Chapter 19: A Deplorable Accident

June 1835

For the next two days, Richard and Ellen stayed at home and used the time to play with their children. They took strolls in Munich’s ‘English Garden’, a public park. A few times they sat with the natives in one of the large beer gardens, in the shade of old chestnut trees, and enjoyed the light ale that was served.

A few days later, Ellen met with Marie to tell her of their visit to Coburg. She found her cousin in bad spirits. On Ellen’s insistence, Marie told her the reason. Lucien was now leaving her alone almost every night.

“I should be used to it, by now, but it’s worse zan ever. Zere is zis young man, a poet, and Lucien is crazy about ‘im. What if zis comes out? It will be a terrible scandal.”

“Poor Marie! How can he do this to you!” Ellen commiserated with her cousin. “Is there no reasoning with him?”

Marie shook her head. “I spoke to ‘im ze day before yesterday and ‘e said I should take a lover myself, ‘e wouldn’t mind. Zat was ze worst. ‘e does not care for me in ze least!”

“And will you?” Ellen asked quite matter-of-factly.

“Will I take a lover? No! I am married to Lucien.”

“But, Marie, darling, will you forego love all your life?”

“Love again?” Marie smiled bitterly, but then she reconsidered. “I should not mock you, Ellen. You mean well and I admire you for it. I just cannot believe in love myself. My mozzer claimed she loved me, yet she never found a kind word for me. My ‘usband pledged ‘is love, and now ‘e leaves me alone to be wizz zese men. Love! I’ll settle for a ‘usband ‘o comes ‘ome at night.”

There was not much Ellen could do to cheer up her cousin, but that evening she spoke with Richard under the seal of confidentiality. For once she could surprise her husband.

“That’s something I would have never suspected,” he said. “I suppose it won’t help if I speak with him?”

Ellen shook her head. “Don’t, darling! He may even challenge you.”

Richard nodded. “Poor Marie. I hope nothing will come out.”

Richard and Ellen were distracted from Marie’s misfortune by the birth of Maddalena’s child, a girl. The birth took over fifteen hours and Ellen stayed with Maddalena the whole time. The young woman was completely exhausted by the time the infant uttered her first cry and it fell to Ellen to present the daughter to her father. James Palmer was overwhelmed with the sight of his first child and he spent the evening sitting at his sleeping wife’s side and in a daze, whilst Ellen saw to it that the new wet nurse took over the feeding of the tiny girl.

Over the next days, everything revolved around Maddalena and her new daughter. Not surprisingly, the young couple decided to name the girl after James’ mother, Moira. The name Filomena Palmer just did not sound right according to Maddalena.

Summer was in full swing now and the temperatures rose steadily. Repeatedly, King Ludwig invited his court to the Nymphenburg Palace for summer night concerts. More often than not Marie de Perigneaux appeared alone at those functions, excusing her husband with a variety of explanations. It was an open secret at the Royal Court that the French envoy and his lovely wife were sailing in troubled waters, as the Archduke Josef worded it. Most courtiers held Lucien de Perigneaux for a fool, as did the King, for neglecting a beautiful and charming wife.

By contrast Richard was now strongly in the King’s favour. The coveted railroad engine, The Eagle, had arrived in over one-hundred parts and a local machine shop in Nuremberg was busy assembling it. The King hoped to be able to open the first railroad connection by the end of 1835 and Richard was already invited to sit with King Ludwig in the first carriage. Robert Stephenson must have been happy too, for the price of the engine, £1140, was a steep one in Richard’s view.

Richard and Ellen had attended yet another concert and had returned shortly after midnight, when they heard a coach draw up in front of their mansion. The door bell sounded and a very sleepy Hogget announced his Grace, the Count Hohenstedt.

“Milord, milady, I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you at this hour, but there has been a deplorable accident involving His Excellency, the Conte de Perigneaux.”

Ellen gasped and Richard felt a shock too.

“I am afraid, His Excellency met with a fatal accident,” Hohenstedt continued. “I was alerted to this terrible affair only a half hour ago and I have no reliable information yet. The Secretary for Foreign Affairs is trying to alert the Prince Wassilij in his capacity as the Doyen of the Diplomatic Corps. Would it trouble your Lordship much to accompany me to the scene of the accident? His Majesty’s First Minister instructed me to conduct the investigation of the accident and I would appreciate your presence as a witness. It seems that the affair may be delicate in nature.”

“Certainly, Count,” Richard replied. “Does the Comtesse know already?”

“No, Milord. I admit, I was hoping for Milady to break the sad news to her cousin.”

Ellen had a sinking feeling. What could she tell Marie?

“Can you tell me what happened, Count?” she asked.

“It seems that His Excellency frequented a house of less than stellar repute, milady. I beg your forgiveness. When that establishment was searched by the police, His Excellency obviously tried to escape exposure and he tried to jump from a window on the third floor to the balcony of a neighbouring house. With his vision impaired as it was, he must have missed. He was found dead in the alley between the buildings. That is all which I know so far.”

“Can you join the Count in his carriage, Richard? I shall wake Marie and tell her,” Ellen sighed.

Richard felt ridiculous in his festive clothing walking around the brothel with the Count and Prince Wassilij. Lucien de Perigneaux’ body was still lying there, his head bent at an unnatural angle. Richard had not seen many dead people in his life, but he had no doubt that Lucien de Perigneaux had died from a fall.

Prince Wassilij did not speak much at the scene. When the body was finally lifted into a carriage and transported away however, he spoke up decisively.

“Count, Baron, we need to confer about this matter. I take it that the police officers were advised to keep their mouths shut about this incident?”

“The Captain of the Police admonished them strongly,” Hohenstedt responded warily.

“The first order is to preserve the name of the Conte,” the Prince continued. “And that of the Comtesse.”

“What do you suggest, Prince?” Hohenstedt asked.

“A riding accident would be in keeping with the injuries. He came here on horseback?”

Hohenstedt pointed at a chestnut stallion that was still tied to a rail in the courtyard.

“Perfect!” the Prince exclaimed. “Now all we need is the report that his horse was found beside his body. Nobody knows why he was riding along this alley. All we can suspect is that he was thrown. As long as no mention is made of this police search, the French Court should be satisfied.”

Richard was listening incredulously. The Prince casually fabricated a story as if this was a normal occurrence for a person in the diplomatic service. He could see a likely hole in this story, though.

“The person with whom the Conte ... umh ... consorted, Count, might he ... I mean she still implicate him?”

Richard blushed over his faux pas, but Count Hohenstedt was unfazed.

“The person was apprehended. He is a poet of sorts and wanted for insulting His Majesty. We shall expedite his trial. When he will have served his short sentence at some fortress on the Austrian border, the affair will be all but forgotten.”

“This sounds as if we have a sensible explanation for this potentially embarrassing incident,” Price Wassilij stated. “I trust you gentlemen can take it from here? Splendid. I shall send a letter of condolence to the Comtesse.”

The Prince lifted his hat once more and turned. Within a minute his coach was leaving. Richard and Count Hohenstedt were left. The Count sighed.

“A most unpleasant business to be sure. I shall set everything in motion and then notify his Majesty. Should I give you transport to your residence or to the Perigneaux’?”

“I trust my wife is still with her cousin. I would appreciate if you were to bring me there. I can inform the Comtesse of the result of our informal inquest.”

Hohenfeldt shook his head. “Please, convey my sympathy to the Comtesse. Fortunately, we should be able to shield her from this unsavoury business.”

“I have no doubt that she suspects the true circumstances.”

They climbed into Hohenstedt’s coach and for the next minutes the two men sat silently whilst the carriage rumbled over the cobbled streets.

At the Perigneaux’ residence Richard could see lights behind the downstairs windows. He bade his farewell to the Count and alighted from the coach. When he rapped the door a distraught servant opened and led him into the salon.

Marie looked quite composed. When Richard entered she rose to greet him and from close up he detected some redness around her eyes.

“My heartfelt condolences, Marie,” Richard offered.

“Zank you, mon cher! Zis is so nice of you to come and look after me and poor Lucien.”

“You are kin to us, Marie,” Richard reminded her. “This is understood.”

“Zank you, neverzeless. Did Lucien suffer much?”

“No. I can tell you for sure that he did not suffer at all. He was thrown off his horse and his neck broke.”

“Zrown off ‘is ‘orse?”

“That is what Prince Wassilij, Count Hohenfeldt and I concluded. A most deplorable accident, probably due to reckless riding.”

Marie’s hand touched Richard’s cheek in a spontaneous gesture of gratitude.

“Zank you for sparing me ze disgrace!”