LOVE DRAMAS OF ROYAL COURTS.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 52, 2 March 1929, Page 6 (Supplement)

LOVE DRAMAS OF ROYAL COURTS.

(By THORNTON HALL.)

In the brilliant pageant of fair women ■Which moves with queenly beauty and •eductiv® grace down the centuries, there is not one who arrests the eyes and dazzles the senses more than Virginie, Countess Castiglione, whose ■upreme loveliness won for her the description, "Divine," in the middle years of last century. A romantic story tells u s that this peerless woman was cradled in a farmhouse, and spent her early years in a Tustio environment of cows and hens; hut, in fact, her origin was much more exalted and less romantic. Virginie first opened her beautiful eyes in a Florentine palace, the daughter of the Marquis Oldoini, an Italian diplomat, and his marchioness, one of the most graceful and charming women of her day. Beauty and rank were thus her heritage, and eeldom has woman turned them to better account. As a child, she exhibited a rare promise of loveliness and of that indescribable gift of fascination which in later made her supreme among her sex. She was born to inspire the passion and devotion of men; and before she had emerged from short frocks, she was "besieged by wooers. At twelve her beauty was the talk of Florence. When ■he accompanied her mother to the theatre, her tall, graceful figure, her brilliant eyes and exquisite complexion, "fresh and fragrant as a half-opened rose, attracted all eyes to her; and when she walked abroad she was followed by an embarrassing retinue of admirers. She was, even at this early age, by universal consent, the most beautiful girl in all Italy. One day in 1854, so the story is told by Frederick Loliee, the youthful Count Castiglione was present in Loudon at a reception given by the Duchess of Inverness; and, as he gazed at the galaxy of beautiful women around him, he said to his friend, Count Walewska, "I suppose you do not know what has brought me to London? I have come in search of a wife." "My dear Castiglione," the Count answered, "if that is so you have made a great mistake in leaving Italy. Go back, get an introduction to the Marchioness Oldoini and win her daughter. You will then have the most beautiful wife in. Europe." The Count followed this friendly advice; fell hopelessly in love with the fair virginie the moment he set eyes on her Tadiant young charms; and,after a brief wooing, won her consent to be his wife But the girl's heart was far from accompanying her hand.

Hand, But Not Heart. "I will marry you," she said, "because my mother wishes it. But, remember I do not love you; I shall never love you: in fact, I know I shall always be indifferent to you." It was under such unpromising conditions that Virginie was led to the altar, an unwilling and unhappy bride, by the Count de Castiglione—young, handsome j. . nc "> out of weak character and dissipated habits. Such a husband could never inspire respect, much less affection, in the proud, strong-willed young beauty. She owed him no allegiance, and she never gave it. Even before the .honeymoon had waned she set the Count at defiance. In vain he implored her to pay the bridal visit, prescribed by custom, to his mother. She refused point blank. Seeing that appeal and commands were alike useless, he determined to conquer by artifice. One day he invited his wife to accompany him on* a drive •ecretly bidding the coachman to drive to his mother's house. Virginie showed no sign of suspicion until the carriage was crossing the river, and her destination became clear. Then, taking off one of her shoes, she flung it into the water saying triumphantly: "Now take me back. I cannot enter your mother'* house barefoot." And back the Count bad to take the pretty rebel.

A Chafming Picture. A charming picture is painted of Virginie at this period of her life. "Her blue eyes had a magic softness; her brown hair, rich and abundant, clustered round the pure lines of her brow; the arms and bosom had an indescribable grace in their exquisite curves; the dainty dimpled chin, the lovely parted lips, like an opening crimson flower, appeared to invite a caress. Even more beautiful, if possible, was her figure, which was faultless in its symmetry and its grace of outline; while her arms and hands, in their perfect modelling, were the despair of sculptors." Such was the Countess Castiglione when she stood 011 the threshold of womanhood, the most peerless of her sex, not only in Italy, but in all Europe; and her personal charm and intelligence were at least equal to her physical perfection. Wife though she now was, she was constantly surrounded by lovers, including King Victor Emmanuel himself, the most indefatigable of them all, to whom she dispensed her smiles and favours with a charming abandon which drove her husband to distraction. She was a born Queen of Hearts, and fight royally she played the role. Victor Emmanuel's Minister, Cavour, was the first person to discover other gifts in the Countess than those of beauty. With her subtle intellect and her rare gift of making men the slaves of her will, she would make an ideal diplomatist; and he had little difficulty in inducing her to go to Paris in this character, to throw her spell over Napoleon and enlist his aid in liberating Italy. It was a mission which made an irresistible appeal to the Countess' ambition. She would be a great force in Europe, the arbiter of national destinies. She had long been weary of her weakkneed husband, and it was with a light heart that she made the journey to France to conquer the world. Honours of An Empress.

At Paris «he was received with the honovrs of an Empress, and the homage due to the loveliest woman in Europe; and Napoleon, who in his crownlese days had petted her as a child, was among her warmest welcomers. Her first appearance at the French Court was at a grand ball at the Tuileries, where her reception was such as might well have turned a less well-balanced head. So great was the sensation caused by fear superlative beauty and grace as she entered that both dancing and music ceased as if at some magic and myst terious bidding, and in breathless admiration every eye was turned to her. The Emperor advanced to meet her through the avenue of motionless dancers, and, with a profound obeisance, such as a queen might have envied, kissed her hand and bade her welcome •

v.—CASTIGLIONE, " THE DIVINE."

to his Court. The band struck up again, and the Countess, with Napoleon's arm around her waist, was soon lost in the whirl of dancers.

All Paris was soon raving over the beauty and elegance of the Italian countess, whose charms so far outshone those of its loveliest women. The men almost fought to obtain a smile or a word from her lips; while the fairest ladies of the Court joined, however reluctantly, in the chorus of adulation; and the people mobbed her in the streets to obtain a glimpse of her peerless face. But all this extravagant homage was accepted by the Countess with a placidity as perfect as herself. None was more aware of her beauty than herself, and none worshipped more ardently at the shrine of her loveliness. She was a queen by Nature's award, and the world was her subjects. Other beautiful women there might be, but the best of them were only fit to be her ministers and her I foils.

Beauty and Daring. Great as was the sensation caused by her beauty, she created a 6till greater impression by the daring with which she invested it. Remarkable stories are told of some of her appearances at Court functions. It is said that to one State ball she went in the character of Salambo, in draperies so transparent as to startle and shock the least prudish. On another occasion she appeared as "Queen of Hearts," with her hair falling in a glittering cascade "to her knees. We are told she wore no corset, "and the beautiful curves of her bosom, in its proud independence of all artificial support, were left almost entirely exposed by the light drapery of gauze. Her skirt was raised and caught back, showing the under-petticoat, and over both skirt and bodice vas thrown a chain of hearts."

It is, perhaps, little wonder that Napoleon, who was ever a lover of ladies, found such charms, allied to such abandon, irresistible. Cavour had not aver-estiraated the powers of the fair ambassadress, for Napoleon was at her feet, an abject suppliant for her favour, and eager to prove his affection in any way she chose to dictate. In later years, recalling this crowning period of her conquest, the Countess said: "If I had only gone to Paris earlier, you would have seen an Italian and not a Spaniard sharing Napoleon's throne." And probably she was right, for Eugenie's fascinations, faultlessly beautiful as she was, were to the Italian's as water to wine, or as the moon to the sun in its dazzling splendour. (Concluded Saturday next.)