Читать книгу Memoirs of the Duchesse De Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan) , 1841-1850 - Dorothée duchesse de Dino - Страница 4

When I returned from Chinon I found two letters which will influence my movements during the summer; one was from the King of Prussia who had heard of my travelling proposals and asks me to go and see him at Sans Souci. This induces me to go to Berlin about May 12 and so one point is settled. The other letter is from my sisters who tell me that they will remain at Vienna until July 1, and that I ought to carry out the proposal I had formed to go and see Madame de Sagan there if she had lived. I am anxious that the tie between my sisters and myself should be maintained. This is only as it should be and it is also a comfort; we are now reduced to a very small group and the tie of blood has a strength which one is surprised to find persisting in spite of all that should naturally destroy it or at any rate weaken it.

Rochecotte, March 16, 1841.—Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de Lieven who says: "The Firman conferring heredity seems sheer humbug; such was the opinion of the Pasha and even more so the opinion of Napier, the English admiral. He has advised the Pasha to refuse it, which he has done very politely. While these events were in progress in the East, we here received a very polite invitation from London to rejoin the concert of Europe in order to settle the Eastern Question in general, and this invitation was preceded by a protocol announcing that the Egyptian question was entirely settled. As the terms of invitation seemed to be suitable, there was a disposition here to open negotiations. Your Government has proposed some verbal changes which were immediately accepted, and the matter was almost concluded when the news that I have just told you arrived. M. Guizot immediately brought the matter to a standstill, for the Egyptian affair, instead of being terminated, is beginning again, and the Sultan and the Pasha are as far from an understanding as ever. The Firman was dictated by Lord Ponsonby and the other three representatives opposed it. The English at Paris are ashamed of this despicable trick; every one regards it as an act of bad faith, and there is some small amusement at the embarrassment which will be caused to the northern Powers, as the document will have to be drawn up again unless the whole quarrel is to be reopened as if no Treaty of July 15 had ever been made. Meanwhile the Germans are yearning to see the isolation of France come to an end, as this position forces them to undertake great expense in the way of armaments, while France will not hear of any understanding as long as the difference with Egypt persists.

"And what of America? Lady Palmerston writes to me every week and says in her last letter, 'We are very pleased with the news from America, and everything will be settled.' This means that poor MacLeod will be hung and the English territory will be seized. If this will satisfy them, all well and good. [14] In China, English affairs are also going badly.

"Bresson will certainly return to Berlin. M. de Sainte-Aulaire has recently arrived. He will go to London, when, I cannot say, probably when you send an ambassador there. I do not know who will go to Vienna.

"Lord Beauvale had an attack of gout during the celebration of his marriage; [15] he told the priest to hurry up, and was taken home very ill. The next day he was in bed and his wife had dinner at a small table at his bedside. They will come to Paris on their way to England.

"Adèle de Flahaut is dying; her father is behaving like a madman, but her mother shows a man's courage.

"I have decided to send you Lady Palmerston's letter so that Pauline may read the details that interest her."

The following is Lady Palmerston's letter to the Princess: "I must tell you that my daughter Fanny is engaged to Lord Jocelyn. He is a charming young man of twenty-eight, handsome, cheerful, loyal, clever and pleasant, and he has travelled in every part of the world. He has just come back from China, of which he gives very interesting accounts. We are all very pleased with the marriage, which is quite romantic. He sent his proposal in writing from Calcutta a year and a half ago but could not wait for an answer as he was obliged to start for Chusan; so he has been nearly two years wavering between hope and fear and reached Liverpool without knowing whether he would not find her married to some one else, for in the English papers which he sometimes saw he occasionally found announcements of Fanny's marriage with some other person. Lord Jocelyn's father is Lord Roden, a great Tory, but that, you know, is a trifle which does not disturb us, as Fanny's happiness is our first object, and love and politics do not go together. Moreover, he is not a fanatic like his father, but very reasonable and steady in his ideas.

"The news from America is pretty good upon the whole: it is all a matter of talk and party spirit; the out-goers wish to make the position difficult for the in-comers, almost in European style."

I now propose to copy a little romance which was composed by Henry IV. and which I have found in the Memoirs of Sully. It seems to me full of elegance and charm, and to be even more graceful than Charmante Gabrielle:

Dawn of day

Come, I pray,

Gladden thou mine eyes;

My shepherdess

My heart's distress

Is redder than thy skies.

She is fair

Past compare;

See her slender form,

Eyes that are

Brighter far

Than the star of morn.

Though with dew

Touched anew,

Roses are less bright,

No ermine

So soft is seen

Nor lily half so white.

How pretty it is! Henry IV.'s letters are also charming; in fact his figure alone lends interest to this extraordinary work which is as heavy and diffuse as possible, though interesting to any one who has the patience to delve in it.

Rochecotte, March 27, 1841.—My son-in-law hears that the speech of M. Molé against the proposed fortifications has not answered the general expectation; that the speech of M. d'Alton Shée, which was said to have been written by M. Berryer, sparkled with wit and clever mockery and delighted the Chamber of Peers, which is really as much opposed to the law as the Chamber of Deputies was, though it will probably vote as the other Chamber has done.

Rochecotte, March 29, 1841.—I have now reached my last week of country life which will be filled with a thousand details, arrangements, accounts, and orders to be given. I shall greatly miss my solitude, my peace, the regularity of my daily life, the simplicity of my habits, the health-giving work without fatigue or agitation, which profits others and therefore myself. I cannot help feeling some anxiety at leaving the protecting haven where I have been taking shelter to set sail again. Society is a troublesome and stormy sea to sail, for which I do not feel in the least fitted. I have no pilot and cannot steer my ship alone, and am always afraid of running upon some reef. My wide experience has not given me cleverness, but has merely made me distrustful of myself, which does not conduce to the possibility of a good passage.

Rochecotte, April 2, 1841.—I see a notice in the newspapers of the death of the Vicomtesse d'Agoult, mistress of the robes to the Dauphine. The loss of so old and devoted a friend must be a severe blow to the Princess, especially during her exile. There are few griefs and trials through which she has not passed.

Rochecotte, April 3, 1841.—The newspapers announce that the amendment which would have sent back the law upon the fortifications to the Chamber of Deputies, has been rejected by the House of Peers by a considerable majority. This means that the law will pass in its original form. The Château will be delighted.

The Duchesse de Montmorency tells me that I shall find hypnotism again the rage in Paris: every one has his own medium, and little morning and evening parties are given at which experiments are performed. This fashion was introduced by Madame Jules de Contades, the sister of my neighbour, M. du Ponceau. Her brother, who has been three months in Paris, has obtained a woman of Anjou who is very susceptible to hypnotism. She was with him at Benais [16] last autumn, and Dr. Orye tells me wonderful things about her. He was formerly very incredulous, but what he has seen of this woman has shaken his unbelief.

Rochecotte, April 4, 1841.—Certainly Paris is now to have its fortifications. The Duc de Noailles writes me a letter upon the subject which is very politic and probably very judicious, but which I found very wearisome. He adds, "I may tell you as a piece of news that the Princesse de Lieven is giving dinners; she has very fine silver and china, and invited me last Monday with M. Guizot, Montrond, M. and Madame de la Redorte, Mr. Peel (brother of Sir Robert Peel) and Mrs. Peel. This was the second dinner she has given. The first was to her Ambassador and his niece Apponyi. She also gave an evening reception for the Duchess of Nassau, the widow and the daughter of Prince Paul of Würtemberg, who came to spend a fortnight in Paris to see her father who has been at death's door and is still very ill. The Duchess of Nassau is deaf but she is very pleasant and agreeable. She did not wish to call at the Tuileries but her father insisted. The whole of the Royal Family, except the King, called upon her the next day. Three days later she was invited to dinner and refused, saying that she was obliged to go to Versailles on that day. She refused before mentioning the subject to her father, who is certainly not a supporter of the Philippe party, but felt the unpleasantness of the refusal. He has insisted that she should make an appointment with the Queen for her farewell call: the Queen replied that she was very sorry, but that the engagements of Holy Week would not allow her to receive her. As soon as she arrived, the Court placed its theatre boxes at her disposal; she refused, saying that she would not go to the theatre at all, though she has been to the Opera in the box of the Duchesse de Bauffremont. In our faubourg people are delighted with this conduct, which seems to me utterly stupid and in bad taste." I also think such pranks are ridiculous.

As you are reading the little Fenelon, [17] remember that I especially recommend the third and fourth volumes; I consider it is equal to Madame de Sévigné and La Bruyère. The whole work is pervaded with the inimitable grace and the fine and gentle austerity of the Christian bishop, an aristocrat, a man of God and of the world, whose intellect was terrifying, as Bossuet said.

I was starting in an hour and am very sorry to go. When and how shall I return? The unforeseen plays too large a part in the life of each of us.

Paris, April 6, 1841.—At length I am in this huge Paris and my impressions are by no means favourable.

Paris, April 9, 1841.—Madame de Lieven wrote asking me to come and see her, and I asked her to a quiet dinner with myself. She accepted the invitation and appeared in full dress, less thin than before, and in good spirits. She told me that her Emperor is as unsociable as ever; that the little Princess of Darmstadt cannot endure the climate of St. Petersburg and that the cold has given her a red nose; the young heir is by no means in love with her, but will marry her. The Princess assures me that nothing has been settled as regards diplomatic changes; that Sainte-Aulaire will go to London and Flahaut to Naples and the rest remains a matter of chance. It is thought that Palmerston is secretly encouraging the strange actions of Ponsonby, as the Eastern Question is by no means settled. Lord Granville has been obliged to resign on account of his health. Lady Clanricarde is very anxious to come to Paris, but the little Queen and Lady Palmerston do not like her; however, she has been reconciled to Lord Palmerston, whom she used to hate. It is said that the Queen would like to appoint Lord Normanby to Paris, as he is a weak member of the Cabinet.

M. Decazes is so ill that people are thinking of his successor. Some mention M. Monnier as a possibility, and I have heard other names which I do not remember.

Paris, April 10, 1841.—I should be glad to have something interesting to say of Paris, where the clash and strife of interests is so strong, but I have nothing and seem to be more vacant and listless even than at Rochecotte. Many words buzz about my ears and leave no impression and merely prevent the quiet course of my reflections.

Yesterday after lunch I called upon Madame Adélaïde. She had heard through a third person that I was at Paris and had asked me to come. I had not proposed to appear at the Château until after Easter. I found her ill and strangely changed; thin, bent, tired and grown old. She was very pleasant, but really harassing with her interminable discourse upon the fortifications. I think she must have sent for me to discuss this subject, as if I had any opinion upon it or as if my idea could be of any importance. I was more interested by the portrait of Queen Christina of Spain which she showed me and which is an agreeable picture. This Queen did not go to Naples because her brother would not receive her. She should now be at Lyons, and it is thought that she will come back here where the Court seems to be favourably inclined to her. For the stout Infanta there seems to be less liking, and she has not increased her popularity recently by sending her three eldest daughters into a convent for no obvious reason. Since her arrival here she took the three Princesses to balls and other social functions, and now shuts them up in this way.

M. Molé came to see me towards the end of the morning, and is very depressed upon the subject of politics. The fact is quite clear that no one has gained either power or reputation. The Court seems to have been so entirely committed to these wretched fortifications which no one wants, not even those who have voted for them, that the consequences have been almost ridiculous. Many people's feelings have been hurt on this question and all who did not promise their vote were ridiculed and insulted point blank. It is said that the Prince Royal has not spared himself in the matter. I am very sorry, as I shall always be about anything that may injure his position. At the present moment he is at St. Omer.

Paris, April 12, 1841.—Some one has just come in to tell me a sad piece of news. The pretty Duchesse de Vallombrose, who was quite young, was confined of her second child a few days ago and was attacked with puerperal fever two days later. The servant whom I sent to inquire for her was told that she died last night. It is very dreadful. The little schoolmistress of Rochecotte was cured of this same disease by country doctors, while the Duchesse de Vallombrose, with the whole of the faculty about her, dies in spite of their supposed science. Life indeed realises but little of what it promises.

Paris, April 13, 1841.—The death of the Duchesse de Vallombrose was yesterday a general subject of conversation. The unfortunate woman seems to have had no suspicion of her danger. A priest was fetched who, fortunately on this occasion, was a capable man (the Abbé Dupanloup), and was obliged to prepare her mind for this terrible conclusion. Deaths of this kind in the time of Louis XIV. would have produced sudden conversions, but nothing can effect the worn-out emotions and the dead consciences of our age, where everything is flat and dull, at home and abroad.

Paris, April 14, 1841.—M. de Sainte-Aulaire came to lunch with me yesterday to ask some questions concerning the nature of the London Embassy and its social position, as he is preparing to move thither. M. Royer-Collard came in before he had gone and they talked of the French Academy and of a new Book which M. Nodier is preparing, The History of Words. People say that it will be a curious and serious work, excellently written by a clever man, and a book of real authority.

M. Royer-Collard told me that on the day of his daughter's death his study door opened three times in a quarter of an hour to admit M. Molé, who was quite simple; M. Thiers, who was less so; and M. Guizot, who was nothing of the kind. Their meeting made the incident stranger still. M. Guizot fell upon the neck of M. Royer-Collard, pale and in tears, and the bereaved father felt too weak to keep him back, and I think he was quite right. Two of M. Guizot's children had been dangerously ill, and had been saved by the care of M. Andral. [18] M. Royer-Collard had called upon M. Guizot to congratulate him upon their recovery, and since that time when the two men met in the Chamber, they have shaken hands and exchanged a few words. As I am a supporter of peace in general, and think that the more we advance in life the more we should incline in that direction, I told M. Royer-Collard more than once that I was glad of the reconciliation.

My children came to dinner with me and after they had gone I went to bed. I might go into society if I pleased, or give receptions here, but I have an invincible dislike to these functions, and the hour during which I am at home to friends seems to me the longest in the day. Our dear M. de Talleyrand, whose insight was so profound and who spoke more truly of every one than I realised at the time, told me very correctly that when my children were married I should fall out of society. As a matter of fact I can no longer endure it. My priest, my White Sisters, my garden, my poor people and my workmen, are enough for me. What one knows as friends in society are quite uninteresting compared with them. Madame de Maintenon said, "My friends interest me, but my poor people touch my heart." I have often applied this phrase to my own case and understand its meaning fully.

Paris, April 16, 1841.—Yesterday the eldest daughter of the Duc de Rohan-Chabot, with whom we are connected, was married to the Marquis de Béthisy. It was a fine wedding, and all the high society of the Faubourg Saint-Germain were there. I was invited to the celebration. The Church of St. Thomas d'Aquin could hardly contain the crowd; the throng in the sacristy was overwhelming; people were elbowing one another on the steps, while the driving rain increased the confusion, far from diminishing the haste of the visitors to return home. The Abbé Dupanloup who daily baptizes, confesses, buries or marries some one from our quarter, uttered a discourse which was somewhat long, though it touched those who listened to it. But nearly every one was thinking of such wholly mundane affairs as dress and display. At Paris, and in our society, marriage is rarely an event of any solemnity, and the words of the priest are the only serious utterances amid the extreme frivolity, in which the marriage service can scarcely be heard. It was a sight which evoked more than one sad reflection, especially for those who remembered that in the same church the evening before the last prayers were said over the coffin of the young and beautiful Duchesse de Vallombrose.

Paris, April 17, 1841.—Yesterday I took advantage of the kindness of the Comte de Rambuteau, who offered me his box for the last performance of Mlle. Mars. There was a crowded audience and every one worth knowing was there, including the whole of the Royal Family. Mlle. Mars exhausted all the artifices of her dress with surprising success and all the resources of her talent with even greater success. Her voice was in no need of training or study: it was always fresh and perfectly modulated; if she would avoid parts that are too young for her and change her style she might have continued on the boards for a long time to come. Her farewell performance was a brilliant event and she was overwhelmed with flowers and applause. The Misanthrope was disgracefully murdered by the poor company and Mlle. Mars alone respected Molière. In les Fausses Confidences, there was more unity and vigour and Mlle. Mars was a triumphant success.

Paris, April 25, 1841.—M. Royer-Collard in the course of his last visit but one to my house told me that he had some twenty of M. de Talleyrand's letters which he would give me if I cared to have them. I accepted his offer, as I am glad to have as many of M. de Talleyrand's autographs as possible. He brought them to me the day before yesterday; yesterday I read them through and some are excellent for the gracious and studied simplicity which was peculiar to his style. Among them I found what I had long been seeking for, though I had never been able to put my hand upon it; a copy of the letter which M. de Talleyrand wrote to Louis XVIII. when the memoirs of the Duc de Rovigo on the subject of the Duc d'Enghien [19] appeared. I knew that he had written it, but I had confused the dates and was under the impression that this letter had been addressed to Lord Castlereagh instead of to the King. M. de Talleyrand sent a copy of it to M. de Royer-Collard, which copy I am now delighted to find again.

M. de Villèle, who has not been at Paris since 1830 is now there. This is an event for the Legitimist party. They are keenly anxious that he should be reconciled to M. de Chateaubriand, and yet the two gentlemen have not met hitherto, simply for the reason that neither of them will make the first call, though both declare that they would be delighted to see one another again and to forget the past.

Paris, April 26, 1841.—Yesterday before the benediction I said good-bye to all my good friends of the Sacré Coeur. All these ladies are very proper and Madame de Gramont is quite an exceptional personage for her cleverness, her kindness and her graciousness combined with firmness. She is very kind to me and I am more at my ease with her than with any society personage. The fact is that I am out of touch with society and realise the fact daily; society not only disgusts me but irritates and displeases me. I am disturbed, wounded and agitated by it and go out less every day: the mental peace and balance which I have recovered with such difficulty in my retirement are lost here. I am dissatisfied with myself and by no means satisfied even with those concerning whom I have no complaint to make.

Paris, April 29, 1841.—Yesterday at the end of the morning I had an infinite number of callers who came to say farewell and all seemed equally tiresome; I can only make one exception in the case of the good and excellent Russian Ambassador, [20] who proposes to spend part of the summer at Carlsbad. His Sovereign is certainly not going to Ems; it appears that the courts of St. Petersburg and of Berlin are not upon good terms and that the King of Prussia sent his brother William to be present at the wedding of the Hereditary Grand Duke merely in order to avoid an open breach. The strained relations between these two Courts are due to an opposition of commercial interests, to the unpopularity of the Russians in Germany which the Governments cannot overlook and especially to the behaviour of the States in the Grand Duchy of Posen and to the liberty there granted for the use of the Polish language. The Emperor Nicholas flew into a temper and said that he might as well be living next to the Chamber of French Deputies. These details are quite official. I have them from the King himself whom I saw for a long time yesterday at his sister's house, to whom I went to say good-bye. I found both of them much disturbed by the sentence of acquittal pronounced a few days ago in the notorious case of the false letters attributed to the King. [21] The verdict is in fact wrong and unjust, for no one knows the foolishness of these letters better than myself. On this occasion we talked of many matters which prove that no one can ever write too little, that hardly anything should be entrusted to paper and that letters should above all be destroyed. I went home feeling really terrified on this question.

Paris, May 1, 1841.—Yesterday I called upon the Duchesse d'Orléans to receive certain messages for Berlin. She showed me her two children: the eldest, the Comte de Paris, is the very image of his grandfather, the King, though he is shy and delicate; the second is like his mother and seems to be livelier than his brother.

Paris, May 3, 1841.—The weather has grown cooler in consequence of a storm during the night, which fortunately did not break soon enough to disturb the fireworks and the illuminations in honour of the baptism of the young prince. [22] The ceremony at Notre Dame passed off very well and was entirely noble and dignified. The little Prince was delightful. Every one noticed the admirable bearing of the Duchesse d'Orléans, her reverent bows and the care with which she crossed herself after entering the church. I should like to have gone, and the kindness of Madame Adélaïde had given me an excellent opportunity, but I was anxious about my daughter and did not go, as I did not wish to miss the doctor's visit. [23]

Paris, May 5, 1841.—M. Bresson, who came to say good-bye yesterday, seems destined to return to Madrid and is by no means pleased at the prospect. He evidently expected to go to Vienna. The King proposes to send Montebello to that capital, but M. Guizot, who is influenced by Madame de Lieven, wishes Vienna to be given to M. de Flahaut. Rumours are in wide circulation that Madame de Lieven is making the appointments to ambassadorial posts, and there is a violent outcry against her in the French diplomatic body.

Pauline is better, but not well enough to accompany me to Berlin. I am sorry to leave her, and the long journey weighs upon my mind. It is real isolation. I shall be truly glad when I find myself once more in Touraine; I feel that my real home is there, where I have my strongest interests, duties and a useful centre of work. Anywhere else I exist but do not put out roots.

Metz, May 6, 1841.—I am now far from Paris and regret nothing in it except my daughter, and have no great hopes that my journey will be a relaxation. I dread the annoyance of it and the wearing life of high roads and inns.

Mannheim, May 8, 1841.—I left Metz at midday, after a good rest. I then came on here without stopping, arriving at ten o'clock in the morning. I was not searched at the frontier, but a terrible storm in the night almost made me lose courage. However, I literally made head against the storm, and am now at Mannheim. The inevitable Schreckenstein was waiting for me and wished to take me to the castle where a room was ready for me. I declined, and think that I pleased others as much as myself by so doing. After dressing I called upon the Grand Duchess Stephanie who had placed a carriage at my disposal. She looks better than she did at Umkirch when she was suffering from her terrible illness, but she can hardly move her left arm and remains a little lame. It is whispered that what she considers to be rheumatism is something much more serious; the doctors wish to send her to Wildbad; she talks quite as usual. Princess Marie has grown rather heavy and is somewhat faded, not to any great extent, but there is no prospect that she will marry.

I called upon Baroness Sturmfeder, who is outwardly a great lady, and upon old Walsch, who was beguiling her old age with the Charivari, the Wasps and the Ready Made News, lampoons which are now fashionable; from such sources she derives her ideas and her kindly sentiments. After leaving the castle I was driven to the Duchess Bernard of Saxe Weimar whom I had seen in England; her husband is the loving and beloved uncle of the Duchess d'Orléans. This was a mark of respect upon my part, the more advisable as I am bound to meet them before long at dinner at the castle. I have now returned and am resting until dinner-time, which is at half-past four.

Since leaving Paris I have been reading a great deal, first a novel by Bulwer, Night and Morning; it is not uninteresting, but not equal to the early works of the same writer; then a short but delightful book, The Letters of the Princesse de Condé, sister of the last Duc de Bourbon, who died in the Temple as a nun. These letters were written in her youth to one who is still living, and of whom she was very fond, and quite unselfishly so. This was M. Ballanche, the friend of Madame Récamier, who published the letters without appearing as the hero of them. They are authentic, marked by simplicity, tenderness and loftiness of thought, full of devotion, delicacy, sentiment, reason and courage, and written at a time and in a society when the author, her style and her sentiments were quite exceptional. The book is most delightful. [24] Finally I have a small work by Lord Jocelyn, now the husband of Fanny Cowper, concerning the English campaign in China. I was attracted by the author's name, but found the book quite uninteresting.

Mannheim, May 9, 1841.—Yesterday I dined with the Grand Duchess, who afterwards showed me over the castle, which I pretended to see for the first time. She told me so many things that I can hardly remember any of them. One point has remained in my mind, the fact that Princess Sophia of Würtemberg, who married the Hereditary Prince of the Low Countries, is on very bad terms with her mother-in-law, who will not even see her son's children. This Queen has introduced the strictest etiquette and an infinite variety of Court dress.

I also learnt that the King of Prussia had passed a law making divorce very difficult in his states. It certainly was scandalously easy to procure; but the Grand Duchess, who was expecting the divorce of Prince Frederick of Prussia, was greatly vexed by this disappointment. The fact is that poor Prince Frederick, whose wife is mad, ought to be provided with some means of breaking so sad a tie. The first use he would make of an opportunity would be to marry Princess Marie.

The Duchess of Weimar told me that her sister, the Dowager Queen of England, [25] had lost the use of one of her lungs and that the other was very delicate. The sight of the Duchess of Weimar reminded me of London, Windsor and the best time of my life. Her likeness to her sister, which extends even to her voice, though this was not their best feature, quite overcame me, as it reminded me of those years that are now so far away.

Mannheim, May 10, 1841.—I am about to leave Mannheim after a very kind reception. The poor Grand Duchess constantly talks of her death, though this does not prevent her making many plans. I wish she could realise her idea of marrying her daughter. She took me for a drive yesterday along a pretty part of the bank of the Rhine. A port has been made at Mannheim which attracts commerce and brings some life to this town where life has long been dormant. On the whole, I think the town preferable to Carlsruhe. I had a letter from my son-in-law written the day after my departure from Paris. Pauline was going on fairly well, though her nerves were still shaken and she was very weak. He also says: "At the Prince's baptism the register was signed in the following order: the King and his family, then the Cardinals, the President and officials of the Chamber of Peers, then the President of the Chamber of Deputies. Then came the turn of M. de Salvandy, the vice-president, who publicly refused to sign on the ground that the Chamber of Deputies should not be represented as inferior to the Cardinals. He wishes to make a public matter of it, which will produce a bad effect, the more so as the Chamber, with reference to the law concerning secondary education, showed itself quite unfavourable to the religious reaction which is obviously in progress; moreover, such susceptibility might easily cause an unpleasant outburst.

Gelnhausen, May 11, 1841.—I travelled faster than I had thought possible, and instead of sleeping at Frankfort as I had intended I went ten leagues further, and am now lodged in a little inn which at any rate is clean; this will allow me to reach Gotha to-morrow without spending part of the night in my carriage. I had lunch at Darmstadt. Frankfort aroused many memories as I passed through it, for it is a town that I have crossed at different times, and in very different circumstances. The first of these was the most important, for at Frankfort I was married. Afterwards I saw my good friend Labouchère there for the first time; he has often reminded me of the incident since.

The Grand Duchess Stephanie has given me a book which has just been published at Stuttgart; obviously the publication was inspired by Austria, for the documents which the book contains seem to me to come from Vienna, and probably from the study of Prince Metternich or its neighbourhood. This little volume contains notes in French by Gentz upon several political questions, all treated in a spirit of great opposition to France. Their publication at this moment and the editor's preface seem to me to show that they have been produced with a purpose. The most interesting part of the book to me is the journal of Gentz kept during his stay at the Prussian headquarters the week before the battle of Jena. He was a close observer and a lively writer, and the result is quite interesting. There are also commentaries upon a correspondence between Mr. Fox and M. de Talleyrand at the time when the peace of Amiens was broken. The book can certainly offer several forms of attraction.

Gotha, May 12, 1841.—I had proposed to arrive here yesterday evening but the outskirts of Fulda and Eisenach are so complicated that I had to sleep at Eisenach, where I naturally dreamt of St. Elizabeth. I am staying here for a few hours to see the Dowager Duchess who was a great favourite of my mother and was quite vexed with me last year because I left Germany without paying her a visit here. Apart from this, my monotonous travels are proceeding without incident and in fairly fine weather.

Wittenberg, May 13, 1841.—The Dowager Duchess of Gotha received me with the utmost kindness, asked me to dinner and hurriedly invited five or six people from the town who had known me in my youth. She dines at three o'clock and at six o'clock I asked leave to continue my journey. I would have stayed longer if the poor duchess had not grown so deaf that the honour of replying to her questions was literally exhausting. I preferred to spend the night in my carriage, for if I had slept at Gotha, I should certainly have had to spend the evening at the Castle. I am therefore going to take my rest here that I may not reach Berlin entirely exhausted. I have borne the journey very well so far and my little halt at Mannheim was a pleasant interruption to the monotony of my life on wheels.

For the last two days I have been reading a life of Queen Blanche of Castile by a certain lady whose work was well reviewed; the facts are interesting but the style is poor and the tone of the work is very anti-Catholic. While I am reading I cannot help conducting a silent course of refutation against the author; silence is very appropriate here at Wittenberg, the old cradle of the Reformation. From the convent of the Augustine monks, the ruins of which are now before my eyes, Luther launched his first firebrand, and he was buried in the church by the side of the inn.

Berlin, May 15, 1841.—I arrived here yesterday evening but have seen no one yet except my business man, Herr von Wolff. At midday I called upon the Countess of Reede, the Queen's chief lady and an old friend of my mother, and then upon the chief lady of the Princess of Prussia, to deliver the numerous parcels which the Duchesse d'Orléans had asked me to take to this Princess. I then went to the Werthers, to Countess Pauline Neale and Madame de Perponcher and I found no one at home.

Berlin, May 16, 1841.—No one would guess who gave me his arm to the mass from which I have just come. It was Peter von Arenberg who has come to ask that his property on the right bank of the Rhine should be made an hereditary fief for one of his sons.

Berlin, May 17, 1841.—To-day is a day of sad and grievous memories, being the third anniversary of the death of our dear M. de Talleyrand. It is a day which always arouses many recollections and I am sure that these will not be without their influence upon others. I wish I could spend it in quiet thought, but that is impossible here.

Yesterday was an unusually busy day for me and I am quite wearied. Mass was followed by the necessary calls upon the great ladies of the country; dinner with the Wolffs; tea with Princess William, the King's aunt; a prima sera with the Radziwills; while I spent the latter part of the evening with the old Prince of Wittgenstein. Besides all this I had a long call from Humboldt who is starting for Paris in a few days. It was impossible to breathe. The worst part of it is that everything here begins so early and that the day is divided in an unusual and very disagreeable manner.

Berlin, May 18, 1841.—Yesterday I dined with the King and Queen who had come to spend a few hours in town. They were both most kind and pleasant. I saw Prince Frederick arrive from Dusseldorf, who is also one of the old acquaintances of my youth. He still looks surprisingly young. His wife is expected here; she seems to have become totally insane.

I heard yesterday, while dining with the King, that one of the unfortunate Infantas of Spain whom their mother so cruelly placed in a convent, had escaped with a Polish refugee, but had been caught at Brussels; a fine escapade for a princess! It seems impossible to repress Spanish blood at the age of twenty. The King also said that Espartero had been proclaimed sole regent and dictator in Spain.

Berlin, May 20, 1841 (Ascension Day).—Yesterday I went from Berlin to Potsdam by the first train. The King had asked me to be present at a great parade. It was a fine spectacle. The weather was propitious, the troops splendid, and the music magnificent, but the day was somewhat fatiguing.

The day before yesterday I dined with the Princess of Prussia and in the evening I went to a rout given by Countess Nostitz, the sister of Count Hatzfeldt. All that I have to do is to go about, to show good temper, kindliness and gratitude for my many kind receptions; at the same time, when I can return to my idle life I shall be delighted.

Berlin, May 21, 1841.—There is a great monotony about life here; dinners with princes, etc. Yesterday I dined with Princess Charles, after spending an hour with the Princess of Prussia, whose conversation is lofty and serious. In the evening I spent some time by the arm-chair of the old Countess of Reede and with her daughter Perponcher. I was then obliged to show myself at the Werthers, who are at home on Thursdays.

Berlin, May 22, 1841.—Yesterday evening I went to the Wolffs to meet various learned men, artists and literary people. At Berlin the upper-middle-class society provides the pleasantest opportunities for conversation.

The present King has great ideas for adorning his capital, and is giving a remarkable stimulus to Art.

Life proceeds much as usual. Yesterday I dined with Princess William the aunt, and spent the first part of the evening with the Princess of Prussia and the latter part of it with Madame de Perponcher, where a distinguished artist, Hensel, showed us his sketch-book, which was full of strange portraits. The heat was unusual.

Princess Frederick of Dusseldorf, who is not quite right in her head at times, was dining with Princess William. She must have been rather pretty, and there is nothing unusual about her.

Pauline writes from Paris that she is going to Geneva for change of air and to try her strength, and that if she feels better, she will travel through Bavaria and meet me at Vienna.

I am returning this morning to Potsdam, where I have promised to spend the day, and shall come back to-morrow. How pleasant it would be to find myself once more in my little manor house at Touraine.

Berlin, May 24, 1841.—As the evening party at Potsdam was over at ten o'clock, I was able to return here in the evening by the last train, after spending the day with the Queen. She improves greatly upon close acquaintance, as is usually the case with persons who are simple and somewhat reserved. We had a pleasant drive in the evening, and an interesting conversation at tea-time under the portico of the Charlottenhof, when the King talked much upon the state of Art in Germany.

Berlin, May 25, 1841.—Yesterday I went to the manœuvres with the Princess of Prussia, her young son and Princess Charles. The King's staff was most brilliant, our position was excellent, the weather was perfect, and the sight of the troops, of the spectators who had come from the town in crowds, of the ladies' carriages, and in short of the whole gathering, made the subject worthy of the brush of Horace Vernet; nor did the business last long, an hour and not more. The Princess of Prussia took me back to lunch with her and kept me talking almost until dinner-time. Madame Perponcher came to fetch me to dine near her mother's chair, as her gout still keeps her somewhat of a prisoner. I then went to the Radziwills to the jubilee festival of the Academy of Singing. The Academy is composed of four hundred and fifty members, amateurs of every class: by their rules they are not allowed to use any instrument but a piano and may perform only sacred music. The institution thus resembles the Ancient Music at London, but the performance here was infinitely better, and was marked by a unity, an accuracy and a majesty truly remarkable. None but Germans could thus sing the most complicated fugues without the help of an orchestra and with such tremendous tone.

I then went to an evening reception given by the Countess Neale, where Lord William Russell told me that his Ministry had suffered a heavy defeat in Parliament, but he did not seem to think they would resign. He told me that poor Mitford, whom I recently met unexpectedly as he was leaving the diligence at Fulda to meet his wife at Wiesbaden, found that she had deserted him with Francis Molyneux of all people. She is not very young or very beautiful, and she has several children.

My son, Valençay, writes that the races at Chantilly were most brilliant and fashionable. He stayed at the Château, and is loud in his praises. He says that the Infanta who was caught and brought back, is now staying with Madame Duchâtel, the wife of the Minister of the Interior, as she positively refuses to return to her mother, whom she fears would beat her. She persists in saying that she married the Pole, but refuses to disclose the name of the priest who married them.

Berlin, May 26, 1841.—The old King of the Low Countries, who is here incognito as the Comte de Nassau, is in very bad health, and is said to be attacked by senile gangrene. His wife, [26] who is very kindly treated by the Prussian Royal Family, takes great care of the King who cannot do without her for a moment. She never leaves his side. People say that she is really very bored and disgusted by this illustrious marriage which Holland will not recognise in spite of the old King's fury. The refusal to give recognition in Holland is based upon the fact that the marriage banns were not published, nor did any one venture to publish them, as the most violent public demonstrations were feared.

Yesterday morning I accompanied the Wolffs and Herr von Olfers, the Director of the School of Fine Arts, to the studio of Wichmann, to whom I had given an order to copy a charming model that I had seen of a nymph drawing water. It will be finished in a year.

The Prince of Prussia paid me a long and interesting visit. He talked a great deal about the state of the country and the difficulty of government. Difficulties there certainly are, but there is also here a solid basis on which to rest.

Berlin, May 28, 1841.—Yesterday morning was spent with Herr von Wolff discussing business. Our conversation was interrupted by the Court High Marshal, who brought me a very touching present from the King. It is a copy in iron of a statue which I had admired last year at Charlottenhof; a young faun upon a pillar in the midst of a basin pouring water out of an urn upon which he is crouched. The whole work is six feet high and very pretty. The King told me that he would ask me to have it placed upon one of the terraces of Rochecotte, which shall certainly be done.

I dined with Princess Albert. Her father is better, and she is starting with him shortly for Silesia. Her husband wearied me, and she herself is like a colt broken loose. In fact the whole household was not to my taste. Herr and Frau von Redern, who were also dining there, took me to their box to hear Seidelmann in the part of the Jew. [27] He is now the fashionable actor, but he compares unfavourably with my recollections of Iffland.

Berlin, May 30, 1841.—The Radziwills most kindly arranged a musical matinée at their house in a pretty vaulted room opening on to their splendid garden. Goethe's Faust was performed which had been set to music by the late Prince Radziwill, the father of the present generation. Devrient, the first tragedian from the Berlin theatre, declaimed certain passages to musical accompaniments, and a large body from the Conservatoire gave the choruses. The general effect was excellent and gave me real pleasure. [28]

Berlin, May 31, 1841.—I propose to leave here to-morrow for Dresden and to proceed thence to Vienna.

Yesterday I went to the High Mass of Pentecost which was very well performed and sung in the Catholic church, but the church was so crowded and the heat so suffocating that I thought I should be ill. However, on leaving Mass I had to appear at the farewell audiences of the Princess of Prussia and of Princess Charles, and then to dine with an old friend. While we were at table I received an invitation to go to tea at Schönhausen, the summer residence of the King, two leagues from Berlin. I was fortunately able to reach Schönhausen in time, and after tea I stayed on to supper which was served in the open air under a verandah lighted by lamps. Apart from the Royal Family and the officials on duty there were the Duke and Duchess of Leuchtenberg, Herr von Arenberg, myself, Rauch, Thorwaldsen and the chief director of the museum, Herr von Olfers. It was an agreeable and interesting party. Thorwaldsen has a fine head resembling that of Cuvier, but he wears his hair in a strange manner, long white locks falling over his shoulders. I prefer the features of Rauch which are better proportioned, and in my opinion nobler and simpler. The Duchess Marie of Leuchtenberg is extremely like her father, the Emperor Nicholas, though with a very different expression: her head is classical in form, but too long for her body which is small; she is as white as a lily, but her finical and fantastic manners did not charm me. The Queen had mentioned me to her, and the King introduced me to the Duke of Leuchtenberg, who is strikingly like his sister, the Duchess of Braganza, though his general appearance is common and does not justify the marriage he has made. At Schönhausen I paid my last farewells.

Dresden, June 2, 1841.—The day before yesterday I left Berlin overwhelmed and spoilt with kindness, but wearied by the dreadful heat. The Baron von Werther whom I saw on my last day at Berlin, told me he feared that M. Bresson had not been entirely happy during the last years of his stay; that his speech had caused much displeasure and inspired great distrust; that he was ill-informed if he thought the contrary; and that all his reliable sources of information had been closed since the death of the old King. The Princess of Prussia and Madame Perponcher spoke to the same effect. I also learnt that when the treaty of July 15 was made known here, M. Bresson committed an inconceivable outburst, drove down the Unter den Linden and shouted war in the wildest manner. I am really sorry that he should re-enter upon a position that he has spoilt.

Dresden, June 3, 1841.—Yesterday evening I went to the theatre to see the new auditorium which has a great reputation throughout Germany. It is, in fact, of considerable size, pretty and well decorated. The boxes are convenient, the seats comfortable and there is an air of grandeur about the whole. The decorations are fresh, the costumes brilliant and the orchestra good, but the singers so bad that I could only stay for half an hour.

Prague, June 5, 1841.—Prague is not without interest for me. I there spent the year of mourning for my father with my mother and sisters and afterwards revisited the town upon two occasions shortly after the Congress of Vienna. I have been spending to-day there and think I have driven round to every object of interest: the chief churches, the tomb of Tycho Brahé and his observatory; all the offerings in honour of St. John Nepomucenos, his relics, the old castle, the Calvary from whence Prague is to be seen as a panorama; Wallenstein's war horse, which has been stuffed, and the various traces of the Hussite war and of the Thirty Years War; the bombs thrown by Frederick II.; the chapel where Charles X. prayed twice a day and which was restored by him, bears the arms of France and of Navarre. Prague, like Nuremburg, is one of the oldest towns in Germany: the latter may be more interesting to artists, but the former is more attractive to the archaeologist, and I am one of the latter class. Prague contains sixteen convents, every class of monk is to be found there, and though upon a much larger scale it reminds me of Friburg in Switzerland. Especially characteristic are the large residences, almost all kept by the great Bohemian lords who own them and who are generally deserting Prague in favour of Vienna. I was curious enough to look in at the theatre of the Leopold Stadt to see a local farce played by a Vienna company. The auditorium which was by no means beautiful, was crowded and the laughter was loud and long; I stayed only a short time as it was too hot and the Vienna lazzi are not to my taste. I do not understand them.

Vienna, June 8, 1841.—I had a most unpleasant journey from Prague hither. The weather had broken: it was cold, stormy, and damp; I spent the first night in my carriage and the second in a small inn, eventually arriving here at three o'clock this afternoon. I am staying in rooms which my sisters had engaged for me. I have already seen my quondam brother-in-law, the Count of Schulenburg, whom I shall make my major-domo, for which position he is exactly suited.

It is strange to be once more at Vienna. [29] The whole of my destiny is contained in the name of this city, and here my life of devotion to M. de Talleyrand began and that strange and unusual association was formed which could only be broken by death, though broken is the wrong word; I should have said interrupted, for I have constantly felt during the past year that we shall meet elsewhere. At Vienna I entered upon that troublesome and attractive life of publicity which rather wearies than flatters me. I found much amusement here and many occasions for tears: my life became complicated and I was involved in the storms which have so long roared about me. Of the many who turned my head and provided me with amusement and excitement, none remain. Old and young, men and women, all have disappeared; indeed the whole world has undergone two changes since that time. My poor sister with whom I was to live, is also dead. Prince Metternich alone remains; he has sent me very pleasant messages and I shall probably see him to-morrow.

I doubt if I shall sleep to-night; I am greatly disturbed by the ghosts which haunt these scenes and which all speak with one voice of the vanity of the things of this world.

Vienna, June 10, 1841.—The choice of M. de Flahaut as French ambassador here, which recent news from Paris represents as increasingly possible, has aroused general dissatisfaction. Madame de Flahaut wrote to Lord Beauvale, the English ambassador, to try and disarm this opposition and said that people need not be afraid of her husband's appointment as she would not be able to follow him for a long time. This is certainly an unusual method of seeking popularity.

I went back to my house yesterday at two o'clock in the afternoon to await Prince Metternich who had sent word to say that he would come at that time. He kept his appointment and I did not find him greatly changed. It is a real pleasure to see him again and to find him in possession of all his freshness of mind, his power of judgment, his wide knowledge of men and affairs and his genial kindness to myself which has never varied. He stayed for two hours upon which I look back with great pleasure. As a rule he never pays personal visits. His wife sent to say that she would have come if she had not been afraid of wearying me, as she was extremely anxious to make my acquaintance. No one could have been kinder; I am dining with them to-day in their suburban villa where they are spending the spring.

I hear that Schlegel, the platonic admirer of Madame de Staël, is at Berlin to help in the publication of the works of Frederick the Great. M. Thiers was expected there and I am glad to have missed him. It has been decided to receive him as a member of the Academy and as a historian, but not as a politician and certainly not as a statesman. Meanwhile M. Guizot seems to be taking walks with the Princess de Lieven at nine o'clock in the morning in the gardens of the Tuileries, which is their mode of observing nature.

I found that Marshal Marmont had called when I came home yesterday evening. I had seen him from a distance at the opera.

Vienna, June 11, 1841.—Yesterday I dined with Prince Metternich. He has a pretty house like a small edition of Neuilly, and has collected many artistic objects which are tastefully interspersed with fine flowers and many other things without any appearance of overcrowding. There were at dinner, apart from the master and mistress of the house, only the unmarried daughter of his first marriage, my sisters, the Louis Saint-Aulaire, husband and wife, and the two Herren von Hügel, who are constant visitors at the house. Princess Metternich is very pretty, quite natural and attractive, an original character; and as she was kind enough to be anxious to please me, she naturally succeeded without difficulty. After dinner I called upon some members of the Hohenzollern family who are here, and finally went to tea with an old friend of my sisters'. There were a dozen people present who were all unknown to me apart from Prince Windisch-Graetz, a Count O'Donnel, a survivor of the Hotel de Ligne, and Marshal Marmont, who did not seem to have changed.

Vienna, June 12, 1841.—Yesterday morning I went with my sisters to call upon their great friend Princess Amelia of Sweden, at whose house I met her sister, the Grand Duchess of Oldenberg; she is going to Munich with her husband to see the Queen of Greece, who has come there in the course of a tour. I then called upon a Polish lady whom I had known long ago at the house of Princess Tyszkiewicz at Paris, whose niece she was. She was then called Madame Sobánska and enjoyed a certain reputation. I found her considerably changed; she is a person of wit and some beauty, but is rather spiteful and a gossip—a character to be feared. I had hardly returned from these calls when Marshal Marmont came in. He talked a great deal of his anxiety to return to France, but I think pecuniary rather than political reasons are the hindrance. He spends his life here at the French Embassy.

Vienna, June 14, 1841.—Yesterday I went to hear mass at the Church of the Capuchins, with the intention of afterwards seeing Father Francis, who was with my sister in her last moments. I was anxious to learn from him some details on the subject of religion which my other sisters could not give me. I found him a pleasant and clever man, who seemed to conceal beneath his mendicant friar's dress a considerable knowledge of the world and a considerable power of making his way in it. He is said to be the director here of all whose consciences are divided between God and the world, a difficult task in which success is not easy.

Vienna, June 15, 1841.—Louis de Sainte-Aulaire came to see me yesterday morning. He told me that the illness of Marshal Soult to which the newspapers refer, is not so much connected with the law concerning recruiting, against which the Duc d'Orléans publicly voted, as due to an outbreak of paternal rage. He regards the nomination of M. de Flahaut to Vienna as a slight upon his son; he threatened to resign, and it is not yet known whether M. de Flahaut will have the honour of dislocating the Cabinet or whether he will be obliged to abandon Vienna. M. Bresson has started from Paris for Berlin in a very bad temper.

Vienna, June 16, 1841.—Yesterday I had a letter from Madame de Lieven from Paris; she writes as follows: "Marshal Soult has caused a small municipal crisis. The Duc d'Orléans voted against him upon the recruiting law: the Marshal's views were rejected and he was extremely angry; the result being a fit of palpitations with a possibility of an apoplectic stroke; hence the threat to resign. It is very doubtful whether he can be appeased, and his wife is most anxious about his health. It is a great perplexity, as the two positions which he occupied will have to be filled. M. Guizot has resolved not to become President of the Council; however, there is some hope that the Marshal will remain in office. In England there is a far more serious crisis. Parliament will be probably be dissolved to-morrow, but the electoral outlook is doubtful. Possibly a House of Commons may be returned similar to the House now to be dissolved, in which case it will be impossible for any one to govern the country. Meanwhile much agitation prevails. The Eastern Question is by no means settled; on the contrary, Turkey grows daily more disturbed.

"Lady Jersey is anxious for her daughter to marry Nicholas Esterhazy. The young people are extremely fond of one another. Paul Esterhazy is trying to get out of the matter which is difficult.

"The Prince de Joinville was most warmly received at the Hague. The King and Queen overwhelmed him with marks of violence. What impression will this make at St. Petersburg?

"M. de Flahaut has been nominated as Ambassador to Vienna. The proposal has been accepted but with no great warmth. In any case there can be no further changes or nominations, for the London post remains vacant, as Lord Palmerston will not conclude the eastern problem, and nothing will be done until Sainte Aulaire has gone to London."

Vienna, June 17, 1841.—Charles de Talleyrand came yesterday to tell me the latest news from Paris. Marshal Soult's quarrel has been settled: he will remain in office, and his son-in-law will go to Rome as ambassador; the Marshal is to receive 600,000 francs in payment of some loan which he professes to have made to the State. The Turko-Egyptian business is settled: the act will be ratified and sent to Alexandria, and the five Courts will meet at London if they have not already come to an agreement.

Vienna, June 18, 1841.—Yesterday evening I went to hear a German tragedy and then to tea with Prince Metternich. At the end of the evening the Prince began to talk over a round table, and was most kind and interesting. Except on Sundays when they are at home he sees very little society, and his house in my opinion is the pleasanter in consequence. Marshal Marmont is there every day.

Vienna, June 19, 1841.—Yesterday I went with my sisters to visit the Imperial Picture Gallery. I am surprised that it is not better known, for it contains some most beautiful works. It lies outside the town in a palace called the Belvedere, which was built by Prince Eugène of Savoy. The interior is very handsome.

I dined at the house of Princess Paul Esterhazy and with Prince and Princess Metternich and their daughter, Prince Wenzel, Lichtenstein, Schulenburg, Lord Rokeby, Count Haugwitz and Baron von Hügel. Princess Esterhazy was very amusing with her fear of Lady Jersey as mother-in-law. The marriage, however, has not been definitely settled.

Vienna, June 21, 1841.—I am delighted to hear that you like Fenelon's Letters. [30] They explain everything in a form which illustrates the faithful and courageous devotion paid to this kindly and holy Archbishop by the courtiers of the great King. He is able to give a charm and a grandeur to religion, to make it at once simple and attractive by its loftiness. If to read the story with his intercourse with his friends does not produce conversion, at any rate no one can fail to derive from it a love of goodness, of beauty, and a desire to lead a better life as a prelude to a good death.

The History of Port Royal by Sainte-Beuve is certainly interesting. It is a great subject, but treated in a style which is neither sufficiently serious nor simple, and cannot worthily represent the austere and imposing figures of Jansenism.

Vienna, June 25, 1841.—I propose to start next Wednesday and from Prague to take the road which will bring me back to my nieces in Saxony; from thence I shall go by Lusatia to upper Silesia to see my sister Hohenzollern who will be there at that time, and shall afterwards go to my own property at Wartenberg where I hope to be on July 26.

Vienna, June 26, 1841.—Yesterday I dined with Prince Metternich; only the family were present. I went on to the theatre and afterwards to the Volksgarten, a kind of Tivoli, where Strauss plays his waltzes, where Styrians sing and all the good or bad society of Vienna meets during this season. My sisters who were with me, then took me to their house where we had tea.

Lord Palmerston rouses much discontent as he continually raises some new obstacle when the Egyptian question is at the point of conclusion. His conduct is strangely tactless. All kinds of conjectures are in the air and much exasperation was displayed where I was dining yesterday.

Vienna, June 28, 1841.—The weather here yesterday was most remarkable: after midday a violent wind arose which raised clouds of dust, completely shrouding the town and suburbs; the burning wind was a real sirocco which withered and exhausted every one.

I went to mass at the Capuchin church to say goodbye to Father Francis who gave me his blessing. I then returned home to wait for Marshal Marmont who had asked permission to read me forty pages from the manuscript of his memoirs which he has devoted to justifying his conduct during July 1830. I was unable to refuse. I learnt nothing particularly fresh, as I knew all the remarkable facts which clearly prove that the imbecility of the Government was incomparable and that the Marshal was very unfortunate in being called to conduct a business both ill-devised and ill-prepared; so he needed no justification in my eyes, but I was interested to hear full details of the scene with the Dauphin, of which I knew nothing and the words and gestures of which pass the powers of imagination. [31] The reading was interrupted by various reflections and was further prolonged for the reason that the Marshal reads slowly and continually stammers and hums and haws. His delivery is extremely laboured.

I then went with my brother-in-law, Schulenberg, to dine with the Countess Nandine Karolyi at Hitzinger, a village near Schönbrunn. I was by no means anxious to go but as she had been so kind as to ask me, I could not refuse. She lives in one half of a charming cottage which belongs to Charles von Hügel, the traveller whose infatuation for Princess Metternich drove him to spend seven years in the East. On his return he built this house and has filled it with curiosities from India. He lives in one half of the house and Nandine in the other. It is prettily situated, surrounded with flowers and looks quite English. I was by no means delighted with the dinner. The mistress of the house is eccentric, an exaggeration of the Vienna type, and the gentlemen about her corresponded. I went away as soon as possible and spent an hour in farewell talk with Princess Louise of Schönburg.

Vienna, June 29, 1841.—Yesterday at night-fall I went with my sisters, Schulenberg and Count Haugwitz to the Volksgarten where the whole of Vienna does its best to enjoy the dew amid clouds of tobacco smoke. Fireworks and Strauss were the amusements provided. One positive refreshment was the ices, of which an enormous quantity seemed to be consumed. The population of Vienna are quiet, well-dressed, entirely respectable and very mixed, for in these amusements the aristocracy take part. There was no sign of a policeman, nor were any needed.

Vienna, June 30, 1841.—I am leaving Vienna this evening. The heat continues to be extreme and will make my journey very unpleasant. I shall not send off this letter until I reach Dresden; correspondence is more certain outside the Austrian states. I do not mind people reading my expressions of affections, but my impressions and opinions are another matter. I trust therefore that I have been prudent in this respect during my stay here.

Tabor, July 1, 1841.—I left Vienna yesterday at seven o'clock in the evening. In the afternoon I had a visit from Prince Metternich. He was kind and confidential, and the idea that he has deteriorated is quite wrong. Perhaps he expresses himself more slowly and vaguely than he used to do, but his ideas are in no way confused, his opinions are firm and decided, he remains moderate and gentle in temper, and in short is entirely himself. He strongly advised me to return by way of Johannisberg, whither he will go from Königswart in the month of August and stay until September. His wife urged me to do the same and showed me the utmost kindness. Her beauty strongly appeals to me, though it is a style often spoilt by harshness of voice, common manners or vulgar language. She is generally disliked at Vienna to my astonishment, for I think she is good-hearted though unpolished. Several people kindly came to say good-bye at the last moment. My sisters, with Schulenburg and Count Maurice Esterhazy, who is the smallest and liveliest of the family, accompanied me two leagues beyond Vienna, where my travelling carriage was waiting for me. Count Esterhazy is the same who was at Paris; he was afterwards attached to the Austrian embassy at Berlin, where I last saw him. This post he left a few days before I came to Vienna, as he is going to Italy, where his mother is now lying ill. He is a close friend of my sisters', somewhat malicious like all very small men, but a pleasant talker and far more civilised and in better taste than people generally are at Vienna, especially the men, who are usually very ignorant. On the whole I prefer Berlin to Vienna society. At Vienna people are richer and more high and mighty and their naturalness is affected: at Berlin I admit there is more affectation, but there is much more culture and intellectualism. Life at Vienna is extremely free and easy: people do anything they please without being regarded as eccentric, but though no one is surprised at his neighbour's doings slander is as commonly current as elsewhere, and I am ready to assert that a false good nature of a very dangerous kind is prevalent. At Berlin life is more formal and more attention is paid to a certain decorum: the consequence is some stiffness, but words are more carefully weighed, and as there is less reason for backbiting there is more real kindliness. Personally I have nothing but praise for the hospitality of either town and remain entirely grateful to them both. I was especially struck at Vienna by the manner in which men and women commonly address one another by their baptismal names; however slight acquaintanceship is, provided people belong to the same clique, family names disappear, and to use them is thought a mark of bad taste. Women are constantly kissing one another and invariably upon the lips, which I think horrible. Men continually kiss ladies' hands, and at first sight society seems to be composed of brothers and sisters. Perhaps twenty people in speaking to me or in reference to me would say "Dorothea;" those less familiar would say "Duchess Dorothea;" the most formal would use the term "dear Duchess," but no one would say "Madame" or "Madame la Duchesse." I am astonished that anything remains of my hands; and my cheeks, which I try to substitute for my lips, have suffered a perfect martyrdom. The coquetry of the women at Vienna is obvious, nor is any attempt made to disguise it, though the churches are full and the confessionals besieged; but there is no appearance of real devotion, and the sincere and active faith of the Royal Family has no influence upon society, which displays its independence by habitual opposition to the Court.