Yesterday I had a long conversation with my cousin Paul Medem. He understands very well the difficulties of his position, which begin with the keen regret with which M. and Madame de Lieven are yielding him the place. These difficulties will be removed in part by the very wise advice of the Czar, that he should remain altogether outside the internal politics of England, and become neither Whig nor Tory. He told me that the real reason why he had been preferred to Matuczewicz, was the marked and uncompromising character of the opinions which the latter had adopted in England, where he went in for politics with the vigour of John Bull himself.
_June 28, 1834._--The King of England is ill and his haste to see the Queen depart has suddenly changed into keen regret that she is going.
She did everything she could to persuade him to allow her to stay, but the King replied that it was too late to change his mind, that all was ready and that she must go. To stay now would give rise to all sorts of unfortunate conjectures which should be avoided. "Besides," he added, "if a change in the Ministry comes soon it is better that you should be absent so that they cannot say, as they did some years ago, that you influenced me." The same day, speaking of his Ministers, the King said, "I am tired to death of these people," and when some one observed that if so, it was very curious that he did not dismiss them, he replied very sensibly, "But two years ago when I sent for the Tories they left me stranded at the end of twenty-four hours and abandoned me to the Whigs. This must not happen a second time. I shall therefore do nothing one way or the other, but let them fight it out as best they can among themselves." Things will not, however, turn out as before, for it was the refusal of Sir Robert Peel to take office which wrecked the plan on the former occasion. Now he is willing to take up the succession, and public opinion is prepared to see him do so.
I hear much of internal dissensions in the Cabinet. It appears that Lord Lansdowne will not remain with Mr. Ellice, especially since the declaration of the latter in favour of the principles of Mr.
O'Connell. It is also said that Lord Grey doesn't get on with Mr.
Abercromby. Finally the disunion of the Cabinet is obvious, even to the public, and is being, I think, rather cleverly exploited by the Conservative Party.
The Prince de Lieven yesterday introduced Paul Medem to Lord Grey, who appeared much embarrassed, and, after a long silence, found nothing to talk about but France, M. de Broglie, M. de Rigny, the elections, &c., just as he might have done with a French _charge d'affaires_. For a Russian one, just come from St. Petersburg, this was very curious--Lord Grey's praises of Broglie were excessive; his questions about Rigny cold and distrustful.
_London, June 29, 1834._--It is very strange that, as things are, Lady Holland, who has always professed to be a friend of Lord Aberdeen in spite of the difference of their political opinions, should have asked M. de Talleyrand to meet him at dinner at her house!
Yesterday I took leave of the Queen; everything seemed definitely arranged for her departure.
Don Carlos and his suite are established at Gloucester Lodge, a pretty house in one of the suburbs, which is called Old Brompton. This house, whose present owner is unknown to me, was built by the mother of the present Duke of Gloucester who gave it its name. Don Carlos's close proximity to London much embarrasses all the members of the diplomatic corps, whose courts have left their relations with Spain conveniently vague. The signatories of the Quadruple Alliance are of course out of the game.
_London, June 30, 1834._--The Marquis de Miraflores makes no progress in the difficult art of behaving tactfully in society. The other day he made another curious lapse. It was at the house of Lord Brougham the Chancellor, where he had been talking to M. de Talleyrand. The latter, turning to go, found himself face to face with Lucien Bonaparte. They greeted each other and exchanged inquiries, coldly but politely, and M. de Talleyrand was about to take his leave when he was stopped by the Spanish Minister, who in a loud voice asked the French Ambassador to present him to Lucien Bonaparte! It was a perfect example of tact!
The Duke of Wellington, whom I saw yesterday at a concert in honour of Madame Malibran, told me that he had been with Don Carlos that morning, and had had a very curious conversation with him. He could not give me an account of it then because of the crowd which surrounded us listening to everything we said, but he told me that nothing could exceed the squalour, poverty and untidiness of this King and Queen of Spain and the Indies. The Duke was the more astonished at this, as they have found money here, and might easily have bought a little soap and clean linen. All that the Duke told me of the conversation was as follows. First he told them the truth as he always does, and, seeing a priest, then observed, "God doubtless does much for those who invoke His help, but He does even more for those who do something for themselves." The priest only said that there was a Spanish proverb to the same effect.
_London, July 1, 1834._--Yesterday we received the news of the death of Madame Sosthene de la Rochefoucault, an event which proves that I am right in maintaining that there is no such thing as a _malade imaginaire_. Nothing, in fact, can be so tedious and wearisome as to be constantly watching, dieting and pitying one's self. How could any one keep up such a pretence unless some serious and painful symptom condemned one to it? But there are two things which the world never will believe in--the troubles and the sufferings of others. Every one is so afraid of being asked for sympathy and help, that it is found more convenient to deny the facts than to sacrifice one's self. All my life I have heard Madame Sosthene abused; she was described as a lazy, complaining creature who had in reality the constitution of a Turk.
When one does not look delicate, and even sometimes when one does, nothing short of dying will convince people that one is really ill.
The world is only too ready to give exhibitions of its curiosity, its indiscretion, and its calumny, but its compassion, like its indulgence, only comes after the event, when you have no longer any need of it.
M. de Montrond talks of returning to Loueche to put his poor body in a bath. It would be a good thing if it were possible to put his soul in also. His visit here was an even worse failure than that of last year.
When you have survived yourself, your fortune, your health, your wit, and your manners, and when there does not even remain the faintest reflection of your past glories to give you a little consideration in the world, the spectacle which you present is deplorable. I said one day to M. de Talleyrand that in my opinion nothing was left to M. de Montrond except to blow out his brains. He replied that he would do nothing of the sort, because he had never been able to put up with the smallest deprivation, and he would not willingly accept the deprivation of life any more than any other.
Madame de Montrond, who was divorced from her first husband[19] in order to marry M. de Montrond, told me that one day, after she had been divorced for the second time and had resumed her maiden name Aimee de Coigny, she was being driven in a phaeton with M. de Montrond, who himself took the reins. She was admiring the fine pair of English horses and praised the view, the equipage, and the driver.
"It is not much of a pleasure," he replied; "what would be worth doing would be to harness two young tigers, lash them to fury, to tame them, and then to kill them." This is, indeed, the language of an insatiable soul.
[19] The Duc de Fleury, grand-nephew of the Cardinal.
_London, July 2, 1834._--The Queen is definitely going on the 5th. She will cross in the yacht _Royal George_, which people are going to visit out of curiosity, as well as two splendid steamboats, which will act as tugs when necessary. The whole Yacht Club will escort her, and the North Sea will be covered with a charming little fleet. The Queen is to land at Rotterdam some time on the 6th, and will proceed the same evening incognita to her sister, the Duchess of Weimar, who lives in the suburbs of The Hague. The Prince of Orange, I understand, is to be there as if by chance. The Princess of Orange is in Germany with her sister.
_London, July 3, 1834._--Lord Grey has become extremely nervous and irritable. Yesterday, while dining with Lord Sefton, he was, as they say here, quite cross because dinner was later than usual; because Lady Cowley, a witty and animated woman but a great Tory, was there; and, finally, because every one was in full dress for the Duke of Wellington's ball. It is really curious that a man in Lord Grey's exalted position and of such a noble nature as he, should be so sensitive to small matters, and should have nerves so childishly susceptible.
The Duke of Wellington gave a splendid ball, very magnificent, brilliant, and well-arranged. All the guests did their best not to dim the lustre of the proceedings, and I think they were successful.
M. Royer-Collard writes to me: "The aspect of the elections is deceptive; they are much less ministerial than they seem. Next Session will be very heavy, and the Ministry is prepared for trouble. The great number of coalitions is a very serious symptom. What must be the violence of the hatreds which have formed such an alliance!" Further on he adds, "When one knows a person one is usually able to predict with fair accuracy what he will say or do in given circumstances, but M. Dupin defies all calculation. The rashness of his speech is such as cannot be foreseen; it is the same here as in London, and it makes it impossible that he should ever come into power."
_London, July 4, 1834._--The other day the Queen said something which seemed very ridiculous to the person to whom she said it, but which seems to me quite intelligible, probably owing to what M. de Talleyrand would call my _allemanderie_. She said that "during the sixteen hours which she spent last week in Westminster Abbey during the performance of the great oratorios, she had had more time and leisure to reflect on her position, and for self-examination than she usually had." This has led to her making discoveries, for instance that she was more attached to the King than she was perhaps aware, that she was more necessary to her husband than she had thought, and, in a word, that henceforth England was her only true country. All this makes her departure particularly painful, but she has one consolation.
This is the thought that when she is away the King will be more disposed to assist in bringing about a change of Ministry, and that it cannot be supposed that in doing so he is yielding to her influence.
There is much, perhaps too much, frankness in such pieces of self-revelation, but I think that all these ideas are perfectly natural, and I understand perfectly how they were inspired in the places and circumstances above described.
The King for his part gives the most curious explanations of his regret at the Queen's leaving him, which grows keener day by day. Thus he said to Madame de Lieven yesterday. "I could never explain to you, Madame, the innumerable ways in which the Queen is of use to me." This is a strange and rather ridiculous way of putting it. The King has gout in his hands which makes it difficult to use them, prevents him from riding, and often from writing. This causes him much pain when he has many papers to sign, and makes him depend on his valet in the smallest matters. All his fine plans of resuming his bachelor existence and of amusing himself as suits his fancy are abandoned. So much so that his Majesty concluded his confidences to Madame de Lieven by saying that once the Queen is gone he would go to Windsor and live there like a hermit, never leaving the place till she came back.
The departure of her Majesty, which takes place to-morrow, will be a really splendid spectacle. Besides her own vessel the two great steam-boats and all the Yacht Club, the Lord Mayor, and all the City Companies will escort the Queen in their State barges as a mark of respect up to the point on the river at which their jurisdiction ends.
It is said, too, that a Dutch fleet is to be sent to meet her.
Almack's, the celebrated Almack's,[20] which for twenty years has been the despair of the middle classes, the object of the emulation and the desire of so many young ladies in the provinces, Almack's, which gives or withholds the stamp of fashion, Almack's, the despotism _par excellence_, ruled with a rod of iron by six of the most exclusive ladies in London; Almack's, like all modern institutions, carries in its bosom the seeds of its own destruction! Following on a relaxation of internal regulations came a violation of its privileges, for the Duke of Wellington dared to give a ball on Wednesday, the day devoted and consecrated exclusively to Almack's. Finally, there has been disunion and a conflict of jurisdiction in the Council of Six, and like the constitution of Church and State, so much shaken at present, Almack's also threatens to fall to pieces, and we fear for the safety of an institution where young ladies find husbands, women of position an exercising ground for their pretentions, novelists the most brilliant scenes in their stories, foreigners their introduction to society, and everybody a more or less legitimate interest to occupy them in the height of the season.
[20] Almack's was an academy of fashion where all the best society in London collected. The patronesses were six ladies of high rank; every man of the world had to make his _debut_ at Almack's.
Lady Jersey is accused of being the subversive spirit. The counts in the indictment against her are numerous. She would not allow the appointment of younger patronesses, who being livelier than their elders might have revived the fading interest people took in the place. She had been much to blame in giving tickets carelessly to people who were anything but elegant, and had refused to submit her lists to the inspection of her colleagues. Further, having herself introduced an undesirable element at the balls, she had decried them, and in spite of the fact that she was a patroness had ceased to go herself, and had persuaded the Duke of Wellington to give a ball on Wednesday. She had tried to force the other patronesses to change the day, and finally, not content with having set at naught in this way all the most sacred traditions of the institution, she had written an arrogant and preposterous letter, or rather manifesto, to Lady Cowper, complaining that, as her advice had been disregarded, Almack's had clashed with the Duke of Wellington's Ball, and threatening that, as she was very angry at this, she would resign her position as a member of the Committee. It is expected that at the next meeting there will be a great row. I confess that if the public were admitted I should certainly be present.
It must be admitted that Lady Jersey carries blind vanity to a degree which is beyond all bounds. She is absolutely stupid, and her origin is bourgeois.[21] Her husband is too indulgent, and she is beautiful with a beauty which is imperfect but very well preserved. Her health is robust, her energy untiring, and the possession of all these advantages has convinced her that she has enough money to excuse all her caprices, enough beauty to be the despair or the rapture of all the men about her, enough wit to rule the world, and enough authority to be always paramount without question in the favour of princes, in the confidence of statesmen, in the hearts of the young men, and even in the opinion of her rivals. She thinks her superiority so incontestable that modesty is unnecessary and would be merely hypocritical, so she does without it perfectly. She speaks of her beauty, which she exhibits with all the complacency of Helen of Troy, of her wit, her virtue, and her sensibility each in its turn. Piety arrives punctually on Sunday and departs on Monday. She has neither restraint nor ability, nor generosity, nor kindness, nor honesty nor dignity. She is either mocked or hated, either avoided or feared. In my opinion her heart is bad, her head empty, her character dangerous, her society tedious, but when all is said and done she is as they say, "the best creature in the world."
[21] Through her mother Lady Jersey was the grand-daughter of Robert Child, the banker.
_London, July 6, 1834._--The rather violent altercation in the House of Commons between Mr. Littelton, Chief Secretary for Ireland, and Mr.
O'Connell has not been well received, and has brought out in a strong light both the indiscretion of the former and the want of principle of the latter. After such a scene it was expected that the two champions would have a mutual explanation not without arms, and that Mr. Littelton would resign or be dismissed. But the political epidermis is neither very fine nor very sensitive; the manners and customs of Parliament make people callous very quickly, and ambition and intrigue promptly dethrone every sentiment of delicacy, and sometimes every sentiment of honour.
Mr. Stanley made another long speech the day before yesterday on the eternal question of the Irish Church, launching defiance at the Government of which he was so lately a member. This was so easy to foresee that I was astonished at the stupidity of Ministers and their friends, who maintained breathlessly that Mr. Stanley would remain their friend and defender after his resignation as he had been before.
As if between politicians there could be any other bond of union except common ambition?
The Neapolitan Minister thought it his duty to present himself before Don Carlos, who sent for him. He made up his mind, however, not to commit his Court without instructions, and to give Don Carlos no higher title than "Monseigneur." However, when he got to Gloucester Lodge, he was solemnly introduced into the presence of the Prince, who received him standing in the midst of his Court, the Princesses at his side so black and ugly, with eyes of such an African cast, that poor old Ludolf became confused, and hearing every one cry "the King," and feeling these four terrible black eyes fixed on him with the fury of wild beasts, he felt that if he did not go beyond "Monseigneur" his last hour was come; and so he scattered "King" and "Majesty" right and left, and was glad to escape alive from that den of brigands!
The Princesse de Lieven gave us a charming day in the country yesterday. The company showed both good humour and good taste, and consisted of the Princess, Lady Clanricarde, M. Dedel, Count Pahlen, Lord John Russell, and myself. The weather was splendid, except for two thunder-showers, which we all took in good part. We dined at Burford Bridge, a pretty little inn at the foot of Box Hill, only half of which we were able to climb owing to the heat. We also visited Deepdene, a country house which belongs to Mr. Hope,[22] and well deserves its name. The vegetation is fine, but the place is low-lying and melancholy; the house is in a pretentious Egyptian style, which is grotesque and ugly.
[22] This house still belongs to the Hope family, and contains a remarkable picture gallery. The park and the Italian garden are among the finest in England.
Mr. Denison's property of Denbies,[23] which we next visited, is admirably situated; the view is rich and varied, but the house is insignificant, at least from the outside. All this country is quite picturesque--remarkably so, in fact, when one thinks how near it is to a great city like London. The party was undoubtedly very pleasant, and I like to look back on it.
[23] Denbies now belongs to Mr. G. Cubitt; it is situated in the county of Surrey, near Dorking.
_London, July 7, 1834._--The Duke of Cumberland has announced his intention of visiting Don Carlos, which much displeases the King. The Duke of Gloucester would be tempted to go too, but he was unwilling to do so without telling the King, who begged him not to do so.
Here is exactly what passed between the Infante Don Carlos and the Duke of Wellington. The Infante began by sending the Bishop of Leon to the Duke, who thought him a fat and rather common priest, but that he had more sense than all the rest of the party put together. The Bishop begged the Duke to go to see his master and give him his advice. The Duke declined to advise on a position the details of which, as well as the resources available, were unknown to him, but felt that he could not very well refuse to call on Don Carlos, with whom he had the singular conversation which follows:
DON CARLOS. Do you advise me to go by sea and rejoin Zumalacarreguy in Biscaya?
DUKE OF WELLINGTON. But have you the means of getting there? (_No reply._) Have you a seaport at your disposal where you would be sure to be able to disembark?
DON CARLOS. Zumalacarreguy will take one for me.
DUKE OF WELLINGTON. But in order to do so he would have to leave Biscaya. Moreover, you must not forget that, in accordance with the Treaty of Quadruple Alliance, England will not allow you to start for Spain, having engaged to expel you from that country.
DON CARLOS. Very well. I will go by way of France.
DUKE OF WELLINGTON. But France has entered into the same engagements.
DON CARLOS. What would be done if I crossed France?
DUKE OF WELLINGTON. You would be arrested.
DON CARLOS. What impression would be produced on the other Powers by this?
DUKE OF WELLINGTON. The impression that a Prince had been arrested.