One Night in the Vienna Woods

By Susan Appleyard

Born to privilege, Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria was given an extensive, liberal education, which he strove to us to bring the Habsburg Empire into the modern world. His was a struggle against his father Emperor Franz Josef, the conservative court, and the reactionaries in the government, including the Emperor himself and against his own class, to support minorities, improve the lot of the common man, and curtail the rights of the aristocracy. His mother, the beautiful but melancholic Empress Sisi had her own struggle against the same opposition. Rudolf becomes convinced his country is heading toward a catastrophe that he can do nothing to prevent. With his ideals shattered, he meets Baroness Mary Vetsera and begins an affair that ends in the tragedy at Mayerling.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Appleyard
• Release date: May 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005111793

Susan Appleyard

Some of Susan Appleyard’s books have won Brag Medallions, been finalists in the MM Bennetts Award and the Wishing Shelf Award, and The Coffee Pot Book Club’s Gold Medal for Historical Fiction.Mother of three and grandmother of six, Susan lives in a snowy part of Canada but is fortunate to be able to spend part of each year in Mexico. No prizes for guessing which part.Before learning how to self-publish, Susan signed a three-book contract with a traditional publishing house in Toronto, which sold out to another company after publishing two of her books. Now, thanks to Amazon and others, she has published ten Ebooks and is working on a story set before, during and after the Russian Revolution.

Book preview

Schönbrunn Palace – 1864-5

Wake up, Little Flower.

Torn from an uneasy sleep, his heart hammering, the boy’s terrified eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the parade ground voice. The room was in darkness. Beside his bed loomed a pale blur, like a full moon seen through mist. He clenched his muscles and tried to stop it, but he couldn’t help himself. A stream of wetness gushed between his thighs.

Get up, lazy boy. Get up, I say. Quickly now. I have something to show you.

The covers were snatched off. As the boy sat, he found his shoes positioned to slip his feet into and his dressing gown draped across his lap. The Stygian darkness of the room and his tired eyes told him he should still be sleeping. He didn’t know why he had been awakened at such a time. His heart still hammered as he struggled into his dressing gown.

He was Rudolf Franz Karl Josef of Habsburg-Lorraine, Crown Prince of Austria and Hungary, Archduke and Prince of Austria, Hungary and Bohemia, and so many titles he could not remember them all. They encompassed forty million people, a dozen languages, and several religions. But he was only a small frightened boy.

Outside, the cold air of night enfolded him. The light of a pale, gibbous moon revealed the immaculately kept parterre gardens, the paths between, and the Neptune fountain beyond at the foot of Schönbrunn Hill. Below the canopy of stars, the palace windows were dark.

Where are we going? he asked as they turned to walk along the front of the palace.

A surprise.

He knew it wouldn’t be good.

After his sixth birthday, Baroness von Weldon, his governess, told him he would have his own household. She said it meant he was grown up enough to occupy his own set of rooms, with servants and staff. At first, he thought it sounded interesting, but the Baroness failed to tell him it also meant he would part from Gisela for the first time.

Even then, he vaguely understood that he was more important than Gisela because he was a boy and the heir, while Gisela was a girl and could never be the heir, although she was two years older. He seldom felt important. Even the nursemaids told him what to do. He didn’t have to obey them, of course, but if he didn’t, the Baroness would come and let him know in her gentle voice that he had disappointed her. There was always the dread that inappropriate behaviour would go up the chain of authority to his grandmother and then to his father.

Once, they’d had an older sister, but she died before Rudolf’s birth, and Gisela couldn’t remember her. It had always been just the two of them in the nursery, and Gisela was a motherly sort of older sister. She welcomed him to her bed when he had a nightmare and held his hand when they went to church. She walked beside him the first time he got on a pony, encouraging and cheering him, ‘Well done, Rudi,’ when he didn’t fall off. They had picnics together and played games, sometimes with the Baroness joining them.

There was to be no more fun for Rudolf, no more childish games, no more Gisela. They would still see each other at some official functions and during the two weeks when the family took its annual holiday at Bad Ischl, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her every day. The wrench was painful. He often cried himself to sleep – quietly so that no one would hear.

On that first day in his new rooms, he met Major-General Gondrecourt, who greeted him with a bow and a smile that Rudolf characterized as sinister. Above the smile was a huge moustache that extended well beyond the heavy, red-veined cheeks and curled at the ends. He imagined himself, one day when he was older, taking one of those curls between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a tug.

Gondrecourt examined Rudolf from top to toe, and the smile waned. You are like a little flower, so delicate and droopy. That is what I will call you – Little Imperial Flower. It is my duty to turn you into a proper Habsburg prince. From today, I will equip you with all the learning necessary to become a ruler in the model of our august Emperor. You will also learn the military skills necessary to defend our Fatherland against foreign aggressors. The Emperor’s instructions to me are to toughen you up. I will divest you of weakness, and replace it with strength, endurance, and resolve. You will learn that duty comes before all. Your regimen will be similar to that followed by the Emperor himself as a boy, which made His Imperial Majesty the great statesman and soldier he is today. Any questions?

Rudolf was silent, staring at the floor. He understood that his father was the example he was expected to live up to. That was a terrifying prospect. He felt sure he would fail.

Your day will begin at five a.m. and end at eight p.m. when you will have an hour of recreation suitable for your age and rank before bedtime.

He slept alone in his bedroom, on the second floor of the Hofburg in the heart of Vienna, and hoped he wouldn’t have any nightmares.

A knock on the door awoke him, and he looked around the dark room, disoriented. After a second knock, a servant entered to turn up the lamp, followed by his valet. He remembered he now had a valet who would decide how he must dress, depending on what his schedule required. Yes, he had a schedule, although he hadn’t studied it, and so did not know what was in store for him.

Good morning, Your Imperial Highness, the valet said and hung a military uniform on a metal frame. Rudolf couldn’t remember the man’s name.

More servants came in, with another lamp, hot water and a towel. Then his valet helped him into his clothes, something he had been able to do for himself for some time, but now, apparently, could not.

Gondrecourt was waiting for him in his salon, smoking a cigar. Rudolf hated the smell and wondered if it would be all right to ask for the windows to be opened, but he did not dare. He was not sure what his level of authority was in his household.

The governor, in full military uniform, complete with medals, ribbons and gold braid, inspected him from head to foot, finding his tunic speck-free, the piping on his trousers straight, his buttons gleaming, his white gloves spotless. Outside in the cold autumnal air, Rudolf shivered in his thin shirt and tunic. An equerry handed him a wooden facsimile of a rifle, smooth and polished to avoid any random splinter penetrating imperial flesh.

March, shouted Gondrecourt.

Where to, sir?

The governor appeared to think the question was impertinent. Three broad chevrons appeared on his brow.

For an hour, Rudolf marched around the Inner Castle Square, trying with little success to keep in step with the equerry who carried a torch and shouldered a real rifle while Gondrecourt puffed on his cigar and occasionally shouted out instructions. He wasn’t cold for very long.

Walls perforated by many windows surrounded the square on all four sides. Gisela would still be curled in her bed. At seven o’clock, she would sit up and stretch in that way she had, making a bow of her back and with her bony elbows sticking out from behind her head like wings. Perhaps she would look over at his empty bed, or maybe they had already removed it.

It was still full dark when Gondrecourt called a halt and allowed him to go inside. The room smelled of stale cigar smoke. After a change of clothes, he ate a breakfast of eggs and toast with a cup of milk.

Gondrecourt returned at ten minutes to seven and took a half-eaten slice of toast from Rudolf’s hand. Everything was whisked away and Rudolf was ushered to his desk where several copy books and writing implements awaited him.

At precisely seven o’clock, the first of the many tutors arrived. He was allowed a half-hour break for lunch, which was often shared by the governor, who wanted to know what he had learned. He spent two hours of the afternoon on languages. Rudolf enjoyed the languages and quickly picked them up. The subjects he hated most of all were the ones after dinner, which the governor himself taught, military history and strategy. Gondrecourt devoted a full two hours to these subjects, and Rudolf could hardly stay awake. If his head sank for a moment, his fingers were rapped by a ruler.

The first incident happened when he was sleeping as deeply as only the exhausted could. A loud bang jerked him upright as if pulled by strings, his heart beating wildly. In the dim light of a low burning lamp, he saw Gondrecourt with a smoking gun pointed at the ceiling. Bits of plaster fell on the floor.

Ha-ha-ha, the governor chortled. Did I startle you? A soldier must be ready for anything.

The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the room as he went out, still chuckling. Rudolf sank back on his pillow, staring at the two holes in the ceiling. A long time passed before he could calm his pounding heart and go back to sleep.

That was the first time he wet the bed. It wouldn’t be the last.

Rudolf lived in fear of Gondrecourt. He was sure that the ‘surprise’ would be another test of his ‘manliness’. They were making for the Tiergarten, the place where the creatures presented to the emperors as gifts over the years were kept.

A playful wind opened the front of his dressing gown and sneaked inside. It pushed his nightshirt against his thighs and raised goosebumps on his calves. He shivered as Gondrecourt produced a key and inserted it into the lock on the iron-barred gate. The gate swung soundlessly open, and Gondrecourt gestured Rudolf to enter. The gate clanged shut. Trees towered above him, waving their topmost branches, making a sound like breathing. Moon glow brushed their tips with silver.

Why are we here? He turned to find Gondrecourt standing on the other side of the gate. What are you doing? Fear made his voice squeak.

You will spend the rest of the night here. It will make a man of you.

Rudolf grabbed the bars and pulled, but Gondrecourt was holding the gate shut. It’s cold, and I’m not dressed properly and… I’m frightened.

Oh, don’t worry about the cold. What you have to worry about is the wild boar. It is loose tonight. It will come and gore you and tear you to pieces. The wind rustled the trees. There, can you hear it? It’s coming.

The hairs on the back of Rudolf’s neck rose. He flattened himself against the bars, staring into the dark, where the treetops whispered in the wind, and the gibbous moon made writhing shadows below.

Can you see it yet? the sinister voice whispered behind him. It has little red eyes like a demon from hell and two long tusks sharper than my sword, which it uses to tear human...

Rudolf screamed, high, piercing screams over and over, hurting his throat, drowning out the voice tormenting him. Gondrecourt told him to be quiet, to be a man, but he couldn’t stop. Even when Gondrecourt opened the gate and pulled him out, he continued to scream. The governor shook him and shook him until he finally stopped. He was trembling violently with the force of his terror.

With a grip on his shoulder, the governor marched the sobbing boy back to the palace.

Chapter 2 – Gondrecourt must go

July 1865 – The Kaiservilla, Bad Ischl

Empress Elisabeth was with her Hungarian teacher but instead of focusing on translating, her mind kept forming the words she wanted to say to her husband. The Emperor was shooting in the Salzkammergut Mountains and Elisabeth waited impatiently for the opportunity to speak to him. When one of her ladies told her the party had returned, she dismissed her tutor and sat at her dressing table to check her appearance. Her dark brown hair tumbled to her ankles when loose. Every morning, it was brushed and braided and coiled into styles that were the envy of other court ladies. Her amber eyes had a melancholy cast and yet the curve of her mouth hinted at secrets. She reflected that the hours she spent on her beauty regime and the maintenance of her twenty-inch waist were well spent because beauty was the only power she had.

She gave the Emperor no more than half an hour after his return to change his clothes before going to see him.

Like the gentlemen with him, Franz Josef still wore his hunting clothes. He came forward at once, his hands extended to take hers. Forgive me. I wasn’t expecting you or I would have changed. He nodded at his companions. With a bow to the Empress, they departed. When the door closed behind them, she fixed her beautiful eyes on her husband.

Did you have good sport?

Two ibexes. One old, one young. Ludwig Victor shot the young one, damn him.

Elisabeth wasted no more words. I spoke with Rudolf this morning. He told me some things that shocked me. I am very displeased with Gondrecourt, Franz.

Why? What has he done?

Have you seen our son? Have you seen what that man has done to him?

Franz refilled his brandy glass and held the decanter toward her. Elisabeth noted it was half empty. Care for a drink?

Thank you, no.

My dear, these methods are used in the army on young cadets. Time and trial have proved them effective. It is not Gondrecourt’s methods that are at fault but Rudolf’s delicate constitution. Incidentally, I have heard no complaints from him.

That is because he wants so desperately to please you.

I began my military training at the same age, and it did me no harm. The methods used on me weren’t quite so harsh because I didn’t need toughening up. To you, Gondrecourt’s approach may seem extreme, but it is necessary to make a man of Rudolf. We mustn’t coddle him.

He is not you. He is sensitive and timid, and his education ought not to include the kind of cruelty Gondrecourt is inflicting on him.

He is only obeying my orders. These are the years when character is forged. Rudolf is prone to tears and illness. He needs toughening up.

This is also the time when a child’s delicate spirit, which you call weakness, can be broken. Elisabeth’s anger level rose a notch higher. Was it your order that he be drilled every morning in all weathers? Was it your order that Gondrecourt should go to his room in the middle of the night and shoot off his gun? Was it your order that Rudolf should be shut in the Tiergarten and told that a wild boar was loose? Your orders, Franz, will kill him!

Franz had the grace to look away when she mentioned the boar incident as if he hadn’t known about that, but he said only, Come now, you exaggerate.

Oh, do I? Take a good look at him. Look how thin he is. His eyes are ringed with shadows. He’s nervous. He starts at every loud noise, and he’s often ill.

What he is, as you have just said, is timid and sensitive. These are not desirable attributes in an emperor. Surely you can see that Austria needs a sturdy, bold heir.

What you and Gondrecourt are doing is breaking his spirit and destroying his health. I won’t have it, Franz. We have lost one child. I don’t intend to lose another. Her gaze went to the bracelet on her wrist, which contained a miniature portrait of their lost firstborn. She was glad she had decided to wear it today. And I wasn’t there to comfort my poor child.

Sisi… Franz put down his brandy glass and put his hands on her shoulders. Why don’t we plan a hike into the mountains tomorrow? Just you and I. We haven’t done that for such a long time.

Will you think about what I have said?

Of course.

She tipped her head to one side, studying him. His hair was thinning on top. As if in compensation, his moustache and side whiskers were lush. He still had the trim figure of his youth despite so many hours at his desk. She didn’t believe her words would have any effect on him.

I must go.

Although she had an apartment in the main building, she had her own little house on the grounds, built in the English Elizabethan style, a concession to her need for seclusion. Returning to her house, she sat at her writing desk, took a piece of paper and a pen and tipped the lid of the ink pot back.

Can I get Your Majesty anything? Ida asked. Outside of her family, Ida was her only friend and confidante. She was a petite girl from the steppes of Hungary. Through her, the Empress had begun to take an interest in Hungarian politics.

Send someone to the Zauner pastry shop for some of those cream cakes I adore. I feel like bingeing.

The pen hovered as she recalled the opening of the Ringstrasse, a tree lined boulevard that encircled Vienna’s inner city. It was Franz Josef’s ambitious effort to bring the Habsburg world into the future. Rudolf was ill that day, but it was not an occasion that the Emperor and Empress could miss. She stayed for the ribbon-cutting ceremony but when Franz prepared to get into the imperial coach, she had herself driven to Schӧnbrunn.

Unlike Gisela, it was not unusual for Rudolf to be ill. Particularly in the past year, he had often suffered fevers, stomach colds and angina. Whenever he was sick, she was reminded again of the death of little Sophie and how much harder the blow had been because they were not expecting it. She rushed to his bedside, fearful that he too would die.

A man sitting beside his bed she recognized as Colonel Josef Latour von Thurnburg, one of Count Gondrecourt’s subordinates. He was one of the gentlemen who had accompanied her on a recent trip to Madeira so she knew him. He moved away when she arrived but didn’t leave the room.

Poor little boy. It tore her heart to see him, so thin and delicate, flushed with fever, but he smiled when he saw her. Beside his bed was a bowl of cool water and a cloth. She wrung out the cloth and held it to his brow.

Mama, I don’t feel good, he murmured.

You will be better in a little while, my darling. She held his frail body and bathed his face until he fell asleep.

As she was about to leave the room, Latour said, May I have a word, Your Imperial Majesty.

Latour told her about the drills in freezing weather and the gunshots in Rudolf’s bedroom. The revelation came as a shock to her. She knew Gondrecourt drilled Rudolf to excess but she had not known about his cruelty. When the Emperor returned after the festivities, she spoke to him about her concerns, but he was quite sure he was doing the right thing. When Rudolf reluctantly confirmed all that Latour told her, she was furious that Franz had let Gondrecourt go so far. But the trip to the Tiergarten was too much. She was resolved to change things.

After her interview with Franz that day, she suspected he would do nothing. Perhaps he would suggest to Gondrecourt no more post-midnight visits to the Tiergarten, but she would not be satisfied with that.

Her pen dropped to the paper, and she began to write furiously.

I wish to have reserved to me absolute authority in matters concerning the children, the choice of the people around them, the place of their residence, the complete supervision of their education, in a word, everything is to be left entirely to me to decide, until the moment of their majority. Having gone so far, she decided it was time to assert her independence. I further wish that whatever concerns my personal affairs, such as, among others, the choice of the people around me, the place of my residence, all arrangements in the house, etc., be reserved to me alone to decide.

She gave the note to Ida to deliver and waited. Within minutes Franz burst into her room, the message in his hand.

I cannot believe you mean this, Elisabeth. You want the care of the Crown Prince? You want to choose his tutors, his household? I never heard of such a thing.

She knew he was angry by his use of her given name, but she was in no mood to mollify him. Rising from her seat, she faced him. And why not? You were perfectly content to put him into the care of your mother.

Mother approves of Gondrecourt.

Does she know what he does to Rudolf? I doubt it. He is a pale and sickly shell of the exuberant little boy he was a year ago. He wets the bed. Do you know that? I won’t be pushed aside any longer, Franz. I demand to be allowed to exercise my rights as his mother. Either Gondrecourt goes, or I go.

Sisi… His hands went out to her, imploring.

I mean it, Franz. If you do not dismiss him today, I shall leave again tomorrow.

Franz collapsed into a chair and looked at her as if he had never seen her before. I… I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you again. I can deny you nothing. He rubbed a hand over his facial hair. Very well. You shall have your way in this.

Elisabeth’s heart soared with triumph. Thank you, my dear, dear little man. Thank you for understanding how much it means to me to be an important part of my children’s lives. Taking his face between her hands, she drew it down for a kiss, a sweet promise of things to come.

When he had gone, she sat at her dressing table and gazed at her reflection, a small smile curving her lips. He had not denied her demand for independence. She had won a significant victory.

Please, make yourself comfortable, Colonel Latour.

Elisabeth indicated the chair set beside hers. The Colonel tucked his cap under his arm and sat very gingerly on the edge of the seat, stiff and ill-at-ease. Elisabeth wondered if he thought he was about to get a dressing down for some misdeed. She knew from the time spent with him on Madeira that his political leanings were liberal, and because of this, he was despised at court and the object of many petty intrigues. Which recommended him to her.

She had enquired about the Colonel’s role in Rudolf’s household and learned of repeated instances that bordered on insubordination. It also became clear that he was devoted to Rudolf and looked out for him when he could.

Rudolf himself was the final arbiter. His little face lit up like a candle when she asked him if he would like to have Colonel Latour for his governor instead of Count Gondrecourt.

Colonel Latour, it is not yet public knowledge, but Count Gondrecourt has been dismissed from his post as head of the Crown Prince’s household. There was no mistaking the sweep of relief on the Colonel’s face. With the Emperor’s approval, I wish you to take up the post.

Latour’s surprise was unfeigned. He floundered a little before finding words. But, Your Imperial Majesty, I am a mere colonel. I’m not even noble. I am most unfitting for such a high honour.

Do you love the Crown Prince?

His face was suddenly suffused with tenderness. I do. His suffering, and his bravery in suffering, have touched my heart.

And will you do all you can to restore him to good health?

I will always have His Imperial Highness’s best interests at heart.

Those are the qualifications I expect in the prince’s governor. I need hardly add that I want military drills reduced to the most basic exercises. He must, of course, learn to ride well and to shoot. But the emphasis must be on education. She paused before adding, Liberal education. You will choose tutors to replace the present ones, not many of whom are to my liking. You need not look solely among aristocrats, military men and the clergy. The only criteria should be scholarly qualifications.

Is Your Imperial Majesty suggesting that I may seek among the bourgeois?

My dear Colonel, I insist upon it. Where else will you find the best liberal minds?

Your Imperial Majesty has quite taken my breath away.

I suggest you get it back quickly, Elisabeth said with a smile. You have a lot of work to do.

Thank you. It will be an honour to serve the Crown Prince.

When they were finally assembled, the new tutors were bourgeois and liberal to a man, except the