I used to think Madame Dosne had the remains of beauty, but I thought on this occasion that she never could have been good looking. She has an unpleasing laugh, which is ironical without being gay. Her conversation is witty and animated, but her dress was pink and girlish, and affectedly simple to a degree which quite astonished me.

_Paris, December 15, 1833._--Yesterday I dined with the King. M. de Talleyrand was dining with the Prince Royal. During dinner the King spoke of nothing but traditions and memories of the past and ancient castles. I was quite at home. First we exhausted the topic of Touraine: he promised stained gla.s.s and portraits of Louis XI. and Louis XII. for Amboise. He will buy back the remains of Montrichard, and will prevent the ruin of the Chateau de Langeais. If he does all this my dinner will not have been in vain! He then told me about the restorations he is having done at Fontainbleau, and ended by explaining to me his great plan for Versailles, which is really great and worthy of a great-grandson of Louis XIV. But will it come to pa.s.s?

The conversation then turned on the new work which he has had done at the Tuileries themselves. He gave orders for the whole palace to be lit up, and after dinner he took me all through it.

Everything is really fine, very fine; and if the staircase, which is rich and elegant, were only a little broader, it would be quite perfect. This promenade took us from the Pavillon de Flore to the Pavillon de Marsan. Here the King asked me if I would like to pay a visit to his son, and I said, of course, that I would follow the King anywhere. We found the Duc d'Orleans playing whist with M. de Talleyrand, whose friends the Prince had invited to meet him.

The Prince's apartments are too beautifully furnished for a man's; that is the only criticism one can make, for they are full of lovely things found in the Royal garde-meuble, where all the fine pieces of the time of Louis XIV. were placed at the Revolution, and it did not occur to anyone at the time of the Restoration to take them out. The Duc d'Orleans has put a great many of them in his rooms. It is curious how often I have been at the Tuileries without ever suspecting the presence of the interesting things collected there. Thus, on this occasion in the King's room, among other things with which I was unfamiliar, I saw a portrait of Louis XIV. as a baby represented as a sleeping Cupid, and another of Anne of Austria as Minerva. I also saw some allegorical wood-carving of the time of Catherine de Medici, who built the Tuileries.

The King is an admirable guide to his palaces. I wondered during all our conversation how a man could know the traditions of his family so well and be so proud of them, and yet----. However!

I leave the day after to-morrow for London.

CHAPTER IV

1834

_London, January 27, 1834._--Sir Henry Halford has just been telling me that the late King George IV., whose senior physician he was, asked him two days before his death to say on his word of honour whether the case was desperate. Sir Henry, with a significantly grave face, answered that his Majesty's condition was very serious; whereupon the King thanked him with a movement of his head, desired the Sacrament and communicated very devoutly, inviting Sir Henry to communicate along with him. Lady Conyngham was in the adjoining room. So no human interest was absent from the deathbed of the Royal charlatan while he partook of the Sacrament for the last time.

_London, February 7, 1834._--Yesterday I was at Lady Holland's, who finished some story or other which she was telling me by saying, "I didn't get this from Lady Keith (Mme. de Flahaut), for she hasn't written to me for more than two months." Then she added, "Did you know that she hated the present Ministry in France?" "Of course," I answered; "it was you who told M. de Talleyrand all the nasty things she was saying here about the French Cabinet at the time when it was formed." "True," replied Lady Holland, "all the same, the Cabinet must be preserved. Lord Granville has written to Lord Holland to say that we must not believe everything Lady Keith says about the precariousness of the Duc de Broglie's position, for she is a bitter enemy of his and longs for his downfall." I said nothing, and the subject dropped. But, after this, don't speak to me of the friendships of this world!

Anyhow, they write rather amusingly of M. and Mme. de Flahaut from Paris, saying that their favour at the Tuileries is declining, he being considered a superannuated coquette, and she a foxy old intriguer.

_Warwick Castle, February 10, 1834._--I left London the day before yesterday, and got as far as Stony Stratford, where I advise no one to pa.s.s the night. The beds are bad even for England, and I never experienced anything more like a trappist's couch. I left yesterday morning in the midst of a bitterly cold and extremely thick fog. It was impossible to get any idea of the country, which, however, from certain occasional glimpses, I believe to be rather pretty, especially about Iston Hall, a beautiful place owned by Lord Porchester. You pa.s.s a superb gate, from which there stretches a vast park, beyond which there is a view of a valley which seemed to me charming. Leamington, a few miles further on, is well built and cheerful.

As to Warwick itself, where I arrived yesterday morning, one enters by a fortress gate. Its aspect is the most severe, its courtyard the most sombre, its hall the most enormous, its furniture the most Gothic, and its style the most perfect that you can possibly imagine. Everything suggests the feudal system. A large and rapid river bathes the foot of the great dark old battlemented towers. The monotonous noise of the water is interrupted by the crackling of the great trees which burn in the gigantic fireplaces. In the hall huge logs are piled upon the dogs which stand on slabs of polished marble, and each log requires two men to put it on the fire.

I have only just glanced rapidly at the stained gla.s.s in the great broad windows, which are on the same scale as the fireplaces, at the armour and the antlers and the other curiosities of the hall, at the fine family portraits in the three great drawing-rooms. As yet I am only familiar with my own room, which is completely furnished with Boulle and carved walnut, and, in addition to these antique splendours, is full of all the modern comforts.

Lady Warwick's boudoir is also full of interesting things. She came to my room yesterday to fetch me, and after showing me the boudoir she took me to the little drawing-room, where we found Lord Monson, the son of her first marriage, a little man, or rather boy, shy and silent, and much embarra.s.sed by the exiguity and weakness of his person. Lady Monson was also there. She is a striking contrast to her husband, being a tall blonde Englishwoman, stiff and bony, with long features and large hands, a great broad flat chest, angular in her movements, and rather like an old maid, but pretty and kindly. Here, too, was Lady Eastnor, the sister of Lady Stuart of Rothesay; ugly, like all her family, but well-bred, like all Lady Hardwicke's daughters. Lord Eastnor, a mighty hunter and a great eater and drinker, was also of the party; and his brother, a parson, who, I believe, has not shaved since Christmas, and who never opened his mouth except to eat. Lord Brooke, the son of the house, is fifteen and very nice looking; his tutor was with him, and was silent and respectful, as tutors should be. Finally, there was the striking figure of Lady Catherine Neeld, a sister of the Ashleys and a daughter of Lord Shaftesbury. She is celebrated for the suit she brought against her husband, of which all the papers were full last year. She is a friend of Lady Warwick's who protects, shelters, and defends her.

She is a bold, rather loud person, with a malicious tongue and familiar and somewhat audacious manners. She is well made, has a white skin and beautiful fair hair, but neither eyebrows nor eyelashes. Her face is long and narrow; her eyes have no special merit, and her nose and mouth remind you of what Madame de Sevigne said of Madame de Sforze when she described her as being like "a parrot eating a cherry."

Lord Warwick had a touch of rheumatic gout, and kept his room. No one seemed to miss him.

The lady of the house is far from being in harmony with the splendid pile which she inhabits. She has been pretty without being beautiful; she is naturally witty, but has not improved her gifts by study. She knows nothing of the traditions of her castle. Her disposition is all towards fun and informality; her bodily habits are nonchalant, and altogether this plump, lazy, idle little woman seems anything but the natural mistress of her vast, sombre, and almost terrifying house.

Moreover, every one seems to me a pigmy in these rooms, to fill which you would require superhuman creatures like the King-maker. Our generation is too meanly proportioned for such an abode.

The dining-room is fine, but less grandiose than the rest of the house. On leaving table a long time before the men we went to the great drawing-room, which is flanked by two smaller ones. In this huge room there are some splendid Van Dycks, and the panelling is entirely of cedar in its natural colour. The perfume of this wood is very agreeable. The furniture is covered in velvet damask, the prevailing tone of which is deep red. There are many really magnificent pieces of Boulle, and several marbles brought back from Italy. The two enormous windows form deep recesses and have no curtains, being simply framed in cedar wood. In this huge area there were only about a score of candles, which reminded me of will-o'-the-wisps, which deceived the eye rather than illuminated the room. I have never seen anything more chilling and depressing than this drawing-room, in which the ladies'

conversation was very languid indeed. I kept thinking that the portrait of Charles the First and the bust of the Black Prince would come and join us at coffee before the fire. At last the men came, and after them the tea, and at ten o'clock a sort of supper. At eleven a general move was made to bed, which seemed to be a relief for every one.

During this long evening I thought many times of the description given by Corinne of her mother-in-law's chateau. At dinner nothing was talked of but county b.a.l.l.s and Leamington Spa, and other petty gossip of the neighbourhood. Feature by feature it recalled Madame de Stael's description.

In the morning Lady Warwick took me over the Castle, which I should have got to know better if I had been left to myself, or had been put in charge of one of the two housekeepers, the elder of whom is ninety-three. To look at her you would think she was going to tell you all about the Wars of the Roses. The chatelaine cares nothing whatever about all the curiosities with which her domain is stored, and took me through them at breakneck speed.

I did, however, manage to stop for a moment before the saddle and caparison of Queen Elizabeth, which she used on her progress from Kenilworth to Warwick, and I took up the lute presented by Lord Leicester to her Majesty, a wonderfully carved instrument, with the Queen's arms in raised copper on the wood, and close by them the favourite's own, which seemed to me a trifle impertinent. I noticed a curious portrait of the Queen in her coronation robes which showed a terrible resemblance to her terrible father. _A propos_ of this portrait Lord Monson told me a thing I did not know, viz., that Elizabeth, who always affected a youthful appearance, never allowed herself to be painted except in full face and so lighted as to avoid any shadow on her features which might accentuate the lines, and so indicate the number of her years. It is said that this idea was so constantly in her mind that she always faced the light when she gave audience.

The library at Warwick is not particularly remarkable, and did not appear to me to be much used. Queen Anne's bed-chamber with the bed of the period is a fine room.

At ten Lady Warwick and I entered a carriage, Lady Monson and Lord Brooke escorting us on horseback, and we drove through an interesting landscape to the celebrated ruins of Kenilworth. There I was really disappointed, not because the ruins do not give the idea of a vast and n.o.ble building, but because the country is so flat, and the absence of trees is so complete, that there is nothing which you could call picturesque. It is true that there is a superb coat of ivy over all, which is good as far as it goes, but is not enough to make a picture.

Lady Monson is less ignorant of the locality than her mother-in-law, and she pointed out to me the banqueting-hall, Queen Elizabeth's room, the buildings constructed by Leicester which, though more modern, are more ruinous than the rest, and the gate-house through which the Queen's procession pa.s.sed, and which was built specially for the occasion. This erection is still in a good state of preservation, and is inhabited by one of the tenants of Lord Clarendon, the owner of the ruins. In the interior there is a chimney-piece with the initials and the crest of Leicester. The wing in which Sir Walter Scott lodges Amy Robsart owes its celebrity to romance and not to history.

I was not allowed to ascend the towers, as the stability of the ruins is doubtful, and only last year Lady Sefton's niece had an accident here. Besides I was a.s.sured that the view was in no way remarkable.

We made a _detour_ on the return journey and pa.s.sed right through Leamington. The whole town, and especially the bathing establishment, seemed to me quite pretty. Just now it is gay with hunting men, who live here much as they do at Melton Mowbray.

When we got back it was not yet dark, and Lady Warwick took me to see a pretty view of the River Avon at the bottom of the park, which is beautifully planted. I was also shown some gla.s.s-houses, which are neither very well kept nor very full of flowers, but in which is kept the Warwick Vase--a huge vessel of white marble beautifully shaped and carved. It was brought back from the Garden of Trajan by the father of the present Lord Warwick.

To-morrow I return to London.

_London, February 12, 1834._--M. de Talleyrand told me that yesterday evening, while playing whist with Madame de Lieven, who had Lord Sefton for a partner, the Princess, with her habitual absence of mind, revoked twice, whereupon Lord Sefton quietly remarked that it was quite natural that these abominable Dardanelles should often cause Madame de Lieven to revoke. This caused much merriment to the company.

I have a letter from M. Royer-Collard in which occurs the following sentence: "I like M. de Bacourt very much indeed. His clear, simple and intelligent conversation is charming, and I find no one here who talks so well. Our mutual understanding is complete."

_London, February 15, 1834._--The d.u.c.h.ess-Countess of Sutherland called for me yesterday and took Pauline and me to the _Panorama of the North Pole_ in which Captain Ross plays a prominent part. Both painting and perspective are beyond anything I have seen of its kind; but everything which relates to adventures so terrible and sufferings so prolonged is intensely interesting.

One of Captain Parry's crew in the _Fury_ who had afterwards been with Captain Ross, happened by chance to be there. He gave Pauline a little piece of the fur with which he had covered himself when among the Esquimaux, and presented me with a fragment of granite taken from the most northerly point reached by the expedition. We asked him many questions, and he often recurred to the moment when they sighted the _Isabella_, which rescued them and brought them home. This was on the 26th of August, and he told us that as long as he lived he would drink to the memory of that happy moment on every anniversary.

Last night we had a rout, at which there was nothing remarkable either in the way of dresses or of beauties or of absurdities. The Marquis of Douglas is extraordinarily handsome, and Miss Emily Hardy seemed to me rather smitten with him.

The Ministry was represented by Lord Grey, Lord Lansdowne, and Lord Melbourne. The Cabinet is much embarra.s.sed, for every day incidents are happening in the House of Commons which show up vividly the serious divisions in its ranks. Last night Lord Grey's face showed visible traces of this.

_London, February 20, 1834._--A new and very ugly story is afloat concerning Count Alfred d'Orsay which is as follows: Sir Willoughby Cotton, writing from Brighton at the same time to Count d'Orsay and to Lady Fitzroy Somerset, cross-directed the letters so that M. d'Orsay on opening the letter which he received, instead of seeing the mistake and stopping at the first line, which ran "Dear Lady Fitzroy," read it through and found, among other Brighton gossip, some pleasantries about Lady Tullemore and one of her lovers, and a sharp saying about himself. What did he do but go to the club, read out the letter before every one, and finally put it under cover and send it to Lord Tullemore! The result very nearly was a crop of duels. Lady Tullemore is very ill, and the guilty lover has fled to Paris. Friends intervened, however, and the thing was hushed up for the sake of the ladies, but M. d'Orsay cut (and cuts) an odious figure.

_London, February 27, 1834._--The latest joke is to spread rumours of Lord Palmerston's marriage with Miss Jerningham. She was at the Russian Emba.s.sy yesterday overdressed and bedizened as usual. Madame de Lieven made her a target for her wit, but couldn't quite get out of inviting her. No doubt, in order to avenge this constraint, she said quite loudly that Miss Jerningham reminded her of the usual advertis.e.m.e.nt in the _Times_: "A housemaid wants a situation in a family where a footman is kept." Clever and only too true, but most uncharitable! She was good enough to add that the comic papers had christened Lord Palmerston "the venerable cupid."

_London, May 1, 1834._--Mr. Salomon Dedel arrived this morning from the Hague, bringing me a letter from General f.a.gel, which contained the following: "Someone has found out that Dedel had expressed the hope that he might reappear in London armed with instructions to bring the affair to a conclusion." Dedel mentioned the matter to the King, who replied: "The purpose of your absence was to see your relatives and friends of whom you can give news if anybody asks you." Further on the same letter runs: "We wish to be forced by the five powers, and will take no account of a partial coercion like that of 1832. If the powers are not unanimous we shall continue to refuse any definite arrangement. At the worst we prefer the road to Silesia to recognising Leopold."

Madame de Jaucourt, referring to the insane party spirit now in the ascendant in France, writes to M. de Talleyrand that her brother M. de Thiard said at her house the other day: "I would give my right arm to have Charles X. back in the place from which we deposed him."

Is it not curious that young Baillot, who has just been a.s.sa.s.sinated during the late troubles in Paris, should have often boasted of having killed several people during the days of July 1830 in exactly the same way as he was killed himself?

I have just heard of an amusing thing said by the old Marchioness of Salisbury. Last Sunday she was at church, a rare thing with her, and the preacher, speaking of the Fall, observed that Adam excusing himself had cried out, "Lord the woman tempted me." At this quotation Lady Salisbury, who appeared not to have heard of the incident before, jumped up in her seat saying, "Shabby fellow indeed!"

I have just been paying a morning call on the Queen, whom I found much agitated, anxious, and yet pleased, about her impending journey to Germany. The King arranged it without her knowledge and superintended the smallest details. It is he who has chosen the suite, engaged the servants, and selected the carriages. It has all been done in such a hurry that the Queen has not yet recovered from the shock. She doesn't know whether to be glad at the prospect of seeing her mother, who is aged and infirm, or to be worried about leaving the King alone for six weeks. She told me that the King wanted to invite M. de Talleyrand and me to Windsor during our stay at Salt Hill, but that she herself had dissuaded him as it would have led to other invitations, and they would have had to ask, among other people, the Princesse de Lieven, for whom the King does not care.

The Queen coughs and thinks herself quite ill, but she hopes to be restored by her native air.

It is impossible not to be struck, every time one sees her, with the perfect simplicity, truth and uprightness of her Majesty's character.

I have rarely seen a person more devoted to duty or more self-consistent in all that she says and does. She is both kind and cheerful, and, though not beautiful, she is perfectly graceful. The tones of her voice are unfortunately nasal, but what she says is so full of good sense and real kindness that it is a pleasure to listen to her. The satisfaction she feels in speaking German is very natural, and I feel this every time she does so. I wish, however, that she indulged herself in this way more sparingly in the presence of English people. In her own interest it would be better for her if she had more of the Englishwoman in her; no one could have remained more characteristically German than she has, and I fear that this sometimes gives offence. How is a monarch to escape doing so nowadays? They are made responsible for everything and are always threatened with punishment merited or unmerited. The poor Queen has already a sad experience of the bitterness of unpopularity and of calumny. She has always faced attack with dignity and valour, and I am sure she has courage enough to confront any danger.

This is St. Philip's day; the Lievens and Lady Cowper dined with us, and Prince Esterhazy came in afterwards. I have noticed for some time a certain sharpness in his manner to the Lievens which is unusual in him. The pleasantries which he addresses to the Princess soon turn to irony. I suspect that on her side she will not regret his departure.

She has never managed to subdue him; he slips through her fingers, and his jests, always subtle and sometimes malicious, embarra.s.s her and put her out. They are constantly on their guard with one another, and they make up for the resulting constraint by frequent interchanges of pin p.r.i.c.ks.

The Queen told me that Esterhazy, when lately at Windsor, spoke to her of M. de Talleyrand with the greatest enthusiasm, saying that one of his greatest pleasures was to listen to his conversation. He added, that when he got home he often made a note of what he had heard from M. de Talleyrand. It seems that Esterhazy keeps a journal in great detail. He told the Queen so, and explained that this habit was of such long standing that the journal already filled several large volumes, which he was fond of re-reading. The Queen was surprised, not unnaturally, to discover such a sedentary habit so consistently maintained by one whose manners were so restless and whose ideas were so often scattered.