Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan)_ 1836-1840 duchesse de Dorothée Dino 12806 downloads.pdf

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Memoirs of the Duchesse de

Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1836-
1840

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de
Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1836-1840

Author: duchesse de Dorothée Dino

Editor: Fürstin Marie Dorothea Elisabeth de Castellane Radziwill

Release date: January 12, 2014 [eBook #44646]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44646

Credits: Produced by Hélène de Mink, D Alexander and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF
THE DUCHESSE DE DINO (AFTERWARDS DUCHESSE DE
TALLEYRAND ET DE SAGAN), 1836-1840 ***

Transcriber's note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original
document have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors
have been corrected.

MEMOIRS OF THE

DUCHESSE DE DINO

MEMOIRS OF THE
DUCHESSE DE DINO
(Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan)

1836-1840

Edited, with Notes and Biographical Index, by

THE PRINCESSE RADZIWILL
(NÉE CASTELLANE)

WITH FRONTISPIECE

SECOND SERIES

NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

1910

Printed in England

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

Paris, January 2, 1836—Dispute with America—Country Life—
Politics in Paris—Ministerial Crisis—The New Ministry—The
"Imitation"—Spring—Lacordaire—M. Thiers—Prince Royal's Tour
—The Abbé Girolet—The Princes at Berlin—Spanish Affairs—
Mme. de Lieven—The Tour of the Princes—M. de Talleyrand—
Address to the King—Alibaud—Cardinal de Retz—Duc d'Orléans
Marriage—Letter from Vienna—Duchess Stephanie—Moral
Reflections—Revolution at Lisbon—The Queen of Spain—The
Political Prisoners—Outbreak at Strasburg—Death of Charles X. 1

CHAPTER II

Paris, April 17, 1837—A Dinner-Party—The Princess Helena—The
Ministry—The Review—London Gossip—The Abbé Dupanloup—
Marriage Preparations—Fontainebleau—The King in Paris—
English Politics—Duchesse d'Orléans—Appointments—At
Valençay—Queen Victoria—The Pantheon—M. de Salvandy—
Private Theatricals—At Rochecotte—Champchevrier—Retrospect. 81

CHAPTER III

Rochecotte, January 1, 1838—Life at Paris—At Saint-Roch—
Villemain—Bonnétable—Princess of Denmark—Marriage
Proposals. 146

CHAPTER IV

Amiens, May 16, 1840—Travel in Belgium—Aix-la-Chapelle—The
Art of Travel—Berlin—Life in Berlin—Princess Albert—The
King's Illness—Tegel—Death of the King—The King's Will—The
Funeral—Silesia—Günthersdorf—Wartenberg—News from Paris—
Countess Dohna—Start for Berlin—At Berlin—Court of
Condolence—Dresden—The Castle—Carlsbad—Löbichau—
Nuremberg—Baden—Egyptian Question—Umkirch—France and
England—Foreign Politics—Mgr. Affre—Peace or War?—The
Lafarge Case—Events in Prussia—Madame Lafarge—French
Politics—Prospects of Peace—Queen Christina—The New Ministry
—The King's Speech—Thiers and Guizot—News from Berlin—
Napoleon's Funeral—Russian feeling. 190
APPENDIX I 321
APPENDIX II 332
APPENDIX III 335
APPENDIX IV 343
APPENDIX V 357
BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX 361

MEMOIRS OF THE

DUCHESSE DE DINO

CHAPTER I

1836

Paris, January 2, 1836.—M. de Talleyrand is working hard to advance the
claims of M. Molé to a seat in the French Academy. He is supported alike
by M. Royer-Collard and by the Ministers; hence M. de Villemain found
occasion to say, yesterday evening, that all the most diverse and inverse
influences were in combination to transport or to export M. Molé to the
Academy, and that he himself was strongly in favour of importation, as a
seat in the Academy was no obstacle to other posts. This play on words was
no less pointed than malicious.
There was much talk of the various speeches delivered before the King on
New Year's Day, and in particular of M. Pasquier's speech, which was
remarkable for the boldness he displayed in his use of the word "subject,"
which M. de Villemain called a progressive term.
The King was delighted with Count Apponyi's speech, and the Diplomatic
Service were equally pleased with the King's reply. In any case, Fieschi and
Mascara [1] were so much treasure-trove to all the speech-makers; emotion
and sympathy in every degree were noticeable, and M. Dupin was moved
even to sobs!

Concerning M. Pasquier, a notice was inserted by some jester in a low-class
newspaper to the effect that his recent illness was caused by his recognition
of Fieschi as his natural son! The old Comtesse de la Briche, who is falling
into her dotage, went off in all seriousness to relate this piece of folly with
sighs of profound emotion in the salon of Madame de Chastellux, the
Carlist headquarters. Such want of tact is almost inconceivable, and great
merriment was aroused!

Paris, January 4, 1836.—The illness of Madame de Flahaut's second
daughter has become critical, and provided me yesterday with an
illustration of that truest of parables, the beam and the mote, when Madame
de Lieven said to me, in reference to Madame de Flahaut: "Can you
conceive that she talks politics to me at a time like this and orders her
carriage to visit Madame Adélaïde? She will even leave her daughter's room
to discuss public affairs with her visitors, and asks me to dinner to-morrow
to distract her thoughts, as she says, and not to be left alone in her anxiety!"
Apparently people cannot see themselves as others see them, and such
incidents give one startling cause for introspection.
The much-discussed communication from President Jackson, [2] which has
been expected with great impatience, has reached the Duc de Broglie, by
way of England. He went to the King five hours later, to inform him that the
communication had arrived; when the King asked to see it the Duc de
Broglie told him that it was of no importance and that he had already sent it
to the newspapers! He made the same observation to his colleague, M. de
Thiers, who told every one he met during the evening, on the faith of this
information, that the message was of no political significance. The next day
the King and M. Thiers were able to read the message in the papers, and
found that it was very cleverly conceived, very insolent to M. de Broglie
personally, and exactly calculated to terminate the existing dispute. Council
after council was then held, and lively discussions took place; at length the
royal will has triumphed, with the support of M. Thiers, and the
communication will be declared satisfactory. The intervention of England is
to be declined, and a statement will be made that France is prepared to pay
the sum of twenty-five millions as due under the terms specified. M. de
Broglie eventually yielded, though his surrender was delayed by the wound
to his self-esteem. At first he refused to submit for approval his note

thanking England for her offer of intervention, but it was eventually shown
to the King yesterday. It was criticised as being too long, too diffuse, and
too metaphysical. There was a vigorous discussion in the council, but the
King concluded the matter by giving his hand to the Duc de Broglie with a
kind word. At the same time a considerable amount of ill-temper remains on
both sides. However, a war with the United States would be very
disadvantageous to French commerce; so this conclusion will probably have
a good effect upon public opinion.

Paris, January 11, 1836.—Yesterday morning I had a call from M. Royer-
Collard. He had just left M. de Berryer in a state of considerable vexation
and disgust; their conversation had dealt with Prague. M. de Berryer said
that at Prague M. Royer was in many men's minds and was well spoken of;
that Charles X. had several times repeated his fear that he had not
sufficiently considered several things which M. Royer had told him in a
long conversation at the time of the much-discussed address [3] of 1830. The
curious point is that when the old king attempted to recall these important
points, of which he had but a vague recollection, he found himself unable to
remember them. The incident is very characteristic of the man's good
intentions and incompetency.

Paris, January 16, 1836.—M. Humann, Financial Minister, delivered a
tirade yesterday in the Chamber of Deputies, in which he very imprudently
raised the question of the reduction of the State bonds, without previously
consulting his colleagues. It was thought that a dissolution of the Ministry
would be the consequence, but the difficulty has been settled, and matters
remain as they were, for the moment.
The King has personally seen Count Pahlen and soothed his feelings, and it
is hoped that the speech of the Duc de Broglie in the Chamber of Deputies
will not lead to any outburst. [4]

Paris, January 24, 1836.—The Chamber of Deputies remains disturbed and
restive. Apathetic as the session was at its opening, it provides vexation
enough to those responsible for the government. The prevailing ill-temper is

especially manifested against the Duc de Broglie, the tone of whose
speeches displeases the Deputies. His observation in the Chamber the other
day, "is that clear?" is regarded as almost unpardonable. [5]

Paris, January 28, 1836.—Yesterday we were dining with Marshal Maison.
It was a remarkable dinner for many reasons, but especially for the stories
told by the Marshal's wife, one of which amused me for a long time
afterwards. They were speaking of crowded balls and saying how difficult it
was to discover the exact number of guests actually present; thereupon the
Marshal's wife observed in her high, shrill voice: "I have an admirable
method which has always worked successfully in all the balls I have given;
I put my chambermaid behind the door with a bag of beans at her side, and I
say: 'Mariette, when any one comes in, you will take a bean out of the big
bag and put it in your handbag.' Thus the numbers are exactly known, and
that is the best way of doing it." So strong an inclination to wild laughter
overcame me that I nearly choked, and Mmes. de Lieven, von Werther, and
von Löwenhielm, who were present, were in the same predicament.

Paris, February 1, 1836.—If I were at my dear Rochecotte, as I was last
year, I should think that spring was beginning on February 1, whereas here
one can say nothing of the kind. My old dislike of Paris has been growing
upon me for some time. Not that people are in any way disagreeable—
indeed, the contrary is the case; but life at Paris is too exhausting, the
atmosphere is too keen, attractions are too numerous and widely spread,
while at the same time they are not sufficiently strong. There is no leisure,
constant worry, and a continual sense of want.
At London I lived amid a society at once high and simple-minded; social
success and leisure were possible at the same time. M. de Talleyrand there
enjoyed good health and was occupied with important business. The
excitement which I then experienced had its compensations; I had time for
my own occupations, for reading, working, writing, and thinking, nor was I
pestered by every idle person. If calling is a tax upon one's time, calls can
be paid at London with an empty carriage and with cards; in short, life was
then a pleasure. Hence my deep and melancholy regret for those years
which will never return; hence my longing for the calm and sweetness of

Rochecotte, with its wide horizon and its pure sky, for my clean house, my
kind and simple neighbours, my workpeople, my flowers, my big dog, my
little cow and goat, the good Abbé, the modest Vestier, the little wood
where we used to gather fir-cones—the place, in short, where I am at my
best, because I have time for valuable introspection, for enlightenment of
thought, for the practice of good and the avoidance of evil, time to unite
myself in simplicity of heart and mind with the beauty, the strength, and the
graciousness of nature, which there gives me shelter, refreshment, and
repose. But a truce to these self-complainings, which are useless and
ungrateful.
Yesterday I saw Dr. Ferrus, on his return from Ham. His account of what he
found there is as follows: Both the orders and the attitude of the doctors
were extremely kind, but it was necessary to find some excuse for action,
and the two ex-Ministers who were really ill, MM. de Chantelauze and de
Peyronnet, insolently refused to permit a visit from the doctors; while the
others, MM. de Polignac and Guernon de Ranville, though very compliant,
submissive, and anxious to take advantage of the kindly attitude of the
Government, were unfortunately unable to plead any malady. Hence it was
necessary to postpone the desired attempt to improve their condition. [6]

Paris, February 6, 1836.—Yesterday morning I went to the session of the
Chamber of Deputies, with the Countess Bretzenheim, who had invited me
to accompany her; there I heard for the first time a speech by M. Thiers; he
spoke admirably, in opposition to the much-discussed proposal for the
conversion of the stock, so imprudently put forward by M. Humann. While
M. Thiers was speaking I thought I noticed him spitting blood several
times; I wrote to ask him how he was, and the following is an extract from
his reply: "I am exhausted; I did not spit blood, but in those few moments I
shortened my life by several days; I have never encountered so strong an
opposition of opinion, and an iron will is required to overcome an obstinacy
so plain as that displayed by the Chamber. I am very sorry that you should
have heard me speak, as the figures must have wearied you, and have given
you a poor idea of our public oratory. We should be heard and judged only
upon days of excitement, and not when we are discussing accounts. In any
case, I am doubtful of the consequences, and were it not for the King I

should be inclined to wish that the Ministry would resign. The struggle
against such imprudence and foolishness is an unbearable task."
This letter prepared me to some extent for the events of the evening.
However, M. Royer-Collard, who came to me in the course of the morning,
believed that the Ministry would emerge triumphant, for the reason that the
Chamber would find difficulty in using an advantage, if they gained one. He
was overcome with admiration for the speech of M. Thiers, and had told
him as much in the Chamber. On this occasion they spoke to one another
again, for the first time since the discussion of the September laws.
My son, M. de Valençay, came directly from the session of the Chamber of
Deputies to dinner with us. He told us of the stupefaction produced in the
Chamber by the strange conclusions of Humann, and the excitement of the
Ministers because the project for converting the Government stock had
been postponed by a majority of two votes only.
The Journal de Paris announced the resignation of the Ministry at a later
hour, and General Alava, who had just seen the Duc de Broglie, told us at
eleven o'clock in the evening that the King had accepted their resignations,
and had sent for MM. Humann and Molé.
At that moment I received the following note from M. Thiers: "We have
resigned in full freedom and seriousness. The King knew beforehand, and
agreed with every one, and myself in particular, that this result was the
inevitable consequence of our intention to oppose the scheme for
conversion. Our honour would be compromised if we did not persist in our
action and force a new Ministry to take office. It matters not if that Ministry
be weak and helpless; the burden of proving the fact will rest upon the
Third Party. No other action is possible, either for the King or for ourselves,
and would in any case be a deception in the style of Charles X."

Paris, February 7, 1836.—There is no news of the Ministry except the fact
of resignation, which is definite. It is thought that M. de Broglie will never
take office again, as the animosity of the Chamber is chiefly directed
against himself.

M. Thiers made no attempt to oppose resignation; he was actuated rather by
the desire to secure an honourable withdrawal and to dissociate himself
from colleagues whom he did not like than by any special devotion to the
point at issue, though his defence was marked with great skill.
The King summoned M. Humann, who refused, M. Molé, who declined, M.
Dupin, who spoke at random—shades of meaning which are worthy of
note. In short, nothing has been done, nor can any action be regarded as
probable. The friends of M. Molé say that he will no longer be sent from
pillar to post or put up with requests, refusals, and vexations such as he
experienced in November, and that if people will not submit to his views he
will decline to interfere.

Paris, February 8, 1836.—Yesterday I had a call from M. Royer-Collard.
He explains the attitude of the Chamber towards the last Ministry as
follows: The Ministry had lasted for three years and was worn out,
especially the doctrinaire members of it, while the Cabinet had wearied the
Chamber by too constantly pressing for decisions and making personal
matters Cabinet questions; moreover, the Chamber had gone beyond its
powers in the announcement issued at the time when the laws concerning
intimidation were passed; [7] it had been by no means popular in the
provinces, while the disdainful folly of M. de Broglie had filled the cup to
overflowing. Finally, as the country was prosperous and peaceful both at
home and abroad, the Chamber had thought the moment opportune to
enounce its rights and to show the Ministry that it was not indispensable;
while a popular question in the provinces had provided it with an
opportunity for displaying its power, in which determination it was
supported by its political ignorance, which will not allow it to foresee the
extent of the crisis. M. Royer-Collard added that the only two Ministers
who could have preserved their reputation in the Chamber were MM. Thiers
and Duchâtel, but that here again some small period of exile would be
necessary.
Yesterday we dined with M. Thiers in fulfillment of a long-standing
invitation. He was highly delighted and fluttering whenever he pleased. He
proposes to travel, and to visit Vienna, Berlin, Rome, and Naples; he will
start in April. M. de Broglie, who was also at dinner, appeared sad and

downcast, and I was astonished that he made no attempt to hide his
feelings; it was not the devil, but the doctrine, that he was burying.
In the evening I paid a visit to Madame de Lieven and made the
acquaintance of M. Berryer. M. Royer-Collard, who sees him constantly,
told me in the morning that M. Berryer was very anxious to make my
acquaintance. We were on our best behaviour. He talks simply and kindly.

Paris, February 9, 1836.—Yesterday we dined with the Sardinian
Ambassador. [8] I was told that nothing had been yet decided concerning the
Ministry, and M. Molé, who was sitting near me, confirmed this statement.
He has declined to join the Third Party, in spite of the universal desire that
he should do so. I believe that, for want of a better leader, M. Dupin will
eventually profit for the time being by this state of affairs; as, however, the
little group which he leads is very weak, he will be obliged to base his
power upon the Left, and this will cost him dear. His position will be
analogous to that of the English Whig Ministry confronted by O'Connell. I
hope that this state of affairs will be of no long duration, though a short time
is quite enough in which to take many retrograde steps. At the Château
sadness prevails, uneasiness in the diplomatic world and anxiety in public
opinion.
The young and beautiful Queen of Naples died on January 31, a few days
after the birth of her child. The news arrived yesterday. [9]

Paris, February 10, 1836.—The judges in Fieschi's case, and the audience,
take a remarkable interest in this man. He is an unprecedented character; he
has a fine intellect and a real genius for strategy, while the terrors of his
situation never obscure his memory, his self-possession, or his penetration;
he is a man of strong passions, especially where women are concerned. His
affection for Nina Lassave is remarkable; he constantly writes to her, and
when he learned that she had been unfaithful to him he reproached her for
not waiting a few days and sparing him this last bitterness, as his execution
would have set her free; all this was written in the most touching style.
Another point is that when M. Ladvocat sent money to Fieschi, that he
might provide himself with some small dainties in prison, instead of

spending the money, he sent it to this woman Nina. She wrote to thank him
more or less in the following terms: "I thank you for thus depriving yourself
for my sake; with what you have sent me I have bought a few decent things
to do you credit before your judges, but as you will soon be unable to send
me anything more, I am economising, and am now mistress of forty francs."
This remark concerning economy is disgusting. Moreover, she wrote to
Fieschi to assure him that she had remained faithful to him, which is untrue.
Everybody seems to have been far more interested by these amorous details
than by the actual crime. What a strange time it is! Fieschi's
correspondence, in passing through the hands of M. Decazes, became the
amusement of the House of Peers; but the truly astonishing fact is the
notoriety which the whole story has given to Mlle. Nina, who was formerly
resident in the Salpêtrière. It is asserted that monetary proposals have been
made to her by men of high position; there is no doubt that one hears the
strangest descriptions of her beauties and her imperfections, and it is a
positive fact that she has only one eye.
If Fieschi is a lover, he is no less attracted by religion. When the almoner of
the Chamber of Peers asked those under trial if they wished to hear Mass,
Fieschi alone replied yes, and said that he was anxious to hear it as he was
neither a heathen nor an atheist; that if he was not a theological expert he
had nevertheless read Plutarch and Cicero and firmly believed in the
immortality of the soul; as the soul was not divisible it could not be
material, and that, in short, he believed in the spiritual nature of man. He
asked the almoner to come and see him again and not to leave him after his
sentence had been pronounced. In view of such inconsistencies, how is it
possible to pass any absolute judgment on men?
I believe the following to be an accurate bulletin of the Ministerial crisis:
Yesterday morning the King sent for Dupin, Sauzet, and Passy, and
commissioned them to form a Ministry upon two conditions only: firstly,
they were not to give a post to any one who had voted against the repressive
laws; secondly, the Minister for Foreign Affairs must be a man who would
reassure European opinion and be agreeable to himself. The three men
replied that they understood the King's wishes, but that they could not bind
themselves until they had consulted their friends; they then withdrew. At the
Chamber they sent round a list, which was drawn up nearly as follows:

Dupin to be Minister of Justice and President, Passy to be Minister of
Finance, Flahaut of Foreign Affairs, Molitor of War, Montalivet of the
Interior. I have since learned that Montalivet refused the post in spite of the
King's wishes, and that the King refused to accept the nomination of
Flahaut. The King wished to appoint Rumigny or Baudrand to the Ministry
of Foreign Affairs, and would have declared for the latter, if there had not
been a wish to retain him as a companion to the Prince Royal on his travels.
The Prince is very pleased at the fall of the last Ministry: I believe he is
wrong; the Flahaut party are delighted. The Ministerial party hope to secure
the election of M. Guizot as President of the Chamber of Deputies; the
Opposition will support M. Martin du Nord.
In the evening I accompanied M. de Talleyrand to a dinner given by M. de
Montalivet. Counts Pahlen and Apponyi were pale with fear inspired by the
sight of M. de Flahaut's name on a list of Ministers. Marshal Maison was
regretting the loss of his ambassadorship at St. Petersburg with cries of rage
which were not in the best of taste.
We then went to the last Ministerial reception given by the Duc de Broglie.
M. de Broglie believes himself to be fully in touch with the requirements of
the time; he has no suspicion of the actual truth, that he is the sole cause and
object of the squabbling which is going on, that he is the man rejected by
the Chamber, and that if he were to say to his colleagues, "I see that I am
myself the real stumbling-block; I will withdraw, but I beg you to remain,"
M. Molé would take his place and everything would be settled to the
general satisfaction.

Paris, February 11, 1836.—Madame de Rumford died yesterday morning
after breakfast; she had had some friends to dinner the evening before. She
had been much changed for some time, but has always refused to
acknowledge herself an invalid, and remained as discourteous to death as
she was to those about her. The loss of her salon will be felt; it was a
meeting-place, and there are very few that are habitually regarded as such.
Every one found something there to remind him of this or that period of his
life. This loss has saddened me; it is not well to have reached the age of
eighty-four. But M. de Rigny was fifty, Clémentine de Flahaut sixteen,

Yolande de Valençay two! Life is threatened at every step of the ladder, and
one must always be ready.
That old cat Sémonville, whose claws are always ready, reached the
Luxembourg yesterday with the announcement that the Ministry was at
length settled. He was surrounded with questioners, and gave the list as
follows: "President of the Council, Madame Adélaide; Justice and Public
Worship, the Duchesse de Broglie; Foreign Affairs, the Duchesse de
Dino; [10] Interior, the Comtesse de Boigne; War, the Comtesse de Flahaut;
Marine, the Duchesse de Massa; Finance, the Duchesse de Montmorency;
Commerce, the Marquise de Caraman!" I sent this piece of wit to Madame
de Lieven, in reply to a note asking for certain information; she replied that
the King's condition at least was fulfilled, and that the Minister of Foreign
Affairs was not likely to disturb Europe.
This is poor stuff, but poorer still is the fact that it is impossible to form a
Ministry, in seriousness or otherwise. Yesterday I was at the Tuileries. The
Ministers who had resigned were all grouped about the King, but, I think,
with no particular object. It is deplorable!

Paris, February 12, 1836.—Of Ministerial news there is none; all that I
have learned yesterday is as follows: Dupin, Passy, and Sauzet spent three
hours with the King, and told him that they could not undertake the
formation of a Ministry, as various intrigues had made the attempt
impossible; they were, however, ready themselves to enter the Ministry, if
their services were agreeable to the King. They then withdrew, and the King
sent for M. Molé in the course of the evening, but I cannot say what passed
at this interview.

Paris, February 13, 1836.—I have the following information as regards the
events of yesterday concerning the Ministerial crisis. M. Molé declares that
he will not take office without M. Thiers, who will not come in without M.
Guizot; he, again, will not act without M. de Broglie, unless the latter
recognises that he is himself the only real obstacle, insists that his
colleagues should take office without him, and writes them a letter to that
effect, dated from Broglie. M. de Salvandy attempted to enlighten him upon

this point, but met with a very poor reception. A lively scene is said to have
taken place between MM. de Broglie and Guizot; certainly M. de Broglie is
obviously agitated, and so ill-tempered as to rouse the pity of his friends
and the contempt of other men. Some people think that the King will
summon de Broglie and request him with greater authority than Salvandy
used to put an end to this deplorable state of affairs, which is only continued
on his account.
Dupin's chance has entirely disappeared. During the two days when it was
thought that he would be Minister, Thiers and Guizot both entered the
competition for the Presidency, and so gained an opportunity of counting
the votes in their favour. M. Guizot received eight, M. Martin du Nord
fifteen; the remainder of the Ministerial party would have voted for M.
Thiers and secured for him the refusal of the position.

Paris, February 16, 1836.—Fieschi and his accomplices have been
condemned to death; M. de Mareuil came yesterday to tell us of the
sentence, at eleven o'clock in the evening. [11]
It seems that many of the peers gave long explanations to justify their
manner of voting. A small fraction of the Chamber considered that the
circumstantial evidence against Pépin and Morey was inadequate to justify
the extreme penalty, and preferred to inflict penal servitude for life. Fieschi
was condemned to death unanimously, and M. Barthe asked that the
punishments reserved for parricides should be added to the death penalty.
The newspapers announce the death of Madame Bonaparte; her great-
granddaughter—that is, the daughter of Joseph, who married the son of
Lucien—was the only member of her numerous family at her side. Cardinal
Fesch has been very attentive to her, and she leaves him her pictures; it is
also thought that the division of her inheritance will cause fresh dissensions
among her children, who are by no means at harmony with one another, for
it seems that during her lifetime she gave considerable sums to Lucien,
Jérôme, and to Madame Murat, which sums they are not willing to repay.

Paris, February 17, 1836.—Yesterday the King assembled his former
Ministers and announced that in the first place he would not accept their

resignations until another Cabinet was formed. Furthermore, he said that it
was only by an accident that a majority in the Chamber had been against
them; their system was that of the Chamber, although certain individuals in
the Cabinet might not be agreeable to the Chamber, and he would therefore
be delighted to see them all remain in office; if, however, they thought that
any of their members were likely to keep the Chamber in a state of
exasperation, he asked them to consider the matter among themselves and
then to let him know upon what he could rely. M. de Broglie said that the
King should make trial of the Third Party, to which the King replied: "It
may please you, sir, to restate the weakness of that Third Party, but it does
not please me to make so disastrous an attempt; I have had enough of three
days' ministries; the majority is not to be found either in the Third Party or
in the Left, but with you, gentlemen, or, if not with all of you, at any rate
with some. Your arrangements and mutual engagements ought to give way
before the gravity of the situation: so much I expect from your honesty and
your desire for the general welfare; for my own part, gentlemen, I shall fold
my arms and bide my time at Saint-Cloud." MM. de Broglie and Guizot
replied that no member of the Cabinet was exactly bound, but that there
were certain conventions which they must respect in each member's case.
This was a very inopportune reply at such a moment, especially from the
first speaker, who could have cut the Gordian knot at one word and have
simplified the position. No one knows what the result will be, unless
matters should turn out as M. Royer-Collard predicted to M. Thiers last
Friday: "You are impossible to-day, but in a week you will be necessary,
indispensable, and absolute."
M. de Talleyrand and myself visited the Queen yesterday. The fact that the
Court was in mourning for the Queen of Naples, together with the trial of
Fieschi and the Ministerial crisis, made it impossible for the Château to take
part in the pleasures of the carnival, and a very serious spirit prevailed. The
King's attention was occupied by thoughts of the punishment which awaited
the prisoners condemned the previous evening, and he had not ventured to
go out, because he knew that Madame Pépin and her children were lying in
wait for him. The Château was mournful indeed, and formed a painful
contrast with the joyful tumult in the streets. M. Pasquier came to tell the
King that Pépin had asked to see him that morning, so that the execution
must be postponed until the next day.

Before going home I spent half an hour with Madame de Lieven. No one
was there except Lady Charlotte Grenville and M. Berryer, who said that
when one knew nothing one was able to say anything one liked, and that he
had no hesitation in asserting that Thiers' was the only possible
combination, and alone likely to be agreeable to the Chamber.

Paris, February 19, 1836.—Yesterday morning I had a call from M. Thiers,
who had definitely accepted the task of forming a Cabinet and acting as
President. He proposed to spend the rest of the day in making up his list. He
has too much common sense to underrate the difficulty of his new position,
and too much courage or blindness to be dismayed by it. M. Molé failed to
secure election to the Academy; it has been a disastrous week for him.

Paris, February 20, 1836.—The following are the actual words written by
the King beneath the signature which he was obliged to append to the
death-warrants of Fieschi, Pépin, Morey, &c.: "It is only a profound sense
of duty which induces me to give an approval which is one of the most
painful acts of my life; however, considering the frankness which Fieschi
showed in his confession and his conduct during the trial, I intend that the
subordinate parts of his punishment shall be remitted, and I deeply regret
that my conscience will not allow me to do more."

Paris, February 21, 1836.—M. Thiers is finding difficulties in the way of
his attempt to combine a Ministry; every one is willing to work with him or
under him, but not in company with others. At the same time it is important
that the Cabinet should be both strong and reputable. There are difficulties
everywhere, even for superior mortals.

Paris, February 22, 1836.—M. de Talleyrand is in a very bad temper: the
newspapers and public opinion all regard him as responsible for the new
Ministry: the names have at length appeared in this morning's Moniteur. [12]
He, however, has had nothing to do with it, and as the sudden rise of M.
Thiers has not met with universal approval, the English being particularly
incensed, M. de Talleyrand is aroused to great irritation by all that he hears

upon the subject, and vents his anger upon Paris, his age, and his position,
and keenly regrets that he ever left London.

Paris, February 23, 1836.—Yesterday, on returning home at the end of the
morning, I found M. Berryer at my door; he had just left the Chamber of
Deputies, where Thiers had been speaking. Berryer has a high opinion of
the talent, the intellectual power, and the capacity of Thiers. Berryer is
himself the most unprejudiced, impartial, and simple of characters; there is
nothing artificial, affected, or extreme about him; it is difficult to think of
him as a party man. In my opinion, no one was ever less a party man, and
perhaps he would be glad if he could avoid the necessity of taking sides
entirely. The ease, the lightness, the gentleness, and the simplicity of his
conversation are the more creditable to him by contrast with his profession
and his position. The justice of his judgment and the kindness which is most
constantly characteristic of it compel confidence in his opinions and his
statements.
Thiers' speech was received with marked coldness by the Chamber. The fact
is fortunate for him, in my opinion. There is some danger that the
intoxication of success might lead to his fall, and anything which will keep
him from disaster can only be useful and for his good.

Paris, February 24, 1836.—M. Molé dined here yesterday. His bearing
shows some traces of coldness and disappointment. He was unwilling to act
in concert with M. Dupin in the matter of the Ministry; consequently the
latter, who commanded several votes in the French Academy, withdrew
them, and so brought about the rejection of M. Molé; he then observed: "M.
Molé would not be my colleague, and I do not care for him as my fellow
Academician."
Paris is likely to become increasingly difficult as a place of residence. Apart
from the two great dynastic divisions which separate society, we shall now
have to deal with all the factions caused by disappointed ambition, the
Molé, Broglie, Guizot, and Dupin factions, and finally the Thiers faction.
These will all be as bitterly hostile to one another as the Legitimists are to
the Moderate Party. All these factions will never find any such common

point of amalgamation as the Château might and should become; on the
contrary, some object to the King, others to our house. Detestation and
malignancy are mutual, but no one is willing to examine himself or to
recognise that there are faults on all sides, and that the real causes of blame
are to be found in himself. How strange is the blindness and how great the
ill-faith of men, especially of those who are involved in public affairs and
interests!

Paris, March 4, 1836.— Yesterday, at the house of M. de Talleyrand, M.
Mignet related that Marchand, a former valet de chambre under the
Emperor, proposed to publish a commentary upon the "Commentaries" of
Cæsar, which Napoleon had dictated to him in the last weeks of his life in
St. Helena. Marchand often spoke to M. Mignet of Napoleon's last
moments, of the loneliness and emptiness of his life; in illustration, he said
that one evening when the Emperor, who was then very ill, was in bed, he
pointed to the foot of the bed and said to him: "Marchand, sit down there
and tell me something." Marchand said to him: "Dear me, sire, what can I
tell you who have done and seen so much?" "Tell me about your youth; that
will be simple and true, and will interest me," replied the Emperor. There is
something very pathetic about this little dialogue. What teaching might not
Bossuet have drawn from these few words—Bossuet, who did not disdain
to introduce the somewhat trivial anecdote of the fowl into the funeral
oration upon the Palatine! Surely the greatest homage to Bossuet is the fact
that every great misfortune, every triumph or failure, makes us turn towards
the Eagle of Meaux, who alone could extol, lament, and immortalise them
worthily.

Paris, March 5, 1836.—Yesterday morning MM. Berryer and Thiers met at
my house. I think it would have been impossible to have been present at a
conversation more animated, sparkling, witty, surprising, kind, sincere, free,
and true, or more devoid of all party spirit, than that which then arose
between these two men, so different and so highly gifted. I also thought that
it would never finish; they did not go until after six o'clock.

Paris, March 7, 1836.—M. Royer-Collard introduced me yesterday to M.
de Tocqueville, the author of "Democracy in America." He seemed to me to
be a nice little man, simple and modest, with an intellectual expression. We
talked a great deal about England, and our views upon the destiny of the
country were quite in harmony.

Paris, March 9, 1836.—I had several times glanced at the "Imitation of
Jesus Christ." Whether it was that my knowledge of others and myself was
only superficial or that my mind was ill-prepared and too wandering, I had
seen no great difference between this famous work and the "Journée du
Chrétien" and the "Petit Paroissien." I had often been surprised at the great
reputation which this book enjoyed, but had never found any pleasure in
reading it. Chance led me to open it the other day with Pauline; the first
lines caught my attention, and I have since been reading it with ever
increasing admiration. What intellectual power beneath the highest
simplicity of form! What profound knowledge of the deepest recesses of the
human heart! What beauty and enlightenment! And yet it is the work of an
unknown monk. Nothing humiliates me more than a failure of self-
knowledge or shows me more clearly in what darkness I was sunk.

Paris, March 10, 1836.—Yesterday I went with the Duchesse de
Montmorency to a ball, given by Madame Salomon de Rothschild, the
mother. The house is the most magnificent that can be conceived, and is
therefore known as the Temple of Solomon. It is infinitely superior to her
daughter-in-law's house, because the proportions are higher and greater. The
luxury of it is indescribable, but in good taste—pure Renaissance, without
any mixture of other styles; the gallery in particular is worthy of
Chenonceaux, and one might have thought one's self at an entertainment
given by the Valois. In the chief room the armchairs are made of gilt bronze
instead of gilt wood, and cost a thousand francs apiece. The dining-hall is
like the nave of a cathedral. All was well arranged and admirably lighted;
there was no crushing, and every courtesy.

Paris, March 11, 1836.—Yesterday I went to Saint-Thomas d'Aquin, to hear
the Abbé de Ravignan, formerly the King's procureur; he is a friend of

Berryer, who praises him greatly, and a brother-in-law of General
Exelmans; I had known him in the Pyrenees, where I had been struck by the
beautiful expression of his face. He is a good preacher, with an excellent
delivery, while his style is pure and refined, but rather logical and
argumentative than warm or sympathetic. He therefore lays more stress
upon evangelical dogma than upon morality, and seemed to me to be a man
of talent rather than a great preacher.

Paris, March 18, 1836.—With regard to my reflections upon Bossuet, [13]
you praise my attitude somewhat unduly. I have, indeed, a love of truth, and
the world, with the dreadful misery which it contains, fills me with disgust;
I have learned to fear the contagion of the world, under which I have
suffered too long; I examine myself seriously, and am horrified to find
myself immersed in the sorrow and grief which are the lot of worldly
people and are the destruction of peace of mind, charity, and purity. I make
some attempt to burst my bonds and rise to a purer region; but none the less
my efforts are usually impotent, and my struggles vain and futile. As a rule I
cannot tell whether the moral weariness which overwhelms me is due to the
sad sight of the deplorable agitations amid which I live, or to the no less
deplorable agitation of my inward life. When we have spent years amid the
struggles of life and desire to change our path, however remote may be the
road which leads us forward, we find ourselves a burden to ourselves; we
can neither go forward with our load nor throw it off straightway; we
stumble and retrace our steps; we prove ourselves but feeble travellers, and
our goal recedes as our desire to reach it increases. Such is my case....
Yesterday, towards the end of the morning, M. de Tocqueville came to pay
his call; I like him. The Duc de Noailles also called; he is not so attractive,
though by no means disagreeable. Another caller was Berryer, who might
be most agreeable if his mind and bearing did not betray traces of low life,
which have struck my notice. However, the conversation never flagged, as
the first visitor has sound views, the second good judgment, and the third
that mental alacrity which enables him to apprehend a point at once. The
conversation of these distinguished men was concerned only with facts, and
not with people: names were not mentioned; there was no gossip, no
bitterness or extravagance. The talk was as it should always be, especially at
a lady's house.

Paris, March 20, 1836.—How deep a melancholy may be inspired by the
first fine spring day, when it fails to harmonise with one's own frame of
mind! For forty-eight hours the weather has been mild and lovely, the
atmosphere filled with sweetness and light and breathing joy and happiness;
new life, new warmth and pleasure are springing into being, and I feel
suffocated in this town. The public promenades cannot take the place of the
country, and nothing can bring back the sweet springtime of last year, with
its flowers, its wide horizon, and its freshness, in which it was so easy to
take breath. I would worship any one who could give me back these things!
And instead I drive with Madame de Lieven through the Bois de Boulogne
in a closed carriage! Such was my occupation yesterday, while M. de
Talleyrand was at the Academy of Moral and Political Science, voting for
M. de Tocqueville, who failed to secure election.

Paris, March 24, 1836.—The Princess Belgiojoso is rather striking than
beautiful: she is extremely pale, her eyes are too far apart, her head too
square, her mouth large and her teeth discoloured; but she has a good nose,
and her figure would be pretty if it were somewhat fuller; her hair is jet
black, and she wears striking dresses; she has intellect, but wants balance,
and is full of artistic whims and inconsistencies; her manner is intentionally
and skilfully natural, sufficiently to hide her affectation, while her
affectation seems to counterbalance a certain innate vulgarity, which her
flatterers style an untamed nature. Such is my impression of this personage,
with whom I have but the slightest acquaintance.
M. Royer-Collard found me reading the "Imitation" the other day, and
brought me yesterday a pretty little copy which he has had from his youth,
and has almost invariably carried about with him. I have been deeply
touched by this gift, and regard it as a most precious possession. My only
objection to this little book is the fact that it is in Latin: I never knew Latin
well, and I find that I have now forgotten it. I think I shall have to take it up
again.
M. Royer asked me to give him in exchange some book which I had
constantly read. I gave him a copy of Bossuet's "Funeral Orations," deeply
scored with my marks; the ribbon-mark is torn away, but a hairpin
happened to be marking one of the passages in the oration on the Princess

Palatine, which had a special meaning for myself. M. Royer accepted the
little volume most gratefully.
Yesterday evening I went to the Italian Opera, and Berryer paid a visit to
my box. His mind was full of the morning session in the Chamber of
Deputies and of M. Guizot's formidable speech. M. Thiers proposes to reply
this morning, as, indeed, he must, unless he wishes to see M. Guizot
become paramount in the Chamber; in short, we are to see the real
adversaries engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle. This is an event, and is so
regarded. Berryer described the whole affair marvellously well, without
bitterness against any one, and without a word more than was necessary to
make the situation clear. In ten minutes he had told me everything.

Paris, March 27, 1836.—Yesterday morning I had the honour of seeing the
King with Madame Adélaïde; his conversation was charming. He was kind
enough to tell me stories of his marriage, of the Court of Palermo and the
famous Queen Caroline. I also heard that Prince Charles of Naples and Miss
Penelope arrived here within the last two days in a state of complete
destitution. This was an embarrassing event, and in a sense discreditable,
especially to the Queen. [14]
I have reason to believe that Thiers did not reply forthwith to Guizot's great
speech the other day for reasons of prudence, and in obedience to the orders
of his superiors; but he will lose nothing by waiting, and we shall see a
striking explosion upon the next opportunity. I think the authorities were
unwilling to regard the question as a duel between two individuals, and
have preferred to let the effect of the first speech wear off before offering a
reply. In any case, an enormous majority responded to the effort that was
made. The only vexatious point is the number of concessions offered by M.
Sauzet in his speech, and on this subject I have noticed some strong
discontent.
M. de Tocqueville's name was proposed, without his knowledge, to the
Academy of Political and Moral Science by M. Cousin; M. Tocqueville has
told me that he did not wish to seek election again. As the grandson of M.
de Malesherbes, he has no desire to join an Academy of mere figureheads,
of which, for the most part, this institution is composed.

Paris, March 29, 1836.—It is certain that all idea of intervention in Spain
has been abandoned by every grade within the Governmental hierarchy;
some had never entertained the project, and others have dropped it. I think
there is no reason to fear any imprudence whatever in this direction.
Rumour is entirely occupied with a conversation between the King and
Guizot, in which the former is said to have expressed his extreme
displeasure with the dates which were given as marking the good system of
administration. The King said that the system was not the work of any
individual, but was his own, and that the only date he would recognise was
his own date, August 9. He added that it was bad policy to attack the only
Cabinet which could command a majority at that moment. Guizot replied
that if the King cared to test the matter he would see that the majority was
to be found elsewhere. "Not so," returned the King; "it is you, sir, who are
deluded, and you fail to see that the course you are pursuing rather divides
you from the points at issue than brings you nearer to them. If you continue,
you will perhaps force me to take a measure which I detest, and which will
assuredly be more displeasing to yourself; that measure is a dissolution of
the Chamber, please remember." I believe this conversation to be literally
exact, and I think it will induce people to consider their words and deeds
more carefully, the more so as the doctrinaires, who know perfectly well
that they have no chance of re-election, will shrink from a dissolution.
M. de Chateaubriand has sold his works, unedited or as yet unwritten, for a
hundred and fifty thousand francs cash, in addition to a yearly income of
twelve thousand francs payable to his wife upon his death. He is said to be
completely upset by the payment of his debts, and his future existence
which is thus defined and circumscribed seems to him a heavy burden.
Everything he writes, even apart from his memoirs, will belong to his
publishers in return for a scale of payment now laid down. The manuscripts
of his memoirs have been solemnly sealed up in his presence in an iron box,
which has been deposited with a solicitor. He says that his thoughts have
suffered imprisonment for debt in place of himself.

Paris, March 30, 1836.—I have certainly heard more music this year than
last; as I am deprived of all my favourite amusements, I have devoted
myself wholeheartedly, without reserve, to music, and have sought

opportunities for hearing it. As the advance of years or circumstances
diminish my tastes, the pleasures which are left to me are intensified by the
disappearance of others; affection takes the place of coquetry and music of
dancing; reading and meditation replace idle conversations, with their
malignity or indiscretions; I drive instead of calling, and prefer rest to
excitement.

Paris, April 13, 1836.—I took Pauline yesterday evening to a charity lottery
at the house of the Duchesse de Montmorency, where there was a crowd.
All the Faubourg Saint-Germain were there, including even the Duchesse
de Gontaut, formerly governess to the Duc de Bordeaux; she condescended
so far as to bow to me very politely. Pauline was interested by everything,
as girls of fifteen usually are. She was very pretty; her hair was simply
done, but dressed by the great Edouard; she wore a sky-blue dress, and
looked fresh as a rose, with her calm and dainty bearing and her happy little
face; in short, she met with general approval, consequently I felt well
disposed to every one; the slights formerly inflicted upon me by this or that
person were forgotten when a pleasant word or a kind look was addressed
to Pauline. It is certainly better not to live in hostility with society, and if
one is so wrong-headed or unfortunate it is very pleasant to make one's
daughter a means of reconciliation.
I have letters from England telling me that the Duchess of Gloucester has
become the happiest person in the world; Lady Georgiana Bathurst is her
lady of honour; she is at home every evening, and her house is the meeting-
place of the high Tories; all the news is to be heard there, and gossip goes
on, with which the Duchess delights the King every morning. The King of
England sees his Ministers only on business, and has no social intercourse
with them. Lord Melbourne does not care or complain, and goes his own
way without worrying the King, which seems to me to be a sound plan.
Yesterday morning, thanks to a special ticket, for which I sent to ask the
Archbishop, I was able to hear the last of the series of lectures given at
Notre-Dame by the Abbé Lacordaire. He is starting for Rome to-day, and
will be absent for two years. There were at least five thousand persons in
the church, nearly all schoolboys and girls. Among the men who came in
with the Archbishop and were favoured with seats on the Banc de l'Œuvre I

recognised the Marquis de Vérac, the Duc de Noailles, and M. de
Tocqueville. I was placed just behind this bench, with some fifty ladies,
none of whom I knew; I was opposite to the pulpit and did not lose a single
word. Imagination, vigour, and a style far removed from that of the
seminary are the distinctive qualities of the Abbé Lacordaire; he is a young
man with a good delivery. His use of metaphor, however, seemed to me to
be slightly confused and somewhat too daring, while his doctrine allowed
no room for the beautiful and humble theory of grace. I think that St.
Augustine, the great apostle of grace, would have found matter for criticism
in his words. On the whole, I was interested and struck with the attentive
attitude of his audience. The Archbishop concluded the lecture with some
suitable words of thanks and farewell to the young preacher, and with a
blessing at once appropriate, simple, and gentle upon the congregation,
which was received with surprising respect by his young hearers. It must be
said that when the Archbishop avoids politics and the commonplaces of the
seminary he can produce, as he did yesterday, a noble and touching effect,
with his fine face and gestures and his appealing tone, in his splendid
cathedral and from his exalted position, whence he looked down upon these
many young faces. M. de Tocqueville, who called upon me towards the end
of the morning, was even then moved by the scene.

Paris, April 13, 1836.—MM. Hyde de Neuville, de Jumilhac, de Cossé,
Jacques de Fitz-James, and de Montbreton have all started for Prague, to
ask Charles X. to give up the Duc de Bordeaux. In the event of a refusal
they have resolved to carry him off, and flatter themselves that they will
have the co-operation of the young Prince in the attempt. They wish to find
a home for him in Switzerland, where he is to be educated, and so brought
nearer to France in every sense of the term. This project, which is in itself
somewhat visionary, is reduced to absurdity by the boasting and gossip with
which it has been announced. Another plan, of which the police have been
informed, is to carry off one of the young princes of royal blood and to keep
him as a hostage. The Minister of the Interior has been somewhat disturbed
by this proposal.

Paris, April 21, 1836.—A courier arrived yesterday from Vienna bringing a
reply conceived in the most gracious terms to the insinuations which have

been made concerning the Duc d'Orléans and his proposed journey in
Austria. All that was avoided under the Duc de Broglie has been welcomed
under M. Thiers, to whom personally the reply referred in very kind terms.
Something of the same kind is now expected from Berlin. The departure of
the Prince and of his brother, the Duc de Nemours, is fixed for May 4, but
the fact will not be announced for another five days, when they will have
returned from Chantilly. The return journey is to be made by Turin. The
Sardinian Court, which feels the want of some support, is inclined, after
much hesitation, to look to France. My son, Valençay, will accompany the
Princes; he will be the only unattached member of their suite with them. It
was proposed to give him a title and an official position, but I objected, as
my son is sure to be well received anywhere.
Yesterday at dinner at the house of M. de Talleyrand a quarrel arose
between M. Thiers and M. Bertin de Veaux, the result of which, I think, has
been the opposite of what was expected: instead of pacific explanations a
duel became the consequence. I was on tenterhooks, and eventually
checked the dissension almost brutally. Every one, I think, approved my
action, which I would have taken earlier if I had not thought that M. de
Talleyrand was the proper person to intervene; he, however, did not even
exert himself to change the conversation. Bertin de Veaux was constantly
aggressive, while Thiers for a long time was perfectly calm, until he grew
excited and angry, and at length they hurled political defiance at one
another.

Paris, April 23, 1836.—Mrs. Norton has written a letter to Mr. Ellice, which
is a kind of manifesto, and has sent it to me with orders to communicate it
to her foreign compatriots. I have read the letter, and, if her words are to be
believed, she emerges from this foul story as pure as Desdemona. [15] I hope
indeed that it is so. The whole business seems to me very vulgar and in very
bad taste.
The Duchesse de Coigny, who has always come to England for her
confinements, in order to ensure the birth of girls, was to start this morning
to London for the same reason, but owing to mistaken calculations she was
yesterday confined of a fine boy, which is a bitter disappointment.

Paris, April 26, 1836.—Visitors returning from Chantilly were most
enthusiastic yesterday about the beauty of the spot, the extensive society to
be found there, the excitement of the races, the brilliancy of the hunt, and,
in the case of those who were at the Château, the graciousness of the Prince
Royal. The English say that apart from the races themselves, which,
however, are by no means bad, these three days at Chantilly are much
superior to Ascot, Epsom, and any meeting of the kind in England.
Hunting was carried on with the pack of the Prince of Wagram, and some
four hundred young men rode out; but only thirty were in at the death of the
stag.
The Prince Royal is to start on the 3rd or 4th, and will go straight to Metz to
visit the School of Artillery; he will not stop at any of the small Courts,
which he proposes carefully to avoid by taking all kinds of unusual routes
under the pretext that they are more direct.
Yesterday I dined with Madame de la Redorte, and met several people,
including General Alava, who told us the story of the duel between
Mendizabal and Isturitz, in which neither combatant received a scratch.
He seemed to expect a Ministerial crisis at Madrid which might affect his
position as ambassador.
Alava is so inclined to exaggerate that when he was at the house of M.
Dupin at a reception of Deputies the host asked him, touching M. Berryer
on the shoulder, whether he knew this Deputy. Alava straightway
exclaimed: "Certainly I know M. Berryer, and I share all his opinions."

Paris, April 27, 1836.—The route of the Prince Royal passes through
Verdun, Metz, Trèves, Düsseldorf, Hildesheim, Magdeburg, Potsdam, and
Berlin. All the Ministers of Saxony, Hanover, and Bavaria have brought
pressing invitations from their Sovereigns asking the Prince to make a stay
with them. These have been declined under the pretext of want of time, but
in reality owing to some ill-feeling caused by the continued affronts and
insults from Munich; if the Prince refused one invitation he obviously could
not accept others without a declaration of hostility. He is sorry, however, to

hurry by Dresden, whence there has never been any cause of complaint.
From Berlin he will proceed to Vienna, by way of Breslau and Brünn.
For some days I have been reading a few volumes of the "Essais de Morale"
by Nicole; our curiosity concerning this work was aroused by Madame de
Sévigné. They are doubtless excellent, but I think one must be somewhat
more advanced than I am to admire them keenly. There is a certain dry
austerity apparent which somewhat repels me. To these many philosophical
arguments I prefer the touching phrase of St. Augustine: "If you are afraid
of God, throw yourself into the arms of God." Eventually, perhaps, I shall
learn to appreciate Nicole, as one's mental tastes change with one's age and
circumstances.

Paris, April 28, 1836.—Pozzo has received the order of St. Andrew in
diamonds, and at the same time unlimited leave of absence to travel in Italy.
I imagine that he will soon pass this way.
The journey of the Prince Royal has been arranged to begin a day earlier,
and he is to start on the 2nd. Berlin will not be reached for ten days, as he is
to put up every night, while each day's journey will not be too long, as they
wish him to arrive fresh and alert and ready to undergo military fatigues, the
manœuvres, festivities, and other duties. This seems to me very sensible.
The Prince Royal has received a formal invitation to the manœuvres at
Berlin. Hence his reception cannot be anything but excellent. The invitation
has certainly been sought, but it is undoubtedly an invitation, and
accusations of importunity or rashness are therefore out of place. The Duc
and the Duchesse d'Angoulême will naturally have left Vienna when the
two Princes arrive there.
Yesterday I accompanied the Comtesse de Castellane to a reading given by
M. de Rémusat upon historical incidents in the style of the "Barricades";
"The Night of St. Bartholomew" was his subject. It was clearly and brightly
treated, and the author assures us that much historical research has been
devoted to it, but it was so long that the second part had to be postponed
until Tuesday. To sit through a reading is an exhausting business.

Paris, May 1, 1836.—Yesterday was Pauline's ball—a pretty scene and
entirely successful. There was no crowd, plenty of light, young and pretty
people in full gaiety, and polite young men acting as partners to the ladies,
all in excellent style and taste, and the company most carefully selected. It
was not exactly exclusive, but the Faubourg Saint-Germain were in
preponderant numbers. My cousin, Madame de Chastellux, for instance,
went to the trouble of coming. In short, I was well pleased with our little
success and with the delight of Pauline.

Paris, May 2, 1836.—Yesterday news arrived from Berlin of the
preparations made to receive the young Princes. The King said that they
should have the kind of reception given to his son-in-law, the Emperor.
They are to stay at the old palace. An hour after their arrival all the princes
will come to pay their first calls; in short, everything is to go off as well as
possible. The Carlist faction is overwhelmed, and the aggressive members
of it are quite ill in consequence; the moderate members are casting tender
glances at the Château des Tuileries, and yesterday M. de Chabrol, formerly
Naval Minister, and M. Mounier went to the Château. M. de Noailles would
be ready to do the same were it not for his wife, whose feelings he has to
consider—and reasonably, for she, though a most worthy person, is very
extravagant in her political ideas.

Paris, May 4, 1836.—Yesterday I went to hear the conclusion of M. de
Rémusat's "Night of St. Bartholomew." [16] It is clever and talented, but I
repeat that this style of performance is a mistake, and a good historical
narrative would be much more interesting to me.
I have seen M. Royer-Collard, and also M. Thiers. The former said that the
doctrinaires were decisively defeated in the Dupin dispute, as the Chamber
had pronounced against them. The second is very pleased with his reports
from the Russian Ambassador and from the Court of St. Petersburg, which
are beginning to become flattering. I believe he is on the way to another
reconciliation which he thinks of more importance, with Bertin de Veaux,
but this is still a profound secret.

Paris, May 6, 1836.—I have been deeply affected by the death of the good
Abbé Girolet. He followed the fine precept of Bossuet, and the only
precaution which he took against the attacks of death was the innocence of
his life, for all his interests were so neglected that he has left me a fine
complication to unravel, which demands my immediate presence at
Rochecotte. I shall start the day after to-morrow, and they are only waiting
for me to take the seals off his property. A will in which he has left me
everything has been found, but where or what may this everything be? This
is as yet unknown, and there is some fear that there may be more debts than
property, which fact would prevent me from beginning the charitable
foundations which I promised to take in hand after his death. I shall find a
very obvious void at Rochecotte, and shall miss that gentle look which
clung so affectionately to me. And then how sad are the details of his death!

Rochecotte, May 10, 1836.—No interesting news can be expected from me
in this retired corner of the world, where I can boast only of peace and
silence and of solitude—three excellent things which I appreciate the more
as I have left, in the words of the "Imitation," "the tumultuous commerce of
men, which arouses vanity even in the simple-minded, and eventually
enslaves the soul."
I spent the evening with M. Vestier, my good architect, over plans and
arrangements for the vault of the Abbé and for my own. This will be
arranged quite simply in the parish cemetery on the hillside before that
beautiful view, in the pure air, looking out upon the rising sun. The vaults
are to be very simply surrounded by shrubs and an iron railing; there will be
nothing more than names and dates. Thus his last resting-place will be as
simple as was his mind, and I trust that mine will be equally so. The wishes
of men are so rarely performed after their deaths that during our lifetime we
should act as far as we can. I had considerable difficulty in inducing Vestier
to undertake this simple work. He says it is horrible to be giving orders for
the digging of my grave, and at length the poor fellow began to weep, but
he yielded at last, for he is very obedient to me. [17]

Rochecotte, May 13, 1836.—Yesterday I received a long letter from my son,
Valençay, from Coblenz. Full honour has been done to the Princes; M. the

Duc d'Orléans has invariably invited to dinner the authorities commissioned
to welcome him. He speaks German with a fluency which is much
appreciated. In every town regimental bands are constantly playing under
the windows of the Princes, and, in short, all due attention is shown to
them.

Valençay, May 18, 1836.—I have been here since the day before yesterday,
and am expecting M. de Talleyrand and Pauline to-morrow.
I have been reading a narrative written by one of the chief nuns of Port
Royal, about the reform of their establishment, which was carried out by the
Mother Marie Angélique de Sainte-Madeleine Arnauld, and about their
persecution, in the time of their celebrated abbess, the Mother Angélique de
Saint-Jean Arnauld, a niece of the foregoing and a daughter of M. d'Andilly.
They were great minds and strong souls, and how remarkable are the details
of the story! What a race were these Arnaulds, and M. Nicole and the Abbé
de Saint-Cyran! All these names are to be found in the writings of Madame
de Sévigné. Her friend, M. de Pomponne, was Arnauld, the son of M.
d'Andilly. This was a peculiar family, even in its own time, and it was said
that Pascal was quite a nonentity compared with Antoine Arnauld. They
must have been giants indeed; and if giants at their time, what would they
seem now?

Valençay, May 22, 1836.—Yesterday I had a letter from my son, Valençay,
from Berlin. He is delighted, and with reason, for apart from the generally
satisfactory character of the journey, he is treated with especial kindness,
which is particularly touching to me as it is due to consideration for myself.
The Prince Royal told him that he had always regarded me as his sister, that
he would treat him as a nephew, and that my letter was delightful. He
objected, however, that there was not enough of the nursery about him. The
Duchess of Cumberland and my godmother, Princess Louise, [18] have been
quite motherly, and the Queen of the Low Countries has also been very
kind, together with M. Ancillon, Herr von Humboldt, and the Countess of
Redern. M. de Valençay assures me that the Crown Prince of Prussia was
neither cold nor repellent in his reception of the Duc d'Orléans, but, on the
contrary, kind and cordial; the Crown Princess and Princess William the

younger were equally charming; every one else behaved very properly, as
also did the sight-seers along the routes, and our Princes showed perfect
prudence. There was some trouble in inducing the young French officers to
take off their Belgian decorations; the Duc d'Orléans was anxious that they
should not wear them at all at Berlin, but they showed some reluctance, and
eventually it was agreed that they should remove them when meeting the
Queen of the Low Countries. [19] A courier came to Berlin with an urgent
letter from the King of Saxony inviting the Princes to pass through Dresden.
I do not know whether that will induce them to change their route. The two
Princes attended service in a Catholic church in Berlin on Sunday, and their
action produced an excellent effect.

Valençay, May 23, 1836.—Yesterday, the Day of Pentecost, was spent as
follows, and will give an idea of our usual mode of life in this place: First of
all came high mass at the parish church, which lasted for two full hours,
thanks to a sermon from the vicar, who took the more pains as he saw me in
the Castle pew. The heat was extreme, and the smell unpleasant, while the
crowd was almost as great as at Saint-Roch. The result for me was a severe
headache, which passed off to some extent during a long drive which I took
with M. de Talleyrand, to the ponds in the Forest of Gâtines. Several people
from the town dined with us. I walked for a little after dinner, while Pauline
went for a drive with her uncle; I wrote until nine o'clock, when the post
goes, and when M. de Talleyrand came in. The day was concluded with
newspapers, tea, and piquet.
These days are very pleasant when I am not alarmed about M. de
Talleyrand's health, and I thank God for them as I go to bed. I no longer
consider the amount of amusement or interest or pleasure to be gained; one
day perhaps that will return; now that M. de Talleyrand and my children are
well and my mind is free from anxiety, and my temper sufficiently kind to
make life pleasant for those around me, I ask for nothing more. When we
are able to perform a complete renunciation of self, we find our burden
lightened, and the low and heavy flight of selfishness is replaced by the
rapid sweep of outstretched wings, which is a pleasure in itself. My courage
and my self-possession only disappear when I see sickness threatening or
striking down my family, for I have only reached the threshold of that stage
of resignation in which one sacrifices one's self to the things of heaven. I

doubt if I shall ever pass within it. But enough of this, or I shall be thought
as religious as a lady of the Faubourg Saint-Germain. I am very far from
that point, which I shall never entirely reach, for my independence will
never allow me to follow the beaten track or confine myself to particular
practices, attitudes, and observances; at the same time, given my natural
taste for good books, the natural seriousness of my mind, my wide
experience, and the sincerity of my judgments upon myself, it will be hard
if I do not learn to draw consolation at least from the one perennial source.
The Carnavalet residence is for sale at a price of a hundred and forty
thousand francs. If I dared, I would buy it, and I am, indeed, extremely
tempted.

Valençay, May 26, 1836.—The correspondence between M. de Talleyrand
and Madame Adélaïde continues animated and very affectionate, and gives
me some work.
The following news reached us from Paris by letters of yesterday's date:
Alava is overthrown, and Miraflores proclaims himself the successor; Alava
says that the affairs of his country reduce him to despair. As a matter of fact
the newspapers mention some strange affairs in the Assembly of the
Procuradores, and great is the confusion caused by the whole business of
the change of Ministry. Some people who declare themselves well
informed, assert that Isturitz, to relieve himself of embarrassment, would be
inclined to come to an understanding with Don Carlos and to arrange a
marriage between Queen Isabella and her cousin.
Lady Jersey has given orders for copies of her correspondence with Lady
Pembroke to be sent to her. It seems that this correspondence is beyond all
that could be imagined in maid-servant style. She also wishes M. de
Talleyrand to read all these details.
I have a letter from Princess Louise of Prussia, my godmother, which
speaks in very high terms of the young French Princes. Princess Louise is a
clever woman, naturally inclined to sarcasm and severity, and her
appreciation is therefore the more valuable. M. de Valençay writes to me
that he has been greatly struck by the beauty of the Princesses, by their
jewels and the elegance of their dress. Herr von Humboldt took the Princes

and their suite to see the museums and the artists' studios. The Crown
Prince of Prussia has a taste for art, and has greatly stimulated these matters
in Berlin. The Duc d'Orléans has given great pleasure by ordering a statue
from Rauch, the chief sculptor in Prussia, and the King's favourite. The
shyness of the Queen of the Low Countries is even greater than that of the
Duc de Nemours. This mutual defect seems to have brought them together,
for I am told that the Queen has conceived a friendship for the young Prince
and that long conversations have taken place between them.

Valençay, May 29, 1836.—Yesterday I read the new play of M. Casimir
Delavigne, Une Famille au Temps de Luther. The work contains some fine
lines, but is quite unsuited for the stage, and nothing is colder than its
theological discussions, even when they conclude with crime; moreover,
these forms of fanaticism are somewhat wearisome, discordant as they are
with the spirit of our time. Finally, the dreadful massacre of St.
Bartholomew has become even tiresome, and the best proof of the fact that
both it and the atrocities of the Atrides have lost their power to thrill, is their
recitation with songs and dances.
Madame Adélaïde informs M. de Talleyrand that the Crown Princess of
Prussia has written to her mother, the Queen-Dowager of Bavaria, saying
that she was forced to agree to the proposal to show honour to the French
Princes, and that a very good friend of Louis-Philippe had advised them to
show themselves in public.
The King of Naples has now left home, some say to marry a princess of
Modena, and others to pay court to the daughter of the Archduke Charles,
and others, again, to have a look at the young princesses of Paris.
The King is having a full-length portrait of François I. painted for Valençay,
and another of the Grande Mademoiselle; the former built the Castle, and
the latter visited it and praised it in her memoirs. The King is also sending
M. de Talleyrand the chair in which Louis XVIII. was wheeled about, and
he has informed us through Madame that if he should go to Bordeaux, as is
possible, he would pass this way.

Valençay, May 31, 1836.—It seems that neither intellect nor years can
shelter people from foolishness, and a great act of folly has been committed
by M. Ancillon in his marriage with Mlle. de Verquignieulle, if what we
hear from Berlin is true. M. de Valençay also informs me that the
entertainment given by M. Bresson, [20] at which the King of Prussia was
present, was a very brilliant affair; all the servants were in full livery, blue,
gold, and red, and Bresson said to him: "These are my colours," an amusing
remark, and one worthy of the present time. "We shall see," as M. de
Talleyrand says.

Valençay, June 1, 1836.—The young French gentlemen who went to Prague
have returned after a very short stay. They were especially struck by the
atmosphere of boredom which is the environment of life in that town. They
said the Duc de Bordeaux had a very pleasant face, but his figure was not
attractive and his mind but little developed, like that of a child brought up in
the midst of old men.
At a dinner given on May 22 to the two French Princes by the Crown Prince
of Prussia, Princess Albert, [21] to the great rage of Bresson, the great disgust
of the King, and the general horror of the company, appeared with an
enormous garland of lilies in her hair; up to that point her behaviour had
been quite proper.
The presents distributed by the Duc d'Orléans at Berlin were most
expensive, and in money and diamonds amounted to more than a hundred
thousand francs. It is rather too much than not enough. Prince Wittgenstein
received a box containing not only the portrait of the Prince Royal, but also
that of the King and Queen—a very marked attention. M. Ancillon,
plastered with the great Cross of the Legion of Honour, swelled himself out
and strutted about, and appeared ready to trample upon any one and every
one. His behaviour is explained by his middle-class origin and his
Calvinistic views.
The parting was affectionate, some professing to love the Princes as their
sons and others as their brothers; in short, no success was ever more
complete. The ladies were all struck with the handsome appearance of the
Duc d'Orléans. My authorities for these statements are reliable, as I quote

not merely M. de Valençay, but other letters which came in yesterday,
written moreover by natives of Berlin. The accident which nearly befell the
Duc d'Orléans at the manœuvres was caused by his politeness to the
Princesses; he was reining in his horse near them, when he was nearly
thrown, but the skill with which he recovered himself gained him many
compliments; and on this question the Duchess of Cumberland writes as
follows: "Imagine what would have become of us if any misfortune had
happened to him; I should be ready to leave my sick body upon my bed and
be changed into a guardian angel to hover over them during their stay at
Berlin, and thus to answer the confidence of your Queen, who begged me in
a charming letter to treat her sons as my own."
Upon the day when our Princes were at home to the Diplomatic Body M. de
Ribeaupierre, the Russian Minister, sent his excuses, alleging a swollen
face. Contrary to the old etiquette of Berlin, the whole of the Diplomatic
Body was invited to a ball at the house of Prince William, the King's
brother. Of this entertainment I am informed: "The ball given to the French
mission by order of the King, Louis-Philippe, was a great success; the
French Princes were so tactful as to do the honours themselves, and
received the King and the Princesses at the foot of the staircase."

Valençay, June 2, 1836.—The Princess de Lieven arrived here yesterday in
a feeble state of health. We took her in and looked after her as well as we
could, but towards the evening I began to feel that she had some
presentiments of a tiresome stay, and that if the journey hither lay before
her at this moment she would hesitate to undertake it. This I can understand.
Here she will have no news and will not be able to see the shadow-show of
life, which are both necessities to her. The novelty of the outer world,
recollections and historical traditions, natural beauties, the domestic life of
a household, reading, thought, and work are by no means to her taste, and in
other respects Valençay has never been more poverty-stricken than at this
moment.
The verses which M. de Peyronnet has sent to me are not very excellent, but
that point is of no account in comparison with the actual circumstance and
the whole question. During the winter I worked pretty hard for these poor
people, and obtained some definite alleviation for M. Peyronnet, who was

the worst of all in health, and this he found very agreeable; I hope that I
may be able to do more for him as soon as the session is over. It was this
charitable work which inspired the verses in question. [22]
My sister writes to me from Vienna saying that great preparations are made
to receive the French Princes, and in particular Paul Esterhazy is working
for that purpose; there will be an entertainment at his house at Eisenstadt.
Unfortunately many people are in the country and many in mourning.

Valençay, June 4, 1836.—We have had two days of bad weather, but
yesterday morning a better prospect fortunately allowed us to take Madame
de Lieven for a drive in the forest and past the warren, the quarries, &c. In
the evening, however, M. de Talleyrand had an attack of palpitation, which
was but slight, though it is evident that the enemy is still there. Madame de
Lieven yawned to desperation. The poor woman is bored, which fact I can
very well understand and pardon. The truth is that, with her frame of mind
and habits, she is not likely to endure our solitude or the dull and quiet
atmosphere of the household which is due to the mental and physical state
of M. de Talleyrand. Moreover, the Princess is not an easy guest from a
material point of view; she has twice changed her room, and now wants to
go back to the first room she occupied, in which is the bed of Madame de
Staël. Lady Holland could not have given us more trouble, and Pauline says
that the Princess is "rather whimsical."
A caricature has appeared in London of Lord Melbourne and Mrs. Norton
on the very day of the eclipse; it represents the sun and Mrs. Norton as the
moon passing over it, while beneath is the word "Eclipse." The reference is
to the scandalous law-suit which Mr. Norton is bringing against his wife,
and in which Lord Melbourne is unpleasantly compromised.

Valençay, June 5, 1836.—The poor Princess de Lieven is greatly bored, and
expresses herself on the subject with strange openness. Yesterday she asked
me, as if she were talking to herself, why we had invited her at a time when
we had no one staying in the house. I began to laugh, and replied very
gently: "But, dear Princess, you yourself were so kind as to ask to come. We
would have invited the whole world, but the session is not yet finished, so

that diplomatists, peers, and Deputies cannot leave Paris." "That is true,"
she replied, and later on, when she saw that M. de Sercey had just arrived at
Paris, she was full of regret that she could not be there to ask him questions;
she also thought her salon would have been very interesting that evening
during the discussion of the foreign service vote. I like straightforward
persons, because with them at any rate one knows exactly where one is.

Valençay, June 10, 1836.—The Princess de Lieven received letters
yesterday from her husband, telling her that she has been represented in a
very bad light to the Emperor Nicholas. Conversations and whole speeches
have been sent to St. Petersburg as though they emanated from the Princess,
which are certainly fictitious, for she is very zealous in her master's service;
but those who talk a great deal and see many people are always
compromised sooner or later. The Princess is greatly agitated in
consequence.
The Prince d'Orange is quite obviously showing signs of madness, which
take the form of such sordid economy that his wife and children have not
even enough to eat; he keeps the key of the pantry himself, and the Princess
has to send out her chambermaid to buy cutlets. The eldest son is said to be
a young scamp. He is now at London with his younger brother, where they
are known as the "unripe Oranges." The Dutch are said to be much
perturbed about the future of their country, and are praying that the life of
the present King may be prolonged.

Valençay, June 13, 1836.—Yesterday I had a long letter from the Crown
Prince of Prussia, with a kind sentence concerning the French Princes and
their father, the King, though with a qualification against revolutions which
shows his true opinion. It is a curious letter. I have had another from M.
Ancillon in most laudatory terms, with no qualification, concerning the
travellers, the union, the peace, and M. de Talleyrand; also a curious letter.
Finally I have two very long letters from M. de Valençay written from
Vienna; he had stopped at Günthersdorf, of which he gives full details. [23]
At Vienna he had seen the Count of Clam at the house of his aunt of Sagan,
from whom he had learnt that the first interview had given great satisfaction
and that our Princes had said everything that was proper. The Archduchess

Sophie spoke very kindly of her remembrance of me and treated my son
very well. He thinks that the Austrian princesses lack that grace and
distinction which is so striking in the princesses of the Prussian royal
family. Princess Metternich was at the first evening reception given by M.
and Madame de Sainte-Aulaire; she behaved most discreetly, and stayed
very late; the Duc d'Orange only talked to her for five minutes, and then
upon the subject of homeopathy! She deserved a small lesson. [24]
The great diplomatic reception of the nobility and the garrison seems to
have been superb. M. de Valençay was especially delighted by the races at
Baden, where he was entertained by the Archduke Charles, who spoke to
him very warmly of M. de Talleyrand. The Archduke received all the
Frenchmen most cordially. They dined with the Archduchess Theresa, who
is described by M. de Valençay as of an agreeable appearance, with pretty
manners, and an attractive face. She is very dark and small. The Duc
d'Orléans was seated near her at dinner, and their conversation was
vivacious. Prince Metternich was also there. He has been reconciled, at any
rate outwardly, with the Archduke. [25] The latter has retired to the pretty
town of Baden, where he grows flowers; he told M. de Valençay that, like
all old soldiers, he loved his garden. The Duc d'Orléans was to dine there
again by himself two days later. The Archduke adores his daughter, and will
leave her free to choose her own husband; she has refused the Crown Prince
of Bavaria, and is to inspect the Kings of Naples and Greece. The Russian
alliance alone causes her father some fears.
M. de Valençay was also delighted with the entertainment at Laxemburg,
and the water-parties, with music everywhere, which reminded him of
Virginia Water. All the society of Vienna was there informally, and the
scene was correspondingly animated.
It is quite clear that all this causes ill-feeling at Prague. The Dauphine was
speaking to some one who asked her, when she was about to start for
Vienna, at what time they would have the honour of seeing her again; she
replied that any one who wanted to see her henceforward would have to
come and fetch her. A Vienna lady, a strong political opponent of France,
said before M. de Valençay, in speaking of our Prince Royal, that he was so
kind and gracious it was to be hoped that he was not something else!

The travellers are to start on the 11th and make their way to Milan through
Verona, devoting ten days to the journey.
The Prince of Capua and Miss Penelope are at Paris. The former has seen
the Queen; he will go to Rome, and there open negotiations for a
reconciliation with Naples.
All the Coburg family and the Belgian King and Queen are coming to
Neuilly.

Valençay, June 17, 1836.—It seems that every day must be marked by some
tribulation. Yesterday evening we had a terrible fright, the consequences of
which might have been most serious; they seem to have been but slight,
though the doctor says that we cannot be certain for nine days that no
internal shock has been sustained. M. de Talleyrand's mania for staying out
late brought him back yesterday in his little carriage when it was pitch-dark;
moreover, he childishly amused himself by steering a zigzag course, so that
he twisted the front wheel. This checked his progress, and he could not
perceive the cause in the darkness, so he told the servant to push harder,
which he did. The result was a violent jolt, which shot him out of the
carriage and threw him head first with his face on the ground upon the
gravel of the Orange Court at the entry of the donjon. His face was badly
bruised, but fortunately his nose bled freely; he did not lose consciousness,
and wished to sit in the drawing-room and play piquet. At midnight he put
his feet in hot mustard and water, and is now asleep. But what a terrible
nervous shock at his age and with his weight, and when he is suffering from
a malady which demands that he should be spared every emotion and
disturbance!

Valençay, June 18, 1836.—M. de Talleyrand's face has suffered
considerably, but otherwise he seems to have escaped miraculously from
this remarkable fall.

Valençay, June 21, 1836. [26]—Do you remember that it was you who
refused any form of conversation upon the subject of religion? Only upon
one occasion at Rochecotte did you give me any outline of your ideas upon

this subject; at that time you were more advanced than myself in respect of
certain beliefs. My experiences since that date have brought me more
rapidly along the road, but my starting-point has been my recollection of
that conversation, in which I saw that you admitted certain fundamental
principles of which I was not sure. In any case, my speculations have not
advanced beyond that point, and only in points of practice do I attempt to
guide my movements by this compass; I have never busied myself with
dogmas or mysteries, and if I prefer the Roman Catholic religion I do so
because I think it most useful to society in general and to States; individual
religion is a different matter, and I think any religion based upon the Gospel
is equally good and divine. Since I have seen all supports falling away
around me, I have felt my own weakness and the necessity of some support
and guide; I have sought and found; I have knocked and it has been opened
to me; I have asked and it has been given to me; and yet all very
incompletely hitherto, for when one thus walks alone and ill prepared it is
impossible to avoid wrong paths, or to avoid slipping in the ruts with
continual stumbles. Nor would it have been wise to arouse myself to
excessive zeal and fervour, which would have prepared a reaction, perhaps
fatal; I therefore advance step by step, and when I consider my progress am
humiliated to see how little I have risen; a little more kindness, patience,
and self-command is all that I have acquired. I have the same delight in the
things that please me, the same repugnance for those that weary me, my
dislikes are not extinct and enmity remains keen, my mental anxiety is often
wearing, my energies are inconsistent, my speech often too hasty and its
expression inconsiderate. I have, too, a thousand modes of self-flattery; I
am wounded by blame, and too pleased by approbation, which I sometimes
seek and would be ready to arouse at necessity; in fact, there is no task so
long and difficult and none that demands more exertion and perseverance
than to satisfy one's conscience.
Apart from the practical methods which I have felt must be followed as a
thread to guide me through the labyrinth, I have also been helped by a great
sense of gratitude. One day in England I was suddenly struck by the thought
of the innumerable favours which had been granted to me, though I had
made so ill a use of my powers and my advantages. I admire the patience of
God and the long-suffering of Providence towards me; to have found what I
have found seems to me so real a blessing and so ill-deserved that it has

filled me with gratitude. This sense has continually increased, and partially
supports me in accomplishing the sacrifices which I am making. The deep
instruction to be daily derived from the old age of M. de Talleyrand; the
death of Marie Suchet; [27] her mother's grief; the successive deaths of so
many of my acquaintances of different ages, sexes, and positions; of the
granddaughter whose eyes I have closed, [28] and who brought death so near
to me; the close reading of good books; the lofty conversation of M. de
Royer-Collard, who is ready to throw aside philosophic doubts and is
slowly succeeding—all these influences have made me consider a thousand
matters hitherto unnoticed, and have directed me towards a lofty and a
certain goal. Such is the story of this side of my life. My attitude, however,
is not that of outward profession, and I can say that I am more advanced in
reality than in form; in the latter respect, I doubt if I shall ever change.
What a long answer this is to one small page of your letter! If it seems to
you too long, say so, and we will reserve all these revelations for evenings
at Rochecotte.
The Duc d'Orléans gives a glowing account of a conversation with Prince
Metternich, by which he was delighted.
The Princesse de Lieven has just gone away, to the general relief. I think
that the Princess and her proud niece [29] came to feel that they had been
somewhat ridiculous here, as they went to some trouble on their last day to
utter innumerable thanks and excuses for the inconvenience they had
caused, &c.

Valençay, June 24, 1836.—How stupid ill-nature is! Madame de Lieven has
been unkind enough to write to Paris groaning and lamenting over the
profound boredom which she felt here, and her correspondents have been
laughing at us or using her words against us; the fact is widely known and
commented upon. Our friends told us of it with great indignation. This
small ingratitude on the part of Madame de Lieven, which apparently arises
on this occasion from want of social experience, is real stupidity; in any
case, I am not surprised; I would have made a bet that it was so; her
weariness was too profound to be concealed, and I clearly saw that the need
of revenge was felt in her correspondence. I do not reproach her for being

bored, for saying so, or even for writing the fact, but for prolonging her stay
here under the pretext of illness. She was afraid of travelling alone, afraid to
be isolated at Baden, and dared not stay longer at Paris, and so she stayed
here, to die of inanition and to rouse our ill-feeling. This did not prevent her
from weeping like a penitent when she went away; her tears were sincere,
for she shed them, not for us, but for herself, her wandering and lonely life.
On that point I am not deceived.
Yesterday I had a letter from M. de Valençay from Leoben. They were very
pleased with Vienna in every respect. However, the Prussian royal family
showed to better advantage than the Imperial royal family. The Prussian
princesses were thought more striking for their youth, their beauty and good
style, and notwithstanding the garland of lilies, which seems to have been
the result of a teasing or coquettish conversation, our Prince Royal and
Princess Albert began an obvious flirtation. The Empress of Austria and the
Duchess of Lucca, her sister, are very beautiful, but in a cold, austere, and
imposing style. Our Princes distributed the same presents at Vienna as at
Berlin, but instead of the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour which was
given to Ancillon, Prince Metternich, who has long possessed all the French
orders, was given a magnificent service of Sèvres china.

Valençay, June 25, 1836.—M. de Barante [30] writes from St. Petersburg
saying that there is great feeling against Madame de Lieven, on account of
her long stay in France. Some ill-temper has also been aroused by the
successful journey of our Princes, but nothing of the kind has been shown
to our ambassador, who is treated personally with great politeness.
It is said that Mrs. Norton was most angry, in the course of the strange trial
—of which Galignani gives a far too detailed account—because the
servants who were called to give evidence said that she rouged and dyed her
eyebrows.

Valençay, June 27, 1836.—Another attempt upon the King's life. [31] What a
dreadful mania it is, and will it be always futile? Such is the sad question
which one cannot help asking. We know nothing yet beyond the news

telegraphed to the centres of the neighbouring departments, whence the
prefects have sent messengers for our information.

Valençay, June 28, 1836.—Our Princes have been told by letter not to
hasten their return on account of the attempt upon the King's life. They
should reach Turin to-day, and are expected at Paris on the 8th. It seems that
Lord Ponsonby [32] has gone mad. He insists upon the dismissal of Reis
Effendi [33] and the chief of the Guard. He has written two notes to the
Ottoman Porte in which he even threatens the Ottoman Empire with
disruption if satisfaction is refused. Admiral Roussin himself writes that
Lord Ponsonby is mad. All the Ministers, including the Russian Minister,
are working to prevent a rupture; the Court of Vienna is explaining the
matter to the English Government in London, and it is hoped that Lord
Ponsonby will be recalled.

Valençay, June 29, 1836.—Yesterday I had a letter from our travellers,
dated from Roveredo, where they were detained by the indisposition of the
Duc de Nemours. It was a somewhat serious attack, of which they made
light in their letters to his parents, but which greatly frightened the Duc
d'Orléans. He was also greatly vexed by the hurried departure of General
Baudrand. It seems that this departure was provoked not so much by the
necessity of a rapid journey to the waters as by some ill-temper at the fact
that the Prince Royal did not show sufficient confidence in him.
The Princes were about to make their way to Florence, as the Grand Duke
of Tuscany had been especially pertinacious in asking for a visit, but the
illness of the Duc de Nemours stopped their journey. They have met the
Archduchess Marie Louise, [34] cousin-german of our Prince Royal. She
asked M. de Valençay for news of us, as she is his godmother. He thought
she was not so aged as she has been described. They have also seen the
Princess of Salerno and the King of Naples. The latter is described as
having a fine head, but a coarse and clumsy figure. He is in despair at the
death of his wife, with whom he lived on very bad terms until she was with
child, in giving birth to whom she died. He is said to be very whimsical.

The Archbishop of Paris was at Neuilly at eleven o'clock on the day when
the King's life was attempted. It is unfortunate that he can never appear
before the King except immediately after an attempt at assassination, and I
therefore think that his visits are not very popular, as they are made under
conditions with which one would readily dispense. He refused to admit the
body of Sieyès to the church, and it was taken straight to the cemetery. [35]
My deepest grief concerning the attempted assassination of the 25th is that I
fear the pistol-shot has killed our Princess Royal. Many say that Alibaud is
another Louvel, an isolated fanatic, a natural product of newspaper
extravagances and bad teaching. The King wishes to pardon the assassin,
but it is thought that the Cabinet will not suffer him to do so. General
Fagel [36] has been at Neuilly, notwithstanding the presence of the Belgian
King and Queen; the King treated him very kindly.

Valençay, July 5, 1836.—My chambermaid's serious illness forces me to
wait upon myself. I have felt a little awkward, but shall get used to it. It is
not always pleasant, but it is useful, and I do not complain. I have, indeed,
my moments of discouragement, but then I chide myself and it passes away.
At times great nervous fatigue results from want of practice, but this will
disappear, for we are not upon earth to amuse ourselves, or to rest, or to be
well and happy and comfortable; that is our chief illusion; we mistake our
object, and are then angry that we do not attain it; if we tell ourselves that
the object of life is work, struggle, and sacrifice we avoid
misunderstandings and escape the most painful of fates.
The examination of Alibaud will not be printed; so much the better, as all
this is bad food for public curiosity. Yesterday I had a letter from the Duc de
Noailles, who is one of the judges; he told me that the crime was obviously
prompted by want. As the man had not a halfpenny he wished to kill
himself, but he thought his death should be made interesting and useful.
Such is the influence of bad teaching derived from the republican age and
society in which he has lived. He is not a gloomy fanatic like Louvel, nor a
modern Erostratus like Fieschi, but is merely a beggar of considerable self-
possession and badly brought up.

All the newspapers, Carlist, Radical, and Moderate, are greatly vexed by the
mandate of the Archbishop of Paris. To appear at Neuilly is too much for
some; unwillingness to use the term "the King" in the mandate is a platitude
which does not deceive others and irritates many; the Jesuitical and
equivocal phrase at the end is thought very pitiable. In short, the outcry is
general and deserved. I am sorry, for at bottom he is a man not without
good qualities, but with a deplorable want of tact.
I have a letter from M. de Valençay written from Milan; the horseraces in
the arena, where twenty-five thousand people collected, and the
illumination of the theatre of La Scala were admirable.
The Mayor of Valençay came to consult M. de Talleyrand about an address
to be presented to the King concerning the last attempt upon his life, and
begged M. de Talleyrand to draw it up. He commissioned me with the task.
Here it is, as it has been passed and as it was sent to Paris yesterday. To fall
from diplomatic to municipal language is a great proof of decadence. That
at any rate is what little Fontanes of Berry has produced, and of all the
addresses drawn up on this occasion it is undoubtedly the most monarchical
both in form and substance.
"Sire,

"With the confidence of children, the respect of subjects, and the
gratitude of the friends of true liberty, the inhabitants of
Valençay venture to place at the foot of the Throne the
expression of their delight at the miraculous preservation of the
sacred person of the King and their wishes for the permanent
happiness of the Royal Family. Insignificant and remote as is the
quarter of your realm whence these loving hearts yearn towards
your Majesty, your goodness is our guarantee that our token of
respect will be indulgently received. Our town, moreover, is not
without its claims upon the interest of the King, and the claim
which we are most pleased to assert is the honour which we
have had in receiving His Royal Highness Monseigneur the Duc
d'Orléans, and the recollection of the kindness which he has
shown amongst us," &c. &c.

Then follow the signatures of the Municipal Council, including that of M.
de Talleyrand.

Valençay, July 10, 1836.—My son, Valençay, arrived yesterday; he told us
nothing new about his travels, and only confirmed his previous letters. We
have also the Prince de Laval, by whom M. de Talleyrand is wearied to
death, and with good reason. At Paris the Prince is tolerable, and sometimes
even amusing, but in the country his want of judgment and his
snobbishness, which induces him to say, for instance, that the orange-tree,
pruned, clipped short, and planted in a box, is the aristocracy of nature, his
continual practice of asking questions, of stammering and spitting before
one's face, and always looking on the insignificant side of things, are most
wearing; and he does not say a word of his departure.
The Duc d'Orléans writes to say that only for reasons of state would he be
sorry not to marry the daughter of the Archduke Charles, for her attractions
for him are entirely moral; in person he thinks her, if not ugly, yet
insignificant, and he is not attracted. In any case, the father and daughter
readily assent to the proposal of marriage; the Emperor of Austria says
nothing; but his brother the Archduke Francis Charles and his sister-in-law
the Archduchess Sophie say "No."

Valençay, July 13, 1836.—Yesterday evening we had a visit from the Duc
Decazes [37] and the Comte de la Villegontier, who stopped for tea on their
way to their foundry at Aveyron. M. Decazes was sad and sorrowful
concerning the King's dangers and the open sores in society, as revealed by
the trial of Alibaud. He also complains, and with reason, of the organisation,
or rather the non-organisation, of the police. He says that the King alone has
preserved his calm and presence of mind, but that around him all are sad,
anxious, and agitated, and that the Queen and Madame are very unhappy.
Marshal Lobau has persuaded the King that the National Guard would take
it ill if his Majesty did not review them on the 28th of this month. He will
therefore pass under the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile, where the National
Guard will march before him. But this is too much. The July festivals will
be confined to the opening of the Arc de Triomphe, and the Obelisk from

Luxor will be unveiled. No further commemoration would be required, in
my opinion.
Alibaud yielded to the exhortations of the Abbé Grivel. He confessed, and
therefore has repented. On the scaffold he kissed the crucifix before the
people, but when one of the servants took away his black veil he flew into a
rage and turned suddenly round to the multitude, red in the face, crying, "I
die for my country and for liberty," and then he submitted.
M. Decazes also told us that every day brought him anonymous letters,
denunciations, and revelations, and that it was impossible to get a moment's
peace. He left me in profound sadness.

Valençay, July 16, 1836.—The Prince de Laval, who is still here, admiring
everything and evidently well pleased in spite of our political differences,
has a certain form of wit which consists in saying smart and clever remarks
now and then, but these are wanting in taste and balance. His class
snobbishness recalls that of M. Saint-Simon, his caste prejudice is carried to
a ridiculous point, his curiosity and gossip are unexampled, and his
selfishness and absorption in his own importance and amusement are
inconceivable; he advances every claim on his own behalf, and is therefore
unbearable when taken seriously. Taken the other way, there is something to
be got out of him, the more so as, though he is a tease, he is not ill-
tempered, and the very extravagance of his poses forces him to live up to
them.
The Duc de Noailles, whom we also expect here to-day, is very different; he
is reasonable, self-possessed, cold, polite, and reserved, asking no
questions, never chattering nor wearying anybody; but though he is
unpretentious his claims to consideration are none the less real, and he is
absorbed, first of all by his position as a great lord, and then as a politician.
His position as a man of fashion and fortune, of which Adrien de Laval
boasts his past possession, as they are now gone, has no attraction for him. I
might even say that if M. de Laval is a quondam young man, the Duc de
Noailles is an old man before his time. He is only thirty-four or thirty-five,
but his face, his manners, and his life in general make him appear fifty.

Paris, July 27, 1836.—I think more and more of the Duc de Noailles. He is
a man of good judgment, sound taste, with a sense of honour and excellent
manners. He is also dignified and possessed of common sense, while his
goodwill is valuable, and his high position may be useful in the world in
which he is a figure. But my high opinion of his good qualities and the
value which I set upon his goodwill and friendship do not prevent me from
seeing his pretentiousness. His chief ambition is political, and is not,
perhaps, sufficiently supported by the ease of temperament which is quite
indispensable at the present time. The whole family has remained what it
was two hundred years ago. The Noailles are rather illustrious than ancient,
rather courtiers than servants, but servants rather than favourites, intriguers
rather than ambitious, society people rather than lords, snobs rather than
aristocrats, and above all and before all, Noailles. I know the whole of the
family existing at the present time; the best and most capable of them is
undoubtedly the Duc, whom I judge perhaps somewhat severely, but for
whom I have always a real esteem.
I left Valençay the day before yesterday at six o'clock in the morning; my
dear Pauline was very sad at being left behind; I slept at Jeurs with the
Mollien family, reaching their house at eight o'clock in the evening, and
arrived here in pretty good time. I found M. de Talleyrand in fairly good
health, but much disturbed by the state of affairs. The King will not be
present at to-morrow's review, and has given it up because of a discovery
that fifty-six young people have sworn to kill him. As it was impossible to
arrest these fifty-six, it has been thought more advisable to abandon the
review. In what times we live!
The death of Carrel [38] has also thrown a gloom over us. He made many
mistakes, but his mind was distinguished and his talent remarkable. Even
M. de Chateaubriand, the author of the "Génie du Christianisme," wept as
he walked in the funeral procession of the man who refused to see a priest
and forbade the holding of any Church ceremony at his funeral. The desire
to produce an effect usually ends in some loss of taste and propriety in the
most essential details.
Affairs in Spain are going very badly. The supporters of intervention are
growing active, and many of them are influential and leading spirits, but the
supreme will is in active opposition to them.

During my journey yesterday I was in very good company, with Cardinal de
Retz, whose memoirs I have taken up again; I had not read them for many
years, and then at an age when one is more attracted by the facts and the
anecdotes than by the style or reflections. The style is lively, original,
strong, and graceful, while the reflections are thoughtful, judicious,
elevating, striking, and abundant. What a delightful book, and what insight,
and often more than insight, in judgment, if not in action! He was a political
La Bruyère.

Paris, July 28, 1836.—Yesterday the Duc d'Orléans came to see me. He is
in very bad health and somewhat melancholy; he too is obliged to take an
infinite number of precautions which sadden his life. The King had resolved
to go to the review, but was at the same time so convinced that he would be
killed that he made his will, and gave full orders and directions to his son
concerning his accession to the throne.
At the end of the morning I also had a call from M. Thiers, who was very
pleased with the news he had just received from Africa, with the political
situation at home and abroad, and, in short, with everything, apart from the
great and continual dangers which threaten the King's life. There were to
have been several attempts upon the King's life on the day of the review;
these attempts were to be organised separately and without connection. One
was to be delivered by a group of men disguised as National Guards, who
were to fire a volley of twenty shots at the King as he passed, one of which
would certainly have found its mark. Two of the young men who have been
arrested—and the arrests amount to more than a hundred—have already
made important confessions. Yesterday morning a man was arrested in
whose house was found a machine like Fieschi's, but more perfect and
smaller in compass, with more accuracy and certainty in its working.

Paris, July 29, 1836.—Yesterday evening I was with the Queen. She
seemed quite natural in manner, though she said very bitterly: "We can
testify to ourselves that we are entirely upright, and yet we are forced to live
amid terrors and with the precautions of tyrants." Madame Adélaïde urges
her not to sadden the King's temper. He was with his Ministers, and did not
come in till later. His manner was quite ordinary, but his features bear the

mark of gloomy thoughts; the greatest vexation he ever experienced in his
life was his inability to go to the review. Moreover, he thinks that his days
are numbered, for the day before yesterday, when taking leave of the Queen
of the Belgians, who was returning to Brussels, he told her that he would
not see her again. The young queen was in ill-health, and nothing was more
heartrending than their farewells. Poor people!
A remarkable fact which is vouched for by all the officers of the legions of
the National Guard is that during the last fortnight a number of unknown or
notorious people, such as Bastide, and others, have put down their names on
the rotas of the National Guard and take sentry duty; this was in order that
they might find a place in the ranks which were to march before the King
upon the day of the review.
Nothing sadder can be conceived than the Tuileries. I stayed there two
hours with an inexpressible sinking of heart, a melancholy and an
inclination to weep which I could hardly restrain, especially when I saw the
King. I shall start early to-morrow morning for Valençay.

Chartres, July 31, 1836.—I left Paris yesterday, but much later than I
intended, as the Duc d'Orléans sent word that he wished to speak with me
again. I cannot say how much I have been touched by his perfect kindness
to me. He came to see me every day, and showed that he counted me as his
best friend—and he is certainly not mistaken. He has made remarkable
progress in every respect, and if heaven preserves him to us I am sure that
his reign will be brilliant. I hope that a good marriage will clear our political
horizon, which is very dark.
What is his marriage to be? That question will be decided next week, for I
think that he certainly will marry; circumstances make it entirely necessary
to consolidate and strengthen that which crime threatens and attacks daily,
and a continuation of the line becomes even more important than the
greatness of the alliance. The latter, however, is not to be despised. Search
is made, but if no success results the only object will be to find a wife who
can bear fine children, without any idea of a morganatic marriage, which is
not required for many sound reasons, any more than a marriage with any
member of the Bonaparte family. Religion is a matter of no consequence. It

is absolutely necessary to deliver Paris from the mournful condition into
which it has fallen. I know the French, and if they are shown a young and
engaging bride they will be delighted, while the foreign political world will
perhaps be more considerate to us when it has no further matrimonial snare
to spread before us.
Yesterday I stayed a few minutes at Versailles with Madame de Balbi, and a
few minutes more at Maintenon, with the Duchesse de Noailles. I am now
starting for Châteaudun, and shall go on from thence to Montigny, where I
have promised to visit the Prince de Laval.

Montigny, August 1, 1836.—I left Chartres after hearing mass in the
cathedral, which, as far as I could see, has not suffered from the fire. [39] The
wood- and lead-work have gone, but as the vaulting within, which was
made of stone, has not suffered, nothing is to be seen from within the
church. The work of repair is now in progress.
I stopped at Châteaudun in order to go over the whole of the old castle,
including the kitchens and the dungeons. Though greatly ruined, some
beauties yet remain, and the view is splendid. The Prince de Laval came to
meet me, and brought me here in his carriage. He is making a charming
spot here, arranged with good taste, care, and magnificence. The situation is
beautiful, and the Gothic part of the castle has been well preserved and
carefully restored. The castle would give a very good idea of the owner to
anybody who did not know him. I must admit my astonishment at the fact
that the spot could have been arranged as it was by Adrien de Laval; the
truth is that he has an excellent architect; and then the Baron de
Montmorency has arranged the court, and has had several consultations
with me concerning the arrangement of the rooms, for this is not my first
visit. In short, it is charming, and though things are much better at
Rochecotte, there are some here which outrival ours. In respect of size and
proportion the two places can be well compared.

Valençay, August 2, 1836.—I have now returned to my lair, and am
delighted to be far from the uproar of Paris, but I should like time for a
good rest, whereas M. de Talleyrand has also just come with people who are

to surround us from to-day. If I could choose a coat of arms which really
meant something I should prefer a stag at bay with the dogs around him.
It is impossible to be more hospitable than M. de Laval has been, and I am
slightly ashamed of the small ingratitude of which I may be guilty in
relating one of the most ridiculous affairs which I know. Adrien possesses
the order of the Holy Ghost, which is no longer worn; he had several
medallions, and will any one guess what he has done with them? He has
had them sewn on the middle of one of the velvet counterpanes which cover
the chief beds in the castle. I was never more surprised than to wake up in
the morning and find a large inscription of the Holy Ghost across my figure.

Valençay, August 6, 1836.—I have a letter from M. de Sainte-Aulaire, dated
July 22, from Vienna, which begins as follows: "I am now writing to you, as
this letter will be taken by a courier who will start in two days and tell the
Ministry I really do not know what. The attempted assassination by Alibaud
has evoked unexpected manifestations of interest for the King here, and
wishes no less sincere for his accomplishment of the great work with which
Providence has entrusted him; but we need not be surprised that this
incident has also increased the terror which is felt or which people seek to
rouse concerning the condition of Paris. 'Everything comes to him who
waits.' On this condition I would have answered for his success, but it is one
of the cases where people will not wait, and possibly with reason." This
letter from M. de Sainte-Aulaire must have come by the courier who
brought the important answer concerning the proposed marriage between
the Duc d'Orléans and the Archduchess Theresa; hence this answer must
have arrived at Paris, and I am the more inclined to think that it has been
received, as Madame Adélaïde informs M. de Talleyrand that her nephew
will write to him personally upon his own affairs. It is from no curiosity, but
with a keen desire to see the fate of the young Prince happily settled, that I
impatiently await his letters. I should also like to see the King of Naples
make one of our princesses his queen.

Valençay, August 7, 1836.—By way of continuing the quotation which I
gave yesterday from M. de Sainte-Aulaire's letter, I will say that the reply
has been received and that it has been unfavourable. I am sorry, for our

sakes, but if it is a setback to our Prince Royal I regard it as possibly a
political error on the part of those who have declined. Their repentance may
yet be speedy, for the incident may change the appearance of the world and
bring once more into opposition the two forces which were inclined to
amalgamate.

Valençay, August 9, 1836.—Yesterday at lunch-time we saw our cousins
arrive, the Prince de Chalais and his brother. [40] The former, in my opinion,
has the most charming face that I know, a fine figure and noble manners. I
talked a great deal with him, as he did not leave until after dinner. He has
sound sense, simplicity of mind, uprightness of heart, curiosity upon useful
matters, and a sensible and reasonable interest in everything that can
strengthen the fine position of a great landowner.
I am informed that the decree which is to liberate the prisoners of Ham has
been signed. I am truly pleased to hear it, as I have worked hard to secure it.
They are not given full liberty, but a change of residence with some
relaxations preparatory to full freedom, which will allow them to recover
their shattered health more readily and under better conditions.
Every one is well pleased at Neuilly with the King of Naples. Our King has
been much worried by people who would like him to intervene beyond the
Pyrenees, against his wish, but hitherto he resists vigorously. This mental
anxiety, together with the precautions which people wish to impose upon
him to secure his safety, is poisoning his life.

Valençay, August 11, 1836.—M. de Talleyrand is informed that the Spanish
problems, which are growing more and more acute, are causing bitterness at
Paris, where nothing of the kind should exist—namely, between the King
and his Minister of Foreign Affairs, [41] who is supported by the Prince
Royal, as these two men are anxious for intervention. We may wonder who
will emerge victorious from this domestic struggle.

Valençay, August 22, 1836.—I can well understand the reflections made
concerning the Grand Duchess Stephanie of Baden; her want of tact is due
to her early education. She was brought up in a pretentious boarding-

school, [42] where she learnt much except that exquisite sense of propriety
which may be transmitted hereditarily or implanted in youth but can never
be taught. For instance, she asked M. Berryer to a ball at her house, though
he had not been introduced and had not asked for an introduction. Then she
talks too much, as a rule, and attempts to bring herself into notice by
conversational brilliancies which are not always properly calculated or
adapted to her position. Princesses are not obliged to be kind; they must,
however, be obliging and dignified; but to understand the limits of propriety
and not to go beyond them they must have acquired certain habits from
infancy; here the Grand Duchess Stephanie was wanting, and Madame
Campan has not been able to amend the defect. I believe her to be at bottom
an excellent person. Her life shows devotion and courage in the misfortunes
through which she has passed with great credit. I think that Madame de
Lieven, who criticises her so severely, would not emerge so unscathed from
the crises caused by her difficult position with respect to her husband. The
Grand Duchess had a nice manner and a pretty, alert, and graceful bearing;
she needed youth, and as she lost youth her defects became more obvious.
This, unfortunately, is every one's case, and for that reason it is wrong to
say that people are too old to amend; on the contrary, when charm passes
away it is most essential to replace it by capacity; charm of youth calls forth
indulgence and provides excuses which disappear with those charms and
graces, and are replaced by a severity of judgment which can only be
opposed by more self-control, more self-renunciation, and more self-
respect.
We are officially informed that the refusal from Vienna was expressed in
polite terms, but no reason was given. The possibilities of Princess Sophia
of Würtemburg have not been considered, in spite of what people say. Our
Prince Royal has started for the country, somewhat thin and changed, but
entirely convalescent.
From Madrid we hear that Isturitz has resigned. Calatrava takes his place as
President of the Council. Everything is going very badly.
The King of Naples starts for Toulon on the 24th, and goes, as he came,
unmarried.

The ex-Ministers are still prisoners at Ham, in consequence of difficulties
which have arisen among the Ministers in power. The Minister of the
Interior wishes to keep the prisoners under his supervision, and the
President of the Council wishes them to remain in the fortresses, under the
milder regulations, but in military strongholds; but so long as they are there,
the Minister of War claims supervision over them. It is quite time that this
treatment came to an end, for the unhappy people are ill.
Madame Murat has obtained permission to spend a month at Paris. She will
arrive in a week, and is said to be taking no part in her brother's intrigues.
Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de Lieven, who announces her return
to Paris as a positive fact. I am afraid she may be making a great mistake.
Yesterday I had a letter from St. Petersburg in which she is said to be in
very bad odour at Court. On the other hand, M. de Löwe-Weimar is very
well treated at Court, and poses as an aristocrat. Horace Vernet is also
spoiled and petted in a most inconceivable manner. Why, in view of that,
should Madame de Lieven be thus harassed? Can it be that she is suspected
of being something of an intriguer? The English are certainly right to
include the capacity of keeping quiet among a person's best qualities.

Valençay, August 24, 1836.—I have a comical and unexpected piece of
news to the effect that M. Berryer has been playing in a vaudeville at Baden
with Madame de Rossi. This must be a strange occupation for a politician,
but it is better for him than bad company in Switzerland. Yesterday the
newspapers announced the death of M. de Rayneval [43] at Madrid. This will
increase the difficulty of a question which is complicated enough already.

Valençay, August 27, 1836.—We have no details from Paris, but obviously
some Cabinet crisis is in preparation. Meanwhile M. Thiers seems to have
been anxious to involve the King in the Spanish difficulty against his wish,
and to have acted for that purpose without consulting his colleagues. The
result has been a considerable amount of ill-feeling which is difficult to
quell, and should lead in a few days either to the submission of Thiers to the
King or to the formation of a new Ministry, which, however, would contain

some members of the present Cabinet, and in particular, I think, M. de
Montalivet. All this is a matter of speculation, for we know nothing definite.

Valençay, August 28, 1836.—A letter from Madame Adélaïde yesterday
informed M. de Talleyrand as follows: "The Ministry is dissolved, to my
profound regret. I am especially sorry for Thiers, but he was obstinate upon
the question of intervention in Spain, and this has spoiled everything. The
King wished to disband the new body that was formed at Bayonne, and
demanded a formal undertaking that there should be no question of
intervention hereafter; Thiers refused, and resigned. Any Ministerial crisis
at this moment is very vexatious, for we have so small a circle from which
we can choose. The King has sent for M. Molé, but he was in the country.
He will require time to come, and no doubt he will ask for Guizot. It is all
very distressing, and we know by experience how long and difficult is the
task of forming a new Cabinet. Pity me, for I am heartbroken!" Such was
the position of affairs the day before yesterday in the immediate
neighbourhood of the crisis. I am very sorry it should have occurred, in the
first place because I have a real interest in Thiers, and because I regret that
his revolutionary instincts should have overcome his devotion, his gratitude,
and the recognition which he owed to the great wisdom, the prudence, and
the long experience of the King. Moreover, constant changes of Ministry
are Governmental misfortunes and shake public opinion too frequently;
besides, Thiers' dexterity, alertness, and promptitude, apart from his energy
and his intellect, are useful to the State. What use will he make of these
powers when he has full liberty of action? Madame Adélaïde, as the extract
from her letter shows, has no great love for the Doctrinaires, but it is
inconceivable that M. de Broglie should be recalled, with whom M. Guizot
considers that he has settled accounts for ever. Apart from these
disadvantages, I think it is obviously beneficial for the King to have given a
fresh proof that on questions of real importance he cannot be shaken and
will not be driven into action against his wish. Thus in February he resisted
the arrogance of the Doctrinaires, and has now overthrown the infatuation
of Thiers. This seems to be a fair warning for the future Ministry, whatever
its political colouring, and an excellent guarantee to all right-thinking men
in Europe.

Valençay, August 29, 1836.—M. de Talleyrand ought to regard the accidents
that happen to him without disastrous results as a guarantee that his life is
certainly assured, and in my place I think that this warning would rather
turn my thoughts upon what they portend and induce me to thank God for
the respite granted to lighten our burden of responsibility. Sometimes he
reflects upon death, but not often. Yesterday evening there was a violent
storm which threatened the Castle. After a loud clap of thunder he asked me
what I had been thinking of at that moment, and I immediately replied: "If a
priest had been in the room I should have confessed myself, for I am afraid
of sudden death. To die unprepared and to carry with me my heavy burden
of sin is a terrifying prospect, and however careful one may be to live well
we cannot do without reconciliation and pardon." M. Cogny, our doctor,
who was there, and who is terribly afraid of thunderstorms, added
somewhat foolishly that he was performing an act of contrition at every
flash. M. de Talleyrand said nothing at all, and we went on playing piquet. I
take every opportunity of strengthening my belief, and thus attempting to
arouse his, but never until I have an opening. In such a matter a light touch
is indispensable.
Yesterday I had a long, interesting letter from the Duc d'Orléans, and a
letter which I think the more satisfactory as he has returned to more
reasonable opinions upon the Spanish question. His opinion of the
Ministerial crisis corresponds entirely with my own. I have also a letter
from M. Guizot written from Broglie on August 24. When writing he had
no news of the resignation of Thiers, which took place on the 25th. He
informs me that he has just bought a small estate near Lisieux and is going
to turn farmer. [44] I presume that I shall next hear that he has left the plough
to resume the pen and speechifying.

Valençay, September 1, 1836.—I am strongly inclined to accede entirely to
the opinion concerning the Emperor Nicholas which states that the only
royal quality in his possession is personal courage. His chief deficiency
seems to me to be that of intelligence, not only in conversation and
judgment, but in general.
M. de Montessuy, who accompanied M. de Barante to an entertainment at
Peterhof and passed the night there, writes that he saw the Empress at a

distance in the gardens and respectfully withdrew, but that in the evening
she reproached him for so doing, saying that she had come down in order to
speak to him and that it was wrong of him to avoid her. All this story seems
to me to be very unlikely.
Madame Adélaïde writes to M. de Talleyrand on August 30 that nothing has
yet been done with regard to the Ministry. M. Molé has opened
communications with MM. Guizot and Duchâtel, both of whom have
arrived at Paris, but unanimity between them is rendered difficult by their
respective sense of dignity. The King and Madame seem greatly to regret
their forced separation from the retiring Ministers and the necessity of
calling in others.

Valençay, September 3, 1836.—Yesterday I learned a piece of news which
is causing me much anxiety and is likely to involve me in embarrassment:
the death of my man of business in Germany, Herr Hennenberg, who died at
Berlin on August 23. I am thus obliged to replace a most upright and
capable man, a strong and respected character who had full knowledge for
twenty-five years not only of my business, but of all my intimacies, past
and present, who has thrown himself heartily into every interest of my life
and performed immense services, and, in spite of the many pecuniary
shocks which I have experienced, has restored my fortunes and brought
them to visible prosperity, often to my own astonishment. He was, in short,
a man to whom I had entirely handed over the control of my affairs, as,
indeed, was necessary, in view of the long distance which separates me
from the centre of my interests. Such a man cannot be replaced by
correspondence or blindly, nor can I remain in uncertainty and unsettlement
for any length of time without suffering incalculable loss. Hence a journey
to Germany seems an absolute necessity; but, on the other hand, how can I
leave M. de Talleyrand alone in view of the present state of his health? It is
not to be thought of, and I pray that Providence may deliver me from this
inextricable complication.
Letters from Paris say that attempts to form a Ministry are so many
successive failures, that the King is growing tired of it, and that Thiers is
beginning to say that Spain is past all remedy. Perhaps they will end in
patching the matter up, but the shock that each party has received will

weaken their harmony, apart from the paralysing sense of mistrust and
rancour which will remain. It is all very sad.

Valençay, September 4, 1836.—We have letters daily from Paris, but no
word regarding any solution of the difficulty. Yesterday I thought the breach
might be healed; I am less inclined to think so to-day. It is even possible
that the journey to Fontainebleau may take place before the reconstruction
of the Cabinet. M. Thiers would like to start for Italy, to which the King has
replied that his resignation will be accepted only when he has nominated a
successor. Molé and Guizot are possibilities which seem to be exhausted
without result.

Valençay, September 7, 1836.—We are told that the Moniteur of to-day will
contain the names of a Guizot-Molé Ministry, recruited entirely from
among the Doctrinaires under the influence and by the efforts of M. Guizot.
I had a letter from M. Thiers yesterday, and am sorry to see some ill-temper
displayed against all who do not share his ideas about that wretched
Spanish question. In particular he thinks that the signatories to the
Quadruple Alliance should have agreed with him. This remark is addressed
to M. de Talleyrand, who proposes to reply that a fresh reading of the treaty
will show that it was drawn up in such a way that France is not under
obligation in any direction. M. Guizot persisted in objecting to the retention
of M. de Montalivet as Minister of the Interior, and as the latter thought it
inconsistent with his dignity to leave this post for another, as Guizot had
proposed, he has resigned, to the King's great regret, and will go to Berry,
where he has property. Sauzet and d'Argout are said to be going to Italy,
once the refuge of dethroned Sovereigns and now the inevitable
touringground of ex-Ministers.
The following fact is certain: On the 4th of this month information was
received that the Société des Familles, the most numerous and best
organised of secret societies at this time, proposed to make some attempt to
raise a public disturbance. Their intention was perfectly clear; the fear of
discovery doubtless prevented them from putting it into effect. They
proposed to advance upon the prison where the political prisoners are
confined, to set them at liberty, to seize the Prefecture of Police, and thence

to march upon Neuilly. The Ministers assert that their intentions were quite
serious.

Valençay, September 9, 1836.—The newspapers are already declaring a
terrible war upon the new Ministry, which will be settled before the
Chambers. [45] The Opposition journals predict a breach in the Cabinet,
which seems a not unlikely possibility. Then perhaps we shall see M. Thiers
return to the head of affairs, but with a certain opposition to confront him,
after making war upon a system which he had long supported and entering
into obligations with men inclining to the Left, in which case he would be
likely to draw the Government into dangerous paths. I do not really know,
but in general things seem to me to be growing dark. In any case it is fair to
recognise that the new Ministerial combination can display to the country
and abroad honourable names, distinguished talent, and recognised
capacity. Let us hope, then, that it may rest upon a solid basis. Eight or ten
days before the last crisis M. Molé, after a considerable silence, wrote a
very sprightly letter to M. Royer-Collard and to myself.

Valençay, September 10, 1836.—Yesterday M. de Talleyrand received a
nice deferential little note from M. Molé upon his accession to the Ministry.
The burden of the letter was as follows: As the new Cabinet had been
formed upon a question and with ideas which M. de Talleyrand had wisely
made his own, the new Ministers might congratulate themselves upon his
approval, and for himself he trusted that it might be so, as he relied upon M.
de Talleyrand's counsel and opinion. M. de Talleyrand immediately replied.
It is not my business to praise the answer, but I think it should please M.
Molé, though he will find no criticism in it of the man whose place he takes.
M. de Talleyrand may regret the blindness of M. Thiers upon the Spanish
question, but it is not for him to blame M. Thiers in definite terms, as he has
long shown and felt goodwill for him.

Valençay, September 11, 1836.—I shall not quote Madame de Lieven as
testifying to the accuracy of the story told by M. de Montessuy, [46] but I
admit that I cannot understand so strange an incident. If one of our
princesses or our Sovereign had so acted, a revolutionary interpretation

would immediately have been put upon it at St. Petersburg, and if the
Emperor Nicholas admits Horace Vernet, and especially M. de Löwe-
Weimar, to his favour, his intimacy, and his confidence, I do not see why
the King should be reproached for dining at the Tuileries with his National
Guards. The truth is, Louis-Philippe cannot use the knout or Siberia, which
are two stern precautions against familiarity, though it is fortunate for each
of us that these weapons are not in his hands; in Russia, neither age nor sex
nor rank nor merit is any protection.
I have a letter from M. Guizot couched in most sprightly terms, telling me
of his entrance to the Council. The friendship of the King for M. de
Talleyrand and the confidence with which he honours him forbid any
Minister to be on bad terms with him; our intentions are identical, so that
between ourselves and these gentlemen all should go well.
I have a long letter from the Comte Alexis de Saint-Priest from Lisbon. He
writes from time to time, though I only send short dry notes by way of
answer; but he seems determined to regard them as proofs of friendship. It
is merely a case of calculating self-interest. He knows that the Duc
d'Orléans shows me some kindness, and he believes himself called upon to
play a part when this Prince comes to the throne, and therefore desires in
any case to be one of my friends; any one reading the opening sentences of
his letter would think that I was a great deal to him and he to me. I am
somewhat vexed in consequence.

Valençay, September 13, 1836.—How is it that people are so often found
ready to report ill-tempered speeches to the persons affected by them? It is a
strange and too common frame of mind. To myself it is so hateful that while
I believe myself incapable of it, I always receive very coldly those who
bring me confidential remarks of this nature. I think that the first condition
upon which one can live in peace is to speak evil of things only when they
are bad and as little as possible of people, and the second condition is to
disregard evil spoken about ourselves unless it be spoken to warn one of
some trap or actual danger, but it is very rarely that such information is
actuated by this good and laudable intention. These moral reflections are
evoked by the slanders which Lord Rosse is said to have uttered about
Madame de Lieven and the information brought to her concerning them. In

any case I see that social habit, knowledge of the world, the necessities of
conversation, and, in short, the thousand and one considerations which
make hypocrisy a virtue, or at any rate a social quality, allow these two
people to meet on good terms, and if that be so, my theories are of little or
no importance.

Valençay, September 16, 1836.—The following is an extract from a letter
received by M. de Talleyrand yesterday; it was not sent by Madame
Adélaïde, but the writer is generally very well informed. "M. Molé is ill. He
has not yet been able to pay any calls, nor to receive any ambassador, nor
has any council yet been held by the King. It is said that his health will not
allow him to remain long in office, and that he will never establish himself
there with any certainty. If he should resign, it is thought that the Ministry
would not be entirely dislocated, and that Montalivet would probably take
his place. There is also a rumour that the Ministry is ready to confront the
Chambers fearlessly, and expects to secure a majority, that it is ready to be
contented with a small majority in the hope of seeing it grow, and that it
does not intend to make every point a Cabinet question. Marshal Soult is
not to be Minister of War. He was anxious to be President of the Council,
but this was refused, and the post will probably be given to Molitor,
Sébastiani, or Bernard. The Ministry is entirely dominated by the King's
policy upon the Spanish question. The body which was gathering on the
Pyrenees frontier will be disbanded and the Foreign Legion abandoned. In
any case that legion is at the service of Spain, and we have no right to use it
for our own purposes. Strictest adherence will be maintained to the limits
laid down by the treaty of the Quadruple Alliance. At the same time an
ambassador at Madrid will be appointed, though the death of Rayneval
might have enabled us to dispense with this; but the appointment will be
made from respect to England. A rumour has gone abroad, but it is a great
secret, and the appointment is not yet settled, that this ambassador will be
the Duc de Coigny. The King is a little doubtful of the attitude which Thiers
will adopt. He is also much displeased with him, and has expressed his
displeasure several times. At one time Thiers took some steps to return to
the Ministry, and the matter was discussed. He then submitted himself
wholly to the King's opinion and will upon the Spanish question, but the
style of the King's expression showed that he was very far from reposing

confidence in Thiers, and that he would only take him back perforce and in
a difficult and unavoidable position. The true cause of Thiers' resignation is
not so much difference of opinion between the King and himself as the
deceitful course by which he wished to draw the King into intervention
against his will. Since he has gone several facts have been discovered of
which no one had any suspicion. Thiers went away announcing that he
would only return for the following session if he saw his policy attacked.
He is said to be really very despondent about his fall, and has the more
reason for despondency as he is sole author of it. The mode of his
resignation has greatly diminished the reputation which he first achieved,
and the public opinion is not in his favour."

Valençay, September 21, 1836.—Yesterday we heard that the Constitution
of 1820 had been proclaimed at Lisbon. It is asserted that this event was
prepared at London, and the fact remains that Admiral Gage, who was in
harbour with three ships of the line, remained a passive spectator. The
queens of the South are not destined to enjoy unbroken slumber, for at
Lisbon, as at Madrid, the Queen was forced to sign the new Constitution at
two o'clock in the morning. The army took the side of the people and of the
National Guard. The poor little Prince of Coburg has made a sad marriage
indeed. If he remains in private life with so heavy a burden as Doña Maria
he will collapse. It is impossible to avoid some feeling of dismay at these
military reactions, and we are deeply anxious to see our Cabinet completed
by a real Minister of War. General Bernard was the last chance, and would
be the best choice, as Marshal Soult persistently refuses.

Valençay, September 23, 1836.—Our festival of St. Maurice [47] was held
yesterday, and was most brilliant. Numbers of neighbours came, and our
cousins came over from Saint-Aignan. The gamekeepers with their early
trumpet-blasts, fine weather, a long drive, the banquet in the Castle, and
dinner to the little school-girls, the three courts lighted up, and a most pretty
entertainment, cheerfully and delightfully played, completed our festivity.

Valençay, September 25, 1836.—It is certain that Charles X., to please the
Duc de Bordeaux, has requested Don Carlos to receive his grandson into his

army, and Don Carlos has very wisely refused. The truth is that this would
have been the only thing that could have induced France to intervene.
A letter from Strasburg gives me many details concerning the Abbé Bautain
and MM. Ratisbonne and de Bonnechose which interest me greatly, for it
was these men who carried on the correspondence concerning the
philosophy of religion which I read last winter. This book is preceded by
their biographies and the story of their conversion, so that my knowledge of
their case is complete. M. Royer-Collard, to whom I have spoken several
times concerning the Abbé Bautain, told me that when he was high master
of the university he knew the Abbé, then quite a young man; that he had a
distinguished mind and a lively imagination, but that his mother was at
Charenton and that there seemed some likelihood of his following her,
though at the same time he thought a great deal of him for many reasons. I
trust that the death of Mlle. Humann will not relax the precious bond which
unites all these young people, with their goodness and sincerity. The
manner of Mlle. Humann's death was like that of Queen Anne of Austria, a
description of which I have just read in the Mémoires of Madame de
Motteville; this queen also died of cancer. I know few incidents so touching
and edifying, so curious and well described, as the death of this princess. I
have finished these memoirs; a book which counterbalances, from the
political standpoint, the memoirs of Cardinal de Retz. By way of restoring
my equilibrium, I am reading the Mémoires of the Grande Mademoiselle. I
read them before my marriage, at a time when I did not know France, and
therefore knew even less the district which I now inhabit, and in which this
princess lived for a long time; consequently her book has an entirely new
attraction for me and interests me deeply.

Valençay, September 28, 1836.—A few days ago a Spanish courier arrived
at Paris from Madrid. He had been stopped by the Carlists, who had taken
all his despatches except those directly addressed to King Louis-Philippe. In
these despatches Queen Christina announces that she proposes to leave
Madrid, leaving the two Princesses behind. The next day a telegram came in
stating that the Queen is to leave Madrid, with all the Ministry, for Badajoz.
This town was chosen as being nearest to Portugal, and because the Queen
would be unable to travel in the direction of Cadiz or the Pyrenees or to any
seaport. Unfortunate creature!

Valençay, October 2, 1836.—M. de Valençay, who is at the camp of
Compiègne with the Duc d'Orléans, writes that everything is going off well
and that the King's visit has had an excellent effect. The Ministers, who all
accompanied the King to Compiègne, followed him on horseback to the
great review, but M. Molé felt uncomfortable after a few minutes and got
into the Queen's carriage. The camp is said to be very fine; the King was
excellently received, and the young Princes make a good appearance. I am
the more pleased to hear this as it is the first time that the King has left his
confinement since the case of Alibaud. His presence in camp must have
been thought very necessary, as the Duc d'Orléans answered for the King's
safety with his own life, begging him to go and show himself to the troops;
and only then did the Council, which had at first opposed the plan, consent
to the King's journey.

Valençay, October 5, 1836.—I must copy the following passage about the
castle of Valençay, which I found in the Mémoires of the Grand
Mademoiselle, vol. ii. p. 411, in the year 1653: "I continued my journey to
Valençay, and arrived there by torchlight. I thought I was entering an
enchanted house. The rooms are the most handsome, delightful, and
magnificent, in the world; the staircase is very fine, and is reached by an
arcaded gallery that is superb. It was beautifully lighted up; there were
plenty of people, including Madame de Valençay, and some local ladies
with handsome daughters, and the general effect was most perfect. The
room corresponded with the beauty of the staircase, both in decorations and
furniture. It rained the whole day that I was there, and I think the weather
must have done it on purpose, as the covered walks had only just been
begun. From there I went to Selles; it is a fine house."
I have a letter from Alexander von Humboldt about the death of my man of
business, Herr Hennenberg. He offers his services in a most obliging and
careful letter, marked by the utmost flattery and wittiness, a curious
document which I shall keep among my precious autographs. The death of
this man has aroused the interest of all my friends. Were it not for the
anxiety which would pursue me if I were to leave M. de Talleyrand and my
daughter, a journey to Prussia would suit me entirely.

Valençay, October 18, 1836.—Yesterday I had a letter from the Prince de
Laval, written from Maintenon, where he was staying with M. de
Chateaubriand and Madame Récamier. He told me that a messenger from
the Princesse de Polignac had just arrived begging the Duc de Noailles to
go to Paris to try and remove the fresh obstacle which prevented the
accomplishment of the promise to improve the condition of the prisoners.
The Prince de Laval adds that the Duc de Noailles was about to start, and
that he would return to Montigny, whence he would come and pay us a
short visit and tell us of the new complications which have arisen
concerning the poor prisoners of Ham.

Valençay, October 20, 1836.—Yesterday we had a pleasant visit from M.
Royer-Collard, who came over from Châteauvieux in spite of the deplorable
state of the roads. He was very indignant that any one should be bargaining
with the prisoners of Ham about their liberty. He left me a letter which he
had received from M. de Tocqueville, who had returned from a journey in
Switzerland. In it I found the following passage: "I have closely examined
Switzerland for two months. It is very possible that the present severity of
the French Government towards it may force this disunited people to
submit, but it is certain in any case that we have made implacable enemies
there. We have accomplished a miracle by uniting in common feeling
against ourselves parties hitherto irreconcilable. This miracle has been
performed by the violent measure of M. Thiers, and perhaps even more by
the pride and haughtiness of our ambassador, M. de Montebello, and his
mania for interfering in the domestic affairs of the country upon every
possible occasion."
I have recently been thinking a great deal of what has been done or left
undone for the prisoners at Ham. All the newspapers with the exception of
the Débats unanimously blame the last measures, the favours offered as a
bargain and the degrading conditions imposed upon these prisoners, who
are a class by themselves and unexampled in history. These unfortunate
men, moreover, are not asking for liberty, but are only requesting some
alleviation on the score of their health. It seems that our present Ministers
do not share the opinion of Cardinal de Retz, who said: "Everything that
seems dangerous and really is not, is almost always a wise measure." Some
one else makes another observation which seems very applicable to recent

events: "There is nothing finer than to do favours to those who are against
us, and nothing weaker, in my opinion, than to receive favours from them.
Christianity, which enjoins the first action upon us, would certainly have
enjoined the second if it were good." Here we have a clever saying in the
style of that fine period when everybody, even the least perfect, had some
grandeur about him. I do not know whether vice is now any less, but as for
grandeur I can find none.

Valençay, October 23, 1836.—I have decided to write a short note
concerning the castle of Valençay, describing its foundation and history,
&c., which I shall dedicate to my grandson, Boson, in the following
words: [48]

"To my Grandson!

"All are agreed that it is disgraceful to know nothing of the
history of one's own country, and that undue modesty or undue
presumption are possible dangers if one is ignorant of one's
family history, but few are aware how greatly the pleasure of
inhabiting a beautiful spot is increased by some knowledge of its
traditions. Of these three kinds of ignorance the last is
undoubtedly of least importance, but it is also the most
common; schoolmasters may create the first, parents the second,
but only individual taste can lead us to inquire into dates and
facts connected with places which are not generally recognised
as famous. This inquiry may seem trivial if it is not justified by
any interesting recollections of the past, but in such a case as
that of Valençay, where the house is well known for its
connection with celebrities, it is the less excusable to disregard
or to confuse its history, as we are specially called, if not to
perpetuate these famous events, at least to respect them.
"It has been a pleasure to make this piece of history easier for
your study. May it encourage you to remain as noble in heart
and thought as are the glories and the traditions of the ancient
place of which I propose to tell you the story."

Valençay, October 24, 1836.—Yesterday I had a very kind letter from the
Duc d'Orléans, telling me of the departure of his brother the Duc de
Nemours for Constantine. He envies him his dangerous enterprise.
M. the Prince de Joinville was at Jerusalem.

Valençay, October 28, 1836.—All our letters from Paris say that no
ceremony has been more imposing than the erection of the Obelisk of
Luxor. [49] The royal family was welcomed with delight. It was their first
public appearance in Paris since Fieschi's attempt, and the people showed
their pleasure. The Cabinet hesitated, as in the case of Compiègne, but the
royal will carried the day, and with successful results.

Valençay, October 30, 1836.—To-morrow I propose to start from here at
eight o'clock in the morning; I shall lunch at Beauregard, [50] dine at Tours
and sleep at my own house at Rochecotte, where M. de Talleyrand and my
daughter will join me on November 2.

Rochecotte, November 2, 1836.—I have not had a moment's rest since my
arrival here, as I had to put everything in order before the appearance of the
guests whom I am expecting, and to examine the changes that have been
caused during my absence by the construction of the artesian well; these
changes have greatly improved the immediate neighbourhood of the Castle,
though much remains to be done.
I am inclined to think that M. Thiers has uttered some very ill-advised
remarks concerning all of us. Ill-temper and despondency usually find
unmeasured expression in the case of persons whose early education has
been deficient. It was the Spanish question which drove M. Thiers from the
Ministry, and on this point he was absolutely opposed to M. de Talleyrand;
hence the result. I have no ill-feeling against him; it was bound to be so.
Moreover, there are very few people of whom I am sufficiently fond to hate
them profoundly.

Rochecotte, November 4, 1836.—What is the meaning of all this Strasburg
disturbance? [51] I am inclined to think there is something serious in this mad
Bonaparte enterprise, from the fact that a similar movement took place the
same day at Vendôme. Six sergeants began the affair, which was
immediately crushed, though one man was killed. I do not know whether
the newspapers have anything to say of it, but it is quite certain, as the two
prefects of Tours and Blois related it to M. de Talleyrand, who told me the
news when he arrived. The Grand Duchess Stephanie will be uneasy
concerning the expedition of her cousin, Louis Bonaparte. [52] I am sorry for
the Duchesse de Saint-Leu, although I think she had some knowledge of the
affair and is more inclined to intrigue than to act a part; but she is a mother,
and has already lost her eldest son, and she must feel terrible anxiety; it is a
just though bitter punishment for her miserable intrigues.

Rochecotte, November 7, 1836.—Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de
Lieven, who tells me that the Emperor Nicholas is indisposed. When a
Russian admits that the Emperor is indisposed he must indeed be ill. His
death would be an event of very different importance from the outbreak at
Strasburg. I do not think the French would have any great reason to regret
him.

Rochecotte, November 10, 1836.—Madame Adélaïde informs M. de
Talleyrand that the King has resolved not to bring the young Bonaparte to
trial; he will simply insist upon his immediate departure for America and
exact a formal promise that he will never return to France. Madame de
Saint-Leu has written to the King to beg for her son's life. She is known to
be hidden at Paris, where the authorities are unwilling to leave her; nor will
they allow her to live in Switzerland. Apparently she will go to the United
States with her son. What foolishness it is which can lead to such a result!

Rochecotte, November 11, 1836.—Madame de Lieven was saying recently
before Pozzo that she would perhaps spend the next winter at Rome. "What
on earth would you find to do in Italy?" cried Pozzo. "You could ask no one
to tell you the news except the Apollo Belvedere, and if he refused you
would say, 'Wretch, away with you!'" This sally of Pozzo's made every one
laugh, including the Princess; she is, in fact, quite frivolous.

Rochecotte, November 20, 1836.—Yesterday's letters told of a reversal in
the affairs of Portugal. The counter-revolution seems to have failed at the
moment when success was thought certain, and the mishap was due to a
want of understanding between the little Van de Weyer and Lord Howard de
Walden. The disaster is complete.
Madame Adélaïde tells M. de Talleyrand that the Court will certainly not go
into mourning for the death of Charles X., as no notification of the event
has been received. [53] She quotes several examples in which mourning was
not worn for this reason, though near relatives were concerned, including
the case of the late Queen of Naples; she was aunt and mother-in-law to the
Emperor of Austria, and died in the Imperial castle near Vienna, but the

Austrian Court did not go into mourning because the King of Naples, who
was then in Sicily, did not send a notification of his wife's death. Such
precedents are invincible.

Rochecotte, November 21, 1836.—The death of Charles X. has divided
society in Paris upon every point. Every one wears mourning according to
his own fancy, from colours to deep black by infinite gradations, and with
fresh bitterness about every yard of crape that seems to be wanting. Some
refer to him as the Comte de Marnes and Henry V., others as Louis XIX. In
short, the place is a perfect Babel, and they are not even agreed upon the
disease of which Charles X. died. Yesterday's letters speak of nothing else,
except the affairs of Portugal. We are informed that the clumsy attempt
might easily shake the position of Lord Palmerston. [54]

Rochecotte, November 22, 1836.—The Prince de Laval writes that M. de
Ranville is staying with him at Montigny, while M. de Polignac [55] is on the
road for Munich and Goritz. I do not know at all how this business has been
arranged, nor do I know the meaning of this meeting of Paris clergy
summoned to the house of M. Guizot, the Minister of Public Worship. They
say that the Archbishop is preparing a manifesto in consequence, but I have
not yet received the answer to the riddle.
Only the Abbé de Vertot could tell the full story of the revolutions in
Portugal. Lord Palmerston would not be the hero of it, nor Lord Howard de
Walden either. What can one think of the base methods employed by such
diplomacy?

Rochecotte, November 28, 1836.—Differences of opinion concerning the
question of mourning for Charles X. have found their way into the royal
family; the Queen, who had voluntarily assumed mourning the first day,
was vexed because the Ministry forced her to abandon it. The Cabinet is
afraid of newspaper controversy, but has gained nothing, as all the
newspapers are in rivalry according to their political colouring. I am much
puzzled to know what shade of white, grey, or black I shall adopt when I
reach Paris; generally speaking, the ladies of the neutral party who are also

of society wear black in company and white at Court. The position of our
diplomatists abroad will be very embarrassing.
M. de Balzac, who is a native of Touraine, has come into the country to buy
a small estate, and induced one of my neighbours to bring him here.
Unfortunately it was dreadful weather and I was forced to invite him to
dinner.
I was polite, but very reserved. I am greatly afraid of these publicists, men
of letters, and writers of articles. I never spoke a word without deep
consideration, and was delighted when he went. Moreover, he did not
attract me; his face and bearing are vulgar, and I imagine his ideas are
equally so. Undoubtedly he is a clever man, but his conversation is neither
easy nor light, but, on the contrary, very dull. He watched and examined all
of us most minutely, especially M. de Talleyrand.
I could very well have done without this visit, and should have avoided it if
I had been able. He aims at the extraordinary, and relates a thousand
incidents about himself, of which I believe none.
The Prince de Laval informed me that M. de Polignac has not yet been able
to profit by the freedom which was granted him, as he was too ill to move at
the moment arranged for his departure. [56] He asks to be transported to the
nearest frontier, Mons or Calais, to avoid any route of which he could not
endure the fatigue.

Rochecotte, December 2, 1836.—The Archbishop's letter concerning the
convocation of the clergy is a bad one, because of its fault-finding, which is
an unsuitable characteristic in an ecclesiastic whose finest quality is
evangelical simplicity; but we must also admit that he must have been
shocked by the attempt to influence the clergy directly, and that the
prohibition of prayers instituted by the Church is somewhat too
revolutionary, and I wish we could reform revolutionary ways more
definitely. We cling to them out of fear, and this timidity, which is too
obvious, brings us into isolation abroad and encourages enemies at home.
The Duc d'Angoulême will certainly style himself Louis XIX. and his wife
the Queen; she wished it to be so. However, immediately after the death of

Charles X. they sent all the insignia of royalty into the room of the Duc de
Bordeaux, declaring that even if events were favourable they never wished
to reign in France. In any case the notifications were issued under the
incognito title of Comte de Marnes. The young Prince is called
Monseigneur at Goritz. He and his sister are staying with his uncle and
aunt.
M. de Polignac wrote to M. Molé after the death of Charles X., saying
positively that he would be grateful to the King of the French for
permission to leave Ham, and thus obtained his permit. M. Peyronnet wrote
in charcoal on his prison wall, "I ask mercy only from God," which I think
he had hardly the right to say, since he left his prison in very lively spirits.
He would not see M. de Polignac again, even at the last moment.

Rochecotte, December 15, 1836.—I shall certainly leave here to-morrow
evening, and shall be at Paris in the afternoon of the day following.

[The two correspondents whose letters furnish material for these memoirs
spent a few months together at Paris, so that the memoirs were interrupted,
and recommenced in 1837.]

CHAPTER II

1837

Paris, April 17, 1837.—The new Ministry, which entered upon office the
day before yesterday, and is destined to immortalise the date of April 15, as
different Governments are designated by such dates, will have a stern
conflict to wage, and I hope, for the sake of its leader, M. Molé, that it will
emerge with honour from the struggle. The Journal de Paris offers a frank
Doctrinaire opposition; the Journal des Débats pronounces a funeral oration
over the last Ministry and offers peace and support to the new one. All this
promises neither reality, sincerity, fidelity, nor stability, and I hardly know
to whom or to what it is reasonable to trust in the sphere of political
relations. M. Royer-Collard came to see me this morning before going to
the Chamber of Deputies; he did not seem to think that the new Ministry
would survive one session. [57]
M. Thiers came to dine with us, among other guests, and talked largely, as
usual. He came from the Chamber, where they had in vain awaited the
official proclamation of the new Ministry which had been announced. The
King was to take the Electress, [58] who is at Paris at this moment incognito
as the Comtesse d'Arco, to visit Versailles, but as the council lasted from ten
in the morning till five in the afternoon the King was unable to go out or the
Ministers to appear before the Chamber. The incident produced a bad effect
upon the Electress, who is said to be irritable and scornful.

Paris, April 19, 1837.—Madame de Castellane, who came to see me this
morning, was very painfully affected by last night's session in the Chamber,
and told me that the extreme length of yesterday's council was due to a keen
discussion concerning the complete repeal of the law of appanage and the
advisability of leaving blank the appanage of the Duc d'Orléans in the law

which was to be presented to the Chamber on the occasion of his marriage
with Princess Helena of Mecklenburg-Schwerin; the Duc d'Orléans, who
was present at the council, was anxious that a blank space should be left,
and eventually gained his point.
Hardly had Madame de Castellane left my house than Madame de Lieven
came in; she came to ask me to dinner to-day. She told me a saying which is
current concerning the new Ministry, and is borrowed from a new
invention; they call it the deodorised Ministry.
Towards the end of the morning I had a visit from M. de Tocqueville, who
came to me from the Chamber, where he had witnessed the solemn entry of
the Ministry. He said that the entry took place amid the most absolute
silence; there was not a word or a gesture, as if the benches had been empty,
and as if one had been in the middle of the ice upon Lake Ladoga, to quote
a later remark by Madame de Lieven. The same silence prevailed during M.
Molé's speech, and when the Ministry retired in a body to make their way to
the Chamber of Peers there was a murmur of dissatisfaction which drove
back MM. de Salvandy and de Rosamel, who had come to resume their
places upon the Ministerial bench. In the ensuing debate Marshal Clauzel
seems to have cut a poor figure, but M. Jaubert was most incisive, and at his
remarks upon the provisional state of affairs malicious laughter against the
Cabinet burst out on all sides. On the whole the impression was most
discouraging for the new Ministry.
After our dinner the Duc de Noailles came in his turn to give an account of
the Ministerial entry into the Chamber of Peers. M. Molé said a few short
and confused words; M. de Brézé said that he thought the speech too vague,
and asked for some explanation of the reason for the dissolution of the last
Cabinet. M. Molé attempted to reply without committing himself, with the
result, doubtless by mistake, that he used the word "categorical" to
characterise the brevity of his words. Thereupon M. Villemain said
maliciously that the speech of the President of the Council was anything
rather than categorical, and that he would like to know what was going to
happen concerning the law of non-revelation. M. de Montalivet then got up,
and is said to have made an excellent speech. He would have left the
Chamber with a thoroughly good impression, had not M. Siméon, the
promoter of the law of non-revelation, announced that his speech was ready.

This will be a great embarrassment for the Ministry, as they would have
preferred to allow this proposed law to be forgotten.

Paris, April 22, 1837.—Yesterday I had a visit from the Duc d'Orléans, who
had just learnt the vote of the Chamber concerning his marriage dotation,
and was satisfied both with the form and matter of it. He seems to me
inclined to spend half of the million allotted to household expenses in
charity to the workmen of Lyons, in bank-books bought for unfortunate
people in the savings-banks of the country, in clothes for a large number of
children in orphanages, and, in short, in good works. He is very pleased
with his marriage, and in an excellent temper. The Princess Helena wishes
to be escorted from Weimar by an envoy of France, and a suitable person is
being sought for this mission. I should be glad to see the Baron de
Montmorency obtain the honour. The Princess will see the King of Prussia
at Potsdam. Her portrait has not yet arrived. There are still hopes that the
marriage will take place before June 15. As the Princess is not to be married
by procuration, and is not yet, consequently, the Duchesse d'Orléans, her
household will not go to meet her at the frontier. There she will be met only
by some member of the King's household, and perhaps by one of the
Queen's ladies; in any case, she is coming accompanied by her step-mother,
the Dowager Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg.
Meunier will probably be pardoned on the occasion of the marriage. [59] The
trial of Meunier presents no interest as regards the character of the
individuals concerned, nor is their language in any way dramatic. The affair
is much inferior to that of Fieschi, or even of Alibaud, and the only effect
produced has been one of disgust, which is the best effect upon the public
that could be produced.
The ridiculous compliment of M. Dupin to the Prince Royal is well
commented upon this morning in the Journal de Paris. The King would not
allow his son to receive the congratulations of the Chambers except in his
own presence, which induced M. Sémonville to say that he would have
thought he was abdicating if any other course had been followed.
I dined at the house of M. and Madame Mollien with M. and Madame
Bertin de Veaux, M. Guizot, and M. de Vandœuvre. There was much talk of

the halting speech of M. Barthe, at the end of which he suddenly came to a
standstill, of the extremely poor appearance of the Ministry, and of the
almost inevitable possibility of a duel between MM. Thiers and Guizot in
the course of a session which will bring up so many burning questions. The
two champions will deliver their blows upon the backs of the Ministry,
which will probably succumb under their assault. This remark is fairly
general, and is not my property. Yesterday nothing more than skirmishing
went on.

Paris, April 26, 1837.—I hear of discussions in England upon the Spanish
question. M. Thiers gave assurances the other day that the English Ministry
was ready to leave Spain to its destiny. He deduced, with some fear for the
reigning French dynasty, the conclusion that Don Carlos would be
triumphant. It is true that this question is concerned with that of
intervention, upon which he used to lay so much stress.
The Duchesse d'Albuféra has been greatly agitated by the duel of her son-
in-law, M. de La Redorte, who fought the editor of the Corsaire on account
of an insulting article which appeared two days ago in this wretched
newspaper, apparently attacking both the person and the opinions of M. de
La Redorte. The duel was fought with pistols, and the editor was wounded
in the hand; it is thought that he will lose a finger. Social distinctions are
destroyed by the excesses of the Press.

Paris, April 27, 1837.—This morning I saw Madame Adélaïde, who told
me that the King had just signed the commutation of Meunier's penalty. She
also told me that the Princess of Mecklenburg and her step-mother would
reach the French frontier on May 25; on May 28, St. Ferdinand's Day, there
would be a birthday celebration for the Duc d'Orléans at Fontainebleau, and
the marriage would take place on the 31st.
Our guests at dinner were the Princesse de Lieven, the Duc de Noailles,
Labouchère, M. Thiers, and Matusiewicz, who has returned much aged
from Naples, of which he gives a bad account, both for its climate and its
social resources. Thus the guests were somewhat heterogeneous, which was
due to M. de Talleyrand's absence of mind, but all went off very well and

the conversation was lively, especially between M. Thiers and Madame de
Lieven. She was positively coquettish towards him—I use the word
advisedly, because no other would express the fact. M. Thiers gave an
account of the Chamber, continually repeating in a special tone of voice
which evoked involuntary laughter, "Poor Ministry!" At the same time he
patronises the Ministry, though he would never consent, I think, to be
patronised at that price. It would suit him to keep the Ministry alive until
the next session, but his success is doubtful, for, as he says himself, an
invalid can be kept alive, but not a dead man. In yesterday's session the
Ministry equivocated, as usual, and eventually decided against Marshal
Soult, which caused much ill-temper on the Left because the Doctrinaires
shouted on every side, "Settle it!" "Settle it!" They said that the scene was
quite scandalous. After Madame de Lieven took her leave the gentlemen
stayed on for some time, and talked of the changes which the schism had
introduced into society, even into the neutral body of it. They discussed the
influence of the salons and of the women who controlled them. M. Thiers
classed them as follows: The salon of Madame de Lieven is the observatory
of Europe; that of Madame de Ségur is purely Doctrinaire, with no
concessions; that of Madame de La Redorte is entirely in the power of M.
Thiers; with Madame de Flahaut the convenience of the Duc d'Orléans is
the general desire, and with M. de Talleyrand the convenience of the King;
the house of Madame de Broglie is for the 11th of October and for the
concession, though the most bitter of concessions; the cabinet of Madame
de Dino is alone guided by the most perfect independence of mind and
judgment. My share is thus by no means the worst, though, to tell the truth,
it was pronounced in my presence.
The German newspapers announce the death of M. Ancillon, who had been
ill for a long time, when the doctor ordered him a draught and a liniment; he
explained the matter to Madame Ancillon, who was starting for a concert.
When she came back she perceived that a mistake had been made, and a
few hours afterwards the invalid was dead. The poor man was unfortunate
in marriage. He began by marrying a wife who might have been his mother,
then one who might have been his daughter, and finally this Belgian beauty,
who was, I think, the worst of the three.

Paris, April 29, 1837.—This morning I saw M. Royer-Collard, who spoke
of the session in the Chamber of Deputies on the previous evening, when a
million had been voted for the Queen of the Belgians. The result, for which
he also voted, was doubtless good, but the debate seems to have been very
ominous for the Government, and M. de Cormenin by no means received a
thrashing, but held the upper hand. The same impression was given to me
by two others who were present at the session.

Paris, April 30, 1837.—M. Thiers came to see me this morning before the
session of the Chamber. He confirmed the general report of the session
which discussed the grant to the Queen of the Belgians; but the object of his
visit was to complain of the Princesse de Lieven. He has suddenly seen
what I had foreseen long ago, that she did not take him seriously, but
brought him out and put him forward as an actor. He has too much common
sense not to see the ridiculous side of this and not to feel it. He asked if I
had noticed it and if others had seen it. I told him that no one had mentioned
it to me, but that I thought a little more reserve in his language in a salon
which he himself called the observatory of Europe would not be out of
place. I advised him, however, to remain on good terms with the Princess,
who is really fond of him, and whose wit and easy conversation please him
also. I think he found an opportunity the other day of letting drop a few
words to her that frightened her considerably. There is no harm in that, as
she is a person with whom one must remain upon good terms and yet keep
in check.

Paris, May 1, 1837.—The Duc de Broglie is going to meet the Princess of
Mecklenburg at Fulda, on this side of Weimar, not to marry her, but to offer
his compliments and his escort. The wife of Marshal Lobau will be the
Princess's lady-of-honour.
Yesterday I had a letter from the Archbishop of Paris, who sends me a copy
of the answer from Rome, which he had just received, concerning his last
difficulties with reference to the archiepiscopal estate. Rome entirely
approves his conduct, and leaves him free to conduct any transaction which
may satisfy his general interests. This last phrase is distinctly vague. I shall
probably go to-morrow afternoon to thank the Archbishop and to learn

some further details. He adds in his letter that he is certain that the
Government have received an answer similar to that which he
communicates to me.

Paris, May 2, 1837.—I am assured that the Prussian Minister here, Baron
von Werther, will take the place of M. Ancillon at Berlin. He is offering
some objection to the proposal, but it is thought that he will accept.
The Marquis de Mornay has been nicknamed the Sosthenes of the July
revolution—amusing, but very true.
I have seen M. Royer-Collard, who thought that the law concerning secret
funds would pass, but would be a mortal blow to the Cabinet.
Yesterday evening I went to the Court reception held on the 1st of May. [60]
There was an enormous crowd, including every type of beauty and ugliness,
of well and badly dressed people. The Duc d'Orléans did not appear, as he is
suffering from a severe sore throat and inflammation of the eyes. He is wise
to take care of himself, as he has only three weeks for that purpose.
I was told at the Château that in a morning session of the Chamber M.
Jaubert had positively flayed the Ministry, and that to-day's session might
easily end in their overthrow. I hardly think so, as no one is anxious to seize
their inheritance.
Rumours are also current of an important victory said to be won by Don
Carlos.
Apparently I did not mention what Matusiewicz told me about the new
Queen of Naples, concerning whom I asked him many questions. She is the
Archduchess Theresa of whom so much was heard last year. He says that
she is agreeable, witty, kind, and nice, with no haughtiness or fine manners,
and nothing of the princess about her. The King is said to be deeply in love
with her.

Paris, May 4, 1837.—Yesterday I went to the Sacred Heart to see the
Archbishop. I found him delighted with the answer from Rome, and not
anxious to make any public parade of it. Whatever formalities the other side

might raise, he was anxious to use the liberty given him from Rome to
handle the whole question in a pacific spirit; in short, he was calmer and
gentler than I had seen him for a long time.

Paris, May 5, 1837.—M. Molé, who dined here yesterday, said that his
colleague, M. Martin du Nord, would make a kind of apology to-day to the
Chamber for his outburst of the day before yesterday. M. Thiers has
harangued his forces and calmed their feelings.
The ratification of the marriage contract of the Duc d'Orléans has come to
hand from Mecklenburg; the illness of Herr von Plessen, the Mecklenburg
Minister, had prevented him from travelling to the spot where the
ratifications are to be exchanged, and some delay was feared, which would
have been the more prolonged as the Minister has since died. M. Bresson
therefore sent a bearer to him with the Act; he was almost at his last gasp
when he signed it, and died three hours afterwards.
Herr von Lutteroth says that the portrait of the Prince Royal which he was
commissioned to take to the Princess Helena produced an excellent
impression. Two attacks of influenza made it impossible to finish the
portrait of the Princess; in her place I would not send anything. Herr von
Lutteroth is full of the delightful qualities of the Princess, although he
admits that her nose is by no means distinguished and her teeth rather bad.
Otherwise she is admirable, especially her figure, which is charming. When
he dined with her her gloves were too large and she wore black shoes which
obviously were not made at Paris. The vexatious point is that the Duc
d'Orléans has an obstinate cold on his chest; he coughs a great deal and his
voice is very weak, but he is taking care of himself, and wisely.
Mecklenburg princesses have no dowry, but when they marry the States
vote them two or three hundred thousand francs as a voluntary gift. The
Duc d'Orléans has refused this vote, to the great delight, it is said, of the
people of Mecklenburg. The Duc de Broglie will be accompanied upon his
mission by the Comte Foy, son of the famous General, the Comte
d'Haussonville, MM. Léon de Laborde, Philippe de Chabot, and Doudain,
the last-named with the title of First Secretary to the embassy. [61]

Paris, May 6, 1837.—After a visit from M. Royer-Collard, and as though
by way of contrast, I went yesterday morning and waited for a long time at
Madame Bautrand's, the famous costumier. I wanted to choose a few things
for the entertainments at Fontainebleau, and spent an interesting time over
it. In the first place there were the most delightful articles, then there was a
crowd of people waiting for some mark of favour, and messages were
coming from the Château hastily summoning the great personage. One
really might have thought one's self in the rooms of a party leader.
Yesterday evening I had a note from Madame de Castellane written after the
session of the Chamber, giving the following account of it: M. Martin du
Nord offered a reasonable explanation; M. Augustin Giraud vigorously
attacked M. Molé, who returned an admirable reply; M. Vatry challenged
the great champions to enter the arena by proposing an amendment; M. de
Lamartine, in a wearisome speech entirely off the point, aroused M. Odilon
Barrot, who then delivered one of his finest speeches; M. Guizot in his turn
made an excellent reply.
I was awakened just now to receive a note from M. Molé, telling me that M.
Thiers, shaken and almost converted by yesterday's session, is anxious to
overthrow the Ministry and so force M. Guizot to come forward with his
friends, with the object of overthrowing him in turn; he adds that M. Dupin
reminded M. Thiers of his obligations, telling him that such action would be
dishonourable. M. Thiers seemed to waver once more, and announced that
he would summon his friends again. M. Molé sends me this news, asking
me to discuss it with M. Thiers from Dupin's point of view. He has applied
to the wrong person, for the burnt child fears the fire, and I have too keen a
recollection of last year's scene to put my hand into a wasp's nest of that
kind. I prefer not to meddle with what does not concern me, but in any case
to-day's work will decide the case of the Ministry.

Paris, May 7, 1837.—I did not go out yesterday morning, and left my door
open, so certain visitors came in: M. Jules d'Entraigues, the Duc de
Noailles, and the little Princess Schönberg. All were full of the session of
the previous evening and of M. Guizot's magnificent speech. He really
performed admirably, and aroused the deepest parliamentary emotion in the
Chamber.

About five o'clock M. de Tocqueville arrived. He came from the session and
had just heard Thiers, who had replied to Guizot. It seems that no one ever
showed greater power; it is he who saved the Ministry and secured the
passing of the law. [62] He added that Thiers spoke quietly and coldly,
seeming to avoid any oratorical effects, and not attempting to outdo his
rival in dramatic display, but anxious only to deliver a blow, and he is said
to have succeeded.
At dinner our guests were the Duchesse d'Albuféra, M. and Madame de La
Redorte, MM. Thiers and Mignet. M. Thiers was well pleased with his day's
work, and gave a warm tribute to Guizot, roundly asserting that he would
never have been so foolish as to try and eclipse him, seeing that that was
impossible; he had attempted only to make his position impossible, and that
he had done. He then gave us his speech, which seemed to me to be
strikingly clear, sensible, and practical. He told me that M. Royer-Collard
had almost fallen upon his neck, saying, "You have killed them!"
In the evening I went to Madame Molé's, to a dinner given in return for that
which I recently gave when the Electress was present. The only subject of
conversation was the session in the Chamber. The Ministry were as pleased
as if they had been successful, though there is no possibility that they will
triumph. As I came back I called upon Madame de Lieven. She had heard
Guizot on the previous evening, but not Thiers in the morning. Thus she
had remained entirely under Guizot's influence, which was the more
appropriate as he came in himself delighted with the concert of praise by
which he has been received; but in reality he felt the blow had been struck.
I, who know him well, thought his feelings quite obvious.
As I write I am quite deafened by the noise of the drum which is continually
beaten for the great review of the National Guard which the King is to hold
to-day. Heaven grant that all goes off well. I am most anxious.
I know that Herr von Werther and Apponyi are but moderately satisfied
with the political doctrines expressed by M. Guizot in his speech of the day
before yesterday; they were expecting a less limited and less middle-class
system. There they were wrong, for M. Guizot's social ideas are alone
appropriate to the age and to the country as it is now constituted.

Paris, May 8, 1837.—I should be delighted if the last piece of news I have
heard were true, that the Grand Duchess Stephanie is to marry her daughter
to the Duke of Leuchtenberg; there would then be no possibility of her
marrying one of our princes, and I should be equally pleased because I am
not anxious to see among them a nephew of the Prefect of Blois. [63]
The day before yesterday, in the evening, I met the Marquis of Conyngham
at the house of Madame de Lieven. He related that the Duchess of Kent,
who is always doing tactless things, recently invited Lord Grey to dinner
together with Lady Jersey. Their respective rank required that Lord Grey
should take Lady Jersey into dinner; Sir John Conroy requested Lord Grey
to do so, but he absolutely refused, and Lady Jersey was taken in by some
one of lower rank. Both were keenly irritated in consequence.
It seems certain that the Duchesse de Saint-Leu is dying. The physician
Lisfranc, who has returned from Arenenberg, says so. The poor woman has
mismanaged her life and her position, and she is expiating her fault most
cruelly. It is dreadful to survive her eldest son and to die far away from her
second son, entirely cut off from her family; this misfortune disarms the
severe criticism which one might be tempted to utter concerning her.
Yesterday was held the great review, and all my rooms were filled from
eleven o'clock in the morning. From our windows we had a perfect view of
the march past, which followed the Rue de Rivoli, and then passed in front
of the Obelisk, where were the King, the Queen, the Princes, and a very
numerous following. Sixty thousand National Guards and twenty thousand
line troops marched past. Previously the King had gone round the ranks
within the Cour du Carrousel and on the Esplanade des Invalides. The
National Guard shouted "Vive le Roi!" most vigorously, and the line troops
still more so. The wind was cold and sharp, but the sun was bright. The
King returned to the Château across the garden of the Tuileries. Thus the
King's state of siege has come to an end, and a good thing too. We must
hope upon the one hand that it will not often be thought necessary to renew
this form of proceeding, and that on the other hand some relaxation may be
possible of those excessive precautions which spoilt the effect of the show,
and which were carried to such an extent yesterday that I have never seen
anything sadder or more painful; the embankments, the Rue de Rivoli, the
square, and the Tuileries were forbidden to every one except men in

uniform, and men, women, children, little dogs, and every living being were
driven away; it was a complete desert, and every one was blockaded in his
house. My son Valençay, to get from his house in the Rue de Université to
mine, was obliged to go by the Pont d'Auteuil! This state of things was
maintained until the King returned to his rooms. All the police were on
duty, and the posts of the National Guard were doubled upon every side by
a row of police and municipal guards surrounding the royal group. The
town looked as though deserted or plague-stricken, with a conquering army
marching through without finding a stopping-place or inhabitants.
After our dinner I went to inquire for the Queen and to say farewell to
Madame Adélaïde, who is starting for Brussels this morning. There had
been a great military dinner of two hundred and sixty people in the Hall of
the Marshals; all were in full dress, pleased and animated.
I concluded the evening with Madame de Castellane, where I found M.
Molé, who was very pleased with the result of the review.
In my wanderings I discovered that the last speech of M. Thiers was gaining
an increasing hold on men's minds. It is thought that, without abandoning
his general theories, he was pointing to a practical solution which would
satisfy all positive spirits; people are much obliged by the fact that in this
speech he had twice separated from the Left without hurting their feelings;
in short, his clever words have dissipated some of the fears which he
inspired and removed some of the obstacles which stood between himself
and the power. This impression I have received from many different sides,
and except the Doctrinaires and the extremists on the Left every one is
feeling it.

Paris, May 9, 1837.—Yesterday I had a long visit from M. Royer-Collard,
whose admiration for the speech of M. Thiers is at its height. He praises the
occasion, the propriety of it, and above all the truth, not only its personal
truth—that is to say, its individual sincerity—but its truth with reference to
the actual state of opinion, which the speaker alone has correctly
appreciated. He said it was one of those speeches over which one could
never think too long, which grips the reader more and more, and the effect
of which will steadily increase. He admits that the session when MM.

Odilon Barrot and Guizot spoke was more interesting to watch, and that the
two actors played their parts very well, but that they were merely acting;
that they showed themselves good orators, but not statesmen; that both
relied upon extremist opinions which were worn out; that M. Guizot in
particular was no longer a man of his age, but an émigré; and that this point
had been admirably brought out by Thiers. M. Royer-Collard thinks the
speech of Guizot imprudent and irritating, in which respect he says that
Guizot followed his arrogant disposition. In short, he says many things; he
says them in my sitting-room, but repeats them in the Chamber, at the
Academy, to each and all, and makes it his business to do so. This is very
useful to M. Thiers, in whose speech there is something too fine and subtle
to be understood without a commentary.
I did not go out after M. Royer's call, but stayed at home to read the life of
Raphael by M. Quatremère; the book is lacking in warmth and vivacity, but
it is well written. It is most restful at the present time to return to the
exquisite art of an age when men of genius were complete, because they
possessed every shade of genius, if one may use the phrase. Books of this
kind give me an inexpressible longing for Italy.
In the evening I looked in at the Austrian Embassy, where Madame de
Lieven told me a large amount of gossip from London. One of her stories
was as follows: At the last Levée the King thanked the Turkish Ambassador
aloud and through an interpreter for postponing a dinner which he was
giving, on account of the death of Lady Delisle, his natural daughter, and
thus showing him a respect which his own family had refused; this remark
was aimed at the Duchess of Kent. At the last Drawing-room the Queen
could not be present, as she was ill, and it was held by Princess Augusta; the
Duchess of Kent arrived with her daughter; the King heartily embraced the
latter without noticing her mother, and seeing Sir John Conroy in the
throne-room he ordered the Chamberlain to send him out. Finally, when the
Prince of Linange came to his mother's house, the Duchess of Kent, with his
wife, who is not his equal in birth, the King sent Lord Conyngham to the
Duchess to say that he would receive his daughter-in-law, but could not
permit her to enter his private apartments; the Duchess declined to receive
Lord Conyngham, and sent a message to say that if he came to pay a private
call she would see him with pleasure, but that she would not receive him as
the King's messenger, and that he need only write down what he had to say.

Lord Conyngham then sent her a letter, to which she replied by an epistle of
twelve pages, enumerating all her supposed grievances against the King,
and concluding with the statement that if her daughter-in-law were not
received as a princess she would never set foot in the King's house again.
She had several copies made of the letter, and sent them to all the members
of the Cabinet. Lord Conyngham, who told all this to Madame de Lieven, in
spite of his Whig principles, went on to say that the position of the English
Ministry was unpleasant, as their relations with the King were disturbed and
they were unpopular in the country, and that the difficulties concerning the
Bank and the progress of affairs in Spain were very unpleasant incidents for
the Cabinet.
It is settled that the Duc de Coigny is to be knight-of-honour to the
Duchesse d'Orléans. He is naturally impolite, his habits are uncivilised, and
he has only one hand, so that he will not be able to offer his hand to the
Princess. An equally certain appointment is that of the Comtesse Anatole de
Montesquiou as first lady to accompany the Princess, and to take the place
of the lady-of-honour, whose delicate health will often prevent her from
performing her duties. [64] This is an excellent choice. Madame de
Montesquiou is forty-six years of age, her reputation is unblemished, she
has been pretty and is still pleasant to look upon, her manners are quiet and
simple and are the exact expression of her life and character. No better
choice and no person better suited for the position could be found.
The newspapers say that a subscription is being raised in the Chamber of
Deputies to print fifty thousand copies of M. Guizot's speech. M. Martin du
Nord, one of the members of the present Cabinet, has given a subscription,
and thus confirmed the generally accepted opinion that he is secretly a
Doctrinaire and a traitor to the Cabinet. Thereupon M. Molé went to the
King to ask for the removal of M. Martin du Nord or to offer his own
resignation. I have not yet heard the conclusion of this fresh complication.

Paris, May 10, 1837.—At the time of writing yesterday I had not read the
Moniteur, which announced the amnesty. [65] I knew that M. Molé had long
been anxious to see this measure passed, but I think that the speech of M.
Thiers encouraged him in his design and accelerated the execution of it. I
have heard people talking of nothing else all day. Men's minds are entirely

occupied with it, and their attention is thus diverted from the peerage given
to M. Bresson, which again is to be explained by this marriage. What a
fortunate man he is! Undoubtedly he is capable, but circumstances have
helped him with a speed and consistency rarely found in human destiny. To
return to the great event of the amnesty, I will say that high society strongly
approves of it, the more so as it has arrived unexpectedly and not been
extorted by party importunity; so it is an act of mercy, and not of weakness.
The sharp-sighted regard it as another act of hostility to the Doctrinaires
rather than an act of kindness to the political prisoners—as much as to say
that the measure could not be passed while the Doctrinaires were in office,
but now that we have separated from them we hasten to grant it. This will
isolate them yet more in the country. I repeat there are people who regard
this measure as a consequence of M. Thiers' speech, and even as directly
due to his influence. The Doctrinaires are most infuriated, and those peers
who are friendly to them announce that all the contumacious persons will
come up for judgment, and that the peers will then go off to their country
seats instead of taking their places. The following story had a wide
circulation yesterday: M. Jaubert, in speaking of the amnesty to M. Dupin,
said to him: "It is a little hard that after leaving to us all the odium of the
severe measures which we have courageously defended during the crisis
and danger we should now be deprived of the credit of showing mercy." M.
Dupin replied: "It is very sad, but you have one consolation, namely, that
Persil will order the medal to be struck." (M. Persil is a Doctrinaire and
Comptroller of the Mint.) The saying is a smart one. Those who approve the
amnesty also urge, and with some reason, that it will obliterate the ill-effect
produced by the excessive precautions on the day of the review.
Yesterday I was at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, where Sigalon, who has just
arrived from Rome, had placed the magnificent copy of the Last Judgment
of Michael Angelo, that masterpiece which is fading, like all the frescoes in
the Vatican. The copy is the same size as the original, and forms the
background of a hall, to which has been given the form and dimensions of
the Sistine Chapel. It is the most beautiful and surprising thing that can be
imagined. I was quite overwhelmed. Variety, richness, and boldness of
composition are so combined that one rests stupefied before the power of
such genius. In the same room have been placed casts of different statues by
Michael Angelo which also have arrived from Italy, and complete one's

admiration for this great man. The statue of Lorenzo de' Medici and the
statue of Day and Night are admirable. We then saw the charming gateway
to the castle of Anet and the beautiful door of the castle of Gaillon, both
masterpieces of the Renaissance; then came the interior courtyard, adorned
with fountains and fragments of ancient work, which was very fine. The
building in itself is in excellent style; it contains fine models of all classes
and ages of art, which will be added to. They form a collection as curious as
it is interesting, and add a new attraction to Paris.
Thence we went on to the new Church of Our Lady of Loretto. It seemed to
me extremely heavy and full of motley ornaments, and had it not been for
some fine pictures I should have found little agreeable to look at. It is said
to be in the style of the Italian churches, which I do not know; but to judge
from this specimen I would rather say my prayers under the lofty, bold, and
austere vaults, the hewn stone and Gothic arches of Notre-Dame and of
Saint-Etienne du Mont, than amid the glaring colours of this Southern
imitation. We finished our wanderings by a visit to the Church of the
Madeleine. The interior at present is in exact correspondence with the
outside, and it seems that Calchas is about to sacrifice Iphigenia upon it, to
such an extent have mythological subjects apparently pervaded this fine
building. They are already beginning to gild the arches and the capitals of
the columns, pretending that the white stone, though it is much enriched by
different kinds of marbling, is too cold to the eye. Thus they are preparing a
disagreeable contrast between the outside and the inside. I cannot
understand the vagaries of Christian worship.
In the evening at Madame de Lieven's house I saw Berryer, who does not
yield to M. Royer in his admiration for M. Thiers' speech. I heard that M.
Martin du Nord had given way upon the question of his subscription for
printing Guizot's speech, as upon other points. For one who calls himself a
member of the Opposition, he does not seem to oppose very strenuously.

Paris, May 11, 1837.—Yesterday I had a call from the excellent Abbé
Dupanloup. We were mutually anxious to meet, in the interests of Pauline,
before the general departure for the country. As usual, I was touched and
pleased by his kind and spiritual conversation. We talked of our hope that
the amnesty will inspire the Government with courage to reopen the Church

of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, the closing of which is the greatest scandal of
the July revolution; seeing that acts of mercy extend from Ham to the
Republic and to la Vendée, continued vindictiveness towards the church and
to leave the Cross broken would seem to me most inconsistent. The church
should be reopened without considering any difficulties that the Archbishop
may raise. He should thus be forced to appoint a reliable priest, and then to
go and express his thanks to the Tuileries, but he should set to work at once
while the effect of the amnesty remains all-powerful; at such a moment
there is no fear of any movement in the district, and this action would only
be the strongest answer to the Doctrinaires, whose tactics are to represent
the amnesty as the price of the compact made with the Left. To reopen the
Church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois would restore the balance. I think it
would be a politic move as well as a religious restoration; if we delay too
long the religious newspapers and people will begin to cry out, with reason,
against the injustice of it, and any later action will seem like a concession to
their complaints; then the Opposition will pounce upon it and foment
irritation with the measure. Everything, therefore, should be quite
spontaneous, the religious restoration no less than the royal mercy. I think
they will take the matter in hand; it should have been done already, in my
opinion.

Paris, May 14, 1837.—The Moniteur of yesterday, heaven be praised,
contains an ordinance by which the Church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois is
to be restored for worship. I am delighted. The Baron de Montmorency,
who came to see me in the morning, had dined yesterday at the Château,
where the Queen wept with joy at the news.
In the evening I went to pay a farewell visit at the Hôtel de Broglie, where
the amnesty was very unfavourably received, as Madame de Broglie is very
anxious to fortify Princess Helena in her Protestantism.
I then went on to the Duchesse de Montmorency, where I heard very bad
news of the Prince de Laval. He had caught a slight cold and had taken no
care of himself, but had gone to the races at Chantilly in very bitter weather.
His malady grew worse, and now causes great anxiety. I should be grieved
indeed if any misfortune happened to him, for in spite of his absurdities and
foolishness he has a good heart and is a good friend.

I finished the evening with Madame de Castellane. M. Molé came in and
told us that the Archbishop, accompanied by two of his Vicars-General, had
called upon him that evening and upon the Keeper of the Seals after a visit
to the King. It seems that his appearance in the Ministerial salons made a
great sensation. Before his visit the Archbishop had quietly had the church
blessed. Mass was said there this morning. A week will be spent in
necessary repairs, and next Sunday the new vicar will be installed. As M.
Dupanloup has refused this post, the choice has fallen upon M. Demerson,
the priest of Saint-Séverin, undoubtedly the most distinguished ecclesiastic
in the diocese. He is the confessor of Madame Andral, and the friend of her
father. M. Royer-Collard has often spoken to me of him and thinks a great
deal of him.

Paris, May 15, 1837.—Yesterday evening I was at the Tuileries. I found the
King delighted with a visit that he had paid in the morning to the Botanical
Gardens to see the new hothouses they have been setting up. He was well
applauded as he went by; in short, he seems to have grown young again.
Everybody about him is well pleased. He went there without an escort, and
spent two hours walking with the Minister of the Interior and of Education,
with the Prefect of Police and one aide-de-camp. The crowd kept on
increasing, and these gentlemen, who saw all the horrible faces from the
Rue Mouffetard and that quarter thronging round the King, were dying with
fear, but the King was delighted, and it was impossible to induce him to go
indoors. He was most heartily cheered by all the crowd. I think, however,
that it would not be advisable for him often to make such trials of his
popularity.

Paris, May 16, 1837.—The Prince de Laval is not getting on well. He has
been bled a second time, and the doctors say that his condition is serious.
It is possible that M. Dupanloup is ambitious; I do not know him well
enough to be positive. He is gentle, discreet, moderate, with a knowledge of
the world, a fine command of language and conversational tact, and, in
short, possesses every quality which the spiritual director of a society
personage should have. All his penitents and all their mothers think a great
deal of him. But this does not exclude ambition. I know that he lays great

stress upon keeping apart from politics, but when confronted with the
Archbishop he committed the venial sin of urging him to go to the Tuileries
and of going with him to the incumbent of Saint-Roch, whose curate and
friend he is. But the robe of ambition is like the chameleon's skin, the
colours of which change according to the observer's position. I can
therefore answer for nothing except that he has refused two important
livings at Paris. I know that the Archbishop secretly destines him for the
Madeleine when that living becomes vacant, and, in fact, it is a society
parish which will suit him best.

Paris, May 18, 1837.—Yesterday morning I was with Madame Adélaïde,
where I saw the King. Every one at the Château is busy with preparations
for the marriage and for the journey from Fontainebleau, which is to be a
splendid affair. I am delighted, and should be still more so if I had not heard
that not only the mothers but also the daughters are expected. I have done
my best to have my daughter excused, to avoid the infinite vexations which
I foresee, but M. de Talleyrand came in to Madame in the middle of our
discussion, and instead of supporting my views he opposed me. It is very
annoying.

Paris, May 19, 1837.—The death of the poor young Count Putbus is a very
sad event for his family and for the unfortunate Countess Buol. I am very
sorry for her, and her husband seems to me to be wanting in feeling and
tact. In his position with reference to his wife, he may separate from her
with as much uproar as he pleases, but if he will not do so from pecuniary
considerations he should behave himself quietly or at least humanely. In
any case I assert that for her it is better to lament her lover as dead than
faithless, and that, unhappy as she is, she would be still more so if Count
Putbus had abandoned her. A woman's danger when she finds her lover
faithless is that she may be roused to vengeance and may lose those
illusions which shelter her, not only against faults, but against hardness of
heart and frivolity, properly so called. Death leaves us all our illusions, and
even encourages them.

Paris, May 21, 1837.—M. de Talleyrand, M. and Madame de Valençay,
Pauline, and myself are invited to stay at Fontainebleau throughout the
festivities—that is to say, we are to come on May 29 and to stay till June 3,
inclusive. This is a favour, as nearly everybody else has been invited at
successive intervals of twenty-four hours.
One of my German friends, a canoness, and a clever and intelligent
person, [66] writes to me as follows concerning the Princess Helena of
Mecklenburg: "The most amiable, the best educated, the kindest of the
German princesses is to adorn the throne of France. I am sure that she will
please you greatly. She is as cheerful as a child of fifteen, with as much
sense as a person of thirty. She combines the charm of every age."
The Marquis de Praslin and the Duke of Treviso are the two knights-of-
honour in subordination to the uncivilised Duc de Coigny, who will lead
them.

Paris, May 22, 1837.—The Duc d'Orléans will first go to Verdun, to see
without being seen, and then to Melun to be seen. Henry IV. in disguise
went to the frontier to see Marie de Medici at supper, and Louis XIV. did
the same at Fontarabia.
Among the persons invited to Fontainebleau there is one who certainly
could not have been forgotten, in my opinion, and this is the great Mlle.
Palmyre, the famous dressmaker. The fact is that she has been working
upon a pattern sent from Mecklenburg, but I am by no means certain that
this pattern is a good one or well made. Thus the eighty dresses of the
trousseau may fit badly, and it is just as well to have some one there to
make readjustments when necessary. Merchants, workmen, omnibuses, and
post-chaises are all in confusion; the expenditure, the orders, and the
activity are inconceivable. It is impossible to get anything, and tradesmen
certainly have not the right to complain, for every one is on the move. A
crowd of foreigners have also arrived at Paris, most of them English.
The Werther family have resolved to leave immediately after the marriage
of the Prince Royal, without waiting for the festivities, for Herr von Werther
has agreed to take M. Ancillon's place. They are very good people, who will
be regretted at Paris, and who are also very sorry to leave.

Paris, May 25, 1837.—For the 29th and 30th, the days of arrival and
marriage, the Marshals have been invited to Fontainebleau, with the
officials of the two Chambers, the Ministries of October 11, February 22,
September 6, and all the present Cabinet. I have always said that
Fontainebleau was a chronological castle. It was resolved not to go further
back than October 11, to avoid the necessity of inviting M. Laffitte. All the
chief presidents of the courts have also been invited, and of the Diplomatic
Body Herr and Frau von Werther, [67] M. and Madame Lehon. [68] The rest are
invited for the other days, two at a time.
I must mention an incident concerning Madame Molé, who vegetates rather
than lives. The other evening at the Duchesse de Montmorency's people
were saying how sorry the Werthers were. She asked why. "At leaving
Paris, of course." She replied: "But to go to Fontainebleau is not very sad
nor very tiring." "But, madame, Herr von Werther is going to Berlin to take
the place of M. Ancillon." "Oh, then M. Ancillon is coming here?" I do not
think that after such an experience any one will accuse M. Molé of
betraying diplomatic secrets to his wife.
The Queen of England has written a charming letter to the French Queen
concerning the marriage of the Prince Royal, and, in view of her close
relationship with Princess Helena, has sent her a magnificent Indian shawl,
one of the most beautiful that has ever come out of the wealthy storehouses
of the Company. It is said to be a marvel. I shall see it at Fontainebleau,
where the wedding presents will be displayed.

Paris, May 26, 1837.—The King of England held the last Drawing-room
seated; since then he has felt worse, and people are anxious about him. It is
said that he wished to live long enough to thwart the desires of the Duchess
of Kent, by not leaving her to act as Regent for a single day, and the
Princess Victoria attained her majority two days ago.
They say that anarchy is at its height at Madrid, and also that Don Carlos is
at his wits' end.
The Duc de Broglie and the gentlemen of his suite are writing enthusiastic
letters about the Princess Helena. All say that she has a very pleasant
appearance; all seem to be in love with her, and cannot speak enough of her

delightful manners, while she is said to be excellently dressed. The
trousseau, which has been ordered here, is said to be very magnificent.

Fontainebleau, May 30, 1837.—Writing here is a feat of some ingenuity.
The weather was too fine yesterday, and a great storm followed; it burst in
the morning, and cleared ten minutes before the arrival of the Princess, who
was received in bright sunlight and with much emotion. Her arrival was a
fine spectacle; a family scene amid the most royal splendour. The Princess
showed much emotion, no embarrassment, nobility and grace, and was
equal to the occasion. I do not know if she is pretty; she is so gracious that
people have not considered that point. She reminds one a little of Madame
de Marescalchi, but is of a much more German type, while the lower part of
her face recedes a trifle. She has beautiful hair, a good complexion—in
short, she looks very well, and the Prince Royal is well pleased.
Pauline never left my side even at dinner, to which I was taken in by the
Baron von Werther. He was placed between the Grand Duchess of
Mecklenburg and myself. M. de Talleyrand was far from well yesterday, yet
by force of will he kept a smiling countenance. I was very anxious about
him the whole time.
Until to-morrow we shall number two hundred and eighty at table.
Yesterday the day began for me at half-past five in the morning at Paris, and
finished here at one o'clock at night. At ten o'clock I must be fully dressed
for the Queen's mass.

Fontainebleau, May 31, 1837.—The two most exhausting days have
passed, for which I thank heaven, as I have been trembling the whole time
for M. de Talleyrand, who has been so incredibly rash as to undergo these
severe trials. However, he has seen everything, and has come through with
little more than fatigue.
Those who wish to be correct follow the Queen to her private mass in the
morning. Pauline has just taken me into a charming little chapel, in memory
of Louis VII., the Young.

The two German princesses were not visible yesterday for the whole
morning. The time before dinner was filled up by walks, for those who were
tempted, of whom I was not one, and the inspection of the wedding presents
for the rest, of whom I was one. The presents and the dresses are most fine
and magnificent, especially the case by Buhl which contained the shawls,
which was one of the finest things I have seen. The whole was exhibited in
the rooms of the Queen Mother. The diamonds are beautiful, and the jewels
numerous, in different styles, but there are no pearls. The Duc d'Orléans
does not like them, and the Princess can also wear the Crown pearls.
The royal family dined in private. Madame de Dolomieu and General
Athalin presided at the table of two hundred and eighty guests in the Diana
Gallery. Pauline was again near me at dinner, and M. Thiers on the other
side.
At half-past eight the civil marriage took place in the room of Henry II., a
superb spectacle in the most beautiful surroundings imaginable, and
magnificently lighted. The Chancellor, M. Pasquier, who was recently
appointed to this post, was in his ermine robes at a great red and gold table,
around which stood all who were witnessing the ceremony, with the bridal
pair in front of him. We made our way there in procession. Then we went
on to the great chapel, ornamented with the shields of France and Navarre.
The exhortation given by the Bishop of Meaux [69] was both short and well
weighed. Unfortunately, in the case of mixed marriages many ceremonies
have to be omitted which would add to the picturesqueness of the scene.
The priest of Fontainebleau, who is the famous Abbé Lieutard, and hitherto
one of the chief opponents of the present Government, assisted the Bishop,
and even claimed to do so as a right. The hall, which was arranged as a
Protestant church, could hardly hold us, and the crowd was suffocating; the
exhortation of the pastor, M. Cuvier, was very long and very dull, going
back to the creation of the world, with continual references to procreation.
It was puritanism itself. Before the blessing he asked the bride permission
to perform a duty with which he had been entrusted by the Biblical Society,
and offered her a Bible, in which he urged her to read constantly. I thought
the act quite out of place at such a moment, and very disrespectful to the
Queen, who is making a great sacrifice from the religious point of view.

The Princess was perfectly calm the whole time; I noticed no nervousness,
and less emotion than at the time of her arrival. She was perfectly well
dressed. Unfortunately she has no colour, and thus wants a certain lustre,
but in spite of her thinness she is graceful and charmingly simple. Her feet
are long and well made and her hands are white and delicate; in short, she is
a person of much attraction.
After all these ceremonies we separated. I went to look after M. de
Talleyrand, about whom I was anxious, and whom I found very well. M.
Molé came in, in a bad temper. It is indeed strange that throughout this
affair he has obtained no favours of any kind.

Fontainebleau, June 1, 1837.—There is no political news to be learnt here.
The Princes are absorbed in themselves; M. de Salvandy, the only Minister
on duty near the King, is in the same state. Curiosity is turned away from
politics, and there is enough here to arouse it and satisfy it.
Yesterday was spent as follows: After lunch came a very long drive in the
forest; twenty-six carriages, each with four horses, the great royal coach
with eight horses, and then eighty riding horses, all conducted by the richly
liveried servants of Orléans, were assembled in the great courtyard of the
Cheval Blanc, and provided a general opportunity for excursions. We
hastened to follow the King and to traverse the most beautiful parts of the
forest. Many sightseers who were seen galloping most imprudently among
the rocks joined the royal procession, and gave the wood an animated and
charming aspect.
I forgot to say that lunch had been preceded by a mass said by the Bishop of
Meaux in the great chapel. Every one was there, including the royal family
and the Duchesse d'Orléans. I should have been glad yesterday, when there
was no mixed marriage to consider and when only the King's mass was
being said, if the service had been finely rendered with appropriate music.
Instead of that there was nothing of the kind; there were no clergy and not a
sound of music; even the bell for the moment of elevation was forgotten.
Methodists display much more trickery in their pretentious simplicity and
their affected and solemn speech; but at mass, where the words cannot be
heard, outward show is necessary, with incense, music, flowers, gold, and

bells, and all that can stir the soul by uplifting it to God without the
necessity of hearing the words pronounced.
Many people have gone and others have come, including the Turkish
Ambassador, [70] who sat by Pauline at dinner. The theatre hall has not been
restored, and looks faded; the orchestra, which was not from Paris, was
abominable; Mlle. Mars has grown old, and no longer played her parts
properly; the other actors were very poor, and the choice of plays was not
happy. These were False Confidences and The Unexpected Wager. The
Princess Royal was in the great box at the back of the hall, between the
King and Queen. She listened attentively, but her face does not express her
feelings, and does not change. She is always gentle and calm to the point of
immobility, and makes no gestures, which is a mark of distinction. Perfect
repose gives a sense of dignity, and when she walks or bows she does it
with perfect grace.
M. Humann, when he went away yesterday, was run away with by the post-
horses down the hill of Chailly. He jumped out of the carriage, bruised his
face, and put his shoulder out.

Fontainebleau, June 2, 1837.—Yesterday was not so full as the preceding
days, as after mass, lunch, and the gathering after lunch, we were left with a
few hours' freedom. I spent them with M. de Talleyrand or in the town. M.
de Talleyrand went to see Madame Adélaïde, to whom he wished to give a
piece of news which reached us from the Bauffremont family, who were
interested by it, and which, to speak truly, has produced a sad effect here. It
is the announcement of the marriage of the Count of Syracuse, brother to
the King of Naples, with Philiberte de Carignan. This young person is the
granddaughter of the Comte de Villefranche, the prince of the house of
Carignan who married, in a fit of folly, the daughter of a boat-builder at St.
Malo, Mlle. Magon Laballue. The Sardinian Court only consented to
recognise the marriage on condition that the children of it should enter
religious orders; the revolution destroyed this obligation, and the son
entered the army and married Mlle. de La Vauguyon, sister of the Dowager-
Duchess of Bauffremont, who was burnt to death in 1820. It was only after
her death and the accession of the present King of Sardinia that the last two
children were recognised as princes of the blood and treated as such. The

eldest daughter was married before this concession to a private individual of
high family, the Prince of Arsoli, a Roman family. Philiberte, the daughter
and granddaughter of marriages contested or doubtful, thus becomes
Princess of Naples. The marriage, by licence, must have taken place the day
before yesterday with much haste and precipitation. The displeasure it will
cause here is obvious. The King of Naples is at the bottom of it.
Yesterday after dinner we went to hear Duprez in part of the opera William
Tell, and the Esslers danced in a pretty ballet. I was surprised that the
Princess Royal never lost her calm, even at the most exciting points of
Duprez' acting. I never saw a movement of her head, a gesture, or any
greater animation in her face. The same was true during the ballet, which I
can better understand.

Fontainebleau, June 3, 1837.—M. de Talleyrand started this morning with
Pauline. They wish to keep me here until to-morrow. No one could have
been surrounded with greater regard and attention than has been shown to
M. de Talleyrand; he was quite overcome as he went away. The King and
Madame Adélaïde have insisted that he shall return to Paris for next winter,
but I do not think that he will give up his project of going to Nice.
Pauline's stay here has done her no harm. She has always behaved perfectly
and pleased me much. She was delighted to be in the same room with me.
Her dress was in excellent taste, and she has gone away very pleased to
have been here, but also glad to go and in no way dissipated in heart or
mind.
Nearly every one has gone, and only those on regular duty and intimate
friends remain. I am starting to-morrow at the same time as the Queen and
the Duchesse d'Albuféra, who came here yesterday. The country drive was
very pretty, animated and popular. We then went into the prettiest part of the
forest, called the Calvaire, whence there is an admirable view. From the
depths of the ravines over which we hung singers who had been stationed
there raised their song. It was delightful, and the weather, wonderful to
relate, lent such a charm to the drive that it was prolonged. We eventually
returned past the large vine arbour and the canal.

After dinner we had a tiresome comic opera, The Flash, followed by The
Caliph of Bagdad, for which the King had asked as an old favourite. It was
very late before this was over, and as I stayed up with M. de Talleyrand my
sleep was cut short, the more so as his early departure obliged me to be
ready in good time. The King and Madame came to say good-bye to him in
his room. After lunch the King amused himself by showing the Château to
three or four guests. I was delighted both with the Château and with our
guide.

Paris, June 5, 1837.—I came back yesterday from Fontainebleau. Mass was
said at six o'clock in the morning, and then the departure took place. I was
included in the royal company, and thus arrived in excellent time, not
leaving them until they turned off for Saint-Cloud. The last day at
Fontainebleau, the day before yesterday, was occupied much to my taste, by
a historical excursion, and in the evening we had a theatrical performance
by actors from the Gymnasium. The whole stay at Fontainebleau was very
pleasant, as I received much attention and kindness.
As soon as I arrived yesterday I went to the Champs Elysées to Madame de
Flahaut's house; she had urgently begged me to come and see the royal
entry, for which the weather was magnificent. There was a vast crowd and a
most brilliant procession, the Princess bowing with perfect grace. The view
from the Place Louis XV. and the Champs Elysées was magnificent. All
went off very well, but there was not enough cheering and more curiosity
than enthusiasm. People opened their eyes but not their mouths. The main
point is that there were no pistol-shots, and that the King was able to show
himself to the crowd without any apparent precautions.

Paris, June 6, 1837.—Yesterday I saw M. Royer-Collard, who was
somewhat displeased with the marriage of the Prince Royal, as a man of the
Faubourg Saint-Germain might well be. I was vexed with him, and we had
a small quarrel. He is partial in his views, and his conversation is intolerant
to an extraordinary degree.
The day before yesterday in the garden of the Tuileries there were more
than sixty thousand people present from eleven o'clock in the morning to

eleven at night, and such real enthusiasm that the King was obliged to leave
his state dinner in the Hall of the Marshals and come out upon the balcony
with his family, whence he uttered a few words of thanks, which were
received with infinite delight. From the moment of entering the garden until
the march past of the troops the royal family remained in the Pavillon de
l'Horloge, whence there was a magnificent view. The setting sun gilded the
top of the Obelisk and the Arc de Triomphe, and was reflected upon the
arms and cuirasses of the troops; the benches of the National Guard were
adorned with flowers. I am assured that it was a real transformation scene.
There seems to be much inclination towards a dissolution of the Chamber,
at any rate on the part of M. Molé. M. Royer-Collard is vigorously urging
him in that direction.
The Turkish Ambassador here can speak a few words of French. This
discovery is due to myself, for every one took his professed ignorance so
literally as not to speak a word to him. He looked so dull that I felt sorry for
him, and made a venture. He replied in a few words, and the result is that I
have been allowed to see the portrait of Sultan Mahmoud, who seems to be
very handsome.

Paris, June 7, 1837.—Yesterday I called upon the Queen to thank her for
Fontainebleau. The Duchesse d'Orléans was with her mother-in-law,
gracious, pretty, and amiable. She is a real treasure, and is generally
popular. She delighted the Council of State, the peers, and the Deputies by
adding a kind phrase to the answer which her husband returned to the
different speeches. She has spoken individually to each peer, and never in
commonplaces. They are all delighted.
My awakening this morning was a sad one, as news was brought to me of
the death of Adrien de Laval. He was a sincere friend, and they are scarce. I
am very sorry, both for him and for his aunt the good Vicomtesse de Laval,
who is hardly able to bear such a shock; and if she also should be carried off
it would be a heavy blow to M. de Talleyrand.

Paris, June 8, 1837.—The popularity of the Princess Royal increases
steadily. She has even been talking to General Neigre, of the Antwerp

Artillery. The Duc d'Orléans is extremely proud and happy at the respect
shown to her. It is certain that the personal influence of his wife increases
his own importance, and I already see that the Pavillon Marsan will rise
superior to the Pavillon de Flore. [71] I am not sure that some small jealousy
has not already arisen.
The following story is related as a fact: The Duchesse d'Orléans saw her
husband turn his opera-glasses for a long time in the direction of Madame
Lehon. She then turned to him and took away the opera-glasses, saying, half
jestingly and half seriously: "That is no compliment to me, and is not polite
to the person at whom you look." He is said to have offered no objection to
her action, and if this is true it is noteworthy.
M. de Flahaut is furious because he has not received the Grand Cordon of
the Legion of Honour. He had proposed to resign his post as First Equerry,
but has changed his mind. It is said that the Duc de Coigny refuses him any
authority except over the stable.

Paris, June 11, 1837.—I cannot give many details concerning yesterday's
festivity at Versailles. I started about one o'clock in full dress, with the
Duchesse d'Albuféra, and we came back together at four o'clock in the
morning. The weather was beautiful, the spot admirable, the gardens in
regal state, the inside of the house splendid, and the sight magnificent. It
lasted for five hours. My eyes are smarting with the glare of the lights.
Fifteen hundred people were invited, and yet some are displeased; I admit
that I should have drawn up the lists in another way.
I had the honour of dining at the King's table, for whom it was a great day.
At the last set piece there was a tremendous shout of "Long live the King!"
and it was well deserved.
Count Rantzau, who is escorting the Dowager Grand Duchess of
Mecklenburg, was deeply touched to see in an honourable position the
portrait of Marshal Rantzau, who served under Louis XIV., and whose
descendant he is. He sat by me at dinner, and I drew a great deal out of him
concerning the Princesses, whom I esteem more highly every day.

Paris, June 12, 1837.—I am starting to-morrow to rejoin M. de Talleyrand
at Valençay.
The King of England is most seriously ill, and is only kept alive with
curaçao and raw meat. He knows that he is dying, and is calling his family
round him: the FitzClarences, and even Lord Munster. Mr. Caradoc is said
to be taking Sir John Conroy's place with the Duchess of Kent. He sends for
presents for her, the cost of which is paid by the Princess Bagration. It is
said that if the King dies the Duchess of Kent will summon Lord Moira to
the post of Prime Minister, who is a great Radical; others say that King
Leopold is advising his niece to take Lord Palmerston, but the little Princess
is inclined to Lord Grey.

Valençay, June 14, 1837.—I have just arrived, after a tiring journey in
dreadful heat and two thunderstorms. M. de Talleyrand is very well, as also
is Pauline.

Valençay, June 17, 1837.—Madame Adélaïde has sent M. de Talleyrand
details of the accidents which took place upon the day of the fireworks;
twenty-three persons were suffocated in the crowd and thirty-nine are
injured. This has naturally caused much grief. The Duchesse d'Orléans was
anxious not to go to the entertainment at the Hôtel de Ville and to cancel the
balls; but it was pointed out to her that many people would be disappointed
and much expense needlessly incurred. Festivities have therefore been
postponed until after the funeral of the victims.
It seems that the fireworks, the illuminations, and especially the sham fight,
were remarkably beautiful. Popular festivities are hardly ever held without
accidents, and I am always afraid of them. The victims all belong to the
working class, which makes their case still sadder, and some of them leave
their families in poverty.

Valençay, June 18, 1837.—Pauline has made a conquest of the Archbishop
of Bourges, Mgr. de Villèle, who called here before my arrival. She is said
to have done the honours of the Castle remarkably well, with unusual self-
possession, grace, and propriety. I am not sorry that she was obliged to try.

Considerable restorations are being made in our great castle. The northern
part of the moat has been cleaned out, and the wretched little gardens which
blocked the approach to it have been cleared away; there is now a walk all
the way round. The belfry upon the town church looks very well, and in
general the place seems improved.
Hostile newspapers try to draw comparisons between the accidents at the
fireworks and the sad scenes upon the marriage of Louis XVI., and the
catastrophe at the Schwarzenberg ball at the time of the Emperor
Napoleon's marriage. They draw omens from these coincidences. But what
more disastrous coincidence could there be for the elder branch of the
Bourbons than the assassination of the Duc de Berry and the revolution of
1830? Yet no misfortune happened at the marriage of this Prince. It is not in
consequence of such special incidents that kings lose their thrones.
The Municipal Council at Paris has voted a hundred and fifty thousand
francs for the further expenses of the festivity. Everything is on so large a
scale that the hire of glasses and water-bottles costs four thousand francs.
Ices and refreshments to the amount of twenty thousand francs were
distributed on the day when the festival was postponed to the workmen and
to the hospitals. The patients will have a feast, and smart sayings are in
circulation concerning the indigestion they are likely to get.

Valençay, June 19, 1837.—A German newspaper has a story of a vision
which the Duchesse d'Orléans is said to have seen, and speaks of her idea of
playing the part of a second Joan of Arc. All this is doubtless ridiculous; at
the same time there is some mysticism in her desire to come to France, for
M. Bresson, the most prosaic of men, has several times told me this: "She
thinks she has a vocation, and has seen a special call of Providence in this
marriage proposal; her mother-in-law, who is inclined to the Pietist sect,
was swayed by the same idea."
The following has also been told me by Count Rantzau: Upon the day when
he learnt of Meunier's attempted assassination of the King, negotiations for
the marriage had been already opened. He was unable to hide from the
Princess his fear of the fate towards which she was inclined. She then
replied: "Stop, sir; the news that you give me, far from shaking my will,

only confirms it. Providence has perhaps destined me to receive a shot
intended for the King, and thus to save his life. I shall not shrink from my
mission."
There is thus a strong strain of fanaticism in her, which in no way spoils her
extreme simplicity of manner or the remarkable calm of her bearing. This is
so unusual a combination that I have been more struck by it than by any of
her other good qualities.

Valençay, June 22, 1837.—Madame Adélaïde has written a long letter to M.
de Talleyrand, with full details of the entertainment at the Town Hall, which
seems to have been the most beautiful thing of this kind, and far more
magnificent than anything else that has yet been done. The King was
admirably received as he passed through the streets and at the Town Hall.
There were five thousand persons at this entertainment. Princess Helena
thought the diorama of Ludwiglust [72] perfectly like the original.

Valençay, June 25, 1837.—So the old King of England is dead. I was
interested to read the manner in which the young Queen was proclaimed at
London, in her own presence from the balcony of St. James's Palace. This
beautiful and touching scene is marked by a very pleasing restraint.

Valençay, June 28, 1837.—A widely circulated rumour at Paris asserts that
Mr. Caradoc intends to secure a divorce from Princess Bagration—an easy
process; that he will be made a peer and will become the husband of the
young Queen. He asserts his descent from the Kings of Ireland. All this I
believe to be nonsense, but meanwhile the young Queen is so charmed with
him that she will do and say nothing without his consent.
Here is another story: Charles X. had given the Duc de Maillé a picture for
the church of Lormois; the family has just sold it to a dealer for fifty-three
thousand francs; the result has been a dispute with the Civil List officials,
who assert that Charles X. had no right to present the picture. Pamphlets
have been printed setting forth the case on either side. If the dealer is
obliged to restore the picture he will force the Maillé family to return the
fifty-three thousand francs. Apart from this picture, the family found that

the inheritance of the Duc de Maillé consisted solely of debts. It is certain
that if the picture came from one of the museums or one of the royal castles
Charles X. had no right to give it away. It is all very unpleasant.

Valençay, June 29, 1837.—M. de Sémonville was introduced in the evening
by the Queen herself to the Duchesse d'Orléans at the Round Table. He told
the Princess that only the kindness of the Queen could have induced him to
show her so old a face. "You mean so old a reputation," replied the Princess.
The old cat sheathed his claws and was pleased.

Valençay, July 1, 1837.—I hear from Paris that the situation of public affairs
is regarded as satisfactory at the moment, although the Ministerial elections
have generally shown opposition. At Strasburg, Grenoble, and Montpellier
they were absolutely Republican. Many people assert that the Ministry
should dissolve the Chamber, as it is worn out. They urge that the marriage
of the Prince Royal and the amnesty make the present moment favourable,
that later on circumstances will not, perhaps, be so advantageous, but that
the King refuses to consider the idea. M. Royer-Collard writes to me on the
same subject: "I think that M. Molé is inclined to dissolution, and the King,
though he will not yet accept it, will be led to it by force of circumstances.
The Chamber is exhausted and can carry on no longer." As a postscript he
adds: "I have had a long interview with M. Molé, and I am to see him again;
he has decided to propose, and therefore to carry out, the plan of
dissolution. I did not urge him, but I am of his opinion. The Chamber can
no longer go on, and a dissolution need only be desired and accepted to
become necessary."
Finally Madame de Lieven writes to me as follows immediately before
starting for England: "M. de Flahaut was anxious to secure the
complimentary mission to London. He has been obliged to give way to
General Baudrand, which has increased the bad temper both of the husband
and the wife. Sébastiani is so ill that he is useless at London; I really do not
know who keeps your Court informed. Madame de Flahaut is working as
hard as she can to secure the recall of Granville from Paris and the
appointment of Lord Durham to his post, with the double idea of removing
a competitor from Palmerston's path and having an ambassador at Paris

inclined to intrigue. Granville's chief merit was that he had no such
tendency. In my opinion Durham will have to have his way, as he will no
longer stay at St. Petersburg and wants something better. Your Deputies are
said to be dispersing in uneasiness and discontent. M. Molé says that he
wants a dissolution, but that the King does not.
"M. Molé's last reception was well attended. A hundred and fifty deputies
came to M. Guizot's party. M. Thiers has written from Lucca that his wife
suffered severely from sea-sickness."

Valençay, July 6, 1837.—The following is an extract from a letter from
Madame de Lieven dated from Boulogne: "I have seen M. Molé and M.
Guizot at the last moment; the former had received a letter from Barante.
My Sovereign's ill-temper is in no way improved, and is even worse than
before. It is a hopeless case, as he is going mad. M. Molé is certainly
jealous of Guizot. I have some very amusing things to tell you on that
subject, which have all happened since your departure. There are some
strange characters in the world, and as I naturally have a sense of humour, I
laugh."
I should like to know the details of this rivalry, which seems to me so
improbable, from the nature of its object, that I am inclined to think the
Princess has been led astray by feminine vanity. She confuses jealousy with
the susceptibility native to character.
I have a letter from Baron de Montmorency, the executor of the Prince de
Laval, telling me that the latter, in a pencilled note, written the evening
before his death, has left me a souvenir which he is sending me. I am deeply
touched by it.

Rochecotte, July 11, 1837.—I arrived here yesterday, and am obliged to go
out on business. The valley of the Loire is superb. The spring is late this
year, and the foliage is therefore unusually green for this season. My plants
have all grown very well, the climbers especially, and the flowers are
abundant; everything seems in excellent order.

Rochecotte, July 12, 1837.—Yesterday I went round my house; small
improvements are slowly being carried out.
I was much struck by the effect of the Sistine Madonna in the drawing-
room, which has taken the place of the Corinne, which has gone to the
drawing-room of the Abbé's house. The change is almost symbolical, and
shows the difference between the spirit of my past and that which now
dominates me, or, to speak more accurately, is gaining ground; progress is
by no means rapid.

Rochecotte, July 13, 1837.—Yesterday it only rained for half the day, and I
was able to go round my little empire, which I found in very good
condition. I shall be sorry presently to tear myself away from it. I propose
to dine and sleep at Tours, and shall be back at Valençay to-morrow.
I was able yesterday to visit my hydraulic rams. [73] Nothing takes up less
room or produces a better result. Many workmen come to see them, and
several landowners wish to imitate them; it is really an admirable invention.
I have now water for the kitchen, the stables, and everywhere, and next year
I shall present myself with a fire-engine.

Valençay, July 15, 1837.—I left Tours yesterday morning. Before starting I
saw the sad sight of a man killed by lightning. His companion only had his
legs broken, and was being taken to the hospital for a double amputation.
I had lunch at Loches, where I visited everything: the tomb of Agnès Sorel,
the oratory of Anne of Brittany, and a curious church, the prison of
Ludovico Sforza. I admired the magnificent panorama from the top of the
towers. We then stopped at Montrésor, to inspect one of the prettiest
Renaissance churches I have seen. It is built by the side of an old castle,
which was begun by the famous Foulques Nera, the greatest builder before
Louis-Philippe.
At the ironworks of Luçay [74] I found horses from the house, which brought
me here very quickly.

Valençay, July 18, 1837.—With regard to the trial of General de Rigny, I
can say that the General was deeply hurt, and reasonably so, because the
Government wished to punish him after his brilliant acquittal before the
Council of War; he declared to the Minister of War that if they chose that
moment to deprive him of the command of Lille, he would accuse Marshal
Clausel before the civil courts, and without in any way sparing him, as he
had felt obliged to do at Marseilles. The Minister of War told him that he
had wished to give him the command, but that the King objected. M. Molé
and the whole Council said the same, and Baron Louis, uncle of General de
Rigny, thought it well to go to Neuilly and demand an explanation from the
King. The King said that the General had been proved guilty of
insubordination, to which the poor old uncle replied: "But your Majesty is
surely ready to recognise the judgment that has been passed; the Council of
War admitted that the remarks attributed to my nephew were libellous; all
that we can now do is to prosecute the Marshal." The King then replied:
"Ah, I did not know that. I will look into the details of the trial, and then we
shall see." [75]
The fact is that at the Château anybody called Rigny is in bad odour, for the
opposite reason from that which has made the fortune of M. Bresson. It is
not enough to be a devoted servant of the Government; one must also be,
and always have been, an Orléanist.
I have received Madame de Lieven's first letter from London. She seems
delighted with the magnificence of her hosts' style of living, the Duke and
Duchess of Sutherland, and also by the attentions of her friends. She says
that the young Queen is a marvel of dignity and industry, and is not to be
led, even by her mother. She manages her whole Court herself, and as the
Duchess of Sutherland is Mistress of the Robes the Princess sees the notes
that the Queen writes on the occasion of the Court functions, which are
models of good arrangement and propriety. The Duchess of Sutherland is in
charge of all arrangements, and is even above the Lord Chamberlain.
Apparently she can become a second Duchess of Marlborough if she likes.
When the Queen receives addresses on her throne the Duchess of
Sutherland stands at her right hand, while the Duchess of Kent, the Queen's
mother, is seated below the steps. The Queen wishes to review the troops on
horseback, and what she wishes she does. Lord Melbourne is all-powerful
and the Whigs are triumphant; the elections will be keenly fought; it is the

Tories' last chance. Lord Durham has resumed his power over the Radicals,
who flatter him, and the Queen does not share her mother's liking for him.
The English crown has no diamonds. The very beautiful diamonds of the
Queen-Dowager are her own property, and came to her from her mother-in-
law, the old Queen Charlotte, who bequeathed them to the crown of
Hanover. As this crown is now separated from the English crown, the Duke
of Cumberland, as King of Hanover, reclaims the diamonds. Thus Queen
Victoria has none, and although she is in no hurry to send back these jewels
she will not wear them.
Count Orloff has been sent to London to compliment the Queen. Madame
de Lieven hopes to learn from him how far she can defy the Emperor, her
master.
M. Thiers wrote to her from Florence that he was not satisfied with the
treaty concluded with Abd-el-Kader.

Valençay, July 26, 1837.—Letters received this morning seem to show that
the resolution to dissolve the Chamber has been retracted, or has given rise
at any rate to hesitation. The audacious declaration of the King of Hanover,
the success of Don Carlos, and the fear of seeing the English elections turn
in a Radical direction is said to give rise to apprehension here of definite
mandates and republican tendencies in the coming general elections.
The Court is at the town of Eu, and from thence will go on to Saint-Cloud.
The Dowager Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg accompanies its movements.
She is liked and respected, and, feeling that her position will not be
agreeable in Germany, she is in no hurry to return, and is somewhat afraid
of the solitude that there awaits her.
Yesterday I had a letter from M. Royer-Collard, who is in Paris, from which
the following is an extract: "Dissolution resounds throughout all
correspondence, even in that from the Minister of the Interior. Conditions,
however, are laid down: if Don Carlos does not reach Madrid, if the King of
Hanover is not overthrown, if the English elections give no cause for terror;
these reservations are due to the character and policy of the King, who does
not care to run risks, and who spares the Doctrinaires by leaving them some

hope. The decision is to come from M. Molé, who would leave them
nothing. In neither case is there any consideration as to whether the step in
itself is good or bad: 'It will all pass over.' For my part, if I am allowed to
express an opinion, it is precisely those cases which are considered capable
of postponement that I would never postpone. I do not know what the new
Chamber will be like, nor do I expect miracles from it, but I regard the old
Chamber as inadequate and entirely incompetent, if any important
resolution is required."
I have also a letter from M. Thiers from Florence. He seems to be sad and
uneasy about his wife's health; he speaks of her with warm and tender
anxiety, and says that this is his only trouble and that he defies politics to
disturb his equanimity henceforward. He adds: "I have returned to literature
and philosophy; like the classical Bossuet, I enjoy the spectacle of human
affairs in monuments and books—that is to say, in the memorials of men of
former times. I claim the power of discovering the truth from a mere hint,
and as this is the method of historical investigation I believe I have a good
knowledge and understanding of the past. This presumption of mine, which
harms nobody, neither M. Guizot nor King Louis-Philippe, nor Prince
Metternich, would enable me to live very happily and busily if I were
spared family cares. I shall therefore do all that I possibly can to remain as I
am; I wish to improve, to increase my intellectual and moral powers, and
this can be done better in retirement than anywhere else, as one then has
time for reflection and study, undisturbed by selfish considerations. If some
fine position should appear some day when I have made myself what I can
become, well and good; but to spend one's life bandied about between the
King and his demands for an appanage and the Chamber with its refusals, to
be constantly harassed by the Tuileries and the Palais Bourbon, by people
who are never grateful and make you the butt of their grievances without
the only recompense for the troubles of position, the power to do good—all
this is simply not worth while. I say this with full meaning, and as I am
happy enough to see that my feelings are shared by those about me, I shall
maintain my point of view; so that this winter you will see me in entire
freedom."

Valençay, August 1, 1837.—M. de Vandœuvre came to pay us a visit
yesterday. He told us an amusing story of Madame de Boigne, who had

been invited to dinner with M. and Madame de Salvandy. When she arrived
she found only the lady of the house, who apologised for her husband and
said that he could not appear at dinner because he was ill. They sat down
without him, but when they went back to the drawing-room they found the
young Minister, as he calls himself, carelessly reposing in a long chair, in
Turkish slippers and a fine flowered dressing-gown, with a smoking cap
embroidered by ladies' hands cocked over one ear. The sharp and prudish
face of Madame de Boigne at that moment is said to have been
indescribable.
The daughter of the Duchesse de Plaisance has died of typhoid fever at
Beyrout, in Syria; her father told me the news. The fate of the unhappy
mother, of whom at present I know nothing, causes me grief and anxiety.
She was a good friend to me at a time when I had but few friends, and I
cannot forget it.

Valençay, August 4, 1837.—I have read the article upon Madame de
Krüdener in the Revue des deux Mondes. She was a Courlandaise, and I
have seen her at my mother's house, with whom she struck up a small
friendship. My mother also thought, and rightly, that it was her duty to take
some notice of all her compatriots. Madame de Krüdener was an
adventuress by nature, and if she had not been well born she would have
been recognised as such long before her final absurdities. From 1814 until
her death she lived surrounded by a gang of scoundrels, who followed her
about Europe and presented an unpleasant sight which was anything rather
than evangelical. They were a strange company of apostles.
People who are easily excited, animated and changeable, ready for
anything, attracted in the most opposite directions, are often regarded as
hypocrites, simply because they are changeable, and one is always tempted
to doubt their sincerity. Such is the case of M. Thiers. I am sure he is very
happy as he writes in his villa at Careggi, [76] amid recollections of the
Medici, and that he is also entirely disgusted with Paris. Ardent and
impetuous natures, equally ready for any enterprise, are unfortunately often
misjudged by characters more happily balanced. I know something of this
from my own experience. We shall undoubtedly see M. Thiers once more in
the arena of politics and ambition, but to-day he sincerely believes that he

has left it for ever. The advantage of such natures as his, and perhaps as
mine, consists in the fact that they are never wholly cast down and are so
supple and elastic that they accommodate themselves to the most different
situations; but it must be admitted that corresponding inconveniences are
involved. Their judgment of things and of people is often too rapid, and
their execution is often too quick and too complete; by springing from rock
to rock they are always in danger, and sometimes fall; they then descend to
an abyss, which is regarded as their proper position by those who have been
able to maintain themselves steadily at one height, are by no means sorry to
see their overthrow and are disinclined to offer any help. How many times
have I seen and experienced this! The worst part of it is not the accusations
of folly, but of hypocrisy. There is, however, for these natures one infallible
resource, when they have the strength to fall back upon it: they can force
themselves to recover their equilibrium and follow the golden mean. It is a
long task, which will continue necessarily throughout their lives, but that is
the advantage of it, as the end of it can never be determined.
The Duc de Noailles writes to us that his uncle has died within a few hours,
with every symptom of cholera. I do not know whether I am wrong, but for
me everything is shrouded in a veil of darkness, and I instinctively fear
some catastrophe. If only it does not fall upon M. de Talleyrand or upon my
children! For myself I trust in the will of God and prepare myself as well as
I can. But how many arrears remain to be paid, and how terror-stricken I
should be were it not for my full confidence in the Divine mercy!

Valençay, August 5, 1837.—M. de Montrond writes from Paris to M. de
Talleyrand that the following story was told of the young Queen Victoria at
the house of the Flahauts: The Duchess of Sutherland had kept the Queen
waiting; when she arrived the Queen went up to her and said: "My dear
Duchess, pray do not let this happen again, for neither you nor I ought to
keep any one waiting." Was not that very well said?

Valençay, August 8, 1837.—Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de
Lieven, which was begun in England and finished in France in the course of
her journey to Paris. She has seen Orloff in London, and thinks that through
him she has settled her business so well that she can venture to return to

Paris. She tells me some curious things of the young Queen. "Every one has
been taken in by her; she has secretly prepared herself for a long time for
her destined position. At the present moment she gives her whole heart to
Lord Melbourne. Her mother wished her to enter into obligations with the
Radicals, and also with Conroy personally. It seems that Conroy, who
dominates the mother, had behaved very rudely to her daughter, and even
threatened her with confinement three days before her accession if she did
not promise him a peerage and the post held by Sir Herbert Taylor. She
gave him a pension of three thousand pounds and forbade him the palace.
The mother only comes to see her daughter when she is sent for. The
Duchess of Kent complains bitterly, and is obviously overcome by
vexation; and Caradoc, who had miscalculated his possibilities in that
quarter, has shared in this disgrace and has left England. The young Queen
is full of affection and respect for her uncle, King Leopold, who did not like
Conroy; he used to take the girl's part against her mother. Melbourne is all-
powerful, and adores his young Sovereign. Her self-possession is
incredible. People are quite afraid of her; she keeps every one in order, and
I assure you that everything looks very different as compared with the old
King's time. The Queen wears every day the Order of the Garter as a medal
upon her shoulder, and the motto upon her arm. She has never grown tall,
and therefore wears a dress with a train even in the morning; she has a
distinguished appearance; her face is charming and her shoulders superb.
She issues her orders as a queen; her will must be obeyed at once and
without contradiction. All the courtiers seem overwhelmed."

Valençay, August 15, 1837.—I knew Madame de Lieven's taste for planting
herself at Paris, but I did not think it went so far as to induce her to
monopolise the Russian Embassy, and from every point of view this is a
false move; with whatever kindness she may meet in her present position,
which is regarded as neutral and without influence, an official position
would bring her into inextricable difficulties.

Valençay, August 17, 1837.—The following is an extract from a letter from
Madame de Lieven received yesterday: "For the moment Conservatism is
very fashionable in England. The new House of Commons will be much
better composed than the last; I hope and I believe that this will produce an

agreement with the moderate Tories; they are prepared for it. I can answer
for Sir Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington, who are ready to give their
help and support for the moment without any return. If Lord Melbourne
accepts he will lose the support of the Radical Party, and will find himself
obliged in a short time to bring Tories into the Cabinet; but that is the best
bargain open to him, and Lord Melbourne is more inclined to it than his
colleagues. We shall see if he is bold enough to take the step; when I left
him he seemed ready for it. The Queen will not be married or think of
marrying for a year or two at least. You may rely upon the accuracy of this
statement. The Duchess of Kent is a complete nonentity, and even put
somewhat on one side by her daughter. Conroy dare not appear before the
Queen. The Queen is astounding! Most astounding! With so much power at
eighteen, what will she be like at forty?
"The Clanricardes have quarrelled with the Ministry. She is happy, because
she can now be as Tory as she pleases.
"Diplomacy is in a poor way at London, since you and I are no longer there.
The members look shabby indeed; they seem mere nobodies, receive no
respect, have no position, know no news, ask everybody for news, and
come and whisper a Court affair a fortnight after it is forgotten. I blush for
my late profession.
"Esterhazy has gone to Brussels. This is producing an effect at London, as it
is the first act of recognition to the Belgian royalty; but from that source
Queen Victoria's policy is inspired."

Valençay, August 20, 1837.—We hear from Paris that the Duc d'Orléans has
a cold and is growing thin. There is some fear of his lungs, and it is said that
he takes too much exercise. It is thought the exertion of the camp at
Compiègne may be too much for him. His wife is literally adored by the
royal family, and by all who come near her.
I have a charming letter from the Duchess of Gloucester. These old
princesses seem to have been deeply saddened by the death of the late King.

Valençay, August 25, 1837.—The King and Queen of the Belgians will be at
London on the 26th of this month—that is, to-morrow. It is supposed that
the King will have full influence over his niece, but that he will not restore
relations between the Duchess of Kent and the Queen, or go out of his way
to spare the former, as he finds their disunion in accordance with his ideas.
The Princess de Lieven is very angry with her husband, who will not appear
at Havre, where she has arranged to meet him. She is doing her utmost at
St. Petersburg to gain some means of reviving her husband's spirits, of
which, to use her own expression, very little remain. She repeats that she
cannot leave Paris without risking her life. I think that she has no great
desire to meet the poor Prince again. She tells me that M. Guizot is at Paris,
that he comes to see her every day, and that he drives M. Molé away as
soon as he comes in. M. Molé is invited to the camp at Compiègne from the
1st to the 4th of September, and M. Guizot from the 5th to the 8th. The
whole of France will be invited in turn.

Valençay, August 29, 1837.—I had a troublesome day yesterday. Madame
de Sainte-Aldegonde came to us, bringing her daughters and M. Cuvillier
Fleury, tutor to the Duc d'Aumale and a contributor to the Journal des
Débats. I had to put myself out and show them everything, and was very
glad when they started back for Beauregard at nine o'clock in the evening.
M. Fleury has left his pupil for the moment to travel for six weeks, and is
contributing articles to the Journal des Débats about the castles that he
visits. There is nothing so disagreeable as this kind of thing, and he has
received a strong hint here that we do not care to see ourselves in print.
Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde says that the Duchesse d'Orléans is certainly
with child. She also says that Princesse Marie is to marry Duke Alexander
of Würtemberg next October, and will live in France.
M. Mignet, who has been here for two days, tells us no news. He confines
himself to long historical dissertations, which are sometimes interesting, but
generally somewhat pedantic.
Madame de Jaucourt writes that Baron Louis is dying of a stroke of
apoplexy. This has been largely brought on by fretting over the business of
his nephew de Rigny. [77]

Valençay, September 2, 1837.—I have a letter from the Duc de Noailles,
who gives me some small news. I never saw any one of importance stay at
home less than he does. At Paris he pays a daily round of calls, morning and
evening, which take up the whole of his time, and he never refuses an
invitation to dinner. In the summer he goes the round of the country houses
and the watering-places, and is continually making excursions to Paris, as
his residence is close at hand. Barren characters, when they are naturally
intelligent, feel a greater need of change than others; in any case, the
consequence is that he always knows the news. At Paris he keeps it to
himself, and asks more questions than he answers; but when he writes he
tells all that he knows, so that his letters are always pleasant.
I have also a letter from M. Thiers, from Cauterets. He is izard-hunting with
the Basques, of which sport he is very fond, although the Pyrenees seem to
him but poor scenery after the Lake of Como. He is less anxious about his
wife's health, and talks of coming here for the end of the month, but with all
his impedimenta, as he cannot leave the ladies whom he is escorting. I am
not altogether pleased, but how can I refuse?
It seems that the expedition to Constantine is actually to take place, and that
the Prince Royal will lead it. This campaign seems to me a very foolish one
for the Prince Royal.
I have just read the so-called memoirs of the Chevalier d'Eon, which are
tiresome, improbable, and absurd; the idea in particular that he could have
had a love-affair with the old Queen of England, the ugliest, the most
prudish and austere woman of her time, is too ridiculous an invention.

Valençay, September 6, 1837.—The newspapers now say that it is the Duc
de Nemours, and not the Prince Royal, who will command the expedition to
Constantine. This seems to me a better arrangement.
The Princesse de Lieven writes as follows: "There is talk of a double
marriage: the Princesse Marie with Duke Alexander of Würtemberg and
Princesse Clémentine with the eldest son of the reigning Duke of Saxe-
Coburg-Gotha. Here, however, a difficulty appears. The children of the
marriage should be Lutherans, which the Queen does not wish; and in the
case of the first marriage there is also the possible difficulty that the King of

Würtemberg might not give his consent. It is said that the negotiations,
though not broken off, are not far advanced. I have a letter from my brother
which shows me that Orloff has kept his word. He says that Paris is the only
place to suit me, and that no one protests against it. Now I have only my
husband to think of, and how can he be likely to offer objections as the
Court has raised none? This difficulty is bound to disappear, but not for a
month or six weeks, for my husband will require advices from the Emperor,
and the whole troublesome affair will have to go round Europe, from Paris
to Odessa and from Odessa to Ischl and from Ischl to Paris. Just think of
that!" So much from this great and aged spoilt child.

Valençay, September 8, 1837.—The news given us by Madame de Sainte-
Aldegonde was premature. Madame Adélaïde writes to M. de Talleyrand
that the Duchesse d'Orléans is not with child, that the King will not go to
Amboise this year, and that the marriage of the Princesse Marie with Duke
Alexander of Würtemberg is possible, but not absolutely settled, though
negotiations are going on.

Valençay, September 9, 1837.—I have come back from an excursion to
Châteauvieux and Saint-Aignan which occupied the whole of yesterday and
to-day. I was marvellously well and in high spirits with M. Royer-Collard,
but to-day I feel broken down and miserable. There is no sense in it; I do
not know what does me good or what makes me feel ill; I suffer from what I
think should do me good and recover from that which should lay me low. I
am a very strange little creature. The doctor tells me every day that it is the
result of my nervous, fantastic, and capricious disposition. What is certain is
that I have fits of cheerfulness, of gaiety, and of sadness; that I look after
myself, or my nerves look after me, very badly; and that I am exceedingly
tired of myself, and to some extent of other people.

Valençay, September 11, 1837.—What is to be said of the mandate of the
Archbishop of Paris, and of the article in the Journal des Débats which
follows it? The desecration of Sainte-Geneviève is obvious, and the scandal
of the pediment has been felt by all right-thinking people. [78] In the face of
such an enormity it was difficult for the plaintive voice of the chief pastor

not to utter a cry of pain, and the absence of any protest would have been
blameworthy, in my opinion. But his cry has been uttered with violence and
bitterness, and with none of the apostolic respect for the feelings of others
which it is always wise to keep in view. In M. de Quélen we shall always
have an excellent priest with the courage and devotion of his convictions,
but he will never learn tact, and will constantly injure his position by his
words and his actions. I am sorry for him, as I am interested in him, and
also for the cause of religion, which is even more wounded by these
unhappy events and Governmental scandals. The want of thought which
permitted this pediment, the obvious hesitation of the Ministry to know
whether it would be disclosed or not, the weakness which showed it to the
eyes of the public, and the tone of indifference with which newspapers
speak of it, are so many disavowals of the system of order and energy
which they have claimed as theirs. Next to the pillage of the archbishopric,
the destruction of the crosses, and the rejection of the fleur-de-lys, nothing
seems to me more hopelessly revolutionary than this hideous pediment. It
frightens right-thinking people far more than usurpation.

Valençay, September 12, 1837.—The Carlist party are very wrong to accuse
the Duc de Noailles of inclination to support the present Government; he is
very far from anything of the kind. I have seen that he was somewhat
tempted to that course for two or three months during the journey of the two
Princes in Germany and when the marriage of the Archduchess Theresa was
discussed. Since Alibaud's pistol-shot and the refusal of Austria he has
given up the idea, and I think he is more determined than ever to follow his
present line of conduct, although his impartiality in thought and language
will always prevent him from joining the hot-headed members of his party.
Madame de Lieven writes as follows: "I have a letter from my husband
proposing the right bank of the Rhine and asserting that he cannot possibly
cross it. We shall see. I hope and believe that he will change his mind. M.
Molé and M. Guizot meet at my house, and are beginning to talk. The
consent of the King of Würtemberg to his cousin's marriage has come to
hand. M. Guizot has returned from Compiègne delighted with the wit and
intelligence of the Duchesse d'Orléans. Madame de Flahaut is kept very
much aloof from the Princess, and is vexed in consequence. She had her
four days at the Château, like the other guests, and then returned to her

rooms in the town of Compiègne. Lady Jersey writes that she will come and
spend the winter at Paris to see the Prince de Talleyrand. My husband has
seen their Hanoverian Majesties at Carlsbad."

Valençay, September 18, 1837.—Yesterday I had a very kind letter from M.
Molé. He tells me that he has been obliged to postpone the diplomatic
affair. He wishes to create some peers, but is somewhat hampered by the
stupid social classification. He speaks bitterly of the great attention paid by
M. Guizot to Madame de Lieven, and readily accepted by the latter.
Alava, who has been here since yesterday, told me that the hunchbacked
daughter of the Duc de Frias has married the Prince of Anglona. Mlle.
Auguste de Rigny is certainly the only heiress of the Baron Louis, who
leaves seventy thousand francs income. She has already an income of
eighteen thousand of her own. The will is quite simple, and so definite that
it cannot be attacked. [79]

Valençay, September 19, 1837.—M. de Salvandy, whom M. de Talleyrand
had invited here, appeared yesterday at dinner-time. He is going back this
evening, having sandwiched this excursion between two meetings of the
Council. I have exhausted myself in graciousness of manner and in making
conversation, which is not an easy matter with a man who is undoubtedly
intellectual, but emphatically so, and constantly anxious to produce an
effect. In any case, he has been very attentive to me. He told me that the
Duke Alexander of Würtemberg had an income of only fifty thousand
francs, and that the King of Würtemberg showed much politeness and
readiness throughout the affair, though the alliance is a poor one for our
young Princess; we gain nothing more than a husband for her. It is not true
that she will stay in France; in the summer she will live in her husband's
castle, fifteen leagues from Coburg, and in the winter in a little palace at
Gotha. When they visit Paris they will be put up at the Elysée. They are
going to Germany immediately after the marriage, which will take place in
the first fortnight of October.
The French elections will take place on November 15, and the Chamber
will meet on December 5.

M. de Salvandy also talked much of the Duchess d'Orleans, whom he
believes, and I think rightly, to be an eminently clever person, and, as she
has to govern some day thirty-two million souls, is working daily to win
their hearts one by one.

Valençay, September 20, 1837.—M. de Salvandy left us yesterday after
dinner. During our morning talk he quoted an instance showing the growing
influence of the Duchesse d'Orléans over her husband. Before his marriage
he troubled so little about mass that last May, a few weeks before his
wedding, he went to the races at Chantilly on the Day of Pentecost, and
never even thought of attending mass. Recently at Saint-Quentin he went
there in fiocchi, telling the National Guard that they might follow him or
not as they pleased. The Guard went in a body. Saint-Quentin, however, like
all manufacturing towns, is by no means religious.
The Pope is deeply vexed about the business of Sainte-Geneviève, and is
going to offer a severe remonstrance through Mgr. Garibaldi. The King,
who has been much distressed by the scandal, is embarrassed in his
relations with Rome because he yielded to M. de Montalivet, who is
unfortunately surrounded by the wretched troop of hostile newspapers, to
which he pays homage and deference. M. Molé, who is opposed to the
pediment, has also yielded. M. de Salvandy is also fulminating, and I
imagine when he has uttered one sonorous phrase he will think his duty
done.

Valençay, September 22, 1837.—M. de Salvandy has written, upon his
arrival in Paris during the session of the Council, telling M. de Talleyrand
that he had found everybody much excited at the news from Spain; all are
expecting to hear of the arrival of Don Carlos at Madrid. It is possible that
this news will somewhat disturb arrangements for the dissolution and the
elections.

Valençay, September 28, 1837.—Madame Adélaïde writes that the marriage
of her niece to Duke Alexander of Würtemberg will take place at Trianon
on October 12. Madame de Castellane tells me that the Lieven-Guizot

flirtation is unparalleled. He is making her read Dante and Tasso, and never
leaves her house. Since he has been in the country he writes letters to her of
ten pages. During his absence the Princess went to his house, gained
admission to his rooms, and examined everything carefully. She has written
curious but sensible articles on the subject. An article has appeared
concerning the whole affair in Le Temps. This has made her furious, and she
has had a very lively interview with M. Molé, because Le Temps is said to
be considerably under Ministerial influence; hence relations between the
Prime Minister and herself are somewhat strained. It is all very ridiculous,
and I am glad to be away from Paris and all this gossip.
In any case, a retired life is delightful. In society one squanders too much
energy; instead of laying up a proper store of provisions for the great
journey, we scatter them broadcast, and find ourselves lacking when we
have to start. Terrible is our want and disgraceful our indigence! I am
sometimes really terrified at my wretched condition.
Yesterday I had a sad piece of news—the death of the young Princess of
Arsoli, daughter of the late Madame de Carignan. She was carried off by
cholera in the same week as her mother-in-law, Princess Massimo. I had
seen her born.

Valençay, September 29, 1837.—The Baron de Montmorency, who arrived
here yesterday, thinks that there is some hitch in the Würtemberg marriage.
The King of Würtemberg seems to have suddenly refused his consent,
except on condition that all the children should be Protestants, while our
Queen wishes them all to be Catholics. If the Duke Alexander yields to the
Queen there will be a marriage the more without the head of the family,
which never looks well. If France gives way to the King of Würtemberg the
Princess will have to go to be married at the frontier, as was Mlle. de
Broglie, for the French Catholic clergy will only allow mixed marriages on
condition that all the children are brought up as Catholics. It is really
inconceivable that so important a question was not decided before the
announcement of the marriage. It will lead to any number of vexatious
ideas, and show with what difficulty business can be conducted at our
Court.

It is said that Von Hügel, the Austrian Chargé d'Affaires at Paris, is going
mad.

Valençay, October 1, 1837.—Yesterday our theatricals took place, for which
we had been rehearsing for a fortnight; I played my part in spite of a
headache. People kindly said that I entirely concealed my suffering on the
stage, but as soon as it was over I was obliged to go to bed at once. The
performance was quite successful, and Pauline played two totally different
parts so admirably that I begin to wonder whether I ought to allow her to
continue this amusement. Our scene from the Femmes savantes went very
well, and M. de la Besnardière, who is an old theatre-goer, asserts that he
never saw it so well played. I really think that it went with a certainty, a
unity, and a correctness that were quite remarkable. M. de Talleyrand was
delighted. There was supper and dancing after the performance, but I was
not there.

Valençay, October 2, 1837.—All the neighbours about us went away
yesterday after mass, but in the course of the day a certain Mr. Hamilton
arrived, who is an American, and the son of Colonel Hamilton, who was
well known during the War of Independence in the United States; M. de
Talleyrand often speaks of him, and was very intimate with him in America.
The son did not wish to leave the Old World, where he has been making a
tour, without seeing his father's friend. He brought his own son with him, a
young man of twenty-one. Neither of them speak French, so I exhausted
myself in making English conversation. They are starting again this
morning. In his own country Mr. Hamilton belongs to the Opposition party.
He is a sensible man, but with that tinge of Americanism which is always
somewhat disagreeable in the best of them.

Valençay, October 7, 1837.—I hear from Paris that the difficulties with
Würtemberg have been smoothed over. The marriage is to take place on the
14th, and everything is going on to the general satisfaction. Our Princess
has been invited to Stuttgart. The Duc d'Orléans is said to be the only
member of the family dissatisfied with this union, and we are told that he
treated his future brother-in-law more than coldly at Compiègne.

Valençay, October 9, 1837.—The Duc Decazes arrived here unexpectedly at
dinner-time yesterday. He was on his way from Livorno, full of the
Bordeaux affair, which he seems inclined to visit upon the Prefect, M. de
Pressac. After dinner he continued his journey to Paris, where he is
summoned by the marriage of the Princesse Marie. He had left M. Thiers
and all his family at Tours. We are expecting them to-day.

Valençay, October 10, 1837.—M. and Madame Thiers, Madame Dosne and
her young daughter arrived yesterday an hour before dinner-time. They
came by Montrichard, and so they were all shaken and weary. Madame
Thiers does not show any sign of exhaustion in her face; she is perhaps a
little thin, but nothing else; I think it is largely a matter of nerves, and that if
she were in good spirits her indisposition would quickly disappear. In any
case, for a person of her kind, I think her quite anxious to please, but, like
her mother, she has a vulgar intonation and trivial expressions to which I
cannot get accustomed. It was a dull and heavy evening, in spite of the
enthusiasm of M. Thiers for Italy. He seems to be greatly struck by the
beauty of Valençay, and I think they are all very glad to be here. Fortunately
the weather is fine; I have never prayed for sunshine so earnestly.

Valençay, October 11, 1837.—Madame Thiers was very tired yesterday; she
went upstairs after lunch and did not reappear until dinner-time. She would
not go for a drive, and her mother kept her company. We took the husband
out with us, and he was in excellent spirits, with no bitterness or hostility.
He wishes to go from here to Lille without crossing Paris, where he only
wishes to arrive just in time for the Chambers; he was also very sarcastic
about the repeated proposals that have been made to him for the greatest
embassies.

Valençay, October 12, 1837.—M. de Talleyrand yesterday took M. Thiers to
see M. Royer-Collard. They returned both well pleased with their walk,
whence I infer that they left their host equally pleased. I have no great
trouble with the ladies. The young wife appears for meals, lolls in a
drawing-room armchair for half an hour after lunch and for an hour after
dinner, then goes up to her room; she will not drive, and only wishes to be

left alone. Her mother is with her a great deal, and her husband most
attentive. The young wife governs them all, but like a spoilt and capricious
child, and I think that the poor husband finds the path of marriage a
somewhat thorny one.

Valençay, October 13, 1837.—The Duchesse de Saint-Leu is dead. What
will become of her son? Will he be left upon our frontier?
Madame Murat continues to remain at Paris. General Macdonald, [80] who
was thought to be her husband, and who was greatly devoted to her in any
case, has died at Florence. To the universal surprise, this event has not so
far saddened her as to prevent her from going to the theatre, nor does she
show any of the grief that might have been expected.
Here people talk of nothing but the approaching elections; they seem to be
still very uncertain and to defy all calculations. I have always noticed this to
be the case at every dissolution of the Chamber. The instructions of the
Ministry are very capricious; on the whole the Doctrinaires and progressive
parties are to be proscribed, but with so many exceptions here and there that
unusual points of contact are created. M. Thiers is quite calm, in excellent
political spirits; he talks a great deal of his forty years and of the frost of
age; however, I would not trust to that, and if he were provoked he would
be quite capable of entering the fray most vigorously. He has quite
abandoned his ideas of Spanish intervention, not as regards the past, but for
the present moment. I have never seen him so wise and self-controlled—a
condition only to be attained by those whose inclinations are definite, and
who have enough self-satisfaction not to be ambitious for power. His wife
unbends a little; she danced yesterday evening in excellent spirits.

Valençay, October 15, 1837.—The whole of the Thiers family went away
yesterday. Although the mother has been anxious to please, the young wife
amiable in her manner, and her husband witty, animated, and tractable, as
usual, I am not sorry to see them go.

Valençay, October 22, 1837.—We are to have a second theatrical
performance. I rehearsed my part yesterday with M. de Valençay while the

rest of the company were out driving.
I have a very carefully written letter from Madame Dosne, from which the
following is an interesting passage: "Since our arrival the house has been
stormed by friends, inquirers, and interested people, who wish to learn the
attitude of M. Thiers. He has seen M. Molé and M. de Montalivet, who are
struggling for his friendship, and has been effusively received by the royal
family. You know better than any one, madame, to whom he owes that. In
short, his move to Paris has been quite politic and successful. He is ready to
defend the Ministry as long as it lasts and to help it as long as he can, if they
will support his view with regard to the elections. To-morrow we shall start
for Lille, where we shall stay as long as my daughter wishes."

Valençay, October 26, 1837.—Madame de Lieven writes to say that her
husband has sent his son Alexander to her to carry her off dead or alive, but
she has refused to stir, and that the son has gone back again provided with
all possible certificates from the doctors of the Embassy stating the
impossibility of moving her. She is loud in the praises of Comte Pahlen and
of my cousin Paul Medem. It seems that the Autocrat told M. de Lieven that
he would crush the Princess if she persisted in remaining in France. I think
she has some private means which no one can touch, and which help her to
hold out. Before long it will become a regular drama.
I have a long letter from the Duc d'Orléans, in which he tells me that his
sister, the Duchess of Würtemberg, did not go immediately to Stuttgart on
leaving Paris, but went first to Coburg, and will not go to Würtemberg till
later. The Duc d'Orléans gives me excellent accounts of his wife, and seems
to regard her as a perfect friend, which is the best certificate a woman can
have from her husband, and a guarantee of the most desirable future for her.

Valençay, November 2, 1837.—I shall start presently to dine and sleep at
Beauregard. To-morrow I shall pass through Tours, and reach my house at
Rochecotte in time for dinner.
I have a kind letter from M. Guizot, who tells me that the new Chamber will
be like the last, and that if there is a difference it will be to the advantage of
his own views.

M. Thiers writes from Lille saying that the general electioneering cry is
"Down with the Doctrinaires!" and that he is asked by five different
departments to become a candidate, but that he will remain faithful to Aix.
Finally, M. Royer-Collard writes from Paris saying that M. Molé has been
tricked in the elections; that it does not, however, follow that the elections
will go in favour of the Doctrinaires, but that they will not lack Ministerial
support. Of these three versions which is the most credible? I am inclined to
accept the last.

Rochecotte, November 4, 1837.—Since yesterday I have been in my own
home. As I passed through Tours in the morning I found the poor Prefect
grappling with the electoral fever.
The confusion of the instructions is incredible, continually modified or
contradicted as they are by intrigues at Paris, alternating between the
influence of Guizot or Thiers; consequently I think the result will be very
far removed from that which was proposed at the dissolution of the
Chamber. Fortunately the country is calm, for the dissolution was decided
upon, not for patriotic reasons, but simply for personal interest, and
miscalculation upon that ground is a matter of indifference. At the same
time it is foolish uselessly to stir up an infinity of local passions which,
though they do not rise to the danger and violence of political strife, none
the less injure public spirit by dividing the country more and more into
parties.

Rochecotte, November 5, 1837.—The comedies which we acted at Valençay
brought some life into the great castle, of which there has been a prodigious
lack during June, July, and August. I admit, to my shame, that for the first
time in my life since I rested from the fatigues of Fontainebleau and
Versailles I have been very bored. The illness which we have all suffered
one after another brought anxiety in place of boredom, and I am glad of
some small diversion to bring me out of the groove.

Rochecotte, November 11, 1837.—A letter from Madame Adélaïde reached
me yesterday. She seems fairly pleased with the elections, and would be

more so were it not for the infamous alliance between the Legitimists and
Republicans, which has brought success to the latter party in several places.
I use her own expressions. She also says that Princesse Marie is delighted
with her husband and her journey, with Germany and with the reception
which has so far been given.

Rochecotte, November 24, 1837.—I am sorry for the Grand Duchess
Stephanie on account of the wrongdoing or misfortune of her daughter, the
Princess Wasa. [81] I never liked her, and was struck by her bad appearance
when I saw her at Paris in 1827 with her mother; moreover, her husband,
whom I also know, is a very ordinary person, and by no means the man to
guide a young wife.
The Duchess of Massa speaks with delight in her letters of the hospitality
and the distinction at the Court of Coburg, and of the happiness of the
Princesse Marie. I also hear that the Duc d'Orléans constantly talks of his
domestic happiness, in which he is entirely absorbed. He is to give an
entertainment upon the return of his brother, the Duc de Nemours, the victor
of Constantine.
I am more and more delighted with the life of Bossuet by Cardinal Bausset.
How fortunate it is that I put off reading this book at a time when the taste
for reading had passed away, and is now revived by this excellent work! I
have ordered a fine engraving of Bossuet which I wish to possess; it is
absurd that he should not have his place here with my other friends of the
great century, Madame de Sévigné, Madame de Maintenon, Cardinal de
Retz, and Arnauld d'Andilly. Although I admire every personage of that
great age, I have my preferences. I want a portrait of the Palatine to
complete my collection.

Rochecotte, November 30, 1837.—My sister, the Duchesse de Sagan, writes
to say that she will come here shortly; I do not know whether she will carry
out her plan this time—not that I am altogether regretful if she should fail,
for I am never entirely at my ease with her. I was accustomed to be afraid of
her in my youth, and am still somewhat overawed; but as the matter has
been announced and arranged, it is better that she should come.

Rochecotte, December 2, 1837.—Yesterday in the Journal des Débats I
read the great memorandum of the Prussian Government against the
Archbishop of Cologne. [82] We must suspend our judgment until we hear his
defence; but the fact remains that so strong a measure as to arrest an
archbishop and imprison him does not look well in the case of a Protestant
Sovereign when dealing with a Catholic prelate in a Catholic country. It has
too strong an appearance of persecution, even if it be justified at bottom. I
am very curious to know the end of this affair; it seems to me of serious
import.
M. de Montrond tells M. de Talleyrand that the whole family of Thiers
profess such a redoubled affection for us since their stay at Valençay that
we shall be regarded as responsible for the acts and deeds of M. Thiers
during the coming session. I have urged this upon M. de Talleyrand as an
argument for staying here as long as possible, but with what success I do
not know.
M. Guizot is to be found at Madame de Lieven's house from morning to
evening, to the general amusement.
Madame Adélaïde's letters begin to urge more strongly our return to Paris,
which is exactly the reason why I should prefer to stay here.

Rochecotte, December 4, 1837.—M. de Sainte-Aulaire informs me that the
Grand Duchess Stephanie has solved her daughter Wasa's domestic
difficulties. I fear she has only postponed the evil day.

Rochecotte, December 6, 1837.—Yesterday I carried out an enterprise
which I had long been anxious to perform. I went with my son Valençay to
see the Comte d'Héliaud and Madame de Champchevrier. We started in fine
frosty weather, lunched with M. d'Héliaud, and spent an hour at
Champchevrier on our return with the nicest people in the world, in a fine
old castle, with moats and avenues, and a well-wooded country of
preserves; old tapestry, stag-horns, and hunting-horns hung from the walls
are the chief ornaments in this noble but not very elegant mansion. It is
inhabited by a simple, upright, and respected family, who live comfortably
but not luxuriously, hunting and farming throughout the year. At certain

times forty or fifty of the surrounding families meet there for amusement.
The whole establishment is well worthy of a description by Walter Scott,
especially an old grandmother of eighty-two, upright, alert, imposing, and
polite, in a surprisingly antique dress. We were very kindly received. By the
time we reached home I was frozen, but very glad that I had paid my calls
and fulfilled my neighbourly duties.
The Duc de Noailles writes to say that he met M. Thiers one morning at
Madame de Lieven's house, where he spoke like a little saint and a great
philosopher.

Rochecotte, December 10, 1837.—My sister and my son Alexandre at last
arrived here yesterday, after a long and tiring journey. My sister has grown
very stout, and looks much older; none the less she is astonishingly well
preserved for the age of fifty-seven. She talks a great deal and very loudly.
The Vienna strain in her is predominant.

Rochecotte, December 11, 1837.—I took my sister for a long drive
yesterday. She thinks this place very pretty, and, as other persons have
already told me, assures me that nothing recalls to her so much la bella
Italia. We had hardly returned from our long drive than I began it over
again for M. de Salvandy, who dropped in unexpectedly at dinner, and after
a short stay continued his journey to Nogent-le-Rotrou, where he is going to
an electoral banquet. He told us that the Duc de Nemours had reached
Havre with a broken arm, in consequence of an accident upon board of a
wretched steamship. He travelled by Gibraltar, in order to avoid a great ball
that the town of Marseilles had prepared for him, and over which great
expense had been incurred. The King is very displeased by this prank.

Rochecotte, December 19, 1837.—Last spring when I consulted Lisfranc
and Cruveilhier they both told me that I was threatened by a tendency to
feverishness. Since that time my life has been arranged to avoid the danger,
and with success; but since the arrival of my sister I have felt a great and
steadily increasing nervous agitation, so much so that yesterday

inflammation was pronounced, with violent fever. I am much distressed,
and think I shall have to spend some days in bed or upon my sofa.

Rochecotte, December 20, 1837.—The doctor says that I am better to-day. I
never remember having felt so ill as the day before yesterday. I am still
keeping my room, and feel very poorly, but the doctor repeats that there is
no danger, and that with a few days' more care I shall be quite well.

Rochecotte, December 25, 1837.—The pain in my right side is growing
less, and I am not so weak. When I am stronger I shall speak of my thoughts
during these days of danger through which I have passed. The mental life
becomes the clearer when the outward eye is veiled and obscured. [83]

Rochecotte, December 26, 1837.—I am better, and very grateful to
Providence which has delivered me from so grievous a state; but I shall not
recover from the shock for a long time. I was deeply touched to learn that
yesterday during the service I was recommended to the prayers of the
congregation. All my neighbours and the whole countryside have been most
kind; my servants have watched and worked with infinite zeal, and the two
doctors, MM. Cogny and Orie, have been very attentive.

Rochecotte, December 28, 1837.—The weather is magnificent, and at
midday I shall be wheeled on to the terrace for a moment.
I have no news from Paris, and am greatly ignorant of the affairs of this
world. It seemed to me during the two days that I was ill that I saw
something of the things of the next world, and that it was not so difficult as
might be thought to rise towards one's Creator; that there was even a certain
sweetness in the idea that one was to rest at length from all the troubles of
life. Providence can soften all the trials which He sends to us, by giving us
the strength to bear them, and one can never feel too thankful for all the
Divine favours.

Rochecotte, December 31, 1837.—This last day of a year, which upon the
whole has not been entirely agreeable, induces me to throw a retrospective
glance upon my life—an effort which produces a not very pleasant result.
However, it would be wrong to complain; if misfortunes are not lacking for
me, there are also blessings which it would be ungrateful not to recognise;
and one may feel despondent and serious and yet have no right to feel or to
call oneself unhappy. May God preserve for myself and for those whom I
love, honour, health, and that peace of mind which keeps the soul from care,
and my thanks will be heartfelt.

CHAPTER III

1838

Rochecotte, January 1, 1838.—In spite of my weakness I remained until
midnight in the drawing-room, to embrace M. de Talleyrand, my children,
and my sister as the new year came in. I am to go out in the carriage to-day,
to come down to dinner, and, in short, to return to life by degrees.

Rochecotte, January 2, 1838.—The whole countryside passed this way
yesterday; people were still here in the evening. I am no worse this
morning, but the contrary, and if this marvellous weather will last a few
days longer I hope that I shall soon be quite myself again. M. de Talleyrand,
unfortunately, already speaks of returning to Paris.

Rochecotte, January 5, 1838.—I have no good opinion of the year upon
which we have entered, from a political point of view. My mind is
despondent, my soul sad, my nerves are weak, my heart is full, and, to use
the language of the chambermaid, I wouldn't give twopence for anything.
We have been plunged in fog for the last few days, but none the less I have
been to pay my farewell calls in the immediate neighbourhood.

Rochecotte, January 6, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand and Pauline have just
started for Paris. No one is left in the house except my sister, my son
Alexandre, and myself. I must make up my accounts and prepare for
departure, as we are all three going the day after to-morrow.
Notwithstanding the sad recollections of the illness which darkened my last
weeks here, I shall leave this pleasant little spot with regret.

Paris, January 11, 1838.—I arrived here yesterday at ten o'clock in the
evening after a journey which nine degrees of frost and constant snow made
extremely unpleasant. However, we had no accident, and the change of air,
sudden as it has been, has rather strengthened me and given me a little
appetite.
Yesterday I dined at Versailles with Madame de Balbi, whom I thought had
grown very old. My sister at the same time was eating fowl with Madame
de Trogoff, whom she knew very well long ago.
We found M. de Talleyrand in good health, but anxious about our journey.
He told me that the Ministry was absorbed in work upon the Address, so
that none of the members are visible for the moment.

Paris, January 12, 1838.—Yesterday I was very busy with my sister's
dresses, my own, and those of Pauline. We have all three arrived in rags.
Then I went to see Madame de Laval, who is greatly changed. In the
evening I took my sister to hear The Puritans, in the same box at the
Théâtre Italien as I had last year. Rubini has certainly lost something of his
voice, and Madame Grisi has begun to shriek.
I believe there is great agitation in the political world, but I ask no
questions, do not even read a newspaper, and preserve my beloved state of
ignorance, partly through idleness and partly as a precaution.

Paris, January 13, 1838.—My sister wished to go for once to the Chamber
of Deputies, which is a new sight for her. The Russian Ambassador gave us
his tickets, and we spent our morning yesterday at the Palais Bourbon. M.
Molé surpassed my expectations. He delighted my sister and charmed
myself. There could be nothing more dignified, nothing clearer, better
thought or better expressed than his speech. His success was quite
complete. I saw Madame de Lieven at the Chamber; my sister and she will
not look at one another; they detest one another, though they do not know
one another. This is inconvenient for me. [84] M. Guizot came up into our
seat, and I thought him greatly changed.

I am quite overcome by so different a mode of life from that of the last six
months.

Paris, January 14, 1838.—Yesterday I had a very long and very kind visit
from the Prince Royal, who was quite calm and in a placid frame of mind.
I then called upon the Princesse de Lieven, who gave me full details of her
domestic situation, which excluded conversation upon any other topic and
reduced me to the position of audience. She thinks she will certainly be able
to stay here ad vitam æternam without molestation. I hope she may. In the
evening I went to the Tuileries, to pay my respects to the Queen.

Paris, January 15, 1838.—Great fires are becoming quite fashionable. The
burning of the London Stock Exchange will form a counterpart to the
destruction of the Winter Palace at St. Petersburg, with the difference that a
hundred persons perished in Russia, while no loss of life took place in
England. Paul Medem told me that the Winter Palace was three times as
large as the Louvre, and that six thousand persons lived there; that the
Imperial pharmacy was situated in the middle of the castle, and that an
explosion resulting from a chemical experiment had caused the
conflagration.
I did not go out yesterday. M. de Sainte-Aulaire came to lunch with my
sister and myself, after which I had a call from M. Royer-Collard, who is
much better this year. I saw MM. Thiers and Guizot with M. de Talleyrand.
We had a long and tiresome family dinner, after which my sister and myself
found nothing better to do than to go to bed at half-past nine. I have not
entirely recovered my strength. A conversation with Dr. Cruveilhier, only
too similar to that which I had at Tours with Dr. Bretonneau, has done much
to bring back my despondency and listlessness.

Paris, January 16, 1838.—Yesterday when I was writing I had heard
nothing of the conflagration which destroyed the Théâtre Italien the
preceding night. The under-manager and four firemen lost their lives. It is a
great catastrophe, and disastrous for poor people like myself whose only
pleasure was the Italian Opera. I feel it quite deeply.

Lady Clanricarde came to lunch with me yesterday, and it was a great
pleasure to see her again. She is very nice, and we talked over "dear, ever
dear England," an inexhaustible subject for me.
In the evening I took Pauline to a ball given by the Duc d'Orléans; it was
charming and delightfully arranged. We went away after supper at two
o'clock in the morning, which was late for me. However, apart from a bad
headache I need not complain of the way in which I got through my task.
Unfortunately there are many others of the kind, and the prospect of their
multiplicity frightens me. I saw nothing noticeable at the ball except the
delicate appearance of the Duchesse d'Orléans, which unfortunately is not
to be explained by any prospect of a child. I think our excellent Queen
looks older, and the Duc de Nemours is terribly thin. He has grown a beard
in the modern style, but so fair that it is frightful to behold.

Paris, January 17, 1838.—Yesterday I spent the morning with my sister in
doing what I detest more than anything else—making a full round of
indispensable calls. In the evening I took her to the Tuileries. The
arrangements were most noble and magnificent. She was a little astonished
at the forms of presentation here, and I was more than usually struck by
them.

Paris, January 23, 1838.—I have caught a cold as a result of sitting in a
draught which blew straight upon my back at a concert yesterday at the
residence of the Duc d'Orléans; this was the only thing of which to
complain at an evening's entertainment where there was no crowd and
where the music was delightful, well chosen, and not too long.
M. de Talleyrand is very well, except for his legs; their weakness does not
matter so much, but they are becoming painful, especially the toes of one
foot, which are not always their natural colour. This is an ominous sign. I
am very anxious, and so is he; in short, I am greatly depressed, and
everything weighs heavily upon my mind.

Paris, January 28, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand is not ill, but his mania for
dining out has not agreed with him. Yesterday at Lord Granville's, when

giving his arm to the Princesse de Lieven, he trod upon the folds of her
dress and nearly fell; he did not actually fall, but his knee gave way, his
weak foot turned, and he twisted his big toe. I was deeply anxious when I
saw him come back in this state. What a sad year it is! The fact is that since
last April nothing has gone right, and if I did not regard all this as a trial and
preparation for a better world, I should be quite disgusted with this one.

Paris, January 30, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand's foot gives him pain, and the
worst of it is the difficulty of finding out whether the pain is the result of the
sprain or the general weakness of the foot; otherwise he is calm, with
people always about him, and plays his game of whist every evening.
I was with the Queen this evening, who had received the sad news that
morning of the burning of the palace in Gotha in which her daughter,
Princesse Marie, was living. Princesse Marie nearly lost her life, and has
lost much valuable property, albums, portraits, books, her diaries, in fact
everything. Her diamonds are melted out of the settings, which are mere
lumps of metal; the large stones alone resisted the heat, and these must be
repolished. And then many precious objects which money cannot replace
have gone. This first cloud which overshadows her young happiness is
especially cruel, because it raises distrust and destroys the sense of future
security. It is a real grief to the Queen, the more so as the shock might have
done the Princess some harm, as she is with child.

Paris, February 1, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand is anxious about the state of
his leg and the consequent change necessitated in his mode of life. I wish
his foot would get strong enough to allow him to get into a carriage, but he
cannot yet put enough weight upon it to mount. Want of fresh air and
exercise, if this continues, may have serious consequences. Meanwhile he is
not alone for a single moment from ten o'clock in the morning till after
midnight.
Lady Clanricarde came to lunch with me yesterday. In a few days she is
returning to her dear England, of which I think daily with deep regret. I
knew all that I was losing when I left it, and I have at any rate counted the
cost.

Paris, February 2, 1838.—The state of M. de Talleyrand's leg is pretty
much the same, though it was slightly less swollen yesterday. He is rather
despondent, and, I think, too far-sighted not to realise all the possible ill-
results. I cannot say how despondent I feel and what a weight is upon my
mind.

Paris, February 3, 1838.—Yesterday was M. de Talleyrand's birthday, and
he is now eighty-four. Fortunately his leg has seemed much better during
the last day or two. This fact was the best birthday present he could have, or
I either.

Paris, February 5, 1838.—My sister collected some Austrians and Italians
yesterday evening at her house, and engaged a band of Neapolitan
musicians who are here. She got them to sing some of their national airs,
which are very pretty. M. de Talleyrand was carried up to my sister's rooms,
and played his game there. His leg improves in appearance, but the sprained
foot is weak and painful. I do not know if he will ever be able to walk
again. If he could only get into a carriage! His inability to get fresh air
makes me anxious.
He is sad and worried. Strange to say, he has expressed a wish to make the
acquaintance of the Abbé Dupanloup, and has asked me to invite him to
dinner on my birthday. I did so at once. The Abbé at first accepted and then
refused. I suspect the Archbishop's hand in this. I shall see him to-morrow
and get an explanation. When M. de Talleyrand heard that the Abbé had
refused he said: "He has less intelligence than I thought, for he ought to be
anxious to come here for my sake and his own." These words have
impressed me and increased my vexation with the Abbé's refusal.

Paris, February 7, 1838.—Yesterday, in spite of the keen cold, I went to the
Archbishop, who was very gracious. He gave me, for St. Dorothea's Day,
my birthday, which was yesterday, a splendid copy of the Imitation of Jesus
Christ, and another for M. de Talleyrand; for my sister a portrait of Leo
XII., the Pope who had received his renunciation, and for Pauline a
handsome religious work. He was greatly surprised and vexed that the Abbé

Dupanloup had refused to dine with us; in short, I came away quite
satisfied.
I was still more pleased at the way in which M. de Talleyrand accepted the
Archbishop's present and listened to my account of our conversation. He
would like the Archbishop to use his authority to induce the Abbé
Dupanloup to come here. I cannot help ascribing his excellent frame of
mind to my own feelings in my last illness, and to the words which I was
then able to speak to him. I bless God for the sign that He has been pleased
to send me by His hidden and always admirable means of working and if to
complete this great task I should have to make a yet greater sacrifice I shall
readily do so.

Paris, February 9, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand went out yesterday for the first
time for a drive, which did him good, or, more correctly, pleased him. The
effects of his sprain are rapidly passing away, but the same is not true of the
general condition of his foot, which is unsatisfactory. He was carried into
the carriage and helped out again, which was not so difficult as I thought,
but this obvious infirmity is painful to look at—more painful than I can say.
Rumours are believed that the Duchesse d'Orléans is with child; however, I
think we shall have to wait a little before the story can be confirmed.

Paris, February 10, 1838.—It is said that the quarrel between the Flahauts
and General Baudrand will be settled, but I do not think permanently. [85]
Madame de Flahaut comes to see M. de Talleyrand in the evenings, and her
husband every morning; they are kind and gracious, as threatened people
are.
M. Royer-Collard, whom I saw yesterday for a moment, was delighted to
find that his speeches the other day had shattered the position which people
wished the Deputies to resume. There was some friction between us on this
occasion. There is too strong a strain of bitterness in his nature, which
sometimes makes him quite mischievous, though he does not know it.

Paris, February 11, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand was able to visit Madame
Adélaïde yesterday, the chief event of his day, and therefore of mine. The

event of to-day is the snow, which is falling heavily and incessantly, and
brings us back to the middle of the winter.
The Abbé Dupanloup came to see me yesterday, and paid a long call. I was
quite satisfied with the result, and he will dine with us in a week.
We also had some people to dinner; the whole of the Albuféra family, the
Thiers, the Flahauts; and some people come in every evening.

Paris, February 15, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand is very busy with a small
laudatory speech upon M. Reinhard which he proposes to deliver at the
Academy of Moral and Political Science at the beginning of next month. He
is taking trouble with it, and spent several hours over it yesterday.
The Baudrand and Flahaut business is not yet concluded. Claims,
hesitations, and equivocations have been forthcoming from either side, with
the result that the two rivals have become ridiculously bitter, and, what is
worse, the Prince Royal has been involved.

Paris, February 23, 1838.—We are still in the midst of cold and snow.
The Duc de Nemours has had a sore throat, which threatened to become
quinsy, but his indisposition has not postponed any of the Court festivities,
and the day before yesterday he was present at the Queen's ball.
M. de Talleyrand has a cold and his legs are weak. These are his two weak
points. The former is only a transitory trouble; the other, though its remote
consequences may be serious, is not threatening at present. Such is the true
state of affairs.

Paris, February 25, 1838.—I was informed early this morning that M. de
Talleyrand was suffering from a kind of suffocation. This was purely due to
outward circumstances, for he had slipped down in his bed and was
practically buried by his vast bedclothes, with the result that a kind of
nightmare was the consequence. I have just left him sleeping peaceably in
an armchair. What I do not like is the fact that for the last two days he has
been more or less feverish, and that he will eat nothing or very little for fear

of increasing the fever. He is very weak. The absence of Dr. Cruveilhier,
who is at Limoges, is also a trouble, and though I feel no immediate
anxiety, I am far from confident concerning the result of this invalid
condition, which seems to point to a general break-up.

Paris, March 3, 1838.—In two hours M. de Talleyrand is going to the
Academy in cold and most unpleasant rain; I also fear the effect of the
excitement upon him. There will be a large audience, but no women, as this
Academy will not admit them. I hope that to-day will go off well, but I wish
it were to-morrow.

Paris, March 4, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand is very agitated and very weak
this morning. He made a great effort, and whatever his success, I fear he
will have to pay dearly for it. His success was beyond my expectation; the
accounts of some fifty people who besieged my room after the session leave
me no doubt upon that point. He had recovered his vocal powers, read
excellently well, walked about, seemed younger and entirely himself, and
two hours afterwards he was overthrown and incapable of making an effort.
I do not know what the newspapers will have to say of the speech, but if
anything can disarm them I think it should be the fact that a man at such an
age and with so full a past should display such energy in delivering in
public farewells so noble and so full of justice and good teaching. [86]

Paris, March 5, 1838.—The day has gone off better than I expected for M.
de Talleyrand. The Journal Général de France, which is a Doctrinaire
organ, contained the best, cleverest, and pleasantest article upon M. de
Talleyrand's speech. Some ascribed it to M. Doudan, others to M.
Villemain. The article in the Débats was kind, but dull; that of the Journal
de Paris good; of the Charte stupid and badly written; the Gazette de
France fairly good; the Siècle and the Presse insignificant; the National of
no account. Against my custom, which has been not to open a single
newspaper since my return from the country, I read them all yesterday, and
shall do the same to-day; then I shall resume my state of ignorance.

Paris, March 6, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand had a fainting fit yesterday before
dinner. I think it was due to the excessively rigorous methods of his dieting
and to the catarrh of his chest and stomach, which takes away his appetite.
The blister which will be placed upon him will relieve him, I hope.
Yesterday's newspapers were not equally satisfactory concerning his
speech, but he was not disturbed on that account, for the intelligent and
right-minded members of his audience have been really pleased. The house
is constantly full of people coming to congratulate him. M. Royer-Collard
said to me yesterday: "M. de Talleyrand has solemnly disavowed the
unpleasant incidents of his life and publicly glorified the good and really
useful parts of it."

Paris, March 7, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand had no further attacks of faintness
yesterday, but he does not look well, and I think him much changed. I hear
that his brother, the Duc de Talleyrand, my father-in-law, is also in a very
poor state of health; the Vicomtesse de Laval is feverish with a bad cold and
she cannot sleep. This is all very sad, and these omens of death depress me
greatly.

Paris, March 8, 1838.—M. de Talleyrand had a better day yesterday. We
take great care of him: when I came back from a dinner given to my sister
by the Stackelbergs, and from the Queen, to whom I went afterwards, I
found him surrounded by fair ladies and in pretty good spirits.
In the morning I took Pauline to ask offerings from the Archbishop. My
sister wished to accompany us, so that I was unable to speak with M. de
Quélen.
The Flahaut party have lost all touch with the Pavillon Marsan, except the
good graces of the Prince Royal, which they seem to be monopolising. At
the Pavillon de Flore there is a general satisfaction at their departure,
notwithstanding many fine phrases. The Flahauts do not understand the
truth, and throw the blame upon a Doctrinaire intrigue, to which the Duc de
Coigny is said to have lent his help. They are soon starting for England,
where I think they will make a pretty long stay.

Paris, March 10, 1838.—The Abbé Dupanloup came to see me yesterday.
He then asked to see M. de Talleyrand, to thank him for the copy of his
speech which he had sent him. Pauline took him there. He stayed alone for
twenty minutes with M. de Talleyrand, who did not open the subject
directly, but let some kind words fall, and when the Abbé came back to my
room he seemed to feel some hope. In any case, he has shown great
discretion and perfect tact, and I think he is entirely right. He was the first
to suggest that he should take his leave, and was told that he would gladly
be seen again. This is all excellent, provided we are given time. It is not so
much a case of illness as of general depression and an obvious alteration in
his features; but with such a mind one cannot be hasty. What a task it is, and
how terrified I should be of it if I did not tell myself that the most unworthy
instrument which God is pleased to choose can become more powerful than
the greatest saint, if God's providence is not pleased to make use of him!

Paris, March 11, 1838.—The English Ministry has triumphantly survived
the crisis which was thought likely to become its overthrow. Will ours pass
equally well through next week's crisis, the question of the secret service
funds? Many batteries have been laid in position against it, and a silent
agitation is proceeding on all sides. It is said that either extremity of the
Chamber will direct a converging fire upon the Ministerial benches, I
suppose with the object of afterwards shooting one another down upon the
field of battle. It is all very distressing.

Paris, March 14, 1838.—I spent two hours yesterday with the Archbishop. I
was better pleased with his sentiments than with his decisions. However,
everything has been left for his meditation. He asked me to write and tell
him what I thought, and I hope, with the grace of God, Who will cast light
here and there, to reach some satisfactory conclusion, both for those who
are to leave us and for those destined to continue their pilgrimage.
On leaving the Archbishop I went to the Vicomtesse de Laval, who is weak
and shaken in health, but alert in heart and mind.
On my return I found M. de Talleyrand depressed and uneasy; he recovered
his spirits after a talk with me. The last few days he has eaten a little better.

In the evening he was not so weak, and I have just heard that he had a quiet
night. I am swayed incessantly between hope and despair, but supported by
the sense that I am useful, and perhaps even necessary. If my strength is to
fail me, I trust that it may last to the end of my task, after which the
sacrifice will have been made, as I made it during my illness at Rochecotte.

Paris, March 15, 1838.—Yesterday I accompanied my sister, who wished
to go once more before her departure to the Chamber of Deputies. I felt
greatly bored. M. Molé spoke very well; M. Barthe was unbearably
superficial; M. Guizot gave us the most wearisome of all his sermons; M.
Passy was coarse without being clever; M. Odilon Barrot was very clever
and witty, and left neither Thiers nor Berryer anything to say, but his
delivery is so oratorical and so badly sustained that it is hard work to listen
to him. On the whole the honours of the session remained with M. Molé; or,
to speak more accurately, if the Ministry gained nothing its adversary lost a
great deal, which amounts to the same thing at the present moment.

Paris, March 16, 1838.—I took Pauline yesterday to mass, to the sermon,
and to the salutation, after which she made her collection. Two funerals
interrupted the collection, preventing any one from coming out, and they
were also delayed by a driving rain, so that we remained standing at the
church door for an interminable time. However, the sermon of the Abbé de
Ravignan, [87] concerning indifference in religion and its various causes,
pleased me greatly, and if it is not one of the best sermons I have read, it is
at any rate one of the best that I have ever heard.
M. Molé, who was dining here, said that this morning in the Chamber,
during the formation of the official bodies, the alliance between men who
were enemies a few months ago was notorious.

Paris, March 17, 1838.—I spent a long time yesterday morning at the
Seminary of Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet, of which the Abbé Dupanloup is
the superior. The good Abbé pleased me greatly, and also expressed his
satisfaction with the little document which I showed him. [88]

In another month we shall have a new poem by M. de Lamartine, called
L'Ange déchu, [89] then the Mélanges littéraires, by M. Villemain, and a
work by M. de Chateaubriand on the Congress of Verona; in short, enough
reading for the whole summer.
M. de Talleyrand says that on May 1 he will go to his estate of Pont de
Sains, in Flanders, stay there for the summer, travel to Nice by easy stages,
starting on September 1, and return to Valençay in the month of May 1839.
Such extensive projects are decidedly rash, and it is unreasonable for him to
expose himself to the damp of Flanders after May 1. I tell him so and trust
to Providence.
The motto, or rather the conclusion of a letter, which I find in an old book
seems to me very pretty: "Be with God." I have adopted it.

Paris, March 22, 1838.—Princesse Marie, who has been here since the
19th, nearly had a miscarriage yesterday, as the result of too long a drive;
while the Duchesse d'Orléans can only avoid one by remaining in her long
chair.
M. de Rumigny, our ambassador at Turin, has brought a foolish dispute
upon himself—a personal quarrel with the King over a matter of etiquette.
Complaints concerning him have come to hand. It is the most foolish
business conceivable, as it is all about the black or white headdresses worn
by the women. Sardinian etiquette allows the Queen alone to wear them.
How absurd it all is!
A coalition between MM. Thiers and Guizot seems likely, but there is such
an outcry against this combination that either party is embarrassed, and it
will probably come to nothing. M. Guizot in particular is experiencing the
evil results of it, because his reputation is suffering greatly, and upon that,
rather than upon his talent, he regarded his importance to be based. The fact
is that notwithstanding all that has been said on either side in the speeches
which closed last session and the discussions that have filled the interval
there is something too abrupt in this alliance, which M. Royer-Collard calls
an impious coalition.

There is much talk of a journey to be made by the King to Nantes and
Bordeaux for the month of June, which would bring us back to Berry and
towards Touraine. Hitherto M. de Talleyrand contemplated only Pont de
Sains, a calamitous idea.

Paris, March 25, 1838.—Yesterday I defied an equinoctial storm to go and
see the Archbishop. By degrees we came to an agreement, in the terms of
the letter, and I hope that we shall arrive at some useful result, but we
require time and the help of outward circumstances which do not depend on
us and must be asked from a greater Power than ourselves. In any case, if
heaven can be importuned by the prayers of earth, the petitions sent up on
this subject should be efficacious.

Paris, March 28, 1838.—Yesterday I had a most important conversation
with M. de Talleyrand, and found him in a state of open-mindedness which
seemed miraculous. I now hope to be able to push steadily forward, and
though the goal is still far away I trust that no precipice will form an
obstacle to my progress.
Death comes upon people here in a terrifying way; M. Alexis de Rougé was
carried off in twelve hours by a sudden stroke of apoplexy. His loss has
thrown many people into great grief.
I have called upon Madame Adélaïde, where I heard all the nice things that
the Duchess of Würtemberg is saying about Germany. The Duchesse
d'Orléans feels that her child has quickened, and I think that her condition
will be publicly announced in a few days.
They say that the young Queen of England gallops down the streets of
London through all the omnibuses and cabs. Her old aunts think this is very
shocking, and so it is.
In the English Parliament there is a coalition no less astounding than that of
MM. Thiers and Guizot; Lord Brougham and Lord Lyndhurst have joined
hands.

Paris, April 1, 1838.—Yesterday I went with my sister to the court of the
Louvre to see the bronze statue which is to be sent off in a few days to
Turin and is on exhibition for the moment. It is a statue of Emmanuel
Philibert of Savoy after the battle of Saint-Quentin, pulling up his horse and
putting his sword into its sheath. It is the work of Marochetti, a delightful
thing, full of grace, nobility, and life. I was very pleased with it, and it
seems to have met with the general approval.

Paris, April 3, 1838.—Yesterday I gave M. de Talleyrand the little
document which I had drawn up for him. The incident passed over without
a storm. I suppose that he will have read and digested it yesterday evening,
and I shall see to-day whether the horizon is clouded.

Paris, April 4, 1838.—The little document was entirely successful.
Yesterday I took my sister to Saint-Roch to hear the Abbé de Ravignan,
who pleased her greatly. He has a fine face, a beautiful voice, an excellent
delivery, faith, conviction, warmth, authority, a close and vigorous style of
argument, couched in clear and noble language, with a precise choice of
words. He is not prolix and never diffuse. He lacks unction and his teaching
is therefore rather doctrinal than evangelical, so that his talent had full
scope as he was preaching on the infallibility of the Church.
M. de Pimodan, a great Legitimist, who was giving his arm to one of the
lady collectors, insolently blocked the Queen's passage; the vicar, the Abbé
Olivier, who was accompanying her to the door, and who is a little thick-set
man, strong as a Turk, vigorously elbowed M. de Pimodan to move him out
of the way; he flew into a rage, and rudely asked the curé what he meant by
shoving him. The Abbé calmly replied: "I meant, sir, to make room for the
Queen"; upon which the gentleman muttered some very insolent remarks,
which passed unnoticed.
The Princesse de Bauffremont, who was to be one of the lady collectors,
heard the evening before that Madame de Vatry was also to perform this
duty. There were six of these ladies, chosen from different circles of
Parisian society, in order to untie as many purse-strings as possible. The
Princess then said that she would not be seen in company with the daughter

of M. Hamguerlot, and withdrew. Was ever such false pride or want of
charity?

Paris, April 8, 1838.—The general attention was occupied by the session in
the Chamber of Peers yesterday. The speech of M. de Brigode which was
delivered the evening before had made every one alert, and the active part
taken by the Duc de Broglie in this discussion seems to be an event, and is
connected with the hostile movement and the impious alliance in the
Chamber of Deputies. The Ministry made an excellent reply to the attacks
of MM. de Broglie and Villemain. M. Pasquier, who is angry at an attempt
to limit his powers, made a very bad President. The Ministry is anxious
concerning Easter week.

The Duc de Talleyrand, younger brother of the Prince de Talleyrand, died
on April 28, 1838. The Duc and Duchesse de Dino then inherited his title,
which they afterwards bore. The following 17th of May the Prince de
Talleyrand died in his turn, after four days' illness.

The following letter was written on May 10, 1838, but was placed at this
point of the Memoirs by the author herself.

A letter addressed by the Duchesse de Talleyrand to the Abbé
Dupanloup with reference to the latter's account of the last
moments of the Prince de Talleyrand.
"I have read with profound emotion, M. l'Abbé, as you may be
sure, the valuable manuscript which I now beg to return to
you. [90]
"Everything is related with a truth and simplicity which must, I
think, touch the hearts of the most indifferent and convince the
most sceptical. I have nothing to add to your account, which
perfectly describes all the incidents of the sad event
unfortunately accomplished before our eyes. But perhaps I alone
am able to point out the course of mental development which for
some years had certainly begun to modify M. de Talleyrand's
feelings. It was a gradual process, and there is a certain interest
in following its slow but sincere growth, as it eventually led him
in so consoling a manner to his goal.
"I will therefore try to retrace my recollections of this matter,
and I think I shall not go back too far if I begin with my
daughter's first communion, which took place at London on
March 31, 1834. On that day she came to ask for the blessing of
M. de Talleyrand, whom she called her good uncle. He gave it
her tenderly, and then said to me: 'How touching is the piety of a
young girl, and how unnatural is unbelief, especially in women.'
However, a short time after our return to France M. de
Talleyrand was alarmed by the strength of my daughter's
feelings. He was afraid that she might be taught to mistrust him,
or to form unfavourable opinions of him, and even asked me to
find out from what point of view Pauline's confessor treated the
subject. I put the question directly to my daughter, who replied
with that candour which you yourself know, that as her uncle did
not involve her in any sin she never spoke of him to her
confessor, who only mentioned him in advising her to pray to
God earnestly for him. M. de Talleyrand was touched by this

answer, and said to me: 'Such conduct is that of an intelligent
and deserving man.'
"From that time he was anxious that Pauline should have more
opportunities for attending church, and even go some distance
from home to receive the benefit of your wise direction; he used
to offer her the use of his carriage, and I have sometimes seen
him go to personal inconvenience for the advantage of his 'little
girl.'
"Eventually he derived a certain self-esteem on account of
Pauline's religious earnestness, and seemed to be flattered that
she should have been so well brought up under his own eyes; he
would often say, in speaking of Pauline, 'She is the angel of the
house.' He took great pleasure, as all good minds do, in
declaring the merits of others. No one could give praise more
gracefully, with greater moderation, advantage, and propriety;
any one who was mentioned or criticised by him received all the
credit that could be his due. Upon occasions he would certainly
utter words of blame, but only at rare intervals, and never with
such direct force as when he praised. He was especially lenient
towards ecclesiastics, and if he disapproved of them it was only
for political reasons, and never on account of their religious
ministrations, while he always expressed himself with great
moderation. He both respected and admired the ancient Church
of France, of which he spoke as a great, a fine, and a
magnificent institution. In his house I have seen cardinals,
bishops, and simple village pastors; all were received with
infinite respect, and became the objects of tactful attention. An
inappropriate word was never uttered before them; M. de
Talleyrand would never have allowed anything of the kind. I
have seen the Bishop of Rennes (the Abbé Mannay) spend
months at Valençay and the Bishop of Evreux (the Abbé
Bourlier) stay at M. de Talleyrand's residence in Paris with the
same purity and freedom of conduct and enjoying the same
respect as in their dioceses. Towards his uncle, the late Cardinal
of Périgord, M. de Talleyrand was a tender, attentive, and
deferential nephew. He was often to be seen at the Archbishop's

house, where he was especially fond of a talk with the Abbé
Desjardins, whom he liked for the gentleness and the wide range
and tact of his conversation.
"I have often been astonished at the unconstraint of my uncle's
bearing in the society of ecclesiastics, which I can only explain
by supposing that he was under a delusion, strange, but real and
long-lasting, concerning his actual position with reference to the
Church. He was quite aware that he had dealt the Church a blow,
but he thought that the process of secularisation which he had
unduly stimulated had been one of simplification rather than of
destruction. [91] As his position thus seemed to him pretty clearly
defined, he regarded it as easy. This mistake lasted as long as his
political life, and only after his retirement did he think of
defining more exactly his relations with the Papacy. But before
this time a vague instinct made him feel that if, in his opinion,
he did not exactly owe any reparation, he owed at least some
consolation to those whom he had saddened. He therefore was
ready to support the interests of the clergy upon every occasion,
and never refused an alms either to a priest in distress or to a
beggar, but tacitly recognised the claims of both upon him. His
charity was great, and I gave him much pleasure by repeating to
him a remark made by a most estimable person, which was as
follows: 'You may set your mind at rest; M. de Talleyrand will
come to a good end, for he is charitable.' I was able to remind
him of this saying at the most solemn hour of his life, as you, M.
l'Abbé, may remember, and remember, also, what consolation he
derived from it. He was always deeply grateful to those in
retirement from the world and in convents who prayed for him.
He never forgot it, and used to say: 'I have some friends among
the good souls.' His heart was touched because he was a good
man, a very good man indeed; he felt this himself when he used
to ask me: 'Am I not really better than I am thought to be?'
Certainly he was better than he was thought; only his
neighbours, his friends, and his servants could appreciate the
extent of his simple kindness, his attention, his love, and his

loyalty. You have seen our tears. The good-hearted alone are
thus lamented.
"After his return from England he was twice strongly impressed
with salutary effect by the Christian death of the Duc de Dalberg
and by the religious habits which characterised the latter part of
the life of Dr. Bourdois, his contemporary, his friend, and his
doctor. He was grateful to Dr. Bourdois for entrusting him to the
clever hands of M. Cruveilhier; he had confidence in his skill,
and felt himself honoured to be so well attended by so religious
a man. The earnestness of his doctor seemed to be regarded by
him as an additional guarantee.
"Pope Pius VII. was always the object of his veneration; he
devoted several pages of his memoirs to the struggle between
this Pope and the Emperor Napoleon, and his view of the matter
was entirely to the advantage of the Pope. He had a strong
admiration for the policy of the Papacy as clever, quiet, gentle,
and always uniform, which qualities he regarded as of first-rate
importance in the conduct of business.
"Throughout the pontificate of Pius VII. my uncle thought
himself in fairly good odour at Rome. In support of this
conviction he often quoted to me a remark by the holy Father
with reference to himself. The Pope was then at Fontainebleau,
and was speaking to the Marquise de Brignole, a friend of M. de
Talleyrand, and said, referring to my uncle: 'May God rest his
soul; for my part, I have a great affection for him.'
"M. de Talleyrand was well aware that I often had the honour of
seeing the Archbishop of Paris, and he had guessed that our
intercourse was actuated by one principal idea as far as M. de
Quélen was concerned—the desire to preserve his relations with
my uncle. M. de Talleyrand was never worried by him; on the
contrary; and though several letters addressed by the Archbishop
of Paris to M. de Talleyrand at different times failed to achieve
their object, he was none the less touched by the enduring
interest he had inspired in a prelate whose character he honoured

and whose sincere zeal and open-mindedness he appreciated. He
also showed much interest in M. de Quélen and his political
position, which he would like to have been able to render easier.
Upon several occasions I have seen him attempt to do him some
service, by advice which he thought useful, or by speaking
warmly in his favour at any other time. This he did not merely
from love of truth, but also as a testimony to the memory of the
late Cardinal Périgord. He often said: 'I look upon M. de Quélen
as a legacy from my uncle, the Cardinal. He likes us and our
name and everything connected with the Cardinal.' On New
Year's Day he used to instruct me to leave his card at the
Archbishop's house, saying, 'We should always treat him as a
grandparent.' He never saw me start upon a visit to Saint-Michel
or to the Sacré Cœur [92] without asking me to give his respects to
the Archbishop. When I came back he used to ask me for news
of him and whether his own name had been mentioned, and
what M. de Quélen had said of him. He would listen attentively
to my answers, smile, and say at length: 'Yes, yes, I know that he
is very anxious to win my soul and to offer it to the Cardinal.'
Up to his last year these remarks were never uttered very
seriously, but with great kindliness.
"On December 10, 1838, I received very early notice of the
death of the Princesse de Talleyrand. I was obliged to announce
the news to my uncle, and I was most reluctant to do so, for it
was just at this time that he was attacked by violent palpitations
which made us fear a sudden death. Excitement above all was to
be avoided, and I was afraid that this news might cause him
some agitation. But it was not so, and he immediately replied
calmly in words which much surprised me: 'That greatly
simplifies my position.' At the same moment from the pocket of
his dressing-jacket he drew out some letters and told me to read
them. The first was written by a religious lady at the Sacré
Cœur; M. de Talleyrand had known her well in past years, had
done her some service, and always called her his old friend; she
was Madame de Marbœuf. In this letter she spoke to him of

God, and sent him a medal, which he always used to wear, and
which to-day becomes yours.
"The second letter was sent to him by a clergyman near Gap,
who was entirely unknown to him, and who spoke of God with
admirable and touching simplicity.
"Finally, the third letter, inspired by the warmest faith, open-
mindedness, reason, and sincere interest, boldly touched upon
my uncle's religious position. He wrote a few lines to the
Duchesse Mathieu de Montmorency to thank her for it, and
constantly carried this letter about with him in a little pocket-
book, where I found it after his death. He often spoke of it, and
of the noble and unfortunate lady who had written it, and always
with warmth and respect.
"He also knew that one of my cousins, Madame de Chabannes, a
nun of the Grandes Carmélites at Paris, constantly prayed for
him; he was touched by the fact, and would say to me, when
speaking of these pious people: 'The good souls will not despair
of me.' I know nothing so gentle or so loving as this saying of
his, which showed that he had no fear that God would abandon
him.
"In the case of any one who knew him as well as I did, attempts
to urge him too rapidly along this path would have been tactless.
It was, indeed, necessary to give these various impressions time
to develop, and with him nothing was done quickly; his trust in
time was infinite, and it was faithful to him unto death.
"Whenever I spoke to my uncle of his marriage, as I often did, I
was not afraid so show him my surprise at a mistake as
inexplicable as it was fatal in the eyes of God. He then replied:
'The truth is that I cannot give you a satisfactory explanation of
it; it was done at a time of general disturbance, when people
attached no great importance to anything, to themselves, or to
others; there was no society and no family, and every one acted
with complete carelessness in the midst of wars and the fall of
empires. You do not know how far astray men may wander in

periods of great social upheaval.' The same idea may be found in
his proposed declaration to the Pope, the original of which is in
my hands, when he wrote: 'This revolution which has swept
everything away and has continued for the last fifty years.'
"Thus you may see that not only did he make no attempt to
justify his marriage, but that he did not even try to explain it.
His domestic life had been very unhappy under the Empire and
the Restoration, and since that time I have always seen him
embarrassed and ashamed of this strange bond which he no
longer wished to bear, but the painful chain of which he could
not entirely break; and when death broke it for him he realised
his deliverance to the full.
"Some time afterwards, in March 1836, one of his servants was
attacked by an illness which was soon declared mortal. My
daughter induced the man to see a priest and to receive the
sacraments. M. de Talleyrand knew of it, and expressed his
satisfaction. On this occasion he said to me: 'Any other
procedure in our house would have been a scandal which would
certainly have caused unpleasant talk; I am delighted that
Pauline should have prevented it.' The same evening he related
the incident to Madame de Laval, and enlarged with satisfaction
upon the influence which Pauline exerted upon the whole house
by her firm and modest earnestness.
"In the spring of 1837 my uncle desired to leave Fontainebleau,
whither he had come for the marriage of the Duc d'Orléans,
before the Court had finished its stay. He told me to remain and
to be present at the great festival which the King gave at
Versailles a few days later. I rejoined him afterwards at Berry,
where he had been anxious to go in time to meet the Archbishop
of Bourges at Valençay, who was passing that way while making
a tour of his diocese. I heard from Pauline that M. de Talleyrand
had shown special attention to the prelate, even to the point of
changing his personal customs. On Friday and Saturday he had
declined to have meat upon his table, and all the meals were
served as for a fast day.

"During the summer of the same year, 1837, the superior of the
Sisters of Saint-André, who were established at Valençay by the
care of M. de Talleyrand, came to inspect this community. He
called at the Castle, where he was asked to dinner. As we left the
table M. de Talleyrand said to me: 'I have an idea that the Abbé
Taury is a member of the community of Saint-Sulpice; go and
ask him.' I brought back a reply in the affirmative. 'I was sure of
it,' he returned with satisfaction; 'there is a gentleness and
reserve and a sense of propriety in the members of that
community which is quite unmistakable.'
"On Sundays and great festivals M. de Talleyrand was always
present at mass when he was at Valençay; on his two patron
saints' days, St. Charles and St. Maurice, he was also present,
and would have felt hurt if the vicar had not come to say mass at
the Château. His behaviour in chapel was entirely proper, and
notwithstanding his infirmity he would always kneel down at
the right moment. If there was no mass, if people came late or
made a noise, he noticed it as being improper. During mass he
read attentively either the Funeral Orations of Bossuet or his
Discourse upon Universal History. One Sunday, however, in
November 1837 he had forgotten his book, and took one of the
two which Pauline had brought for herself. It was the Imitation
of Jesus Christ. As he gave it back to her he turned to me and
asked me to give him a copy of this admirable book. I offered
him mine, which he afterwards took to mass in preference to any
other.
"He regarded it as important that the officiating priest should
perform the service in full, and often quoted the Archbishop of
Paris as the ecclesiastic whose conduct of the service was most
to his taste and most dignified. One Sunday I ventured to tell
him that during mass my thoughts had wandered in his
direction. He wished to know them, and I ventured to tell him
that I had been wondering what his thoughts could be when he
remembered that he too had held the same distinction as the
priest officiating before him. His reply seemed to me to be an
obvious proof of the delusion under which he was concerning

his true ecclesiastical position. He said: 'Why do you think it
strange to see me at mass? I go there as you do, or any one else.
You are constantly forgetting that I have resigned my orders,
which fact makes my position very simple.' At that time he
wished to show me the letters granting his resignation, but they
were at Paris. After his death I found them, with all the papers
relating to this business, and very curious they are. I examined
them carefully; they showed me that his marriage alone had
been the great obstacle to his reconciliation with the Church; his
other offences had been pardoned and the ecclesiastical censure
removed at Paris by Cardinal Caprara in the name of the Pope.
"I referred just now to the attention with which M. de Talleyrand
used to read Bossuet's Discourse on Universal History; this fact
recalls to my mind an incident which seemed to me remarkable.
One day at Valençay, I think in the year 1835, he asked me to
come into his room. I found him there reading. 'Come,' he said,
'I wish to show you how mysteries should be spoken of; read
aloud and read slowly.' I read the following: "In the year 4000 of
the world's history, Jesus Christ the son of Abraham in time, the
Son of God in eternity, was born of a virgin.' 'Learn the passage
by heart,' he said to me, 'and see with what authority and what
simplicity all mysteries may be concentrated in these few lines.
Thus and thus only it is proper to speak of holy things. They are
imposed upon us, but not explained to us. That fact alone
secures their acceptance; in other forms they are worthless, for
doubt begins when authority ends, and authority, tradition, and
dominion are only revealed sufficiently in a Catholic church.' He
always had something unpleasant to say about Protestantism; he
had seen it at close quarters in America, and had preserved a
disagreeable memory of it.
"In the month of December 1837 I felt seriously ill. We were
then at my house at Rochecotte, where, unfortunately, spiritual
resources are few. However, as I felt in some danger I wished to
send for the local clergyman. My uncle heard of it, and as I was
getting well he showed some surprise. 'So you have reached that
point,' he said to me; 'and how did you get there?' I told him as

simply as I could, and he listened with much interest. In
conclusion I added that, among many other serious
considerations, I had not forgotten that of my social position,
which I was the more bound to remember in view of its
importance. He then interrupted me quickly and said: 'In truth
there is nothing less aristocratic than unbelief.' Two days
afterwards he re-opened a similar conversation of his own
accord, made me go through the same details, then looked at me
steadily and said: 'You believe, then?' 'Yes, sir,' I replied, 'firmly.'
"During our last stay together at Rochecotte he heard of the
arrest of the Archbishop of Cologne; he seemed to regard it as
an important event. 'This may give us back the line of the
Rhine,' he said immediately. 'In any case, it is a grain of
Catholicism sown in Europe; you will see it rise and grow
vigorously.'
"At that time I came across a passage dealing with the limits of
the spiritual and temporal powers, which is to be found in the
discourse delivered by Fénelon at the consecration of the
Archbishop of Cologne. I showed this fine passage to my uncle,
who was delighted with it, and said: 'That should be copied and
sent to the King of Prussia.'
"When we returned to Paris in the month of January 1838 M. de
Talleyrand was soon deprived of the little exercise which he had
been able hitherto to take. He sprained his foot at the English
Embassy, where he was dining, on January 27. The winter was
very cold, and the douching which was ordered for his sprained
foot to restore its strength gave him a cold. The cold became
bronchitis, and he could not sleep or eat. Every morning he used
to complain of his harassing insomnia. 'When one cannot sleep,'
he said, 'one thinks terribly.' Once he added: 'During these long
nights I recall many events of my life.' 'Can you give yourself
reasons for them all?' I asked him. 'No,' he said; 'in truth there
are some I do not understand in the least; others that I can
explain and excuse; and others, too, for which I blame myself
the more severely as they were performed with extreme

carelessness, though they have since been my chief cause of
self-reproach. If I had acted according to any system or
principle, then I should certainly understand them, but my
actions were performed without consideration and with the
carelessness of that age, as was almost everything done in our
youth.' I told him that it was preferable, in my opinion, to have
acted thus than as a result of false doctrine. He admitted that I
was right.
"It was at the end of one of these conversations that your letter
arrived, M. l'Abbé, the letter that you quote in your interesting
narrative. He handed it to me to read, and said somewhat
abruptly: 'If I were to fall seriously ill, I should ask for a priest.
Do you think the Abbé Dupanloup would come?' 'I have no
doubt of it,' I replied; 'but he could only be of any use to you if
you re-entered the communion from which you have
unfortunately departed.' 'Yes,' he replied, 'I owe something to
Rome, I know well, and have thought of it for a long time.' 'For
how long?' I asked him, surprised, I admit, at this unexpected
beginning. 'Since the last visit of the Archbishop of Bourges to
Valençay, and afterwards when the Abbé Taury came there. I
then wondered why the Archbishop, who at that time was more
directly my spiritual pastor, did not open the subject. Why did
the apostle of Saint-Sulpice never speak to me?' 'Unfortunately,'
I replied, 'they would not have dared.' 'Yet,' he said, 'I would
have welcomed anything of the kind.' Deeply moved by such
satisfactory words, I took his hand, and, standing before him
with tears in my eyes, I said: 'Why wait for any one to open the
question? Why not take for yourself spontaneously, freely, and
nobly the step that is at once most honourable to yourself, most
consoling to the Church and to all right-minded people? I am
sure that you would find Rome well disposed, while the
Archbishop of Paris is deeply attached to you; so make the trial.'
He did not interrupt me, and I was able to go further into this
delicate and even thorny question, though it was a question that
I thoroughly understood, as it had been repeatedly explained to
me by M. de Quélen, who had been anxious to make me realise

all its bearings. We were interrupted before I had been able to
say all I wished, but on going to my room I wrote M. de
Talleyrand a long letter under stress of my deep devotion. He
read it with that trustfulness with which he was accustomed to
rely upon my instinct when his reputation and his real interest
was at stake. So my letter made an impression upon him, though
he did not tell me so until later, when he gave me a paper for M.
de Quélen, of which I will speak afterwards.
"In the month of March 1838 he read a eulogy upon M.
Reinhard at the Academy of Moral and Political Science. His
doctor feared the effect upon him of such an enterprise. Our
attempts to dissuade him were in vain. 'This is my last
appearance in public,' he said, 'and nothing shall keep me back.'
He was anxious to use the opportunity for explaining his
political doctrines and for showing that they were those of an
honest man. He even hoped that he would be thus of some use to
those who proposed to follow a diplomatic career. The evening
before the meeting he went over his speech with me, and said:
'The religion of duty; that will please the Abbé Dupanloup.'
When we reached the passage concerning theological study I
interrupted him to say: 'Admit that that is intended much rather
for yourself than for good M. Reinhard.' 'Why, certainly,' he
replied, 'there is no harm in letting the public see my point of
departure.' 'I am delighted,' I said, 'to see you overshadowing the
end of your life with the recollections and traditions of your
early youth.' 'I was sure you would be pleased with it,' was his
kindly reply.
"M. de Talleyrand bore the strain of this fatiguing meeting,
where he was successful in every way, remarkably well. From
the point of view of literature and politics he was successful, and
also as a nobleman and an honest man. When he returned home
he at once sent the first proofs of his speech to M. de Quélen
and to you. He expected your approval, and was touched by it.
"Then his health seemed to improve; he recovered his strength,
made plans for travel, and talked of Nice for the following

winter; he felt his powers reviving, and noticed it with pleasure.
On April 28, however, when he heard of his brother's death, who
was eight years younger than himself, he put his hands before
his eyes and said: 'Another warning, my dear child. Do you
know whether my brother recovered his memory before death?'
'Unfortunately not, sir,' I said. He then resumed with extreme
sadness: 'How dreadful it is thus to fall from the most worldly
life into dotage, and from dotage into death!'
"This painful shock did not check the improvement in his health,
and we were able to think that he had been restored to life. I am
the more careful to observe that this was the moment, when all
idea of an approaching death was far away, when he chose to
undertake seriously the project of submission to the Pope. He
drew up a form of declaration without saying anything to me of
it, a kind of pleasant surprise which he wished to keep for me.
One day, when he saw me ready to go to Conflans to M. de
Quélen, he drew from the drawer of his desk, the desk at which I
am now writing, a sheet of paper covered on both sides, with
erasures at several points. 'Here,' he said, 'is something which
will secure you a hearty reception where you are going. You
shall tell me what the Archbishop thinks of it.' On my return I
told him that M. de Quélen deeply appreciated the paper, but
wished the statements there expressed to be presented in a more
canonical form, and intended to send him the ecclesiastical
formula in a few days.
"You know better than any one, sir, that thus the matter was
actually carried out. M. de Talleyrand also spoke to me on the
same day of his intention to write an explanatory letter to the
Pope when sending him the declaration. He went into full
details, and insisted upon his willingness to speak of Pauline in
this letter. He ended by a saying which seems to me of
considerable importance: 'What I am to do should be dated
during the week of my speech to the Academy. I do not wish
people to be able to say that I was in my dotage.' This idea was
carried out upon his deathbed, and was performed as he wished.

"But here I must stop. Attractive as the subject may be, your
narrative contains full details. Moreover, during my uncle's
illness I was nothing more than his nurse, and my actions were
confined to summoning the consolations of your presence and to
obeying my uncle by reading to him the two addresses to Rome
before he signed them. I forced myself to read them slowly and
seriously, because I neither would nor could diminish in any
way the merit of his action; it was necessary that he should
thoroughly understand what he was about to do. His faculties
were too clear, heaven be praised, and his attention too
concentrated, for any hurried or confused reading to have
satisfied him. It was for me to justify his touching confidence
which had induced him to wish this important reading to be
performed by myself, and only the firmness and clearness of my
pronunciation could satisfy this condition. He was to be left to
the last moment in full consciousness of his act and full freedom
of his will. From this difficult task I have derived the complete
indifference with which I have afterwards faced any doubts,
attacks, or calumnies of which I have been the object.
"I can say in the sight of God that there was no ignorance or
weakness on the part of M. de Talleyrand; there was no delusion
and no abuse of confidence on my part. His generous nature, the
recollections of his early youth, his family traditions, the wide
experience of a long career, the example of Pauline, some
explanations which I was instructed to give him, the confidence
with which you were able to inspire him, the revelation that
comes to every man at the gate of the tomb, and above all the
infinite mercy of a gracious Providence—such are the reasons
which allow us to honour him as sincerely in his death as we
loved him in his life.
"Carried away by a subject which is near to my heart, I have
overstepped the limits which I had at first laid down, but I have
no fear that I have wearied you by recalling your attention to
details which I know you will value, and which for me have the
special advantage that they have established, M. l'Abbé,
between us, a bond which nothing can weaken or break.

"Duchesse de Talleyrand,
"Princesse de Courlande."

Heidelberg, August 27, 1838.—I have been here with my daughter since
yesterday evening. My sister, the Duchesse de Sagan, arrived the previous
evening. This morning, at six o'clock, faithful to my habits at Baden, I went
out while my sister and daughter were still asleep, and while recalling
memories of the place I found the bridge and stopped before the statue of
the Elector Charles Theodore; I then crossed the river and walked upon the
banks of the Neckar for three-quarters of an hour, with the town upon my
left, dominated by the old castle. The pretty landscape, with the river valley,
the position of the town, and even the style of the agriculture, reminded me
of the hillsides of Amboise and my dear Loire, and was pleasantly lighted
by the broken rays of a sun struggling through light clouds.
I now know who wrote the article upon M. de Talleyrand which appeared in
the Gazette of Augsburg. My sister read it in manuscript. The writer was the
Minister Schulenburg, a clever man, who had seen a great deal of M. de
Talleyrand in past times. He is a friend of the Vicomtesse de Laval, and saw
M. de Talleyrand at her house once more when he came to Paris eighteen
months ago. He is anxious not to be known as the author of this article.

Paris, September 6, 1838.—I arrived here the day before yesterday, and
found a letter which told me that as M. Molé had refused to make an
alliance with M. Guizot, the latter had formed a coalition with M. Thiers.
M. Guizot will become President of the Chamber of Deputies and M. Thiers
Prime Minister. All this is to be revealed and settled during the discussion
upon the Address. I cannot guarantee this story. The King is at Eu, and I
shall not see the Court until I return.
I am just finishing the last work of Villemain. [93] The first chapter of the
second volume deals with Montesquieu; the second is a detailed analysis of
the Esprit des Lois, which is much too deep for me. The following chapters
summarise the bad philosophy of the eighteenth century, as it appears in the
mouths of its prophets, its votaries, and its adversaries. The last part of the
volume is devoted to Rousseau, by whose charms Villemain seems too

obviously to have been overcome. I have no kindly feelings for Rousseau,
for he was a hypocrite, and Voltaire's cynicism is perhaps less disgusting; at
any rate, Voltaire was not guilty of so many positively bad actions as
Rousseau, and mere talent in itself is no justification for either man.
My children write from Valençay saying that the crowd at the funeral
ceremony was enormous. [94] Starting from Blois, the procession was joined
by the people of all the neighbouring settlements on foot, in great sadness,
while at night they came with torches. On the carriage which bore the coffin
of M. de Talleyrand and that of my granddaughter, Yolande, were Hélie and
Péan; [95] in the carriage which followed was my son Alexandre. All the
clergy of the district offered their services. My son Valençay also sends me
the programme of the ceremony, which seems very well arranged; I
especially approve of a large distribution of charity to the poor, who should
never be forgotten, neither in joy nor sorrow.
Before starting, the coffin of M. de Talleyrand was covered with black
velvet, with silver nails, and bore an escutcheon with his arms, his name
and distinctions; the coffin of Yolande was covered with white velvet. The
arrival of the funeral procession in the Castle court at Valençay, at ten
o'clock at night in the most beautiful moonlight, is said to have been
extremely imposing; there was deep silence, broken only by the sound of
the hearse as it slowly passed the draw-bridge. The bodies were placed for
the night in the church, and watched by the clergy in prayer. The coffin of
the Duc de Talleyrand, accompanied by the doctor who had attended him,
arrived two hours later.

Paris, September 7, 1838.—The Princesse de Lieven, whom I saw
yesterday, told me that she no longer receives any letters from her husband.
She examined me closely as to any information I might have gained in
Germany concerning her Emperor, whom I think she really hates as much
as the inhabitants of Warsaw can hate him. If, however, she was once more
within his grasp, or merely out of France, her patriotism would be equal to
that of any old Muscovite. She told me that at Munich the Emperor
Nicholas had displayed great exasperation with the Russian Minister at the
enormous expense to which he had gone for the reception of the Empress,
saying, "Do you wish, then, to increase our unpopularity?" She spoke a

great deal of the father's carelessness with respect to his son's well-being.
Apart from the rapidity of their journey, and the scanty food which the
father gave him in the course of it, he made the Grand Duke continually
hold his legs outside the carriage, no matter what the weather might be, in
order that they should not be in his father's way.
I am assured that Queen Victoria, who showed herself so anxious to escape
from the maternal yoke, is now trying to avoid the influence of her uncle,
King Leopold.
The Flahaut family have been saying the most horrible things at London
about the Tuileries, and the Tuileries are aware of the fact.
France has abandoned Belgium in the course of the negotiations in progress
at London, and forces her to yield upon all questions of territory, but
supports her pecuniary claim; between the figures of Leopold and King
William there is a difference of 16,000,000. The Powers wish to
compromise, but Leopold objects, and refuses to relax his grasp of Limburg
until the crowns are paid.
In Spain Queen Christina is trying to make money out of everything, and
demands a price for every nomination that she makes. She thinks only of
amassing money and spending it quietly out of Spain, for which she may
speedily have an opportunity. Her sister, whose practical mind has already
gained her a certain influence here, and who might be able to marry her
prettiest daughter to the Duc de Nemours, is intriguing vigorously against
her.
M. Thiers spent three hours with Count Metternich near Como, and showed
anything but sympathy for Spain during the conversation. However, people
have not been taken in and prejudice remains unaltered.

Bonnétable, September 17, 1838.—I reached this strange place an hour
before dinner-time. The country is very pretty, but the castle stands at the
end of a little town, and the only view is the high-road which runs along the
moat. It is an old manor-house, with heavy turrets, thick walls, and the
windows few and narrow. There is little in the way of furniture or
decoration, but it is solid and clean, and the necessaries of life of every kind

are at hand, from an almorne to a warming-pan. The mistress of the house,
an active, bustling, good-tempered lady, is largely occupied in most
charitable work, in which she shows great insight, and really leads the life
of a Christian widow, on the principles laid down by St. Jerome. In short,
one is inclined to think oneself in a country far away from France and in a
century quite remote from the nineteenth. Evening prayers are said all
together at nine o'clock in the chapel, and are read by the Duchesse Mathieu
de Montmorency herself. They moved me deeply, especially the prayer for
the rest of the departed, repeated by one who has survived all her relatives,
whether older, of her own age, or younger than herself. This prayer in the
mouth of one who is thus alone, without forefathers or posterity, was
strangely sad. The other isolated being, poor Zoé, [96] who repeated the
responses, completed the picture and the impression, which went to my
heart. All the servants were present. No more edifying spectacle could be
seen than that of this great and ancient house. The Duchesse is very highly
connected, and came to her title through the Luynes, who had inherited it by
marriage from the Duchesse de Nemours, one of whom had married the
niece.

Bonnétable, September 18, 1838.—If the weather were not so damp I
should find much interest in this place, which is quite unique. Mass brings
the household together every morning at ten o'clock; we do not lunch until
eleven o'clock, and have then half an hour for walking in the moats, which
are dry and have been turned into gardens by the care of the Duchesse; she
also took us for a walk around her kitchen garden and the whole of her
strange household. After lunch we worked round a table at an altar-cloth,
while the prior read his newspapers aloud. At one o'clock we went to visit
the fine hospital and the schools founded by the Duchesse; everything is
perfectly arranged, and much better cared for than the castle. There are six
beds for men and six for women, a kind of boarding-school for twelve girls,
and classes for day scholars and the poor, together with a large dispensary.
This is all in one place, with the necessary outbuildings. Eight sisters do the
work of the establishment, which is really very fine. The Duchesse then
made us get into an old carriage with worm-eaten lining, but drawn by four
handsome horses, driven very cleverly four-in-hand by one of the coachmen
of Charles X. With Madame de Montmorency everything is in contrast. She

inherited her taste for horses from her mother, and indulges herself in that
respect; she has no taste for carriages, and does not care if the one makes
the other look shabby. Thus drawn over shocking roads, we reached a
magnificent forest of full-grown timber, where the fine trees are only cut
every hundred years. It is really beautiful. In the centre of this forest, where
six roads meet, is a vast clearing; there the Duchesse has built a china
factory, with all the necessary outbuildings, which is almost a village. She
has spent a great deal of money on it, and admits herself that it is not a
lucrative investment, but it gives occupation to sixty-eight people, is a
reason for a pretty walk, and an additional interest for herself. I made a few
purchases, and Pauline was interested in seeing the pottery moulded, fired,
painted, and enamelled.
After dinner one of the local clergy called while we spent our time in
embroidery, as after lunch, and talked of matters of local interest. Then
came prayers, good-night, and sleep.

Bonnétable, September 19, 1838.—Yesterday it rained all day. No one went
out except the clergy, who were going to a retreat at Mans, and stopped here
to pay their respects to the Duchesse. The sisters also came in for their
orders. The Duchesse is in very good spirits. She has the gift of narrative,
and kept the conversation going very well throughout a long day, without
the smallest appearance of ill-nature. When I went down to my room she
lent me a manuscript book of her thoughts. She writes wonderfully, and her
writing displays a wealth and variety of astonishing description. The
outpourings of her heart since her husband's death are especially touching,
and display a tenderness of feeling which would hardly be guessed from her
outward appearance. I shall leave her entirely overcome by the warmth of
her reception, her fine qualities, and the admirable example which she sets
here.

Rochecotte, September 27, 1838.—Yesterday I had a most unexpected piece
of news which grieved me deeply: Madame de Broglie is dead of brain
fever, though she was so young, at any rate for death—a year younger than
myself—though she was so happy, healthy, beautiful, useful, distinguished,

and beloved. In one short week she was carried off, though prepared for
death by her constant goodness. It has been no surprise to her.
Almost the same day, but after a longer illness, amid the dissipations of too
worldly a life, died Lady Elizabeth Harcourt. She was of the same age, and
also handsome, but I think in no way prepared for the dread passage.
With the death of my brother-in-law, the Prince of Hohenzollern-
Hechingen, I have heard of three deaths during the last week. Last month
Anatole de Talleyrand died; in the month of July Madame de Laval; on May
17 M. de Talleyrand; on April 28 my father-in-law; in March my uncle
Medem. In less than seven months eight persons have disappeared who
were bound to me by ties of blood, friendship, or intercourse. Death
surrounds me on every hand, and I can no longer trust either to the
freshness of my daughter or to the cares of others; only the goodness of
God can be infallibly trusted, and on His infinite mercy I must rely, and
confide my loved ones to His care.
During the last two days of her life Madame de Broglie was delirious, and
chanted the Psalms so loudly that one could hear her from one end of her
residence to the other. When she was not singing she talked to her brother
and her daughter who had died years before.

Valençay, October 3, 1838.—I am again in this beautiful spot, so rich in
memories and so deprived of life and movement. I reached here yesterday
in the moonlight, which suits the place so well, and which M. de Talleyrand
always pointed out to us with such admiration. It was an unpleasant
journey: broken carriages, tired horses, bad postillions, torn harness, and
abominable roads, as they are being repaired or constructed afresh; in short,
a series of petty obstacles, which troubled and vexed us, and made us late.
M. de Talleyrand's old dog, Carlos, was strangely excited at our arrival, and
pulled Mlle. Henriette by her dress, as if he would say, "Come and help me
to look for the missing one."

Paris, October 9, 1838.—I am now again in Paris, though I cannot conceal
the fact that a stay in this town makes me sadder than ever. How I long for
my workmen, my garden, the soft skies of Touraine, the quiet of the

country, the restfulness of the fields, time to think and to reflect, of which I
am here deprived by constant business and worry!

Paris, October 12, 1838.—Yesterday I went to the Convent of the Sacré
Cœur, where I stayed a long time with the Archbishop of Paris. He gave me
an exact translation of the letter of secularisation sent by Pius VII. to M. de
Talleyrand. It is a curious document, and shows that even though M. de
Talleyrand, with his habitual carelessness, had mistaken the text, the general
sense had been known to him, and that he had every reason to say that
Rome could not be too exacting without self-contradiction. As, however,
the letter had preceded the marriage of M. de Talleyrand, and as that
marriage was not authorised by the Church, it was actually necessary for
him to retract. This was done in verba generalia, as Rome admitted, and so
every one should be satisfied.
When I returned home I gave orders that I should not be disturbed during
the evening, and busied myself in putting the papers that I had found at M.
de Talleyrand's house into some order. I shall complete this work only by
degrees, for it causes me keen emotion. For instance, I came upon a note
which M. de Talleyrand sent to me from his room to mine on February 6,
1837, [97] in which he told me that at his supreme hour his only anxiety
would be my future and my happiness. I cannot say how this scrap of paper
has agitated me.

Paris, October 13, 1838.—M. de Montrond came to see me yesterday. He
showed himself extremely kind and soothing; but the true nature of things
peeps out invariably, and towards the end of his call, which had been spent
in expressions of regret for M. de Talleyrand's death, he let fall a phrase to
this effect: "Do you propose to become a lady of the Faubourg Saint-
Germain?" I was able to reply that I had no need to do anything of the kind,
that my position was plain: a lady of rank and independent means,
unwilling to sacrifice my opinions here or my position there; too deeply
attached to the memory of M. de Talleyrand not to be on good terms with
the Tuileries, and too good company not to live happily with my family and
my own friends. He replied that I had not forgotten to speak like M. de
Talleyrand himself. Then he rose, took my hand, and asked me if I would

not be kind to him, saying that he was alone in the world, that he was very
anxious for opportunities to talk of M. de Talleyrand with me sometimes,
and then he began to weep like a child. I told him that he would always find
me ready to listen to him, and to reply, if he spoke of M. de Talleyrand, a
subject of inexhaustible interest to myself. Human nature is remarkable in
its great diversity and its astonishing contrasts.

Paris, October 17, 1838.—I have only had two satisfactory incidents since
my return: the arrival of my son Valençay, who is so good to me, and a long
conversation with the Abbé Dupanloup, which went on yesterday for two
hours at my house. Our minds are in sympathy, and, what is better, we are
marvellously alert to divine one another's feelings, and both noticed it,
owing to the strange and rapid coincidence of our expressions. He has a
rapidly working mind, and for that reason pleased M. de Talleyrand, while
with him one is never embarrassed or hampered, and transitional ideas are
never clogged; his clearness of mind is never marked by dryness, because
he has a sweet and most affectionate soul. My long intercourse with M. de
Talleyrand has made it difficult for ordinary people to get on with me; I
meet minds which seem slow, diffuse, and ill-developed; they are always
putting on the brake, like people going downhill; I have spent my life with
my shoulder to the wheel in uphill work. In M. de Talleyrand's lifetime I
took more pleasure in the society of others, because I fully enjoyed my own
society with him; perhaps also because I sometimes felt the need of rest at
some lower elevation. But to-day I feel that I am being overcome, in a
moral sense, by what the English call creeping paralysis; in short, yesterday
I was able to spread my wings for a moment, and it did me good. I
complained to him of the want of system in my life, of the weariness and
oppression which were the result of overstrain. He spoke of my reading,
and told me that he thought I should be deeply attracted by patristic
literature; he promised to sketch out a little course of reading for me within
my range. He is no inquisitive or indiscreet converter of souls; he is a good
and intelligent man, a pure and lofty soul, discreet and moderate, whose
influence can never be anything but wise, gentle, and restrained.

Paris, October 18, 1838.—The Princess Christian of Denmark, who is at
this moment at Carlsruhe, is no longer young; but fifteen years ago, when

she came to Paris, she was very pretty; her complexion, hair, and shoulders
were especially beautiful. Her features were less striking, and those are the
most permanent elements in beauty. I know that she and her husband have
retained a very kindly feeling for the present royal family of France.
Princess Christian is the granddaughter of the unfortunate Queen Mathilda
of Denmark. Prince Christian's first wife was a mad woman with dreadful
manners. [98] She went to Rome for refuge and to join the Catholic Church,
and there she plunged into the most ridiculous mummeries. Her husband
adored her, and if the King of Denmark had not insisted upon a separation
Prince Christian would have remained under her yoke. He still corresponds
with her, and has never ceased to regret her loss. The present Princess
Christian, though prettier, is quite sensible, but has never had much
influence with her husband, owing, it is said, to the fact that she has no
children. The first wife was the mother of Prince Frederick, who is an exile
in Jutland.
Paris, October 20, 1838.—Yesterday I went with Pauline to the Comédie-
Française to hear Mlle. Rachel, who is now causing so great a sensation. I
was not at all pleased. They all acted very badly, though Mlle. Rachel is not
so bad as the rest. They played Andromaque, in which she took the part of
Hermione, the part of irony, scorn, and disdain. She went through it
accurately and intelligently, but there is no sympathy or attraction in her
acting. She has a thin voice, is neither pretty nor beautiful, but very young,
and might become an excellent actress if she had good training. The rest of
the company is wretched. I was very bored, and returned home benumbed.

Paris, October 21, 1838.—The Duchesse de Palmella, whom I saw
yesterday, told me a strange thing. She said that the Duke of Leuchtenberg,
the first husband of Queen Doña Maria, had never been her husband; that
on his arrival in Portugal he was attacked with scurvy, which made him
contagious and greatly disgusted his wife, who adores the little Coburg. She
is now expecting her confinement.
With Pauline I called upon the Duchesse d'Orléans, who seemed to have
recovered very well from her confinement. Her child, which she was kind
enough to show us, is really charming. She has every reason to be as proud
of him as she is.

We came home for an audience granted me by the Infanta Carlotta, the wife
of Don Francisco. Like myself, they are both staying in the Galliffet
residence. [99] It was a curious interview. The Infanta is a much bolder figure
than Madame de Zea, and much taller. She is very fair, with a face which,
though washed out, is none the less stern, with a rough manner of speaking.
I felt very ill at ease with her, although she was very courteous. Her
husband is red-haired and ugly, and the whole tribe of little Infantas, boys
and girls, are all utterly detestable. The eldest of the princesses is well
brought up, inclined to talk, and graciously took notice of Pauline. In my
opinion, this Infanta would be a most unpleasant Sovereign.

Paris, October 31, 1838.—During the last two days I have seen a great deal
of the Comtesse de Castellane. She speaks of only one thing which she
wants, and for which she is working with incredible energy. I cannot
complain, as her efforts show how much she thinks of my daughter, to
whom she wishes to marry the young Henri de Castellane. Yesterday I went
to consult the Archbishop on the point. He, as well as the Abbé Dupanloup,
seems to think that of all the possible openings that have hitherto appeared
Henri de Castellane would offer the best chance of domestic happiness, by
reason of his personal merits. Both of them say that Pauline ought to choose
for herself, after due examination. Examination requires acquaintanceship;
to become acquainted they must see one another; and to see one another
they must meet. And so I have reached a new phase in my life, when I am
obliged to give a young man the run of my house in order to see what he is
worth. I have known M. de Castellane personally for many years, but I have
lost sight of him for a long time; besides, he is going to marry Pauline, and
not me. He is clever and well-educated, hard-working, and, I think,
ambitious. He is very correct and polite, lives a retired life, and goes only
into the best society; he is a good son and a good brother, has an excellent
name, but no title at present, and no prospect; has few family ties, and
wishes to live in the same house as myself at Paris, though with a separate
establishment. He is respectful to his mother, but not on confidential terms
with her; wishes to have a religious wife, though he does not practise the
forms of religion himself. He is to have twenty thousand francs income
when he marries, and thirty thousand more from his grandmother. He has a
childless uncle who is worth forty-two millions. For the moment the uncle

will not give or promise or guarantee anything, but he is very anxious for
the marriage, and as he is eccentricity personified he may come down
handsomely some day. The Abbé Dupanloup advises me to speak to Pauline
on the subject without any constraint, and also to tell her of other proposals
made for her hand. She does not like Jules de Clermont-Tonnerre, and
thinks he looks vulgar; the Duc de Saulx-Tavannes horrifies her—as a
matter of fact he has the figure of an elephant, while there is madness in the
family on both sides. The Duc de Guiche is not yet nineteen years of age,
has no property whatever, a number of brothers and sisters, a rather foolish
mother, while his family are always in extremities. The Marquis de Biron is
very rich and a good fellow; he is a childless widower, but extremely
stupid, and a red-hot Carlist. Pauline has recently seen M. de Castellane on
two occasions, and likes him greatly; but she says she would like to know
more of him, to make certain of his principles and belief. I tell her that there
is no hurry, that she can very well wait, and that in any case I shall not
consent to any marriage taking place until our business affairs have been
wound up, the will declared, and the anniversary of the 17th of May over.
This is understood, though the parties would like a promise to be given
before that date, without celebrating the marriage. I can also understand that
they would like to make certain of Pauline, but I do not propose to have our
throats cut in that way. Madame Adélaïde, who is much afraid that Pauline's
marriage might prevent her from going to the Tuileries, is a warm supporter
of M. de Castellane. She let me know that M. de Talleyrand, to her
knowledge, had thought of him. This is true, but he was more inclined to M.
de Mérode, though family arrangements made the proposal impossible;
besides, Pauline likes M. de Castellane much better than M. de Mérode.
Another who has been mentioned to me is Elie de Gontaut, the younger
brother of the Marquis of Saint-Blancard, but he is a young fop, and, though
rich, his position as younger brother is very pronounced, and that would not
please Pauline. In short, there is a perfect crowd of suitors, and I do not
know to whom I should listen. One point is certain, and I shall make it
perfectly clear: that Pauline herself will have to make the choice. [100]

CHAPTER IV
1840

The Duchesse de Sagan, eldest sister of the Duchesse de Talleyrand, had
died in the winter of 1840. A number of business difficulties were involved
by the disposal of her property, and the Duchesse de Talleyrand resolved
upon a journey to Prussia, which she had not visited since her marriage. She
was accompanied by her eldest son, M. de Valençay, while her
correspondent, M. de Bacourt, who had been appointed French Minister to
the United States, went to take up his new post at Washington, where he
remained for several years.

Amiens, May 16, 1840.—I cannot say with what fear I think of my
departure from Paris this morning and of the real trials upon which we are
to enter. I am now on the way to Germany, while you are starting for
America. [101] But to return to my journey of to-day: the roads are heavy, the
postillions brought us along rather badly, and we did not arrive here until
nine o'clock in the evening. I have read a good deal of the life of Cardinal
Ximenes. It is a sober and a serious book, correctly written, but cold, and
progress in it is difficult. I do not, however, regret my trouble with it, for I
know but little of this great character, and he is worth studying.
The country is beautifully green and fresh, with bushy vegetation. We had
pleasant weather, in spite of a few showers, but twenty times I told myself
that travelling was the most foolish of all professions; to be carried along
these interminable roads, bumped upon their rough surface, delivered to the
tender mercies of postillions, fleeing from all one loves, going as rapidly as
possible towards things and people who are quite uninteresting; thus
spending one's life as though it were eternal, and only realising its shortness
when it is at an end.

Lille, May 17, 1840.—This morning before leaving Amiens we heard mass
in the fine cathedral. The 17th of May is a date of special import to myself.
I gave myself some credit for going to mass so far from the house of the
rector of the Academy, M. Martin, with whom we put up; then it was
raining hard, and the Picard streets are very dirty and the pavement
detestable.
The cathedral is really magnificent; strength, grace, and boldness are
combined; stained-glass windows alone are wanting, as the light is too
bright. I prayed with all my heart for the dead and for the living, and for the
travellers who are to entrust themselves to the sea or traverse unknown
lands.
On the road from Amiens to this town I read the Diable boiteux, the merits
of which do not attract me in the least. The stories are too monotonous and
uninteresting, and the constant tone of mockery and satire, which is not
supported by the fine verse of Boileau, quite disgusted me. However, I have
read it, and am glad it is over. I now know the nature of this book, which
has had a certain reputation.
We had a better journey than yesterday. Our servants have gone to the office
to arrange for to-morrow's journey, which will be complicated by the
Belgian railways. After the mediocrity of Amiens and Arras, where I had
some broth this morning, Lille strikes one as a large if not a great town, but
I must admit that at present my travelling curiosity is benumbed and my
interest remarkably dull.

Liège, May 18, 1840.—We have been fourteen mortal hours on the journey
from Lille to this town, notwithstanding the help of the railway. The fact is
that to make use of the railway it is necessary to make a round of twenty
leagues, which considerably diminishes the advantage of it. From Courtrai
one must go up to Gand, touch Malines, and then to Liège by Louvain and
Tirlemont. A vast amount of time is wasted in stoppages at the numerous
stations. Moreover, if one takes one's own carriage time is required to put it
on a truck and take it off again, while the expense for the freight of
carriages is so heavy that nothing is saved by the railway. It is certainly a
marvellous invention, and the machinery is interesting. All is worked with

perfect punctuality and order, but at the same time it is an unpleasant way of
travelling, to my taste. There is no time to see anything; for instance, we
passed along the outer walls of several towns which I should have liked to
examine; we did not even pass through villages, but went straight across
country, with no other event than occasional tunnels, cold and damp, in
which the smoke of the engine becomes thick enough to choke one. Even
though the wind carries away the smoke, it and the rattling of the engine
would make you imagine yourself upon a steamboat. Imagination was the
easier in my case as sickness and a certain stupefaction never left me. In
short, I arrived worn out and more and more displeased with the fatigues
and weariness of my enterprise. At Menin we were told to get out in a bitter
wind to be searched by the Custom House officials; only when the
examination was half over did they ask for our passports; upon seeing our
rank the Inspector of Customs checked the ardour of his subordinates and
allowed us to go. The fortress of Menin is most carefully kept, and as clean
and well restored as it can be; and yet, if I am not wrong, I think that our
protocols had required its destruction.
I was struck with great admiration for the wealth and the good cultivation of
all Belgium, and if I had been able to satisfy my taste for old buildings by
visiting Ghent, Malines, and other places I should have been consoled.

Bergheim, May 19, 1840.—To travel from Liège to Cologne would have
been too long a day, so we are sleeping here in a very clean little inn,
though we have no means of warming ourselves, in spite of the fact that the
wind is icy. It is something of a hardship to be forced to go without a fire or
to be suffocated by a cast-iron stove. I am undoubtedly a very ungrateful
daughter of Germany, as I find numberless material discomforts which I did
not suspect in past years, but which now cause me considerable
exasperation.
I was greatly struck by the delightful country through which we passed on
the road from Liège to Aix-la-Chapelle by way of Verviers. Chaudfontaine
especially is a charming spot. The direct road would have been through
Battice, but this road is out of use and repair, and we were directed from
Liège to Verviers. The richness and beauty of the countryside, the activity

of the factories, and the river valleys made the scene entirely animated and
agreeable.
I was struck by the changed appearance of Aix-la-Chapelle. Although the
watering season had not yet commenced, the town was as animated as
possible; there are plenty of fine shops and new houses. At the same time I
should not care to take the waters there, as there is nothing countrified
about the place, and the walks are all too distant. To-day I read a large part
of a book by the Président de Brosses, Italy a Hundred Years Ago. It is
written with vigour and cheerfulness, wit and fancy, but the spirit of the
eighteenth century and the writer's peculiar cynicism are obvious at every
page.

Cologne, May 20, 1840.—We have reached here so early that we have
decided to travel another dozen leagues to-day, after seeing Frau von
Binzer, changing our money, and buying some eau de Cologne. How cold it
is here! The change of climate becomes more and more perceptible.

Elberfeld, May 20, 1840.—Frau von Binzer is an extremely ugly person,
but cheerful, sensible, clever, and very loyal. She spent last year with my
sister, the Duchesse de Sagan, and had only left her for six weeks when she
was overtaken by death. She wept bitterly in speaking of my sister, and
assured me that her death was a happy deliverance; that she was so sad, so
wearied, irritated, and disgusted with everything that her temperament had
visibly changed. She seems to have had fits of actual despair, to have
suffered a great deal during the last weeks, and to have had several
presentiments of her death. She made her will on the evening before her last
journey to Italy, in the course of five minutes, while she had some friends in
the house taking tea. She told Frau von Binzer what she was doing, to her
great astonishment. She had intended to make another will, but death came
upon her as a punishment for her dilatoriness. Frau von Binzer was so
grieved at the rapidity of our departure from Cologne that I could not refuse
to take lunch with her. She lives a long way from the hotel where I had put
up, and I therefore had a considerable walk to her house and back. My walk
was prolonged because she insisted upon taking me out of my way to show
me the Stock Exchange, an old and curious house of the Templars, the

Town Hall, with its curious tower and doorway, and the cathedral, which
the Crown Prince of Prussia has taken under his patronage, and which is
being rapidly restored; the results will be admirable. We stopped for a
moment in front of the Church of St. Mary of the Capitol, where Alpaide,
the mother of Charles Martel, is buried. We also looked at two houses
belonging to old aristocratic families in the time of the Hansa, which are in
Byzantine style. At the same time Cologne is a very ugly town, and the
Rhine is by no means beautiful at the spot where we crossed it.
Here we are, twelve leagues from Cologne, in the prettiest town
conceivable, which reminds one of Verviers; the country about it is also
pretty, and somewhat Belgian in character. All is clean and well cared for.
The Prussian roads are truly admirable, the postillions go much better, and
the horses are kept in good condition. In this respect and in many others the
country has undergone a remarkable change. At the same time the iron
stoves, the beds, and the food cause me discomfort. The railway is
progressing, and it is intended to continue the line to Berlin. The work is
being pushed on with great rapidity, and from Liège nothing is to be seen
but navvies, machinery, and other preparations for this transformation
scene.

Mersheden, May 21, 1840.—We reached Arnberg at five o'clock. This
seemed a little early to finish our stage, so we continued our journey for six
leagues more. Now we are in a typical village inn, but fairly clean, and with
very obliging people. We might have found better accommodation at the
next stage, but I could not bring myself to expose the servants any longer to
the frightful weather. I have rarely seen any more dreadful; hail, rain, blasts,
and storms all came down upon us. None the less I noticed that we were
passing through country almost as pretty as that which we saw yesterday. It
reminded me at times of the valley of Baden and of the narrower valley of
Wildbad. I am still reading the Italy of the President de Brosses, which is
amusing, but not entirely attractive. I will copy two passages which seem to
me fairly applicable to our present mode of life: "Generally speaking, the
inconveniences and the causes of impatience during a long journey are so
many that one should avoid the further vexation of economy in small
matters. It is certainly hard to be cheated, but we should satisfy our self-
esteem by telling ourselves that we are cheated willingly and because we

are too lazy to be angry." That is a piece of advice which I am inclined to
practise too often. Here is the other passage which also suits my case: "In
foreign countries we should be on our guard against satisfaction of the sight
and weariness of the heart. There is as much as you please to amuse your
curiosity, but no social resources. You are living only with people who have
no interest in you or you in them, and however kind they are, it is
impossible for either party to go to the trouble of discovering interest in the
other when each knows that they are ready to part and never to meet again."

Cassel, May 22, 1840.—The weather to-day was as bad as yesterday, and
the country not so pretty. Cassel is quite as small a town as Carlsruhe, and
looks even less like a residential city. The suburbs especially are very poor.
I found nothing to admire but a hill covered with magnificent oak-trees,
which took us a long time both to ascend and descend. I feel the cold most
bitterly, and everything here is so late that the lilac is hardly in flower.
On arriving I sent for newspapers, in which I saw an account of the long-
delayed visit of the Hereditary Grand Duke of Russia to Mannheim. Poor
Grand Duchess Stephanie! A year ago such a visit would have been an
event; to-day it is mere empty courtesy, and it must have cost her an effort
to receive it graciously. The only matter of interest to me in the newspaper
was the bad account given, with no attempt at concealment, of the King of
Prussia's health. This slow illness must change all the habits of the royal
family and of Berlin society. I shall certainly not regret the entertainments,
but I shall be sorry to be unable to pay my respects to the King, who was
very kind to me in my youth.

Nordhausen, May 23, 1840.—It did not rain to-day, but it is cold enough for
frost. To-morrow we have forty-one leagues to travel if we are to reach
Wittenberg, a severe task which seems to me impossible. Fortunately we
have done with the roads and the postillions of Hesse, which have remained
faithful to the old Germanic aberrations. In Prussia both the posting system
and the roads are excellent, the villages and their inhabitants look greatly
superior, but for the last twenty-four hours, though the country is not
precisely ugly, it has lost the richness and attractiveness which struck me on
the road from Lille to Arnberg.

Wittenberg, May 24, 1840.—Forty-two leagues in twenty-four hours in a
country where no one knows what going ahead means, is really excellent
progress.
This town is an old acquaintance of my youth. When we used to go from
Berlin to Saxony and from Saxony to Berlin, Wittenberg was always the
second halt, for at that time macadamised roads were unknown. Progress
was made at a walking pace, ploughing through deep sand. To-morrow I
expect to cover twenty-seven leagues in nine or ten hours, which occupied
two days in those earlier times. From Nordhausen to this point the country
is ugly, and the inevitable pine-tree forests have reappeared. The cradle of
my youth was certainly far from beautiful.
My curiosity was aroused by Eisleben and Halle, through which we passed.
The former of these towns was Luther's birthplace. His house is well
preserved, and there is a small museum there of all kinds of things relating
to him and to the Reformation. I only saw the outside of the house, which is
of no special interest, but at the door I bought a small description of
Eisleben and its curiosities, which has made me quite learned.
Halle is very ugly, in spite of a few Gothic exteriors, past which I drove.
Moreover, these university towns have invariably a character of their own,
which is provided by the crowd of wretched students, with their noise and
want of manners, who loaf about the carriages, with long pipes in their
mouths, and seem quite ready to cause a disturbance.

Berlin, May 25, 1840.—The rain has been coming down again all day, and
my re-entry to my native town was made under no agreeable auspices.
Fortunately I had no reason to regret that the countryside was not in
sunshine, for the scenery from Wittenberg here is atrocious. I had forgotten
to some extent my native land, and was surprised to find it so hideous.
However, I must make an exception of the bridge of Potsdam, which is
really pretty. The bank of the Havel is bright and graceful with the wooded
slopes which surround it, covered as they are with pretty country houses.
Even Potsdam, which is only a summer residence, looks more like a capital
town than Cassel, Stuttgart, or Carlsruhe; but half a league further on
everything is as dry and dismal as possible, until the suburbs of Berlin,

which gave me a real surprise on the side from which we reached the town.
This happened to be an English quarter, with iron gateways before the
houses, and a number of gardens between the gateways and the houses,
which are small, but very well kept.
Berlin itself is a handsome town, but thinly populated, while as regards
carriages, cabs are the dominant feature, and sadness is therefore its chief
characteristic. I am staying at the Russicher Hof. Opposite is the Castle; a
pretty bridge and the museum on the left; on the right are the quays. It is a
pleasant aspect, and my room on the first floor is almost too magnificent.
My man of business, Herr von Wolff, told me that the King's condition was
regarded as desperate, and that yesterday he sent for his eldest son, and
entrusted him with the business of government. The scene is said to have
been very touching. The King's illness is intestinal catarrh, which seems
incurable. It is also said that he has had the deplorable privilege of bad
doctors in Berlin, where the doctors are excellent. He can take no food, and
is visibly wasting away; but death is not thought to be imminent. The day
before yesterday he walked as far as his window to see the troops march
past, and those who saw him were horrified by the change in his
appearance.
The whole town is in sadness, and the royal family in despair. The Princess
of Liegnitz is quite as ill as the King, with severe gastritis, and is thought to
be in great danger.
M. Bresson, who has just spent an hour with me, is in despair at the King's
condition. He will see no one except the Princess of Liegnitz, his doctors,
and the Prince of Wittgenstein. He has seen the Crown Prince for a moment,
but none of his other children, and says he feels too weak to see any one
else. A messenger has just been despatched to the Russian Empress, to stop
her progress at Warsaw, where she is to arrive to-morrow. The King would
be in no condition to bear this interview, much less the lamentable scenes
which the Emperor Nicholas would certainly make. The Empress is also
said to be in a very sad way. This approaching death will be a great blow,
which will re-echo near and far.

Berlin, May 26, 1840.—I slept fairly well. My bed is not quite so narrow or
so extraordinary as some that I have found on the journey from Cologne to
Berlin. Unless one is prepared to sleep on nothing but feathers, nothing is to
be found but thin, hard mattresses nailed on to deal boards. The bedclothes
are of a remarkable character, while the sheets look like towels. I had
several of them sewn together, and thus succeeded in covering my bed. As
regards bedrooms, Germany is undoubtedly in a state of savagery, even
more so than with regard to food, which is extraordinary enough at times,
though in Berlin even M. de Valençay admits that it is good. The cleanliness
is perfect, and the furniture tasteful. There are carpets everywhere, and the
iron stoves are replaced by fine porcelain stoves, which give no smell and
heat the room excellently, but it is disappointing to be forced to use them on
the 26th of May. M. Bresson utters terrible groans about the climate.
Is it not strange that I should have felt no emotion whatever upon re-
entering this town where I was born and where I was largely brought up? I
examined it with the same curiosity as I felt towards Cologne and Cassel,
and that was all. I have no feeling of that special patriotism which I have
long felt for Germany. I am a complete stranger both to things and people,
entirely unconnected with the place, speaking the language with some
hesitation; in short, I am not at home, or rather ill at my ease, and ashamed
at being so. I do not think it would be thus if I were to return to London. I
do not think I should then be delighted; I should probably burst into tears;
but at any rate I should feel some emotion, as I feel at Valençay. I am less
afraid of that which stirs my feelings than of that which freezes them.
Everything goes on here so early that one must be ready at dawn. Waking
up is nothing, but getting up is difficult. I am extremely tired, even more
than when travelling, because when once ensconced in my carriage, which
is very soft, I can rest in silence, inaction, and sleep, whereas here things
are very different.
My man of business from Silesia was at my house at nine o'clock. He is
going away this evening to make preparations for my arrival. At eleven
o'clock Herr and Frau von Wolff came in. They told me that the Duke of
Coburg was negotiating to buy the estate of Muskau from Prince Pückler
for his sister, the Grand Duchess Constantine. The garden of Muskau is said
to be the most beautiful in Germany. It is only ten leagues from my house.

M. Bresson came in at midday to tell me that there was some improvement
in the King, that he had been able to take some soup and to walk round his
room. He urged me at the same time not to put off my calls upon the chief
ladies of the Princesses.
Midday is the fashionable hour for calls here, so I started off with M. de
Valençay. First we went to the Countess of Reede at the Castle. She is the
chief lady of the Crown Princess, and was an intimate friend of my mother.
She was not at home, nor was the Baroness of Lestocq, lady-in-waiting to
the Princess William, the King's sister-in-law. We also went to the Countess
of Wincke at the King's palace to call upon the Princess of Liegnitz. She is
an old lady belonging to the palace of the late Queen, of which I retained
some confused idea from my youth. She received us with an old aristocratic
air which pleased me. The Countess of Schweinitz, at the new palace of
Prince William, the King's son, was also at home. Countess Kuhneim, at the
Teutonic Palace, where the Princess Charles of Prussia resides, was out.
Frau von Schweinitz told me that Prince William was to start to-morrow to
meet his sister, the Empress of Russia, and to stop her from coming here.
We also went to see the Werthers, who were delighted to talk of Paris; and
then to the house of Madame de Perponcher, with whom I played a great
deal in my youth. She was not at home.
Berlin is really a very fine town. The streets are wide and laid out in regular
lines, the houses are tall and regular, there are many palaces and fine
buildings, fine squares with trees, gardens and walks, and yet it is gloomy.
There is obviously a lack of wealth to fill the fine setting. The carriages of
private individuals are so much like cabs that I was deceived by the
resemblance for some time. The horses and liveries and everything of the
kind are dreadfully shabby.
Yesterday we dined with M. Bresson, who lives in a beautiful house which
my sister the Duchess of Acerenza occupied in past years. The rooms are
fine and beautifully furnished for Berlin, but spoilt by a horrible portrait of
the French King, whose hand is stretched over a vast charter—quite an
atrocity! The other guests were von Humboldt, Lord William Russell, and
M. de Loyère, who is attached to the French Embassy. Herr von Humboldt
talked in his usual style of all the rivers, all the mountains, all the planets,

and of the whole universe. He did not forget his neighbours, whom he did
not treat with superlative charity. Princess Albert seemed to me to be very
much in his bad books, and also to some extent in those of M. Bresson.
Lord William Russell is always taciturn, as a Russell should be. He says he
is not displeased with his position, and anything that separates him from
Lady Russell always suits his taste. As for M. Bresson, he is obviously
bored, and the nine years he has spent here have completely exhausted his
patience. I think that he greatly fears the approaching death of the King as
likely to affect his position. He complains of the effects of the climate, and
is obviously beating against his bars.
In the middle of this dinner Princess William, the King's daughter-in-law,
asked me to wait upon her at half-past six. I therefore went. She lives in a
charming palace, beautifully arranged; the conservatories are decorated
with marble, the floors are magnificent, and the furniture is beautiful; in
short, the whole is in exquisite taste. The Princess was alone, and received
me most graciously. I stayed a long time.
The general fear of a visit from the Russian Imperial family is very curious.
The royal family is preoccupied with the business of avoiding anything of
the kind, and use a thousand devices for the purpose. They seem to be afraid
of them as of a devastating torrent.
I have just had a call from Madame de Perponcher. Her queenly bearing and
her regular features have survived the passing of her youth. She is a clever
woman, and her conversation is animated.

Berlin, May 27, 1840.—A special luxury in Berlin, to be found in all the
houses belonging to people of importance, are the wide windows, which
light the rooms brilliantly, and give a bright appearance to the houses.
This morning I had a private audience of the Crown Princess, who lives in a
part of the Castle properly so called. Her large private room is handsome
and curious. The Princess is very polite, but a little cold and timid, with
beautiful blue eyes, a dull complexion, strong and by no means attractive
features; she limps a little. The conversation became animated upon the
arrival of the Crown Prince. He showed me great cordiality, and had just

come from the King, who was perceptibly better. This improvement has
revived all their spirits, but there is still a grave reason for anxiety.
I dined with Princess William, the King's daughter-in-law; her husband has
delayed his departure. At dinner there were the Crown Prince and Princess,
and the two Princes of Würtemberg, the sons of Prince Paul; the latter are
starting to-morrow to meet their sister, the Grand Duchess Helena, who is
going to Ems, and then to Italy. The other guests were Prince George of
Hesse, brother of the Duchess of Cambridge; a Russian general and an
English officer who had come to look at the manœuvres; Werther, his wife,
and his son, who is going to Paris to take the place of Arnim till the new
appointment is made; and the Count and Countess of Redern. The Countess
is a Hamburg heiress, entirely ugly; she looks like a blonde Jewess, which
is to be ugly twice over.
I sat near the Crown Prince, who asked me many questions about Versailles,
and was then interested in all the recollections of our youth; he has grown
very stout and old.
At seven o'clock in the evening I was requested to visit Princess Albert, and
invited to stay for tea and supper. It is impossible to imagine anything
which takes up so much time as Court life here. The only satisfactory point
is that everyone withdraws before ten o'clock at night; but at that time one
is more exhausted than one would be at two o'clock in the morning at Paris.
I think that of all the persons I have seen here Princess Albert has filled me
with the greatest curiosity and interest. At first I thought her face long and
narrow, her mouth large, and the lower part of her face, when she laughed,
very ugly, while the want of eyebrows was remarkable; but by degrees I
have grown used to her, and find her actually pleasant. Her teeth are white,
she has a cheerful laugh and lively eyes, her figure is pretty, and she is tall,
like myself; but it is too obvious that she laces very tightly, which is the
more noticeable as she is never at rest; she wriggles, gesticulates, laughs,
fidgets, and talks somewhat at random; she never crosses a room except at a
run and a skip, and does not shine in point of dignity of bearing, but on the
whole she is by no means unpleasant, and I think that men might find her
somewhat attractive. She was very kind to me, with a frankness and good-
nature in putting her questions as if she had always known me, and poking

fun right and left at her family to begin with; she astonished me greatly. The
fact is that she is a spoilt child, accustomed to do and say anything she
likes, and is regarded here as quite beyond restraint. She goes away to The
Hague when her family would like her to stay in Berlin, and comes back
when they think she intends to make a long stay in Holland. In short, she is
a strange being. Her husband is very delicate. Their palace, though pretty
outside, seemed to me rather poor within. At her house I saw no one except
the Princess of Würtemberg, Madame de Perponcher (reasons of etiquette
forbid her to receive M. de Perponcher, as the Diplomatic Body are
excluded from royal residences), Herr von Liebermann, Prussian Minister at
St. Petersburg, and the Prince and Princess William, the King's son, who
arrived late.
I cannot be anything but grateful for the reception that has been offered to
me here, but the want of rest overpowers every other consideration, and I
should like to be back in my dear Rochecotte.

Berlin, May 28, 1840.—This morning I had an audience of Princess
Charles. She has charming features, a fine figure, a high colour, tired eyes,
beautiful manners, and a kind and pleasant way of speaking. Her
appearance, on the whole, is insignificant, but she shows much kindness of
heart. Her husband is simply vulgar. At the present moment he has a mania
for seeing operations, and watches all the new experiments in surgery.
Berlin is just now much excited by a mode of curing squinting, practised by
Dieffenbach. Out of two hundred cases he has had only one failure, and that
was due to the impatience of the patient. It is a very clever idea, and people
come in from all parts to be made beautiful instead of ugly.
Here every one professes surprise at the resemblance between Madame de
Lazareff and myself.
I have called upon Princess Pückler, the wife of the traveller; she is a lady
who is largely supported by the Court; but she was not at home. In the
afternoon I called upon Princess William, the Queen's sister-in-law, who
was extremely kind to me. She has been very beautiful, and some remnants
of her beauty still remain. She is a leading member of the sect of the

Pietists. She introduced me to her unmarried daughter, a pretty princess of
fifteen years of age, whose face pleased me greatly. [102]
Princess William is the sister of the Dowager Grand Duchess of
Mecklenburg, step-mother to the Duchesse d'Orléans.
I am going to the theatre to see a ballet, in the box of the Countess of
Redern, who insisted upon my coming. Then I shall finish my day with the
Werthers, who are giving a party for me. I am quite overwhelmed by my
busy life, which is so utterly different from the idle existence I have led for
the last two years.

Berlin, May 29, 1840.—The ballet here is very well done. The King takes
great interest in it, and gives an annual subscription of a hundred and
twenty thousand crowns to the Opera, which is a great deal for this country.
There are many pretty dancers, the theatre is beautiful and the orchestra
excellent. I have been unable to judge of the singers, as I did not go till the
opera was over.
At the Werthers' I found a rout going on, which was much like all other
parties of the kind. The women were well dressed, but not pretty, the social
intercourse somewhat cold, while the men in the service wore their
uniforms, which gave them a stiff appearance.
The King's condition gave less satisfaction yesterday; he had had a fainting
fit after expressing a wish to eat herrings, which was speedily satisfied.
However, the Princes went to the theatre. The doctors persist in saying that
his state is not desperate. This is the opinion, among others, of a certain Dr.
Schönlein, who has been appointed professor at the university here; he
comes from Zürich with a very great reputation, and the King has been
induced to see him in consultation. Princess Frederick of the Low Countries
is expected. She is her father's favourite, and he is as anxious to see her as
he is afraid of the Russian visits. Princess William, the King's sister-in-law,
whose eldest daughter is married to Darmstadt, told me that the Hereditary
Grand Duke of Russia is deeply in love with Princess Marie, his future
bride, and she is beginning to feel the same towards him.

I was to have dined to-day with the Crown Prince, but as the King had had
another fainting fit the High Marshal came to tell me that the dinner would
not take place. The King's precarious condition causes much anxiety to
some people who are fond of him, and to others who respect him for
political considerations. No one, not even the heir, was prepared for this
crisis, and to their sadness is added perplexity and hesitation.
Yesterday morning I went for a drive in the Tiergarten, the Bois de
Boulogne of Berlin, and saw the spot where I had been daily taken for a
walk in my youth. It is a very pretty wood on the edge of the town, well
planted, partly in English style, bounded by the Spree, and full of pretty
country houses. It is a very popular resort at Berlin.
I dined with Lord William Russell, where I heard that there was some small
excitement in the Ministry at London, though nothing was likely to come of
it. The present Cabinet is as used to defeats as Mithridates to poison.
This morning Herr von Humboldt came to fetch us, and took his niece, Frau
von Bülow, and myself to the Museum. He had told all the directors,
professors, and artists to be ready. I therefore saw everything in the greatest
detail. The building is fine and well arranged, the classification perfect and
intelligent, and the light well managed. The King has acquired some
excellent examples of every style of art; an ancient bust of Julius Cæsar in
greenish basalt is one of the most beautiful things I know. The Museum is
very rich in pictures of the ancient German school; the Etruscan vases are
quite first-rate; the fifteenth-century china is very curious; the intaglios and
the medals are in perfect order and tastefully set out. The officials, who are
clever and full of artistic erudition, did me the honours with great courtesy.
I replied by asking many questions, and was attentive to the answers; but
the visit lasted for three hours, and I was standing all the time, and
eventually I nearly collapsed.
I then went to a great dinner with M. Bresson. As I was starting for it the
Prince of Wittgenstein arrived; he had been requested by the King and the
Princess of Liegnitz to express to me in the kindest terms their regret at
their inability to see me. The King was not quite so ill, and had been able to
see Princess Frederick of the Low Countries, his favourite daughter, for
whom he had telegraphed, and who had hastened to come to him. The

Prince of Wittgenstein was most obliging; he is a stout personage, and is
greatly downcast at the moment and heart-broken at the King's danger. He
has a very kindly feeling for France, and is very friendly with Princess
William, the king's daughter-in-law, who overwhelms me with kindness.
At M. Bresson's dinner Herr von Humboldt, as usual, relieved every one
else of the trouble of talking, which is very convenient for lazy persons like
myself.

Berlin, May 31, 1840.—To-day is an important day in the history of the
country, and one of which the King awaits the issue with impatience. The
Great Elector ascended the throne on May 31, 1640, Frederick the Great on
May 31, 1740, and I am assured of the existence of a prophecy that the
Crown Prince will ascend the throne on May 31, 1840.
I went to mass in a church which is hardly a church: it is a great round hall,
covered with a single cupola, surrounded with columns, with a large
window between each column. Nothing could be less solemn and less
Catholic.
I dined with Prince Radziwill, who took me up after dinner to the rooms of
his late mother, where I had been a great deal in my youth. They are no
longer used, and are just as I had known them. Nobody could be kinder than
all the Radziwills have been to me. The daughter of the late Princess
married the nephew of Prince Adam Czartoryski. She is now in the country.
The two Radziwill Princes married two sisters, the daughters of Prince
Clary. They all had plenty of children, and live as a very happy family in
the same house.
I had gone home after the dinner, when I received a message from Princess
William, the King's daughter-in-law, asking me to pay her a visit. I found
her alone, and she kept me talking for an hour. The latest news of the King
was very sad. He told his chief groom of the chamber that he had no hope
of recovery, but would not speak of his death for fear of affecting those
about him. He is said to have insisted upon being carried to-morrow to the
window of his room, at the moment of the solemn function which has been
largely advertised, and the preparations for which he has supervised from
his bed. The Crown Prince, in the King's name, is to lay the first stone of a

monument in honour of Frederick II. at the entry of the promenade Unter
den Linden. The whole garrison, all the state bodies, and all Berlin, are to
be present at this ceremony. Stands have been erected for the public. My
son and myself are to find a place on the balcony of Princess William,
where the Princesses will be.
Yesterday evening at the house of the Prince of Wittgenstein, where I went,
was Madame de Krüdener, née Lerchenfeld, natural daughter of the Count
Lerchenfeld and of the Princess of Thurn and Taxis. At St. Petersburg she
was at first a favourite of the Empress, but was afterwards somewhat
discarded because the Emperor appeared to be taken with her. She strongly
resembles the late Queen of Prussia, which may be explained by her birth,
but she has not her majestic bearing; she is, however, a handsome woman.
I hear from Paris that there is an attempt to gather the household of the
Emperor Napoleon for a mission to fetch his remains from St. Helena.
Marchand, his groom of the chamber, was asked if he wished to accompany
the mission; at first he hesitated, and then accepted on the condition that he
should be allowed to sit at the table of the Prince de Joinville; to satisfy him
he has been appointed captain on the staff of the National Guard, and he is
to go, and will sit at the Prince's table! I abstain from comment.

Berlin, June 1, 1840.—I have just returned from the ceremony, which was
really most beautiful and imposing. The thought of the King's dangerous
condition, which every one had at heart, gave a singularly touching and
solemn aspect to this national celebration, the last at which the poor King
could be present. And in what manner was he present? In bed at his
window! Fortunately the weather was less disagreeable than it has lately
been. The Crown Prince laid the first stone of the monument which is to
support the equestrian statue of Frederick the Great. Is it not strange that
there is no statue of him as yet in Berlin? Yesterday was the anniversary of
his accession a hundred years ago; but as it was a Sunday the celebration
was postponed till to-day. Each regiment in the army was represented by a
detachment. The army is really superb, and splendidly equipped. Besides
the state bodies, the authorities, the Consistory, a detachment of the
Landwehr, deputations from the guilds of arts and crafts, with their bands,
surrounded the square, which is magnificent and was most beautifully

decorated. Around the monument could be seen all those who had served
under Frederick II., dressed as they were at that time, and carrying the flags
captured during the Seven Years' War. The King himself had considered
every detail of this fine ceremony, and had given the most positive orders to
forbid any manifestation of applause for himself; but the silent and
profound respect, the perfect order and the sadness of the spectators was
sufficiently striking and touching. When the foundation-stone was lowered,
salvos were fired, bells rang, drums beat, and the old tattered flags were
lowered; at that moment most of the spectators burst into tears. Nothing of
the sort could be looked for in a republican atmosphere or in our
revolutionary regions.
On the balcony where I was placed I saw Prince Frederick of the Low
Countries, who introduced me to his wife. She was overcome with grief;
she is not pretty, but looks kind and natural. The young Hereditary Grand
Duke of Russia, who arrived this morning, was present; the Crown Prince
of Prussia introduced me to him. He is said to have grown very fat. I
expected to see a very insignificant young man, but he is quite the contrary,
although I do not care about his complexion.

Berlin, June 2, 1840.—Yesterday evening I went to tea with Madame de
Perponcher, whose salon is, in my opinion, the pleasantest in Berlin. She is
very conversational and well-mannered, while she is simple and restrained.
She is a central point of society, and her mother's position with the Crown
Princess has helped her largely. There I heard that no change has taken
place in the King's condition, though something of the kind had been feared
owing to the excitement of the day.
The suite of the Hereditary Grand Duke of Russia are staying at the same
hotel as myself, at the King's expense. They make a fearful uproar, and
consume the more food as their board costs them nothing. It is impossible
to say how the Russians are detested here.

Berlin, June 3, 1840.—Yesterday I was at a great dinner given by the
Werthers. The King was said to be better; he had had some sleep, and felt
the moral relief of passing the fatal date. During the dinner I received a

message from the young Princess William asking me to call upon her after
dinner in outdoor dress. I went, and we drove out. She took me to
Charlottenburg, which she showed me in full detail, and especially the
country house which the King has had built there, where he prefers to stay.
I was glad to see the portraits of the Duc d'Orléans and the Duc de Nemours
which were drawn here at the time when they passed through Berlin. The
King bought them for his private room. When we came back the Princess
made me stay to tea, and I spent all the time alone with her.
This morning when I was finishing breakfast M. Bresson came to tell us
that the King was in extremis. In the afternoon I stopped before his palace;
he was still alive, and had even recovered sufficient consciousness to
demand the reading of the newspapers. There is a crowd about the palace;
many people are in tears, and the behaviour of the population is perfect.

Berlin, June 4, 1840.—Yesterday I dined at the house of M. Bresson with
Princess Pückler, who is starting for Muskau to meet her husband. He is
returning from Vienna after an absence of six years; she speaks of him with
admiration. She is a little old woman of wit, intelligence, and tact, and has
gained considerable reputation in different circles.
Only yesterday was the publication begun of bulletins upon the King's
health; he might be dead at the present moment. Hitherto he had forbidden
any announcements; I do not think he knew anything of it yesterday. He has
preserved his consciousness, and is quite calm, simple, and dignified.

Since last night the King has been in a kind of agony, from which he
sometimes gains relief by a few drops of coffee. He can still speak a little,
and says not a word about his condition, though he realises its gravity to the
full. The whole family, even the grandchildren, are at the palace, and the
Ministers also. The crowd still throngs the square and shows the same
interest.

Berlin, June 5, 1840.—The King was still alive yesterday at eight o'clock in
the evening. He had said farewell to his children and solemnly handed his
will to his Ministers; he then declared that he had done with this world and
wished to see no one except the Princess of Liegnitz and the pastor for
whom he sent, intending to devote his remaining time to securing his peace
of mind and in considering the life to come.

Berlin, June 6, 1840.—Herr von Humboldt has just left me. The King was
very feverish last night; he can hardly speak, and seems to have lost all
interest. What a long struggle for a man of seventy! All the Mecklenburg
family has arrived. The appearance of the Duke of Cumberland has caused
some consternation, and the Emperor Nicholas will be here to-morrow in
spite of every attempt to prevent his arrival. There is an obvious intention to
surround the new Sovereign from the moment of his accession, and this
may damage his public reputation, for the people are apprehensive, and do
not hide their fears. It is an interesting time for spectators, and I am perhaps
watching the sowing of seed which will produce great consequences.
At the same time I wished to fulfil my promise of going to see Frau von
Bülow at Tegel, which is three leagues from Berlin. At first I found the
wind very unpleasant, but when we entered a forest which began half-way I
was pleasantly sheltered, and the scent of the pine-trees was delightful. On
leaving the pine-trees we reached a superb lake, the shores of which were
wooded with trees in leaf—an unusual sight here.
At one end of the lake is the fortress of Spandau, at the other the park, the
castle of Tegel, and the monument raised by the late Herr Wilhelm von
Humboldt to his wife. It is very pretty. The castle is by no means
extraordinary, but contains some fine artistic works brought from Italy, and
a good portrait of Alexander von Humboldt by Gérard. The monument is a
column of porphyry upon a granite base, and the capital is in white marble.
The column supports a white marble statue of Hope by Thorwaldsen, and is
surrounded half by an iron railing and half by a great stone bench. All is in
excellent taste, and the only point which displeased me was that Frau von
Humboldt, her husband, her eldest son, and one of the children of Frau von
Bülow are really buried at the foot of this column. I cannot bear graves in
gardens; my belief requires a common cemetery or vault in a church or

chapel—in short, a spot consecrated to prayer and reflection, and
undisturbed by worldly tumult.
I drove round the lake, and then took the road back to Berlin. At the gates of
the town I met Lord William Russell, who told me that the King was at his
last gasp, and that orders had been given to close the theatres. My son,
whom I found at our hotel on the point of coming in, gave me the same
news. He had just been watching the operation for curing squinting, and
was full of admiration for Dieffenbach, his dexterity, and the result of the
operation. Of the two patients, both young girls, one did not say a word, and
the other cried a great deal. The mere demonstration would have made me
want to scream. The whole operation lasts from seventy to eighty seconds.
The operator is helped by three pupils; one raises the upper eyelid, the
second depresses the lower lid, and the third wipes away the blood between
the two incisions. The first incision divides the lower part of the white of
the eye; then with a little hook Dieffenbach draws forward the muscle
covered by that part, cuts it through, and the operation is over. This muscle,
in the case of people who squint, is too short, and brings the eye too close to
the nose. As soon as it is cut through the pupil goes to its proper place.

Berlin, June 7, 1840.—Yesterday evening the King had reached the end, the
death-rattle set in, and there was that motion of the hands, mechanical but
terribly symptomatic, which common people call "picking things up to
pack." He was unable to speak, and seemed to have lost consciousness.
I am extremely guarded here in discussing either politics or religion; I hear
a great deal, and listen with interest to anything I am told about the state of
this country, but I am not imprudent in my answers. Prudence here is easier
than in France, where it is almost impossible not to be overcome by the
contagion.
I have just been told that the Emperor Nicholas has arrived; I do not think
he will see the King, from whose room all are excluded, though he is still
alive.

Berlin, June 8, 1840.—The King died yesterday at twenty-two minutes past
three in the afternoon, surrounded by all his family, whose hands he clasped

without speaking. He died in the arms of the Princess of Liegnitz, for whom
the royal family and the public are showing the greatest respect. She has
perfectly fulfilled her duty. The Prince Royal fell fainting at the moment
when the King expired. Grief is general and widespread. The Emperor
Nicholas is said to have lamented loudly; he arrived from Warsaw in thirty-
seven hours, accompanied only by General Benkendorff.
Yesterday evening the troops took the oath to the new Sovereign. The
Government has issued a proclamation everywhere of the death, which is
touching, simple, and perfectly correct.
I have been to Frau von Schweinitz to hear news of Princess William, who
takes the title of Princess of Prussia, as her husband is heir-presumptive,
though he is not Crown Prince, since he is the brother, not the eldest son, of
the new King. The will had been opened. The late King has ordered a
military funeral; his body will be placed in the cathedral by day, and, in
accordance with his wishes, taken to Charlottenburg by night, to be placed
in the same vault with the late Queen, his wife. I have just visited this
monument in the park of Charlottenburg, yesterday afternoon. It is enclosed
in a temple in ancient style at the end of a long walk of pines and cypress-
trees; within the temple, between two candelabras beautifully carved in
white marble, is to be seen, upon a raised platform, a bed of white marble,
upon which the Queen's statue is gracefully and simply recumbent, wrapped
in a long robe with open sleeves. The bare arms are crossed over the breast,
the neck is bare, and the head wears only the royal circlet. It is a
masterpiece, especially for the drapery, which is remarkably true to nature,
and the best work of Rauch, the Prussian sculptor, whom the late Queen had
educated at Rome. The general effect is beautiful, but too mythological; the
religious touch which death imperiously claims is wanting.
The King will lie in state to-morrow and the day after in military dress. The
body will not be embalmed, and will be interred on Thursday, in accordance
with his orders. He also ordered the pastor to pray at his bedside
immediately after his death and aloud in the middle of his family, exhorting
them to peace and concord. This was done, and it is to be hoped that his
prayer will be heard, though there is no immediate appearance that any one
heeds it. The immediate withdrawal of the Prince of Wittgenstein and of
Herr von Lottum was expected, but the new King begged them not to leave

him, at any rate at first. The public is glad to see the father's old servants
thus retained by the son, and the more so as their relations with the Prince
Royal were not entirely agreeable and an earlier change was expected. It is
to be hoped that there will be no change at all. Such is the summary of a
conversation on my part with M. Bresson and Lord William Russell; after
which I went to see the collection of pictures belonging to Count
Raczynski, the best private collection in Berlin. A large cartoon by a pupil
of Cornelius of Munich, representing one of the great battles of Attila, is the
best thing there. Tradition relates that the battle was continued in the sky,
and that those who perished go on fighting, like shadows in the clouds, at
certain times of the year; the two battles are to be seen in the cartoon. The
design is admirable and well executed. The rest of the collection did not
greatly attract me.
Madame de Lieven writes from Paris: "We have had a curious week here:
the Ministry was defeated in the Chamber upon the law for the funeral of
Napoleon, and attempted revenge by sowing discord between the Chamber
and the country; after more mature reflection, and after the proposed
subscription had been a partial failure, the matter was dropped, and the
letter of Odillon Barrot concluded it.
"The Duc d'Orléans, in Africa, has had a fresh attack of dysentery, which
was very dangerous for twenty-four hours."
Now an extract from a letter from the Duc de Noailles: "Notwithstanding
the complete fiasco concerning the Imperial remains, Thiers retains his
strength, and will become complete master. The proposal of Remilly, [103]
which was in sight, will not come up for discussion this year. There will be
no dissolution between the two sessions; after next session dissolution is
certain; the new Chamber will be moderately, but certainly more Left.
Thiers is determined neither to urge on nor to check progress in this
direction; to guide the movement, but to follow it, as he thinks that strength
and the majority are there to be found. He hopes to be able to restrain the
Left, but in case of failure he has determined rather to obey it than to resign.
So we are definitely embarked upon this path, and this is the great event of
the winter; the consequences, but not the rapidity, of the movement can be
calculated."

Berlin, June 9, 1840.—Yesterday after dinner I called upon the Countess of
Reede, the chief lady of the new Queen's Court. There I saw the reigning
Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, brother of the late Queen and of the
late Princess of Thurn and Taxis, a great friend of M. de Talleyrand. He
spoke of my uncle in the warmest terms, which touched me deeply, saying
that he had experienced much kindness from him under the Empire. I was
there informed that, besides the King's will properly so called, which dates
from 1827, and of which I know nothing, there is a codicil containing
arrangements for the funeral, and in such detail that the position of the
troops in the streets is pointed out. A letter to his successor has also been
found, which is said to be full of the wisest counsel; while encouraging his
son to avoid innovations of every kind without due consideration, the King
also advises him to avoid any retrogressive step out of harmony with the
spirit of the age. It is said that this letter will be published.
When I returned home Herr von Humboldt came to see me, and kept me up
while he told me many stories which were doubtless curious, and would
have interested me were it not for his overpoweringly monotonous manner.
In any case, he is very well informed of all that goes on here, and clever at
ferreting out new information.
The Russian and the other Courts are starting on Wednesday, the day after
the King's funeral. I think that the King and Queen will be glad to breathe a
little freely.

Berlin, June 10, 1840.—Yesterday the director of the Museum came to
fetch me, and took me, with my son, to the studio of Rauch, a very clever
sculptor and a very pleasant man. He showed us several statues intended for
the Walhalla of Bavaria; the model of the statue of Frederick II., the first
stone of which I had seen laid; and a Danae for St. Petersburg; then a little
statue, half natural size, of a young girl fully dressed and holding a little
lamb in her arms, which was very pretty, and I liked it greatly. Before we
went home I was taken to see the Egyptian Museum, which is in a building
apart. Although the collection is said to be admirable, I could feel no
pleasure in looking at the hideous colossi and the numerous mummies.

When I returned home I had a call from Prince Radziwill, who came from
the Castle, where, with the chief officers of the garrison, he had been
passing in parade before the lying-in-state of the late King. The King was
laid out with his face uncovered, wrapped in his military cloak, with his
little cap on his head, as he had ordered in his codicil.
The King has bequeathed a hundred thousand Prussian crowns, or three
hundred and fifty-five thousand francs, to the town of Berlin, and other
sums to Königsberg, Breslau, and Potsdam, as being the four towns of his
kingdom in which he has resided. He has bequeathed the little palace in
which he lived as Crown Prince, which he would not leave as King, and in
which he died, to his grandson, the son of Prince William, who will
probably be King one day. The Princess of Leignitz retains the palace by the
side of it, in which she was living, the domain of Erdmansdorff, in Silesia,
and an income of forty thousand crowns, to be paid by the State. It seems
that the King had left from fourteen to twenty million crowns in his private
chest. He has ordered that each soldier present at his funeral shall receive a
crown, and each non-commissioned officer two crowns. He has also
ordered that his body shall be followed, not only by all the clergy of Berlin,
but by all those of the neighbourhood; they are coming in from Stettin,
Magdeburg, and every part of the kingdom.
M. Bresson was much depressed by the King's death, but has recovered his
spirits on seeing that the Prince of Wittgenstein is to be retained at Court, at
any rate for the moment. The new King is treating his father's old servant
most admirably.
A strange incident which has caused much displeasure was the sight of the
Russian officers in the suite of the Emperor Nicholas on duty before the
body of the late King together with the Prussian officers. The Emperor
issued the request, and the authorities did not venture to refuse, but some
ill-feeling has been shown, and the very scanty liking for Russia has been
further diminished.

Berlin, June 11, 1840.—I spent the whole of yesterday paying farewell
calls, and when I was calling upon Frau von Schweinitz, the Princess of

Prussia sent for me. With her I found the Prince of Prussia, and both were
very kind to me.
The King informed me through the Countess of Reede that he hoped to see
me later, on my return, at Sans Souci. He has ordered the Chief Marshal to
find me a good place for this morning's ceremony. The Emperor of Russia is
starting this evening for Weimar and Frankfort, where he wishes to see his
future daughter-in-law.
This morning I went to the ceremony, and just as I was starting out the King
sent word telling me to go through the Castle, and the Princess of Prussia
sent me her liveried servants to secure me a place. I thus reached the church
by way of the royal apartments. I was in a stand opposite the Princess of
Leignitz, who was well enough to be present at the ceremony; she was
heavily veiled, like all the ladies, and I could not distinguish her features.
The church was not draped, which gave it too bright an appearance, and the
sombre nature of the ceremony suffered in consequence. The organ, the
singing, and the sermon by the pastor, the great emotion of the old servants
and children of the deceased, the terrible salvos of cannon, and the beautiful
tolling of all the bells were imposing. Before withdrawing the new King
offered a prayer of considerable length in a low voice on his knees by the
coffin. The whole family followed his example, after which the King
embraced all his brothers, his wife, his sisters, nephews, and uncles—in
short, the whole of his family. The Emperor of Russia, who has a fine but
terrible face, did the same. There was thus a great deal of embracing for a
church. My own opinion is that in the house of God one should be occupied
only with worship; but between a Protestant temple and the Church the
difference is considerable.
The King of Hanover, who arrived an hour before the ceremony, was
present. He is old, and though he looks somewhat uncivilised he appeared
to me like an old lamb by the side of a young tiger when I compared him
with the Emperor of Russia.
I propose to start to-morrow for Silesia.

Crossen, June 12, 1840.—I left Berlin this morning at half-past seven in
mild and cloudy weather. Thanks to the excellent roads, the good horses,

and the capital post service, we accomplished thirty-six leagues in thirteen
hours and a half, which is satisfactory travelling in any country. As far as
Frankfort-on-the-Oder, which we crossed in the middle of the day, the
country is chiefly remarkable for its dismal and barren character. When the
valley of the Oder is reached the country becomes less flat and more
smiling. Frankfort is a large town of thirty-two thousand souls, for whom
excitement is provided by three large fairs during the year; but apart from
those times it is very empty. There is nothing attractive about the town.
Crossen, where I am at this moment, which is also on the Oder, is not so
large a town, but more pleasantly situated. I am now only a few hours from
my own property, and shall arrive there in good time to-morrow.

Günthersdorf, June 13, 1840.—I am now upon my own estates. It is a
strange impression to find a home of one's own at so vast a distance from
the spot where one's life is usually passed, and also to find this home as
clean and well ordered, though all is quite simple, as if one always lived
there.
This morning when I started from Crossen it was raining, and the rain
continued as far as Grünberg, a large fortress, where I found Herr and Frau
von Wurmb, who had come to meet me. Frau von Wurmb is the daughter of
a state councillor in the Prussian service, Herr von Göcking, to whom the
late King had entrusted me during my period of wardship. She married a
Westphalian gentleman, Herr von Wurmb, who had formerly served in the
Prussian armies, until his delicate health obliged him to resign. For many
years he has lived in Wartenberg, a little town which belongs to me. There,
at first under the direction of Hennenberg, and since his death alone, he has
supervised my estates, forests, &c. Frau von Wurmb, as my guardian's
daughter, was a constant companion of my youth. She was very well
brought up. People of good society in Germany do not object to conducting
the business of those whom they regard as great lords; for instance, the
cousin of Baron Gersdorff, the Saxon Minister at London, manages my
sisters' money.
Herr and Frau von Wurmb preceded me here. The last few leagues traverse
sand and pine forests, but at the entrance to a small hamlet, which does not
deserve the name of village, is a pleasant avenue which leads to a planted

court, in the middle of which is a large house; fine trees hide the
outbuildings, which are not an agreeable sight. At the back of the house is a
pleasant view: a garden very well planted and kept up, full of flowers, many
of them rare; the garden is cleverly joined to a field, at the end of which is a
very pretty wood. A streams runs through the garden and keeps it fresh. The
house is of double depth: it is a long rectangle, with thirteen windows in
front; it is spoilt by its enormous roof, a necessary protection against the
long-lasting snow in winter, and also by the yellow orange colour with
which the bricks have been painted. The interior is not bad. In the middle is
a vaulted hall, with a staircase in the background; to the right of the hall, is
a large room with three windows, and further on a little library with two
windows opening upon a very pretty greenhouse, which is connected with
the orangery; there I have fifty orange-trees of moderate size. On the left of
the hall is my bedroom, a large dressing-room, wardrobes, bathroom, and
the maid's room. These rooms are doubled in the following way: behind the
library is a room containing the rooms opening from the dining-room;
behind the drawing-room is the dining-room; while behind my own room
and the adjoining ones are the servants' rooms, a bedroom, and a large
dressing-room. On the first floor are four gentlemen's rooms, with
cupboards, of which only two are furnished, and a large billiard-room. In
the attics are six servants' rooms, a store-room, and a lumber-room. The
living rooms and my own look southwards, and so do not get the view of
the garden; but I prefer to have the sun, even if I must look upon the
courtyard, especially in a house which has no cellar; there is, however, no
trace of dampness. The ground floor is very prettily furnished, and the
floors are inlaid with all kinds of wood, and are surprisingly pretty
considering that they were done here. On the first floor there is only the
room now occupied by M. de Valençay, which is furnished, and that
somewhat scantily. In fact, the house contains only what is absolutely
necessary, and I am glad that I brought some plate; Herr von Wurmb is
lending me many things. However, we shall do, and I feel better here than I
have done for a long time, because here I have at least silence and rest
about me. This is the heart of the country; I do not regret it, and feel a
certain pleasure in the noise of the cows and the bustle of haymaking,
which shows me once again that I am really of a very countrified nature.

There is a fairly good little portrait of my mother in the drawing-room, and
a very bad one of myself, while in a smaller room are lithographs of the
Prussian royal family. The library is somewhat restricted, but contains five
hundred excellent books in English, French, and German. I have already
been round the garden, which is quite pretty. The gardener comes from the
King's gardens in Charlottenburg, and has been to Munich and Vienna to
perfect himself.

Günthersdorf, June 14, 1840.—This morning at eight o'clock, in spite of the
cold and bitter wind, which seem to be characteristic of Prussia, I started in
the carriage to drive four leagues for mass and high mass too. Wartenberg is
two-thirds Catholic, while Günthersdorf is entirely Protestant. The Catholic
church is at the entrance to Wartenberg, a town over which I have some
seigneurial rights; each house pays me a small tax. The road runs through
my woods for two leagues until we reach the high-road. The church was
full, the priest at the entrance with the holy water and a beautiful address,
while my seat was strewn with country flowers. There was nothing wanting:
a procession, the blessing of the Sacrament, the sermon, prayers for the
royal family and for myself, and a beautiful organ accompaniment, while
the children of the Catholic school sang very well. I think the whole
ceremony lasted nearly three hours. Frau von Wurmb, who lives in one of
my houses a short distance from the town, with a pretty garden round it,
was expecting me to lunch. There was no one present except her own
family, which is numerous.
After lunch Herr von Wurmb asked me to see all the servants of my estates,
who had come together from various points to pay their respects. Then
began a long march past. They form a regular staff, all nominated by myself
and paid from my purse. Such is the custom here upon large estates: an
architect, a doctor, two bailiffs, two collectors, an agent, a treasurer, and a
head keeper, four Catholic priests and three Protestant pastors, and the
mayor of the town; all true gentlemen and very well educated, speaking and
introducing themselves perfectly. I did my best to please every one, and
made a complete conquest of the priest of Wartenberg, to whom I promised
some embroidery of my own making for his church. When I went away
Herr von Wurmb went with me for part of the road to a very pretty
enclosure: an acre or two of forest surrounded with palings, divided by

walks, with a little piece of water, a good gamekeeper's house, where the
pheasants are brought up most carefully. We saw the sitting hens and the
little pheasants in coops, and also the full-grown birds, which were near the
water or flying in the trees. Nearly six hundred are sold each year. Roe deer
and hares also abound.
It was five o'clock when I got back. After dinner I went to sleep with
weariness, for the day had been long, and the cold increased the drowsiness
produced by the open air.
I am here without newspapers or letters, which I do not miss, and wait
patiently until the post is pleased to make its way to this remote corner of
the world. I have already told myself that this country would form a very
pleasant retreat from the shocks by which Western Europe is always more
or less threatened, and in times of revolution one would not mind the
severity of the climate.

Günthersdorf, June 15, 1840.—Loving a country life as I do, I have every
possibility of satisfying my desire here, for as I wish to see everything in a
short time I have not a moment to lose; so to-day I started at nine o'clock in
the morning and returned to Wartenberg, to the old Jesuit convent called the
Castle. It is a considerable building, with cloisters; the cells of the monks
have been transformed into pretty rooms, which are now inhabited by the
treasurer, the bailiff, one of the chief stewards, the doctor, the Protestant
pastor and the Protestant school, while there is a very pretty Catholic
chapel, with fresco paintings and an image of miraculous power which
attracts a large number of pilgrims on the 2nd of July every year. There is a
collection of fine ornaments and sacred vessels of some value. A little
glazed cupboard contains the coins and medals offered ex voto; from my
chain I took off the little silver medal with the effigy of M. de Quélen, and
placed it with the other offerings.
This visit was lengthy, and I concluded it by unearthing from a dusty spot
the portraits of the old landowners who had left this property to the Jesuits
by will. After giving orders for the restoration of the portraits I went to see
the brewery, the distillery, and the stockyards, where cattle are bred for sale
at Berlin. All this is on a very large scale. I have even a winepress, for my

vintage is a good one, and also a large plantation of mulberry trees; the
silkworms are bred, the silk wound off and sent to Berlin, where it is
woven.
After all this inspection we went to see two farms at Wartenberg; then a
very agreeable road between beautiful plantations, all made since my reign
began, which extend for two leagues, brought us to the summit of a wooded
hill, from the top of which there is a splendid view over the Oder—an
unusual thing in this part of Silesia. On the road my son Louis was able to
get a shot at some roebuck. I returned here at six o'clock in the evening.
Fortunately the weather was respectable.
I have just opened an old writing-desk, in which I have found papers of my
youth—letters from the Abbé Piatoli and many affecting things of the kind,
such as the wedding present given me by the Prince Primate; this is a bird in
a golden cage which sings and flaps its wings. Then there are engravings
and pieces of embroidery. They have recalled so many shadows of the past.
There is something remarkably solemn in this past thus suddenly revived
with such intense verisimilitude.

Günthersdorf, June 17, 1840.—I set out at ten o'clock in the morning, and
returned at eight in the evening. First I visited two farms which belong to
the seigniory of Wartenberg, in the second of which I had lunch. I also
visited the church, for in this country both the churches and their
incumbents are dependent upon the overlord.
After lunch we crossed the Oder by a ferry, and went as far as Carolath,
which is well worth seeing. It is a very large castle upon a considerable
elevation, and was built at different times. The earliest part goes back to the
days of the Emperor Charles IV. Neither within nor without are there any
traces of style or careful work, but there is something grandiose about the
general appearance. There is nothing in the way of gardens except planted
terraces going down to the Oder. The view is admirable, the more so as the
opposite banks are very well wooded with magnificent old oak-trees upon
an expanse of turf covered with cattle and horses reared in the Prince's
stables. The town of Beuthen and the fortress of Glogau make a good effect
in this countryside. The village is pretty, several factories provide

animation, and a pretty inn adds a touch of gracefulness. The castle lords,
husband and wife, with their youngest daughter, were away on business.
The eldest daughter, a pretty young person, was at the castle with a young
cousin and an old steward of the Prince; they received me most kindly. A
three-horsed carriage was harnessed, and after crossing the Oder by a ford
we drove through the great oak-trees which I mentioned above, in the midst
of which the Princess has built a delightful cottage, where we were given
tea. Unfortunately I was devoured by gnats, and returned with a swollen
face, while a slight sunstroke in addition completed my overthrow. In this
strange climate cold is so rapidly followed by heat that one is always caught
by surprise. However, I am very glad to have seen Carolath. It is a curious
spot; Chaumont, on the banks of the Loire, gives a fairly good idea of it.
This morning we started again at nine o'clock, my son and myself, to visit
some of my estates upon the other side of the Oder. The district is called
Schwarmitz, and is more exposed to inundations than any other. A nephew
of the late Herr Hennenberg farms it; he lives at Kleinitz, another of my
estates, but he had come to meet me at the dykes, which toilsome
constructions I visited. His wife, the Protestant and Catholic clergyman, the
head gamekeeper, and a crowd of people were waiting for us at the farm,
together with an excellent lunch. After the meal we went through the farm
in detail, two farmhouses and a fine strip of oak forest, and then returned by
way of Saabor. This is an estate belonging to the younger brother of Prince
Carolath. If the castle and park were properly kept up they would be
preferable to the castle and park of Carolath, though the situation is not so
good. It is, however, very fine, and the forecourt most beautiful. The
landowner has been ruined, and was very anxious for me to buy Saabor,
which is surrounded by my estates, but topographical circumstances are no
sufficient reason for concluding such a bargain.
Letters from Paris, which have hitherto gone astray, tell me the following
news: Private correspondence from Africa gives the most harassing details
about that vexatious country. Marshal Valée is again asking for troops and
money.
The Prefect of Tours, M. d'Entraigues, has run away from the uproar which
threatened him in his prefecture. The Sub-Prefect of Loches is the only
victim who has been sacrificed to the demands of the Deputy, M.

Taschereau. The nephew of Madame Mollien is transferred from the
prefecture of the Ariège to that of Cantal, and thus becomes the Prefect of
the Castellanes. M. Royer-Collard tells me that he has saved M. de Lezay,
the Prefect of Blois, and M. Bourbon. [104] With this object he asked an
interview of M. Thiers, with which he seems to have been well satisfied.
M. de La Redorte is now Ambassador at Madrid; his wife is too ill to
accompany him. This is an unexpected step forward in his career, and a
push which will cause vexation to all who will have their own promotion
delayed in consequence. I suppose the King must have made this
concession to his Prime Minister, whose close friend M. de La Redorte is,
by way of recompense for his non-intervention in Spain.
The Duc d'Orléans on his return from Africa is said to have found the
Duchesse d'Orléans in excellent health; the measles from which she has
suffered, by removing the centre of irritation, has restored her digestion, so
that she is able to take food and grow stronger. I am delighted to hear it.

Günthersdorf, June 18, 1840.—It has been raining all day, and I was
therefore obliged to abandon the project of visiting a small piece of land
belonging to me, half a league away, which is called Drentkau. I gave a
dinner to twelve people, clergy and local authorities. I shall have to give
two more to do the correct thing. My household is only arranged for twelve
people, and I cannot have more guests at one time.
My son Louis jabbers German with such effrontery that he is making rapid
progress. I have had a call from Prince Frederick of Carolath, the owner of
Saabor. His position in this province is analogous to that of a lord-lieutenant
in an English county.

Günthersdorf, June 19, 1840.—I visited two schools within my jurisdiction;
they are Catholic schools, and in an excellent state of efficiency. The
education given to the children surprised me, and I was most delighted and
edified. I gave some prizes by way of encouragement, and have undertaken
to provide for the career of a boy of twelve whose energy and intelligence
are really marvellous, though he is too poor to enter the seminary, for which
he feels a special vocation.

Sagan, June 21, 1840.—The day before yesterday at Günthersdorf I
received a letter which decided me to come here. Herr von Wolff wrote to
me from Berlin saying that transactions were in progress here of a very
irregular nature and against the interests of my children; that he was coming
to put the matter right, and advised me to come on my side. I therefore
started from Günthersdorf yesterday morning with M. de Valençay. The
journey took us six hours. I put up at the inn; as things are I do not think it
advisable to go to the castle, but how strangely I was impressed with the
necessity! Here, where my father and sister lived and where I spent so much
time in my youth, I have to go to an inn!
After an hour's conversation with Herr von Wolff we went to the castle. I
recognised everything except things that had been taken away with some
undue haste, and which perhaps will have to be brought back. My eldest
sister's old man of business wept bitterly. He is on very bad terms with Herr
von Gersdorff, who looks after the affairs of my sister, the Princess of
Hohenzollern. I saw him, but did not talk business, in the first place because
the matter affects my son and not myself, and also because I wished to
avoid any open breach.
Sagan is really beautiful so far as the castle and park are concerned, though
the neighbourhood is inferior to that in which my own estates lie; but the
house is magnificent. I found some old figures of my father's time, which
revived sad memories. It was a pleasure to see the portraits of my family.
There is here a certain Countess Dohna, who was brought up first with my
mother and then with my eldest sister, and who married a man of very good
position in the country. In her youth she was quite like a child of the house.
She came yesterday to tea with me, and I was delighted to see her and talk
with her of my poor sister, the Duchesse de Sagan, and of her last visit a
short time before her death.
This morning I went to mass in the charming church of the Augustine
monks, where my father has rested for thirty-nine years. I was greatly
affected by the whole service, and by the music, which was excellent.
After that I went to see the Countess Dohna, who came with me to the
castle. I wished to look at the outbuildings, which I had not seen yesterday.
In the stables I found an old gilt carriage lined with red velvet, and almost

exactly resembling the carriage of the Spanish Princes at Valençay. In that
carriage my father left Courlande and came here. The business man of my
sister, the Princess of Hohenzollern, sells everything which does not belong
to the fief, and put up this carriage for sale. I bought it at once for a bid of
thirty-five crowns.
I dined at two o'clock, according to the custom of the town, and afterwards
we went to the end of the park to visit a little ancient church where my
sister de Sagan told me that she wished to place my father's body and to be
buried herself. The little church must be restored, which will be quite easy.
It might be made a very suitable and retired burial-place.

Günthersdorf, June 22, 1840.—I have now returned to my own fireside, of
which I am quite fond. Before leaving Sagan this morning I received calls
from many of the local people, and went through a long business
conference. The whole Sagan question is so complicated that it will last a
long time. Wolff, Wurmb, and my eldest sister's old business man advised
me to simplify the matter by asking my sister, who still owes me some
money for Nachod, [105] to surrender the allodial forests of Sagan, which will
thus come back to my sons some day. I do not object, for these forests are
superb, but this is a further question. There are some preliminary points
which should be settled first and will take time. The business men urge me
strongly to spend the whole year in Germany. I cannot spend the winter in
so cold a climate, but I should like to come back next spring for the fine
weather. I believe my son is right in saying that he is very fortunate in
making his first appearance in this country with myself.
On my way back I stayed for two hours at Neusalz, which is a curious town
to visit. Half of it is occupied by a colony of Moravian brothers, whose
customs nearly resemble those of the Quakers. They are somewhat unusual,
especially the custom which they call the Feast of Love. In their church
they sing and pray and take coffee and cakes in the most perfect silence and
with the most perfect gluttony. They are very industrious, very avaricious,
somewhat hypocritical, and amazingly clean. They address one another in
the second person singular. They have missionaries, and their branches
spread throughout the world. Besides the Moravian church, Neusalz has a
Catholic and a Protestant church. The latter is quite new, and very pretty. I

visited it to see a present given by the reigning King of Prussia; this is a
very handsome Christ after Annibale Carrache. I also examined in full
detail the splendid ironworks, where many castings are made.

Günthersdorf, June 23, 1840.—It is beautiful weather. This evening my
garden is green, fresh, and sweet-smelling. There are times and seasons of
climate, nature, and mind which are especially prone to raise regrets in the
heart, and notwithstanding the actual comfort with which I am surrounded I
feel somewhat depressed to-day. I have been going through papers the
whole morning with my business man, and afterwards went with him to
inspect the Protestant school in this village.

Günthersdorf, June 25, 1840.—I spent yesterday from ten in the morning
till nine in the evening in visiting the most distant part of my estates, which
include a town, three farms, and a little forest. In one of the farms the
remains of an old Gothic castle have been transformed into a barn. I
lunched with a retired lieutenant who is married and works my farms, upon
one of which is a good dwelling-house; the farms have always been held
together, first by the grandfather and then by the father of the present
holder. His wife is expecting a child, and they hope that the lease will be
renewed to the fourth generation. I went to look at the church and the town,
which is three parts Catholic. I was very warmly received. The position of a
great overlord is very different here from in France, and my son's head is
quite turned by it.

Günthersdorf, June 26, 1840.—To-morrow I must return to Berlin, while
my son will go on to Marienbad. I have recovered my strength in the open-
air life that I have led among the woods. Yesterday I went to see the worst
of my farms, which is called Heydan, and is wrested by main force from the
sand.
I had my neighbour to dinner, Prince Carolath of Saabor, a stout man
between fifty and sixty years of age, very pleasant and polite.

Frankfort-on-the-Oder, June 28, 1840.—I spent the whole of yesterday out
of doors in rain and hail. I could have wished for better weather for the sake
of the good people who had prepared receptions for me, and also for my
own sake, as I could form but a very inadequate judgment of the two
recently made farms; one is called Peterhof, after my father, and the other
Dorotheenaue, after myself. These farms have been established upon lands
by the help of which the peasants of Kleinitz have been enabled to buy their
freedom from forced labour. Beautiful forests surround these lands. The
agent in residence belongs to a family of Courlande, which followed my
father to Silesia. A striking portrait of my father, who had made a present of
it to his follower, adorns his room. He values it highly, and so I could not
ask him to sell it to me, as I was tempted to do.
When I arrived here I found a very kind letter from the Duc d'Orléans,
referring most properly to the death of the King of Prussia and to his
successor. This is what he says about France: "The apparent agitation has
subsided, but there are still clouds upon the horizon; though the storm has
been cleverly averted, it has not entirely dispersed. However, the interval
between the sessions will pass off well. Only the King and M. Thiers are in
the foreground, and neither is willing to embarrass the other. Both wish to
smooth their path, and no question will arise to divide them. For my part, I
wish every success to our great little Minister, who can confer vast benefits
upon this country."
I was sorry to say good-bye to my son; he is a good child, natural, tractable,
and quiet. I am glad that he was pleased with Silesia, and that he has shown
so good a spirit in every respect. Moreover, in him I had a relative at hand,
and I begin to feel the great difference between solitude and isolation. For a
long time I confused these two conditions, which are so similar and yet so
different; the one I can bear very well, the other makes me afraid.

Berlin, June 29, 1840.—I arrived here yesterday at three o'clock in the
afternoon. I found many letters, but none of any interest. However, Madame
Mollien says that the Duchesse d'Orléans is with child, and adds that the
digestive disturbance has returned from which the measles seemed to have
relieved her. Madame Adélaïde, who also writes, seems to be well pleased
with the way in which the review of the National Guard passed off, and

especially with the reception of the Duc d'Orléans upon his return from
Africa. Some of the officers attached to him are dead, and many of them
have been left behind wounded or ill; he himself has grown very thin.
Here at Berlin, according to what I hear from different people whom I saw
yesterday evening, the moderation, the goodness, and the wisdom of the
new King give great satisfaction. He works hard, is accessible to everybody,
and shows every respect for the friends and the wishes of his father. Herr
von Humboldt has brought me all kinds of gracious messages from Sans
Souci; the Prince and Princess of Prussia have sent others; Madame de
Perponcher told me that there would be a grand Court of Condolence on
Friday next, and explained what costume would be worn.
The only change under the new Government is that the King works with
each of his Ministers separately, whereas the late King would only talk with
the Prince of Wittgenstein and work only with Count Lottum. Herr von
Altenstein, who was Minister of Worship and Education, died three weeks
before the late King, and no fresh appointment has yet been made. There is
much anxiety to know who will fill this important post. The choice will give
some indication of the direction in which affairs will be guided. The
nomination for that very reason is a matter of great perplexity to the King.

Berlin, July 1, 1840.—My great objection to towns is the calls that have to
be made and received. In spite of the fact that I am only a bird of passage
here I have to suffer this inconvenience. I have made a large number of calls
and received a great many yesterday morning and evening. The Prince of
Prussia, who started this morning for Ems, was with me for a long time, and
told me that the Empress of Russia was well pleased with her future
daughter-in-law, and the young Princess will travel to Russia with the
Empress herself.
Lord William Russell also came to see me. He told me that Lady Granville
had ordered Mr. Heneage, who is attached to her husband's Embassy at
Paris, to accompany Madame de Lieven to England.
I went with Wolff to see the studio of Begas, a German painter trained at
Paris under the eyes of Gros. He is very talented.

There has been an earthquake in the department of Indre-et-Loire, which
was felt at Tours; at Candes, four leagues from Rochecotte, several houses
have been overthrown. At Rochecotte nothing has happened, thank heaven,
but this subterranean convulsion frightens me; another event of the kind
might easily ruin all my work of restoration, and my artesian well might run
dry.

Potsdam, July 2, 1840.—I left Berlin yesterday at eleven o'clock in the
morning by the railway. I was in the same carriage with Prince Adalbert of
Prussia, the King's cousin, Lord William Russell, and Prince George of
Hesse. When I got out of the train, which reaches Potsdam in less than an
hour, I found the carriage and the servants of the Princess of Prussia, with
an invitation to visit her at once at Babelsberg, a pretty Gothic castle which
she has built upon a wooded height overlooking the valley of the Havel. It
is a small residence, but very well arranged, with a beautiful view. We sat
there talking for an hour. Her carriage remained at my disposal in Potsdam
after it had brought me back. When I had dressed I went to Sans Souci,
where the King dines at three o'clock. Both he and the Queen were most
kind and friendly. After dinner he took me to see the room where Frederick
II. died, and that King's library. He insisted that I should follow him to the
terrace, which is a fine piece of work. Then I was handed over to the
Countess of Reede, the Queen's chief lady, and to Humboldt, who drove me
to the Marble Palace, where are many beautiful objects of art, and also to
the New Palace, where the great summer festivities are held. The Princess
of Prussia came to meet us, and took me to Charlottenhof, which was made
by the reigning King from the models, plans, and design of a villa
belonging to Pliny. It is a charming sight, full of beautiful things brought
from Italy, which harmonise admirably, an inconceivable confusion of
flowers and fresco paintings as at Pompeii, with fountains and ancient
baths, all in the best taste. The King and Queen were there, and we had tea.
The King then took me with him in a pony chaise and drove me through
splendid avenues of old oak-trees to Sans Souci, where he insisted that I
should stay to supper. Supper was served in a little room without ceremony,
and there was more conversation than eating. This went on very pleasantly
and easily until eleven o'clock. The King promised me his portrait, and has

been most kind in every way. He made me promise to come and see him
again at Berlin, and was, as they say here, very herzlich.
This morning Humboldt came of his own accord to suggest that before
going to lunch with the Princess of Prussia I should see the Island of the
Peacocks, with its beautiful conservatories and curious menagerie. The
King's boatmen and the overseers of the botanical gardens waited on me,
and I brought back some splendid flowers. We reached the Princess of
Prussia a little late. After lunch she took me in the pony chaise to see
Glinicke, the pretty villa of Prince Charles, who is at this moment at the
baths of Kreuznach with his wife. Thence I returned to Potsdam and to
Berlin by the railway.

Berlin, July 3, 1840.—Madame de Perponcher came for me to-day at four
o'clock. She took me through the rooms of her mother, the Countess of
Reede, so that we avoided the crowd and were the first to reach the Court of
Condolence which was held by the Queen at Berlin. She was seated on her
throne in a room hung with black; the shutters were closed, and the room
was lighted only by four large candles, according to old etiquette. The
Queen wore a double veil, one streaming behind and the other lowered
before her face; all the ladies were dressed in the same way, and it was
impossible to distinguish faces. Each made a silent bow before the throne,
and that was all. It was strangely sad and lugubrious, but a very noble and
imposing ceremony. The men who passed before the throne were in
uniform, with their faces uncovered, but any gold or silver on their
uniforms was covered with black crape.

Berlin, July 5, 1840.—My stay at Berlin has now come to an end. I went to
high mass this morning, a less meritorious act here than elsewhere, on
account of the admirable music.

Herzberg, July 6, 1840.—I started this morning from Berlin by railway as
far as Potsdam, where I stayed for lunch. When I got out of the train I found
a footman with a very affectionate farewell letter from the Princess of
Prussia. I have been spoilt to the last moment. I feel most deeply grateful,

for every one has shown me a kindness and a cordiality which I had only
experienced in England before now.
I have finished the Stories of the Merovingian Age, by M. Augustin Thierry.
The book is not without interest or originality; as a picture of strange and
unknown customs, it is valuable. I have begun the Dialogues of Fénelon on
Jansenism, a book which is little known and almost forgotten, though
admirably written, and sometimes as striking as the Provincial Letters.

Königsbruck, July 8, 1840.—I came here yesterday at six o'clock in the
evening to see my niece, the Countess of Hohenthal. The lady of the place
is taller, fairer, more intelligent, quite as pleasant, and in my opinion prettier
and kinder than her sister, Frau von Lazareff. Her other sister, Fanny, is an
excellent and cheerful character, and if her health were better she would be
pretty. The Count of Hohenthal is a thorough gentleman who admires and
adores his wife. Miss Harrison, once the governess of these ladies, is a
prudent and loyal person who has acted as their mother, and is respected as
such in the household. Königsbruck is a great house, rather vast than
beautiful, at the entrance to a small town. Its position would be picturesque
and the view agreeable if it were not almost choked by the outbuildings,
which, in the German style, are placed far too near the castle. The country is
a transition-point between the barrenness and flatness of Prussia and the
rich productivity of Saxony.
The following is an extract from a letter from M. Royer-Collard, written
from Paris when he was about to start for the Blésois: "Thiers came even to-
day to sit down here in silence with M. Cousin, who represented the
companion brother of the Jesuit. Thiers speaks very disdainfully of the
Ministries which preceded his own, and modestly of his successes as
Minister of the Interior; in any case, he is very kind to me."

Königsbruck, July 9, 1840.—To-day I went over the castle in detail. It
might afford opportunity for beautification in several directions; but such is
not the local taste, as the lords work their estates themselves and prefer the
useful to the agreeable.

My niece had told me that the King and Queen of Saxony had expressed a
wish to see me; I therefore wrote yesterday to Pillnitz, where the Court now
is, to ask their Majesties for an interview. When the answer arrives I shall
arrange for my departure.
My nieces generally spend their winters at Dresden, and told me that the
French Minister, M. de Bussières, was in very bad odour there. He is
regarded as an unpleasant character and in bad style. He has introduced
some disagreeable customs, and deeply wounded the Queen by various
tactless remarks concerning her. There is a general wish for his removal to
some other diplomatic post.

Dresden, July 11, 1840.—I left Königsbruck this morning, and was glad to
see once more the pretty suburbs of Dresden. I am now about to dress and
to start for Pillnitz.

Dresden, July 12, 1840.—The castle of Pillnitz is neither very beautiful nor
curious. The gardens are only moderately good, but the situation on the
banks of the Elbe is charming; the country is delightful and fertile. The
whole royal family of Saxony were assembled there yesterday. The Queen,
whom I had known long ago at Baden, before her marriage, is the tallest
woman I know; she is very kind, well educated, and simply anxious to
please. The King had dined several times with M. de Talleyrand at Paris; he
is a frank and natural person, especially when his shyness, which is obvious
at first, has time to wear off. Princess John, the Queen's sister, and the twin
sister of the Queen of Prussia, is strikingly like the latter, but she has been
so worn out by constant child-bearing that she hardly has the strength to
move or to utter more than a few words. I had also known her at Baden,
when she was very pretty and agreeable. Her husband, Prince John, is one
of the most learned royal personages of his time, always busy with deep
matters; his dress and appearance are very careless, and there is something
of the German professor about him. Princess Augusta, the Queen's cousin,
had nearly all the sovereigns of Europe as her suitors thirty years ago:
Napoleon mentioned her name in the council where his marriage was
decided; none the less she remained single, and, moreover, has become a
very pleasant old maid. She was never pretty, but was fresh and bright, with

individual points of beauty. Her expression remains kind and attractive.
Finally, I made a conquest of Princess Amelia, the King's sister, who writes
comedies. She is a witty and imaginative person, and her conversation is
lively and sparkling; she showed remarkable kindness to me.
After dinner I was taken into a very fine room to change my dress, and was
strongly tempted to theft by the many fine examples of old Dresden china.
The Queen sent for me, and I was taken to her room, where she asked me
questions, as the Princesses had done. Everybody came in soon in out-of-
door dress, and we started in carriages for a long drive. The vine is largely
grown about Dresden. Above the royal vineyards the King has built a little
summer-house, which reminds me of that of the Grand Duchess Stephanie
at Baden. This was the object of our drive, and the view from it is superb:
on the right was Dresden, opposite the Elbe, with its smiling banks, and on
the left the mountain chain known as Saxon Switzerland. Tea was served in
the summer-house and after a pleasant conversation I said farewell, when
all kinds of warm messages were exchanged. My carriage had followed me,
and brought me back to Dresden by ten o'clock in the evening.

Dresden, July 13, 1840.—As yesterday was Sunday I went to mass in the
morning in the chapel of the castle, where the music is famous throughout
Germany. It is the only place where singers are still to be heard in the style
of Crescentini and Marchesi. This celebrated music did not satisfy me; it
was too operatic in style, too noisy and dramatic, instead of suggesting a
religious calm; moreover, these mutilated voices, notwithstanding their
brilliancy, have a certain unpleasant harshness and shrillness. I never cared
for the voice of Crescentini, whom I heard at her best at Napoleon's Court.
After mass we visited the interior of the castle, where Bendemann, one of
the most distinguished artists of Düsseldorf, is now painting frescoes in the
great hall where the King opens and closes the sessions of the States. It will
be a fine piece of work in respect both of its composition and execution, but
it will never have the brilliancy which only Italy can give to this style of
painting, and which is so indispensable to it. I was much interested by the
apartments of the Elector Augustus the Strong, which were furnished in the
fashion of his age, and have never been used since, except by the Emperor
Napoleon. They contain a great number of specimens of Buhl furniture,

lacquer-work, gilt copper, old china, and inlaid wood, but these things are
kept in bad condition and badly arranged, and do not make a quarter of the
effect they should produce. The castle from the outside looks like an old
convent, but there are some curious architectural details in its interior courts
which remind me of the castle of Blois, though they cannot vie with it.
Nothing can give grace, lightness, and elegance to architectural work like
the everlasting white stone which belongs exclusively to the centre of
France. Here the stone is very dark.
In the evening I had a visit from the Baron of Lindenau, Minister of
Education and Director of Museums. He played an important political part
in the affairs of Saxony during the co-regency of the present King. I had
known him formerly at the house of my late aunt, the Countess of Recke.
He is a distinguished man, and I was glad to see him again.
My nephew took us this morning to see the Japanese Palace, which contains
the royal library, the manuscripts, the intaglios, medals, and engravings. I
went through twenty vaulted chambers, which contain all known specimens
of china, of every age and every country. There were some very beautiful
and very curious things among them. This collection is especially rich in
Chinese specimens. Then we went on to the royal china manufactory, which
has preserved the fine paste so greatly admired in old Saxon china, which is
now sold by curiosity dealers.
After dinner I went to the historical museum called the Zwinger, which is
arranged after the style of the Tower of London. Herr von Lindenau had
sent word of my coming to the chief directors, who are most learned men,
and explained everything to us delightfully. The picture gallery and the
treasury I had seen upon other occasions, and did not visit them again.

Teplitz, July 14, 1840.—It is not a long journey from Dresden here—only
eight short hours, through charming country. The hills prevent rapid
progress, but the variety and the attractiveness of the scenery compensate
for the delay. Some of the scenery recalls the Murgthal, and other parts
Wildbad. The Erzgebirge, at the foot of which Teplitz lies, makes a
sufficient background, though it is not an imposing mountain range. The
mountains are, moreover, well wooded, the village is very pretty, flowers

are grown, and the roads are excellent. Immediately after my arrival I had a
visit from my niece, Princess Biron, who married my eldest nephew. She
took me in her carriage to see the town, which is not far off, the pretty
promenades, and the village of Schönau, which is close to the town and
contains the chief watering-places. It is all very nice, and prettily built; but
Teplitz may be as pretty as it likes—it cannot equal dear Baden. The society
of the place is also different, and seems to me to be very moderate here. It is
said that the death of the King of Prussia will make a great difference, as he
came every year.
Princess Biron is a pleasant person; though not pretty, she has a noble
bearing, and is deeply loved and respected in her husband's family.

Teplitz, July 15, 1840.—I am starting for Carlsbad, where I shall see my
two sisters this evening, from whom I have been separated for sixteen
years. This unduly long absence has changed my habits, and I have lost
touch with their interests; so I begin the day with some emotion.

Carlsbad, July 16, 1840.—Fifteen hours' travelling to-day, during which I
did not stop for a moment. I had to cover twenty-six leagues, continually
going uphill or down. After Teplitz the country is pretty as far as Dux, the
castle of Count Wallenstein, where Casanova wrote his memoirs; after that
the country becomes extremely dull. It was ten o'clock when I arrived. My
sisters were sitting opposite one another playing patience. Jeanne, the
Duchess of Acerenza, welcomed me very naturally; Pauline, the Princess of
Hohenzollern, with some embarrassment, which immediately
communicated itself to me. We only talked of indifferent matters, and they
gave me tea. I then went to a house opposite, where my sister Jeanne has
hired a room for me.

Carlsbad, July 17, 1840.—The Duc de Noailles writes from Paris telling
me that he dined with M. Thiers at the house of the Sardinian
Ambassador, [106] and had a long talk with him. He found M. Thiers
profoundly interested in Africa, willing to spend vast sums there, to wage a
great war and keep up an army of eighty thousand men, and to build the

continuous lines which have been so largely discussed, to surround the
whole plain of the Mitija. [107] He attempts to prove that these efforts will
produce marvellous results in two or three years: the real possession of
Africa, a large colonising movement, and a splendid port on the
Mediterranean. The Duc de Noailles also tells me that Madame de Lieven is
at London, and is greatly pleased with her reception.
Another correspondent says: "The King does not seem to come to terms
with his Ministry, although he is said to be on the best footing with the
several members of it. Having lost a game, the King has now to win one,
and is waiting his opportunity patiently. M. Guizot still seems to be the
fashion in England. [108] He bets at the racecourse, and has won two hundred
louis. Surely M. Guizot on the turf is one of the strangest anomalies of our
age!"
Yesterday my sisters took me to see the various springs and the shops,
which are very pretty. I then dined with them at three o'clock, my brother-
in-law, Count Schulenburg, being present. [109] Then we went for a drive
along the valley, which greatly resembles the valley of Wildbad. There I
found some old acquaintances—the Prince and Princess Reuss-Schleiz, the
Count and Countess Solms, son of the old Ompteda by her first marriage,
the Countess Karolyi, called Nandine, the old Löwenhielm, with his wife,
whose first married name was Frau von Düben, Liebermann, and an old
Princess Lichenstein. I returned home at ten o'clock, rather wearied with
this succession of faces.

Carlsbad, July 18, 1840.—Yesterday I went to pay a call to the Countess of
Björnstjerna, who lives in the same house as myself. She is starting for
Hamburg this morning, where she will hear whether she is to meet her
husband at Stockholm or London. Her eldest son is marrying the only
daughter of her sister, Countess Ugglas, who died some years ago. It has
been pleasant to meet some one to remind me of London, the best time of
my life, even in the form of this little Björnstjerna. I have also been to see
an old man of eighty years who always used to live with my aunt, the
Countess of Recke, and whom I had missed at Dresden, where I hoped to
find him. He usually lives there in a house the use of which was bequeathed

to him by my aunt, and which reverts to myself after the death of this poor
old man. We both grew sad over the memories of my good aunt.
After dinner I went for a drive with my sisters along a pretty road cut out of
the mountain-side, and visited a china factory, where there were some pretty
things. Pottery has been a comparatively widespread industry in Bohemia
for some time, but remains much behind the Saxon manufacture.

Carlsbad, July 19, 1840.—Yesterday I spent very much as the former day,
and as I shall probably spend every day of my stay here. I always wake up
early, write till nine o'clock, get up and dress. At ten o'clock I go to my
sisters, and stay talking to them till midday. I then pay some necessary calls,
and return home to read. I go back to my sisters at three o'clock for dinner,
then take them for a drive in a carriage that I have hired. At six o'clock they
sit in front of their door to see the people go past. I stay with them for a
time, and then return to my room, and finally go back to them at eight
o'clock for tea.
My sister Hohenzollern has brought all the curious letters that had belonged
to my mother, and which my sister the Duchesse de Sagan had seized. She
proposed to keep a third of them, and we therefore divided them. My share
contains the letters of the late King of Poland, [110] of the Emperor
Alexander, of the brothers and sisters of Frederick the Great, Goethe, the
Emperor Napoleon to the Empress Joséphine, the great Condé, Louis XIV.,
and in particular a letter from Fénelon to his grand-nephew whom he called
Fanfan. [111] This letter is enclosed in a paper on which the Bishop of Alais,
M. de Bausset, has written a signed note testifying to the authenticity of this
letter, so that there are two autographs in one.

Carlsbad, July 20, 1840.—I went to mass yesterday in an enormous crowd,
for this country is essentially Catholic. The little chapels, the great
crucifixes, the ex-votos, scattered about the mountains, are all visited on
Sundays by the people, who leave small candles and flowers there. I went to
visit two of these little shrines, which increase the beauty of the landscape,
apart from their religious meaning.

I then went to see my sisters in the usual place. Countess Léon Razumowski
and Princess Palfy were with them. I was introduced, but did not find them
very interesting. Countess Razumowski is the leader of the pleasure-seeking
society here; they spend their days in tea and supper parties in the style of
the Russian ladies at Baden.
M. de Tatitcheff is also here, and told us that a young Russian who had
come straight from Rome said that the Pope was in a desperate condition.
In the evening a Mrs. Austin, a clever English lady, brought letters of
introduction to my sisters. She sees a good deal of M. Guizot at London, is
always quoting his remarks, and boasts of her acquaintanceship with Lady
Lansdowne.

Carlsbad, July 22, 1840.—Yesterday I had a very touching letter from the
Abbé Dupanloup. He has been for rest and retirement at the Grande
Chartreuse, whence his letter is dated. He proposes to return to Paris at once
to help in the consecration of the new Archbishop. [112] He speaks with much
concern about the condition of the French clergy, whose irritation he
describes as very great.
I have also a letter from the Princesse de Lieven from London. She says:
"The Ministry is very weak, but it is likely to continue in life, though
vitality will be feeble. The Queen has entirely recovered her popularity
since the attempt to assassinate her. [113] She really behaved with great
courage and coolness, most creditable and unusual at her age. She is very
fond of her husband, whom she treats as a small boy. He is not so clever as
she, but is very calm and dignified. M. Guizot has an excellent position
here, is universally respected, and perfectly happy. Herr von Brunnow cuts
a poor figure. He and his wife are thought to be quite ridiculous and out of
place. The little Chreptowicz, daughter of Count Nesselrode, who is here, is
very vexed and ashamed about it. Alava has lost his cheerfulness. Lady
Jersey's hair is grey. Lord Grey looks very well, but is very peevish."
It is said here that Matusiewicz is dangerously ill of gout at Stockholm, and
that M. Potemkin has gone raving mad at Rome. This is likely to cause
some changes in the Russian diplomatic service, and perhaps will bring my
cousin, Paul Medem, from Stuttgart.

Carlsbad, July 27, 1840.—I propose to start the day after to-morrow for
Baden. A certain Herr von Hübner arrived yesterday. He is an Austrian [114]
with a post in the office of Prince Metternich. He brought me a pressing
invitation from the Prince to go and see him at Königswarth, which is only
six hours by road from here. I sent a refusal, but in terms of warm regret; it
would not be kind to my sisters if I were to cut my stay short by a day or
two after so long a separation, and I also fear the foolish interpretations
which our newspapers might place upon my action. Frederic Lamb,
Esterhazy, Tatitcheff, Fiquelmont, Maltzan, and other diplomatists are
gathered at Königswarth. This will attract attention, and I am not anxious
that my name, which has not yet been sufficiently forgotten, should be
made the subject of delightful journalistic comments.

Carlsbad, July 30, 1840.—I am leaving Carlsbad at midday this morning,
and going with my sister Acerenza to Löbichau, in Saxony, an estate which
belongs to her; my mother is buried there. She will then meet my sister
Hohenzollern at Ischl, for which she also starts to-day. We part upon the
best terms, and I have promised to pay them a visit at Vienna on my next
journey to Germany.

Löbichau, July 31, 1840.—I arrived here yesterday evening, after a journey
through a picturesque and mountainous country, well wooded and well
watered. I have been travelling in the pretty duchy of Saxony-Altenburg, a
fertile, smiling, and populous district, where I spent every summer until the
time of my marriage. I revisited it afterwards upon several occasions. Many
recollections give me an interest in the country, and sometimes arouse
emotion. Some old faces of past times still remain to greet me. I went into
the room where my mother died, and which my sister now uses, and we
went to see her grave at the end of the park. I also went to the presbytery to
see the wife of the pastor, who was a faithful companion of my youth; one
of her daughters is my godchild, and is a pretty young person.

Löbichau, August 1, 1840.—It rained all yesterday, and it was impossible to
go out. I spent my time in going over the house and looking at the rooms
which I had occupied at different periods. Some people from the