A German Pompadour: Being the Extraordinary History of Wilhelmine van Grävenitz, Landhofmeisterin of WirtembergHay, Marie, Hon. (Agnes Blanche Marie)
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A German Pompadour: Being the Extraordinary History of Wilhelmine van Grävenitz, Landhofmeisterin of Wirtemberg
Hay, Marie, Hon. (Agnes Blanche Marie)
Grävenitz, Christina Wilhelmina von, 1685-1744
Such an accent of scorn, such an intolerable ridicule of the unbeautiful
woman lay in Wilhelmine's voice, that the Duchess drew back as from a
blow; she shrank, feeling herself thrust into the chill dreariness of the
world of unloved, unlovable, undesired, undesirable women. Then the pride
of race reasserted itself; after all, she was the mistress, and this, her
tormentor, was her servant. For once, goaded out of her measured
correctness, the Duchess became vital, vehement, agonisedly energetic
and passionate. She swept past Wilhelmine to the door of her apartment;
she flung it open, and called loudly to the sentry who stood below in the
courtyard, bidding him summon the captain of the guard and a detachment
of men-at-arms. The man's hurried steps rang out as he clattered across
the courtyard. Then the silence was only broken by the heavy breathing of
the maddened woman at the door, and once more Wilhelmine heard the swish
and whirl of the wings as the doves flew about the balustrade. Then came
the even tramp of men, and a captain of the guard, with drawn sword,
stood in the doorway before her Highness, the yellow and silver of the
men's uniforms making a picture of gay colours framed in the grey
stonework of the balcony beyond.
'Remove that woman! She has insulted me! Take her across the moat, and
close the castle door upon her. She shall not enter here again!' The
Duchess's voice came short and sharp.
'But, your Highness----' began the captain.
'Do as I command!' broke in Johanna Elizabetha; and never had man or
woman heard the 'Dull Duchess' speak in so proud a tone.
The captain approached Wilhelmine; he feared her and dreaded the Duke's
indignation.
'Mademoiselle de Graevenitz,' he said hesitatingly, 'I must obey; believe
me, I do not understand----'
'Nor need you,' answered Wilhelmine haughtily; 'I am ready to follow you.
Your Highness,' and she bent in the usual courtesy; but the poor Duchess
could not see it, for she had hidden her face in her hands, and, with
convulsive sobs, she wept in a painful reaction of weakness after her
outburst of passionate decision.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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