Part 8 (1/2)
At this point the whole audience rose spontaneously; the cries, the tears, the acclamations were thrilling; and, as Madame de Lieven said: ”The Duke of Wellington may die to-day, and I may depart in peace to-morrow, for I have been present at the most marvellous scene that there has been during the twenty-two years that I have spent in England.”
_London, June 14, 1834._--A German _improvisatore_ named Langsward has been recommended to me by Madame de Dolomieu. I had to gather together in his honour all the people here (few enough) who know a little German. The entertainment was not bad. There were _bouts rimes_, which he filled up very creditably; some verses about Inez de Castro; and, later on, a prose piece--a scene of lower-cla.s.s Viennese life--which showed real verve and talent. The talent for poetic improvisation almost always indicates faculties of an unusual order. This is the case even with Southern people, whose language is naturally very harmonious. Poetic inspiration is a proportionately greater achievement in the less flexible accents of Northern countries. Still _improvisatori_, even Sgricci, have always seemed to me more or less frigid or more or less absurd. Their enthusiasm is overdone and false; the close rooms in which they are confined inspire neither the poet nor his audience. Nothing in them or their surroundings is in the key of poetry. I think that if you are to produce an enthusiasm which will really gain every one you must have a landscape for your stage, the sun to light you, a rock for seat, a lyre for accompaniment, for your subject great and immediate events, and a whole nation for audience. Corinna if you like, Homer above all! But a gentleman in a dress-coat in a little London drawing-room, posturing before a few women who are trying to get away to a ball, and a few men, of whom half are thinking of the Belgian protocols and the other half of Ascot races, can never be more than a trifling little rhyming doll who is tedious and quite out of place.
Madame de Lieven showed me yesterday a letter from M. de Nesselrode, in which he complains of the ill-will and the troublesome, teasing manner of Lord Ponsonby, who, he adds, is goading the poor Divan to fury. Admiral Roussin appears charming by comparison.
Dom Miguel has really embarked, and is going to Genoa.
_London, June 15, 1834._--Dom Pedro is hardly relieved of his brother's presence and free of the supervision of the Cortes, and he has already begun to destroy convents, monks, and nuns. I do not know whether this, too, will excite admiration at Holland House, but to me it seems a piece of impious folly which may well bring speedy repentance in its train.
The Rothschilds, who are by way of knowing everything, have been to M.
de Talleyrand to say that the Marquis de Miraflores has just left for Portsmouth to take money to Don Carlos on condition of his signing guarantees similar to those given by Dom Miguel.
M. Bignon, the day he dined at Lord Palmerston's, when M. de Talleyrand was there, said to the latter that he wished to have a word with him, and with a mysterious and confidential air, added: ”Now that I have dined with Lord Palmerston they can no longer say at Paris that I can't be Minister.” This curious piece of reasoning was followed by a series of indiscreet criticisms of the French Cabinet and expressions of surprise that overtures of the same kind had not been made to M. de Talleyrand by M. Dupin. Nothing a.s.suredly can be more presumptuous than this spirit, whether it takes the supple and cringing form of M. Bignon or the didactic and crude shape of M.
Dupin.
_London, June 16, 1834._--_A propos_ of M. Dupin, when his mother died some time ago, at Clamecy en Nivernais, he had cut on her tomb, ”_Here lies the mother of the three Dupins._”
There are some good stories here of him and the amiable Piron, his cicerone. Mr. Ellice one day took them both to see some sight or other in London. In the carriage M. Dupin unfolded a large-checked pocket handkerchief, very vulgar in design, and holding it some distance from his face, spat into it, aiming very precisely at the middle of the handkerchief. On this M. Piron said to him aloud, with a very knowing air, ”Sir, in this country one does not spit in public.”
The choice of Mr. Fergusson for a high legal appointment gives an even more Radical tinge to the English Cabinet. Lord Grey, almost without knowing it, has thus been dragged to the verge of an abyss, into which his weakness is thrusting him, but from which all his instincts and natural tendencies hold him back. Lord Brougham boasts that he has set everything right; Lord Durham, on the contrary, says (no doubt in order to prepare the way for himself) that it is he alone who has persuaded all the new recruits to join. Meanwhile he has retired to his villa near London, whence he declares, ”I have made Kings and refused to be one myself.”
The Marquis of Conyngham is, they say, to go to the Post Office and not to have a seat in the Cabinet. His selection is a social matter, with which politics, it appears, have very little to do.
The Duke of Richmond has accepted an invitation to the High Tory dinner to be given on the 22nd to the Duke of Gloucester. The Duke of Wellington, who has sworn never to go to the City again after their shameful conduct to him in 1830, refused, and did not conceal the reason. And yet the Lord Mayor is not the same as in 1830, and probably the Duke would now have a most flattering reception. However, he has taken an oath and will not break it.
Mr. Backhouse, Under Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, has been sent to Portsmouth to hold himself at the disposition of Don Carlos on every point except that of offering him money. This reserve seems to be the only way of a.s.sisting the negotiations which are being conducted by the Marquis de Miraflores, who is himself commissioned to offer the Infante, on behalf of his Government, an annual allowance of 20,000 sterling, on condition of his entering into obligations similar to those contracted by Dom Miguel. It is thought that the abject poverty to which the Prince himself, his wife and children, the d.u.c.h.ess of Bera, seven priests, and a suite of ladies (seventy-two persons in all), who are with him in the _Donegal_, are reduced, will smooth the course of the discussion. It is said that they have not so much as a change of linen. It is not known what Don Carlos's plans are. Some say that he wants to retire to Holland; others say Vienna; others again talk of Rome. This last idea seems to be peculiarly unpleasing to the present Government in Spain, but no one has the right to dictate a choice.
M. de Palmella is expected here quite soon. He says he is coming on private business, but it is generally supposed that it is in order to concert measures for getting rid of Dom Pedro, whose absurd behaviour is displeasing every one. Then would be the time to choose a husband for Dona Maria da Gloria, and the opportunity, perhaps, of bringing out this young Princess who is still somewhat elephantine in her style.
Lord Palmerston, with his usual courtesy, sent Mr. Backhouse to Portsmouth without so much as mentioning the matter to M. de Talleyrand, who only heard of it by public rumour. This led to a candid little conversation between Lord Grey and me. No one, it must be admitted, is better, more frank, more sincere or better intentioned than the Prime Minister. I am always as much touched by his good qualities as a man as I am struck by his incompetence as a politician.
He ran downstairs after me at his house to exculpate Lord Palmerston, to a.s.sure me that he had no ill-intention, and to beg me to make excuses for him to M. de Talleyrand. I replied to him with the old French proverb to the effect that h.e.l.l is paved with good intentions, and added in English, ”Well, I promise you to tell M. de Talleyrand that Lord Palmerston is as innocent as an unborn child, but I don't believe a word of it.” This made Lord Grey laugh, and he took what I said in excellent part as he always does.
_London, June 17, 1834._--Don Carlos refused to see M. de Miraflores and would receive no one but Mr. Backhouse, whom he gave to understand that he would not accept a penny if he had to sign away the smallest fragment of his rights. He commissioned M. Sampao, formerly Dom Miguel's Consul in London, to find him a house at Portsmouth, where he wants to rest for a fortnight, and thereafter one near London, where he will remain for some time.
The British Government attributes Don Carlos's refusal to a credit of a million, which they are convinced has been opened on the Prince's behalf with M. Saraiva, Dom Miguel's former Minister here. They even say that the credit was opened for him by the Duc de Blacas, which is very unlikely. The Bishop of Leon, who is said to be a bad man but clever after the fas.h.i.+on of a Spanish monk, is with the Infante, and is the leading spirit and the brain of this exiled Court.
The Marquis of Conyngham, son of George IV.'s celebrated favourite, has been definitely appointed to succeed his brother-in-law, the Duke of Richmond, as Postmaster-General. He is a young and good-looking man of fas.h.i.+on with many love affairs, who writes and receives more _billets-doux_ than serious letters, and is therefore called ”the Postmaster of the twopenny post.”
_London, June 18, 1834._--At all meetings of ladies there is always much confusion and controversy, so, in spite of the presidency of the d.u.c.h.ess-Countess of Sutherland, there have been many discussions and hesitations over the bracelet which is to be presented to Madame de Lieven. Some ladies have retired from motives of economy, others because the affair was not put under their charge; thirty remain. The choice of the jewels and the fas.h.i.+on of the setting have also given rise to difficulties. Opals are not to be thought of; the Princess dislikes them. Rubies are too expensive. Turquoises come from Russia; to give them would be to send coals to Newcastle. The same applies to amethysts, and as to sapphires, the Princess already has magnificent sapphires of her own. ”Emeralds perhaps.”--”No.”--”Yes.”--”Well perhaps----.”--”Why not?”--”It won't be what I expected.”--”Peridots are so common.”--”Let's ask the Princess herself.” This in the end is what we did; the mystery was revealed, the surprise abandoned, and a large pearl chosen.
Then came another question, more literary and more delicate in character, the question of the dedicatory inscription. The committee wished it to be in English, so, as a foreigner, I retired. They kindly expressed regret, but of course I persisted and remained as a mere spectator. It was very amusing. Twenty ways of putting the inscription were tried. Poetry and allegory were suggested. Some wished for a play of words suggesting that a pearl had been chosen because the Princess was a pearl among women. Others thought that the image was not sufficiently precise; they wanted some allusion to be made to the Princess's talent for affairs, a suggestion which was declared out of order. There was the further difficulty of putting on record the names of the donors without offending other ladies in society. So I was consulted. I said that I didn't know enough English to have an opinion. They asked what I should put if it were in French. I told them, and, weary of the struggle, they decided to translate it into English and adopt it. The wording is very simple: ”Testimony of regard, regret and affection presented to the Princess Lieven on her departure, by some English ladies of her particular acquaintance, July 1834.”
_London, June 19, 1834._--Madame de Lieven called on me yesterday morning. Her agitation grows as her departure draws nearer, and carried away by a sort of feverish excitement which consumes her, she said to me that she was sure there was one person besides Lord Palmerston who was glad she was going, and that was the King of England. He had refused to write an autograph letter, which while saving the Minister's face, might have reversed the decision as to M.
de Lieven's recall. Palmerston had lectured the King on the objections to foreign amba.s.sadors staying too long in London, where they became too much at home, and even came to acquire a real and important influence. In short, the King is delighted at Madame de Lieven's departure, and she blames Palmerston for it, which does not increase her partiality for him. She may find some consolation in thinking of the abyss which is opening at his feet. The whole Ministry is as shaky as possible; and Lord Palmerston is the least secure of them all. His colleagues think little of him. Lord Grey does not deny that his speeches in the House of Commons are bad. The _Corps diplomatique_ detest his arrogance. English people think him ill-bred. His one merit, when all is said and done, seems to consist in his remarkable facility for speaking and writing French. The Lievens' departure, which every one, and most certainly Lord Grey regrets, is so generally attributed to Lord Palmerston's impudent obstinacy that no one even pretends to conceal his conviction that this is the case, not even Lord Palmerston's colleagues in the Ministry. Thus he is never invited to the numerous farewell dinners and parties which are being given to the Lievens, and this is the more remarkable, as of course Lady Cowper is always there. This has not failed to give him great offence, and he has especially resented Lord Grey's att.i.tude. The latter has made a merit of this with Madame de Lieven, saying to her, on one occasion: ”You see I have got all your friends and haven't asked Palmerston.”
Poor Lady Cowper gets the benefit of all Lord Palmerston's ill-humour, and they say he is very unkind to her.
The Duke of Saxe-Meiningen has arrived by the King's invitation to escort the Queen, his sister, during her German tour. Her departure, is fixed, they say, for July 4, but the King is pressing her to go on the 2nd, and he is so strangely anxious to hurry her away, having made all the arrangements himself, that many people think that he will not be in such haste to let her come back. No one doubts that he expects to enjoy himself very much in his renewed bachelorhood, and every one trembles to think of the kind of enjoyment he may fancy. The nature of his pleasures, no less than the type of person he is likely to ask to share them, is a source of anxiety to decent people. There is no doubt that he has singular projects in his head, for the other day at dinner, he shouted out to an old admiral, who had been a great friend of his long ago, to ask ”whether he was as great a rascal as ever.”
The admiral answered that the days of his follies were over; but the King replied, ”_that for his part he meant to begin again!_”
A letter from M. Royer-Collard is always an event for me: in the first place, because I am very fond of him; and, secondly, because he says so much in so few words, in a striking way, and in a tone which is entirely individual, and gives much food for thought. Here is an extract from one which I have just got; it is quite true and yet malicious in a well-bred way: ”He [Thiers] is very clever; what he wants is Society and the experience which Society alone can give, a little dignity and a little _principle_. As I write this it comes into my mind that you will take me for a doctrinaire, which would be very unjust, for principle is a weakness which doctrinaires don't cultivate.”