Z"yon want me to shoot you?" He caught
e by the throat and pressed the weapon
roin^t my forehead.
«v e g shoot me,” I answered miserably. It
mild be a kind thing to do now that you have
lined my life.
The Crown Prince put down the revolver, and
oked at me. “At auy rate, you have some
Mirage.” he observed.
“I can be brave when I have to face devils
ke you,” I cried. “For you are nothing but a
Ydu brought me here under a solemn
•omise to deal with me in an honorable way;
m do not know the meantog of the word. Yes
repeat it, you do not know the meaning of
mor.” , ,
The Crown Prince glanced at me with mingled
•uelty and cynicism. “Since when, may I ask.
grie have vou been considered fi, to play the
lint’ You are a fine one to talk of honor or
yslty You have been the go-between for my
other since vou were a girl. And yet you dnr,>
. mention morality to me. when you have not
irupled to stand by aud see my father de-
dved.”
”Tt is a monstrous lie. I'll not listen—-you
shall not traduce your mother. I love her.”
Then I burst Into tears, and cried as if my
heart would break. Whereupon Rudolph said
very quietly.
“Marie, do you really love mamma? Well, if
you do, save her from the shame which a
scandal will cause her.”
To my great surprise, he led me over to the
couch and sat down beside me.
“(live me one last chance.” he pleaded.
“Well, X can but hear what you wish me
to do.”
"‘I want you to go hack to your fiacre, and
tell tlie man to drive you to some shop where
you are well known as a eustpmer. Once you
are inside send an assistant out to the fiacre
with a message from you to the Baroness Mary
Vetsera. Naturally, he will return, and say
the Baroness is not there. You will thus be
able to produce a witness to testify that you
thought she was.”
“But the coachman will know that I came
out, of the Burg alone.”
The Crown Prince opened a leather wallet and
took from it a roll of notes. “Here's five hun
dred florins,” he said; “give them to the coach
man with the message that I sent them, and
that if any trouble arises he must go to Brat-
fiscli, who will tell him what to do.”
“And I am to tell her mother that Mary ran
away when 1 was inside the shop?”
“Yes,” replied Rudolph, “it will serve for two
days, and then I shall see her myself.”
“You will not find her difficult to persuade.” I
saiu, and 1 repeated the conversation which f
had had with Madame Vetsera.
The Crowu Prince laughed. “What an ac.
eommodating mother Mary possesses,” lie ob
served. “Now, Marie, you must go * • •
Will you have some wine? * * * My poor
cousin, you look a complete wreck."
I refused the wine. I was still crying, but I
longed to be gone. I was in a dreadful state
of nervous exhaustion, and my faculties were
completely numbed; my one wish was to get
away.
Rudolph suddenly look my hand. “Don't let
us pjirt in anger, Marie,” he entreated. “Oh, if
you only knew how unhappy I am. * * *
Perhaps it will come all right * * * one
day. Promise me you will be true to your trust.”
'“I promise," f answered in a stifled voice.
The Crown Prince drew,, me 1o him, and took
me in his arms. Then he kissed me for the first
and last time.
• * •
(The Countess spent the day consoling the
Vetsera family and the next day went away
to her country seal. The morning afterward
she was astounded to learn from the papers
that the Crown Prince had died at Meyer
ling. She returned to Vienna and immedi
ately received a visit from the Empress's
physician, who told her that the Baroness
Vetsera was dead also.)
My eye met the calm gaze of my old friend
and physician, Dr. Wiederhofer. He pressed my
hand reassuringly. "Calm yourself, dear Coun
tess," he said, “for you must listen attentively to
what 1 have to say. I am sent here by the
Empress.”
"Does Aunt Cissi wish to see me?” I asked.
“No. she wishes you to answer a question.
.What do you know about this affair?”
“I know nothing. I’m nearly dead with
anxiety. For pity’s sake tell me something.
“You are certain that you are speaking the
truth.”
“I swear It.”
“Then, my poor friend • * * prepare your
self. * » • Mary is dead."
“Oh, my God!” I cried. “How did she die?”
“With the Crown Prince. Countess * * *
a little fortitude * * * you are shaking like
a leaf. * <’ * So—that's better. Yes, they
are both dead; and the Empress thinks It is
owing to you. I pity you, my poor child,’for
you are in a dreadful predicament,” said the
doctor, and his voice faltered as he spoke.
“But I am innocent,” I cried.
“Everything is known at the Burg,” he said
gravely. “The secret police hnve discovered
that you were in Rudolph's confidence, and that
you took Mary Vetsera to the Hofburg. The
man who drove you there has confessed all.
But. I beseech you, tell me w-hat the Empress
chiefly wishes to know. Wat the Crown Prince
perfectly liisrmal at your last Interview?"
I nerved myself to reply. “No, he was not.”
Then my pent-up misery burst forth. “You say
they know- all at the Burg. Do the Emperor
and Empress realize that I have been treated
shamefully? I have been the cat's paw in this
affair. I’ve been deceived throughout. * * *
I'll see the Empress. I won’t be condemned nn
justly.” My voice rose to a scream and died
away in convulsive sobbing.
Dr. Wiederhofer let me cry for some moments.
“Courage, courage, dear Counted; I am con
vinced that you have spoken the truth. I had
better tell you all that has happened. But it Is
a dreadful story.
"The Crown Prince wrote to Laxenburg, it
appears." said the doctor, "and told his wife he
was going for three days' shooting to Meyerling,
but that he would return for the family dinner
on January 30th. There was consequently no
Photograph of the Countess Larisch
(on the Left) with the Baroness
Vetsera (on the Right), Taken
Three Days Befpre the Latter’s
Death.
anxiety felt about his movements, and the
Prince left Vienna two hours after Mary Vet.
sera, who was driven to the shooting lodge hv
Bratflsch. The unhappy girl went In unnoticed
by the private entrance, and Loschek took her
to the little dressing-rom In the apartments
which tlie Crown Prince occupied. She re
mained that day and night alone with her
lover, and on the 29th some of Rudolph's friends
came for the shooting.”
“Was Philip of Coburg among them?”
"He was. Philip,” eontiuued Dr. Wiederhofer.
“knew that a woman was at Meyerling (It was
no rare event), because on such occasions Ru
dolph never sat long at dinner. The Crown
Prince, who pleaded a bad cold, did not go out
with the guns, and (hat evening he sat at table
with his throat muffled in a silk handkerchief.
"Supper was served to the Prince and Mary
in their apartments, and Loschek received in
structions to awaken his master at 7 o'clock
the next; morning.
"Downstairs .a drunken orgy prevailed, but
those two sinful souls spent their last night
undisturbed.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake be brief, I cannot bear
it!” f sobbed.
“You must hear everything.” replied mv
friend. “Loschek came to waken his master at
seven o'clock, and the Crown Prince told him to
return in half an hour. He did so. but as there
was no answer to his repeated knocking, he be
came alarmed and sent for Count Hoyos, who
was at breakfast.”
“And ,* * * what happened?”
“They broke open the door, and I hope they
may never see such a sight again. There was
blood everywhere. It stained the pillows, if
bespattered the walls, and It had flowed in a
sluggish stream from the bed to the floor, where
it had made a horrible pool. Rudolph lay on tils
side, his lmnd still holding the revelver. and
the top of his head was almost completely
shattered.”
“I cannot listen * * •”
“Countess * * * it'is imperative that you
should hear ail. The bed bulged a little and
Count Hoyos lifted the coverings. Mary Vet
sera lay under them—dead; she, too, had been
shot in the head.”
“Oh, Mary, Hary! Poor Mary!" I cried In
agony.
“Count Hoyos told Loschek to take the body
of the girl Into another room, and to lock all the
doors of the death chamber. The Count then
went: downstairs and informed the shooters that
the Crown Prince had been suddenly taken ill,
and that he must leave for Vienna at once to
acquaint the Emperor, and to bring a doctor
back to Meyerling. He despatched a telegram
to me. and I arrived at the Hofburg. almost at
the same time as he did.
“We saw the Empress first; she had just
finished her gymnastics. * * It was dread
ful to find her sa unprepared. I cannot tell you
how we broke the news to her. * * * ”
“Oh. my poor, poor aunt!"
“The Empress seemed like a woman suddenly
turned to stone. She shed no tears; all she said
was. ‘How can we tell the Emperor?’ ”
“I found strength to say. ‘You must tell him.
Yoflr Majesty—you alone can.’ The Empress
stared at me almost without comprehension.
Then she started, and shivered a little. 'Well,
let us go." she said.
“We walked with the Empress to the Emper
or's apartments, and waited outside. I do not
know what passed between the bereaved parents,
but when we were called in Franeis-Joseph sat
by the table with his face hidden In liis hands,
and the Empress stood beside him.
“1 received my order to go to Meyerling at
osce. Count Hoyos gave me the key of the
room oil my arrival.”
“What of the Empress?”
"When the Empress came back Madame Fe-
renzy told her that the Baroness Vetsera begged
for an audience. The Baroness insisted that
ilie Crown Prince had abducted her daughter
and implored the Empress to help her.
"Elizabeth hesitated, and then told Madame
Ferenzy that she would receive Madame Vetsera.
Tlie Empress stood in the middle of the antp-
room; her whole aspect was terrible in its un
natural calm, and the Baroness was brought
Into her presence. The two mothers looked at
each other in silence; then Madame Vetsera
fell on her knees with a despairing cry, ‘Mary—
my daughter ’
'Elizabeth shrank back from the pool-
woman's outstretched arms. She examined her
with pitiless curiosity, and then said coldly and
cruelly; ‘Cent trop turd. I Is soul marts tous les
deux.’
“Madame Vetsera fainted. The Empress
looked at her unmoved, and walked away with
out a word.”
I had listened to this terrible narration with
indescribable emotions. I knew that my fate
was sealed with regard to Aunt Cissi; she would
never listen to any explanations of mine. I
asked the doctor to continue his story, hardly
knowing whether I should have strength to lis
ten to it.
Wiederhofer went on to say that he bad gone
to Meyerling. and was taken immediately to tlie
apartments occupied by the Crown Prince. Herp
he found everything much ns Count Hoyos had
described. The remains of supiier were still
on the table in the little salon; there were
some empty champagne bottles, and one chair
had been overturned.
A decanter half full of brandy lay on the car
pet near the bed. and Wiederhofer ordered it to
be removed to prevent the Emperor from seeing
it. He then temporarily bandaged the shattered
Perished Mysteriously with the Baron
ess Vetsera at Meyerling.
The Favorite Photograph of the Baroness Vetsera. The German Words Be
low, Meaning “True Till Death,” Were Written on the Photograph She Gave to
Countess Larisch.
head and washed the face and neck of the
Crown Prince. With the aid of Loschek he cov
ered up the -bloodstained bed, and made the
body somewhat presenlable; all else was left un
touched to await (he arrival of the Emperor.
“And now,” said Loschek to Dr. Wiederhofer,
"now you must see the woman.” He preceded
(he doctor, and led the way down a corridor: he
opened a door, and Wiederhofer found himself
in a small room whicli was lit by a skylight. Tt
was very difficult af first to distinguish tlie va
rious objects around him. hut at last the doctor
saw a large linen basket. On tlie lop of tiiis whs
a hat trimmed with ostrich feathers, and the
floor was strewn with various articles of
woman’s clothing.
Wiederhofer was well accustomed lo horrible
sights in the exercise of hie profession, "but.”
lie said, “for the first time In my career I felt
faint, when Loschek threw aside tlie sheet whicli
covered the basket.
“There 1 saw the body. I told Loschek that
It was too dank for me to examine the
corpse where it was lying, so he carried it Into
the adjoining room and placed it on the billiard
table.
“Then I began my examination. I parted the
long hair away from the face, which was almost
completely hidden, and then .... Oh,
Countess! .... then I recognized Mary
Vetsera—tlie girl I hod known ever since she
was a child.”
The voice of the good doctor t rein bled with
emotion. “Poor child.” he said, “for she was
little more than a child!”
Mary was not so terribly disfigured as Ru-
ilolph; part of her face was badly wounded and
au eye had fallen out of Its socket, but the unin
jured side preserved all its beauty and her ex
pression was almot peaceful.
Professor Wiederhofer tore the lawn chemise
into strips for bandages; he then replaced the
eye and bandaged the head; he washed Mary’s
face, and after wrapping the poor dead girl in
a sheet h“ told Loschek to take her back to tlie
linen room.
The scene in the chamber of death after the '
Emperor arrived at Meyerling was agonizing.
Francis Joseph leaned against the wall and cried
as if his heart would break; then he listened to
all that there was to tell, and afterward re
turned to Vienna for the last home-coming of
the Crown Prince.
The uncles of the Baroness Vetsera were told
that the orders were that the corpse of the Bar
oness Mary was to be fully dressed and taken
to the carriage which was waiting. “And,” said
the policeman, “you are to support the body be
tween you in such a way as to make it appear
that tke Baroness still lives.”
Then began the dreadful task of dressing the
dead. Mary's hair was smoothed and pinned up
in one heavy twist, and the uncles, who loved
her tenderly, washed away the fresh stains on
the once beautiful face. Then a ghastly thing
occurred. Wlederhofer’s lawn bandage broke-.
. . . But much endurance was mercifully
given to the two gentlemen, and Count Stockau
bound up the wound with his black silk cravat.
Mary was dressed in her underlinen and cor-
sels; her silk stockings and dainty 1 loots were
put on, and then came the pretty gown she had
worn on that disastrous day at (he Hofburg.
Her lmt and veil wore next placed on her head,
and the body was set In a chair until her
uncles could nerve themselves to wrap her In
her sealskin coat.
It must liavo been nn awful experience for
those who assisted at this last toilette of Mary
Vetsera, for as her uncles were preparing to put
ou the coat her head drooped heavily on her
breast and she could not, of course, be taken out
like that.
The police officer at once thought of an ex
pedient. and lie slipped a Walking-stick down
the dead girl's back and bound her neck to the
stick with a handkerchief. Count Stockau ami
Alexandre Baltazzl then put on the fur coat
and lifted the corpse off the chair.
The two men supported their niece's body be-
tween them, and half carried if and half dragged
It out of the room, along the dimly lit corridor
and down tlie principal staircase to the waiting
carriage.
The dead gttl was placed on the back seat
aniL her uncles sat opposite. Count Stockau
toll,' ,T;e that occasionally the jolting threw Mary
almost upon them, and he said that her close
contact during this sinister journey was almost
more than they could bear.
It was a cold, windy night; from time to time
the face of the moon was hidden by the flying
clouds, and as the frost quite obscured the win
dows, it was impossible to see in what direction
they were proceeding. At last the carriage
stopped before a dark Iron-barred door, which
was immediately flung open, and two monks,
lanterns in hand, came forward.
There was no occasion now to force the corpse
Into that horrible mockery of life. The monks
lifted Mary from the carriage and placed her
upon a stretcher; then, with a gesture, they
invited the gentlemen to follow them.
The policeman shut the gates noiselessly, and
Count Stockau and his brother-in-law found
themselves inside a graveyard, where crosses
and monuments gleamed ghostlike from the
darkness as the sad cortege passed. This was
the burial-ground of the Cistercian Abbey of
Helligenkreuz, and here Mary Vetsera was to
find her last resting-place.
The monks entered a little building apparent
ly used for lumber, as It was littered with all
kinds of fragments of masonry, odd pieces of
wood and bricks. But a space had been cleared
where stood an open coffin of common white
wood.
There was no shroud In which to wrap the
dead, and the beautiful young body was some
what roughly placed inside the unlined burial-
chest. Poor Mary! What an awful ending to a
life which had seemed so full of promise! Ru
dolph lay honored In state, but his victim's only
requiem was sung by the mournful wind as It
sighed among the graves—better far to have
laid her uncoffined in the kindly earth than to
have pushed her Inside the rough box, which in
itself was an outrage on decency.
Count Stockau* doubled Mary’s hat into a
pillow and rested the sleeper’s bead upon it; he
then took off a grtld cross which she wore round
iier neck and placed the symbol of love and for
giveness between the stiff fingers.
Mary’s parentage, but it nver concerned the
Emperor or any princes of the imperial house.
These Illustrations are from ‘‘My Past,” by
Countess Marie Larisch. Copyright, 1913,
G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
The monks thereupon put the lid on the
coffin and carried It out.
Close to the wall was an open grave. The
body was consigned to it without a religious
service of any description, and the earth was
shovelled in upon the dead with almost feverish
haste.
Mary Vetsera, whose only crime was love, was
hurled like a dog. arid her uncles who knelt by
the grave were allowed to pray for only a few
seconds beside It, for the policeman tapped
them on the shoulder and told them they must
uot linger.
(The Countess tells a very romantic
story to the effect that Rudolph left a
steel box with her, to be delivered only to
a man who should give a certain signal.
She concludes that the box contained
papers showing that the Crown Prince and
her cousin. Archduke John, were engaged
in a conspiracy to put the Prince on the
throne of Hungary In the lifetime of his
father. The Countess has something to say
of the connection between this episode and
the tragedy In the following passage.)
The story which has found most credence
in circles which count is that Rudolph fell a
victim to Mary's uncle, who avenged his niece’s
dishonor. My narrative disproves this; the
last thing which the Baltazzis desired was any
kind of scandal, and the thought of murder
never entered their minds. The shattered con
dition of the Crown Prince's head gave rise to
the rumor that It was smashed in by the butt
end of a gun. but the unimpeachable testimony
of Dr. Wiederhofer, who saw the body and
dressed the wounds, proves this to he untrue.
What actually happened during the time that
Mary and Rudolph were alone at Meyerling is
entirely a matter for conjecture. There Is not
the slightest doubt that the Prince anticipated
a crisis of some sort, and It is unquestionable
that he and the Archduke John had planned a
coup d’etat together. Something transpired to
make Rudolph afraid of the consequences
should his plans be discovered, and rightly or
wrongly he miscalculated the extent of his
father’s displeasure. He may have felt that
flight oi•/ a return to Vienna was equally im
possible. and, rendered desperate through fear,
inflamed by brandy, he made up his mind to
kill himself. In my opinion the worst that
could have happened to the Crown Prince, had
1t. been discovered he was plotting for the
throne of Hungary, would have been incarcera
tion “owing to unsound mind.” Count Andras-
sy said plainly that something beyond a love
• drama was responsible for the tragedy; the
Archduke John corroborated this statement,
and the affair of the steel box makes me abso
lutely certain of it.
The world may well wonder why Rudolph,
the heir-apparent to the thrones of Austria and
Hungary, should have involved himself in the
schemes of men who were striving for the sep
aration of Hungary from Austria.
Was the Prince tired of waiting to be king,
and did some subtle brain assume that the
Emperor, when the crisis came, would shrink
from the horror of a conflict with his son, and.
that t.he independence of Hungary would be
achieved without the firing of a shot?
I cannot tell, and I doubt if the time wi“
ever come when Rudolph’s motives will be
revealed.
• • •
Far too much secrecy has hitherto been pre
served about the tragedy at Meyerling. and the
mystery arose becaus every one in authority
at first completely lost his head. The proper
course would have been to tSll the truth im
mediately about the death of the Crown Prince.
It would doubtless have been a ninety-nine
days’ wonder, but it would not have been ac
tively remembered. Rudolph never had a rep
utation for morality and little was expected of
him.
Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria, Who