I The tragic true story of ‘beauty queen’, Empress Elisabeth of

Austria

With the new release of Netflix series The Empress, a period drama
focused on the life of Queen Sissi, we ask, who was the real empress?

Bathing yourself in olive oil or washing your hair with a combination

of eggs and cognac may seem like a bit of an odd beauty trend in 2022
(or maybe not, if you consider the latest TikTok trends), but in 1880s
Austria, such treatments were beloved - nay obsessed over - by ‘beauty
queen’ Empress Elisabeth of Austria and Queen of Hungary. In an attempt
to preserve her youthful skin and ‘radiant complexion’ (the empress was
famously terrified of ageing), Elisabeth would prepare her own beauty
compounds and creams. Her personal favourite was named ‘Crème
Céleste’ and comprised of white wax, almond oil, and rosewater; a
concoction she was apparently confident could forever preserve her
natural beauty.

Born into the royal Bavarian House of Wittelsbach and nicknamed

‘Sissi’, Elisabeth enjoyed an informal upbringing, where her hands-on
mother and father raised her to explore the countryside and enjoy creative
musings. The young Sissi would go on to wed Emperor Franz Joseph I at
the age of 16, a marriage that thrust her into formal Habsburg court life,
for which she was unprepared and found unpleasant. Eccentric and
educated in the values of creativity and adventure, the dullness of royal
life was no match for Sissi. In an act of defiance, the empress took up
smoking (ironic, considering her fear of ageing), riding and gymnastics
during her marriage, which caused her to become a reluctant victim of
gossip.

Considered beautiful in her day, the royal’s good looks and elegant
features were often credited with retaining a public interest in the Austrian
court. Elisabeth's mother-in-law, the infamous Archduchess Sophie, once
wrote of Sissi, ‘It is the Empress who attracts them all. For she is their joy,
their idol’.

However, the young empress was far from the optimum combination
of beauty and good health. She suffered from an eating disorder and
severe depression (or ‘melancholy’ as it was dubbed in the 19th century)
as a result of a lack of stimulation from palace life. In addition to a
vigorous exercise regime, the empress practised several demanding
beauty routines, one of which included a three-hour hair ritual. Even after
four pregnancies, Elisabeth maintained her weight at approximately 110
pounds and kept a 16-inch waist for the rest of her life. Pressure to
maintain her good looks took its toll on the young royal, who was
described as being ‘graceful, but too slender’ and ‘extremely unhappy’ by
fellow courtiers.

The empress's relationship with Emperor Franz Joseph did nothing to

soften her misery. Despite what might have been displayed in films about
her, so unhappy was Elisabeth at the prospect of her marriage, that in the
minutes following her nuptials, the young bride was seen sobbing from her
carriage as she passed through precessions of excited Austrians. Once
inside the palace gates, her overbearing mother-in-law, dull husband and
the sudden death of her infant daughter, Sophie, caused Sissi a large
degree of emotional pain. Later in her life, the empress would go through
further tragedy with the loss of her only son, Rudolph, to a murder-suicide
in 1889.

Like so many women that came before and after her, historic
accounts of Elisabeth's intelligence have been somewhat neglected.
Finding it difficult to sleep, Sissi spent hours reading and writing at night.
With a particular interest in history, philosophy, and literature, the
empress grew a fondness for the German lyric poet and radical political
thinker Heinrich Heine, whose letters she collected and who inspired her
to write poetry.

Empress Elisabeth's tragic life ended in an equally tragic death after

she was assassinated with a needle file in 1898. Leaving behind a legacy
of beauty and eccentricity, Elisabeth is now remembered through
paintings and photographs which, in a bid to stay young forever, she
refused to have taken after the age of 30.

Unsurprisingly, Elisabeth took to escaping to Hungary in extreme

bouts of sadness, where she could recover from her grief and escape her
unhappy marriage. It was this and books that gave the royal some relief
during her life. Throughout her timely hair routines, Elisabeth used the
hours to learn languages; she spoke fluent English and French, and added
modern Greek to her Hungarian studies. The empress reportedly once
shared with her Greek tutor: ‘Hairdressing takes almost two hours … and
while my hair is busy, my mind stays idle. I am afraid that my mind
escapes through the hair and onto the fingers of my hairdresser. Hence
my headache afterwards’.

Like so many women that came before and after her, historic
accounts of Elisabeth's intelligence have been somewhat neglected.
Finding it difficult to sleep, Sissi spent hours reading and writing at night.
With a particular interest in history, philosophy, and literature, the
empress grew a fondness for the German lyric poet and radical political
thinker Heinrich Heine, whose letters she collected and who inspired her
to write poetry.

Franz Joseph was desperately in love with Sisi. But she did not
reciprocate with him, either. Franz Joseph was a very average man who
took his duties as emperor in a very unaverage manner. He worked from
morning till evening, supervising a failing empire, participating in the
arduous formal events without complaint, and enduring constant criticisms
for having lost wars, being unable to curb the nationalist movements, and
helpless to stop the decline Austria's military and political status. No one
even referred to him as FJ or by nicknames. Honest, unimaginative and
probably somewhat dull, his only pleasure seemed to be the quiet
breakfast with Sisi, when he could persuade her to come down the hall to
join him.

Sisi hated the formal dinners, the balls, the "Spanish etiquette"
which regulated who could speak to whom and what could be said. She
absented herself from ceremonies, she began to travel. What could Franz
Joseph do? He assented. He slept alone, on a simple bed, in a workroom
where he could do the business of government from morning till night.
Except for breakfast, which late in life he would take at the home of a lady
friend not far from Schonbrunn Castle. Sisi apparently introduced them.
 The Hofburg Palace is today a memorial to Sisi. She is pictured as
young, beautiful, and splendidly dressed. Franz Joseph is portrayed in his
extreme old age, in his Eighties. The contrast is unmistakable. It is also a
deliberate lie, one calculated to forgive the beautiful princess for
abandoning her husband for a life of restless travel, public causes,
exercise, and a search for privacy.

Empress Elisabeth's tragic life ended in an equally tragic death after

she was assassinated with a needle file in 1898. Leaving behind a legacy
of beauty and eccentricity, Elisabeth is now remembered through
paintings and photographs which, in a bid to stay young forever, she
refused to have taken after the age of 30.

II Empress Elisabeth of Austria is far from a household name,

but this side-by-side comparison to Princess Di gives insight into
her remarkable life story.

The Princess Diana craze may have peaked, but it is far from gone.
The tunnel in Paris where her car crashed is a tourist attraction, her burial
place an expensive day trip. Newspapers still have the regular Diana
articles, though the emphasis has shifted to her family.

A hundred years ago there was another Diana-like princess, one

whose reputation is benefitting today from the current royal-watching
mania. She was the Empress Elisabeth of Austria, better known as Sisi
(Sissi). Her story was more dramatic and less sordid.

Sisi was born a Wittelsbach, a member of the Bavarian royal house,

which itself was sufficiently ancient to snub most of the crowned heads of
Europe as new-comers, including Victoria's family which came from the
insignificant province of Hannover. But Sisi had too much class to do that.
She was one of nature's noblewomen, meaning that she had the kind of
breeding that takes generations to achieve--politeness, friendliness,
confidence. She also benefitted from education--an emphasis on manners,
fluency in languages, and a memory for names and titles. Also art and
literature, though she could not have had much time for reading--she
spent three hours each day putting up her hair.

What separated Sisi from countless other princesses, duchesses and

countesses was her beauty. Then as now, thinness was helped by the
proper genes, but diet and exercise really made the difference. Sisi was
the first exercise freak of modern times: she had a gym set up in her
palace bedroom so that she could work off the first ounce of fat that dared
appear. She loved long walks, horseback riding, and yachting.
Presumably, if the immense dresses and whalebone girdles of her era had
not hampered her, she would have been a jogger.

The first king to fall in love with her was her cousin, Ludwig II of
Bavaria. The second was the Hapsburg emperor, the handsome young
Franz Joseph of Austria. When Elizabeth chose to become empress,
Ludwig was heart-broken. Over the years he withdrew ever more from
society, losing himself in Wagnerian opera, building magnificent castles
where he could live in complete isolation (Neuschwanstein has been
visited by many people from Monmouth, who have seen this huge castle
with only a dozen finished rooms), and even more secretly to indulge his
taste for rugged guardsmen. He later went insane and was either
murdered or killed himself. He said his life would have been different if
Sisi had married him. They just remained good friends.

Franz Joseph, too, was desperately in love with Sisi. But she did not
reciprocate with him, either. Franz Joseph was a very average man who
took his duties as emperor in a very unaverage manner. He worked from
morning till evening, supervising a failing empire, participating in the
arduous formal events without complaint, and enduring constant criticisms
for having lost wars, being unable to curb the nationalist movements, and
helpless to stop the decline Austria's military and political status. No one
even referred to him as FJ or by nicknames. Honest, unimaginative and
probably somewhat dull, his only pleasure seemed to be the quiet
breakfast with Sisi, when he could persuade her to come down the hall to
join him.

Sisi hated the formal dinners, the balls, the "Spanish etiquette"
which regulated who could speak to whom and what could be said. She
absented herself from ceremonies, she began to travel. What could Franz
Joseph do? He assented. He slept alone, on a simple bed, in a workroom
where he could do the business of government from morning till night.
Except for breakfast, which late in life he would take at the home of a lady
friend not far from Schonbrunn Castle. Sisi apparently introduced them.

The Hofburg Palace is today a memorial to Sisi. She is pictured as

young, beautiful, and splendidly dressed. Franz Joseph is portrayed in his
extreme old age, in his Eighties. The contrast is unmistakable. It is also a
deliberate lie, one calculated to forgive the beautiful princess for
abandoning her husband for a life of restless travel, public causes,
exercise, and a search for privacy.

In her darkest hours, Diana, Princess of Wales, could have used a

friend like Empress Elisabeth of Austria. The two lived similar lives, a
century apart. Both were married off to royals at a young age. Both had to
deal with formidable mother-in-laws. And both died knowing that fairy-
tale weddings don’t always end in happily ever after.

Allison Pataki’s latest historical novel, The Accidental Empress,

makes a compelling argument that Sisi (as the last Habsburg Empress
was known) belongs in the exclusive clique that includes Anne Boleyn,
Marie Antoinette, and Princess Diana.

Pataki became intrigued with Sisi while in Austria and Hungary on a

family trip with her dad and former-Governor of New York, George Pataki.
“Sisi was arguably the first modern celebrity who operated on a global
scale,” Pataki said on the phone recently. “She captured peoples’ hearts
and imaginations the way Diana did, and yet, she’s become a footnote in
history.” She is hoping that will change with her book. Here’s a side-by-
side comparison that proves history really does repeat itself.