The Hapsburgs were good at marrying. A relentless tide of kingdoms, counties, duchies, and crowns, the House of Hapsburg wove its Empire through strategic unions. But the Hapsburg Duchess of the 19th Century, Elisabeth Amalie Eugenie, did not want to get married.
A common injustice in women’s history, Elisabeth’s narrative often begins on the day of her marriage, when she became the Empress of Austria. Yet, the real essence of her narrative began much earlier. From the moment she was born, Elisabeth, or “Sisi”, displayed a complex free spirit unseen in women of her era.
Sisi valued the countryside more than she valued her life. Recklessly, she would sneak away from her daily lessons to practice her horsemanship. Sisi became one of the most skilled equestrians of her time, remaining on horseback for as long as six hours, over 100 miles at a time. I would like to think that her infatuation with horses stems from her struggle with freedom. She was poked and prodded with royal structure from a young age, and riding gave her the distance, speed, peace and control she long desired.
After her arranged marriage to her cousin Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria in 1854, her delicate mental state erupted into a long-lasting depression. Competing in a constant power struggle with her mother-in-law Archduchess Sophie, Sisi once again found herself straining against a rigid structure.
This led Sisi to gain an affinity for travel. She felt more at home on the streets of Hungary than she did in her own palace. The Hungarian way of life enchanted her—the artisans, the countryside and, most importantly, the freedom. All of the energy reserved by her inaction in Austria was made up for through her patronage of Hungary. She indulged in their culture and language, and she became a token of the people.
Although the liberty she achieved by residing in Hungary was her greatest desire, the time of solitude and reflection awoke obsessive and unhealthy routines.
Elisabeth’s most renowned quality was her unwavering beauty. She wielded a perfectly oval face, sparkling skin and startling eyes, but the most notable quality of her appearance was her remarkably slim frame. She was regarded as the most beautiful woman in the world, and for this she became obsessed.
She threw herself into strict starvation diets, refusing to eat for days. She reduced her waist to 16 inches in circumference, maintaining a weight of 110 pounds or lower. She coupled this disorder with a rigorous exercise regimen. At least three hours a day were spent practicing gymnastics, horseback riding or walking at relentless speeds. A gymnasium was constructed in each of her castles, with separate bars and balance beams in her bedroom for early-morning practice. At 50-years-old she took up fencing, forming an unparalleled discipline and dedication to exercise.
These two lethal habits gave way to one more. Years of starvation caused Elisabeth to develop a binge-eating disorder. A staircase was constructed from her bedroom to the kitchen, so she could feast in the middle of the night without question. She purged this binge through exercise.
Her glamorous fashion sense and elaborate braids were yet another token of her beauty. She subjected herself to intense beauty rituals, tweezing out gray hairs and sleeping on a metal bedstead. During her “sacred ritual” in which her hair was braided for two or more hours, she dedicated her time to language study and became fluent in Hungarian, German, English, French and Greek.
Her extravagant life met an extravagant end in 1898 when she was killed by an anarchist assassin while promenading in Switzerland. She was the longest-reigning Empress after 44 years.
Throughout her life, Elisabeth conquered. Conquered her studies, conquered the courts and conquered her restraints. Her many talents of horseback riding, exercise and language acquisition were fueled by bare obsession, only masked as dedication. Her mania was cultivated over a lifetime of expectation and stipulation. She yearned for agency, so when she discovered a talent, she threw herself at it to maintain an outlet of control. The regal structure abused her mental health, but the most powerful abuse she endured was from herself. Despite all of this, she did not falter once in her efforts of philanthropy or her appeal to the people. Elisabeth’s story is not well known, but it is complex and sympathetic. Elisabeth wanted to get lost, but her story will remain found.
