a cloud of powder over him as he passed, and after several turns his peruke was of an immaculate hue.
As his whole life was spent in reflecting and working, the Prince took immense care of his health. The milk, coffee, and sugar that formed his breakfast were scrupulously weighed like drugs: at one o’clock he took a cup of chocolate, and his dinner consisted of the simplest dishes. He tried to keep all care aloof, and sacrificed all possible considerations to his convenience, habits, and comfort. In his early days he accustomed Maria Theresa to see him shut all the windows in the palace, and put on a small cap when he found that the draught was too strong. Whenever, therefore, he was seen crossing the courtyard (which he only did on the hottest days with a handkerchief placed to his mouth), the Imperial footmen would fly to close the windows, shouting, “Here he is! here he is!”
After each meal, whether at home or abroad, the Prince produced a box containing a quantity of implements for cleansing his mouth, small mirrors to examine every corner, and towels to wipe it. This ceremony he performed in all company, and it generally lasted a quarter of an hour. One day he was about to commence this operation at the table of the Baron de Breteuil, the French Ambassador, when his Excellency rose, saying to his guests, “Let us go, gentlemen, the Prince wishes to be alone.” When left by himself the Prince completed his task with Olympian serenity, but never dined out again. Accustomed to retire at eleven p.m., he did not care more for an archduke than he did for the Emperor, and if that hour surprised him playing a game of billiards with one of them, he would make his bow, and leave him in the middle of the game.
The Prince detested perfumes of any description, and if a lady, even a stranger, who used them happened to sit down by his side, he would say to her, “Retire, madam, you smell unpleasantly.” The esteem in which he held his own person had something so simple about it that he would speak of himself as of a third party. The Emperor Joseph had the busts of Field-Marshal De Lascy and Prince Kaunitz sculptured, with Latin inscriptions beneath them. Some one happening to commend the style of the latter in the presence of the Prince, he said very quietly, “I am the author of it.” He was a great admirer of horses, and every afternoon he mounted three horses in turn in a private riding-school, and nothing pleased him better than to be complimented on his horsemanship. Lord Keith sent a countryman of his to visit the Prince at the manège, recommending him to overwhelm him with compliments, and put plenty of seasoning in them. The Englishman could find nothing else to say but, “Ah, your Highness is the greatest horseman I ever saw in my life.”
“I believe it,” the Prince coolly replied.
The Chancellor’s excessive self-love allowed him no rest, and he fancied he could do everything better than others. Thus he always insisted on dressing the salad, and had a bottle expressly made for blending the oil and vinegar. One day he let this bottle fall, and destroyed the dresses of two irate ladies; but so slight an incident did not disturb his serenity. He was also very vain of his skill in popping champagne corks, though it did not prevent him from frequently spurting the liquor over his ruffles. Nor was he particular as to his remarks: one day, the company at his table happening to be silent, he said to Madame De Clary, who undertook to invite the guests, “It must be allowed, madam, that you have brought together a precious company of stupids.” On another occasion, when there was a silence at his table, he said, “I would sooner hear nonsense than nothing at all.” Whereupon M. de Mérode, one of his flatterers, at once remarked, “It must be confessed and proclaimed that Mr. Pitt is the greatest statesman now existing in Europe—does that satisfy you, Prince?”
It was especially toward those whose rank was at least equal to his own that Kaunitz displayed the greatest hauteur. When Pius VI. went to Vienna and offered the Chancellor his hand, which, according to prescription, he should have kissed, Kaunitz contented himself with taking it and shaking it with cordial familiarity. When Joseph II. assumed the reins of power, he insisted that henceforth the Emperor should go to the Minister to carry on business, and nothing of any importance took place without consulting him. The Prince enjoyed the same credit under Leopold the Second; and Baron von Gleichen himself saw that monarch and the Emperor proceed into the Minister’s garden to introduce to him the King and Queen of Naples. And the old Chancellor deserved it, for he had restored by his energy Austrian finances, which the Jesuits had allowed to fall into the most frightful state of disorder. In 1765 he reduced the rate of interest to 5 per cent., and in 1777, or five years after the expulsion of the Monks of St. Ignatius, he brought it down to 3½ per cent. His position was also strengthened by his unimpeachable probity, which formed so striking a contrast with the universal corruption prevailing in church, court, and camp. One instance is worthy quotation.
The government contracts produced enormous profits, and at a ministerial council Kaunitz strongly opposed one gentleman to whom the rest were favourable, including Joseph II. , as the terms he offered seemed advantageous. The contractor, anxious to secure the bargain, proceeded to the Chancellor’s private house, and offered his chamberlain a large bribe, stating that he had a much larger one for his master, if he were permitted to say only one word to him. Kaunitz was so amused at the proposition, that he let the contractor come in, who walked up to him, laid a purse on the table, uttered the one word “Silence!” and stalked out again. The next day Kaunitz had not a word to say against the contractor at the council, at which the Emperor expressed his surprise. Kaunitz produced the money he had received to hold his tongue, and left the Emperor to judge how much his colleagues had received for speaking. The trick was considered so clever, that its author obtained the contract.
Kaunitz never laid aside his taste for dress, though he displayed great simplicity, and could never be tempted to wear embroidery. On the
