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E 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