Chapter II · 1842

Nice, January 1, 1842.—Yesterday I made a very beautiful excursion with my son-in-law. We drove to the foot of a crag on which a convent for men is built. The church is pretty, especially by reason of a projecting portico from which there is a beautiful view of the sea including Nice, the Fort of Saint Elmo, and of the chief points of the landscape in a delightful setting. We walked up to the convent which is called Saint Pons: the religious order there established is comparatively new, and is called gli oblati della santissima Virgine; young ordained priests from the time when they are allowed to say Mass, and until they can perform the holy office of confession, or in other words receive the cure of souls, spend a year here in preparation. This institution seems to me to be peculiar to Nice, and in my opinion is a very wise idea.

Nice, January 2, 1842.—Yesterday evening I went with the Castellanes to the official reception given by the Governor of Nice. [48] It is customary here that on New Year's Day every native who has been presented at Court and all foreigners should attend this reception, the men in uniform and the women in full dress. The idea is that in this way one congratulates the King and Queen of Sardinia. The ceremony somewhat resembles a London Drawing-room, or one of the great diplomatic routs at Paris. There were some curious figures, but on the whole the society was unexceptionable and the crowd suffocating. Some games were made up in the last reception-room where it was not so hot, and refreshments went round, while flowers, which are never wanting here, were to be seen everywhere in profusion, and the light was brilliant. The whole scene looked very well. I went round the rooms twice, once on my son-in-law's arm and the second time with the Duke of Devonshire, who pays me much attention. The Grand Duchess was covered with diamonds but not with beauty, for she had no head-dress, which made her look old. The Princesse Marie also looks better when she is not so over-dressed.

Nice, January 3, 1842.—The churches here are most displeasing. It is very difficult to sit down and one is surrounded by dirty and unpleasant people who spit and are verminous. The architecture is also spoilt by wretched rags of gilt and silken material, worn out and torn, which make the most unpleasant effect. The singing of the penitents, who are here organised as brotherhoods, is by no means melodious. Apart from what I saw of the Jesuit college, nothing in the way of religion edifies me here. In the streets you are attacked by the most hideous beggars; all the staircases are crowded with them and are so filthy that one's skirts are only fit to throw away when one gets home.

Nice, January 4, 1842.—It is grey damp weather, and one might think oneself at Brighton; it has lasted now for three days and makes one think one is being swindled. When the weather was bright there was always the possibility of catching some inflammation of the chest, because the bitter wind counteracts the heat of the sun and therefore becomes the more dangerous. When the sun goes down the wind certainly falls, and then we are confronted by the great grey expanse of the sea which looks like a shroud prepared for our burial. We might still be at Paris or London.

I hear from Paris that the condemnation of Dupoty will probably be attacked by an appeal to the Chamber of Deputies upon grounds of illegality. [49] However, the nomination of M. Sauzet to the Presidency by a great majority is a good omen for the Ministry. It is not yet known what will be the consequence of Salvandy's return from Madrid; he declined to hand the letters accrediting him as ambassador to Espartero; the Ambassadors at Paris consider that he was quite right, and quote as a precedent a similar case under Louis XIV.

Nice, January 4, 1842.—I hear from Paris that the second trial before the Chamber of Peers will not be protracted or complicated. The revelations made by the accused, who have been condemned to death though they will not be executed, have made it possible to arrest some sixty individuals, all from the same class; only four or five of them will be brought up for sentence, who are somewhat above the working class and are most deeply compromised. It is said that the most important result of this second trial will be to show the ties existing between the Communists, the party of equality and the reform party, to which M. Arago and others belong, and of which M. Dupoty was the secretary.

The question of etiquette which hindered Salvandy in Spain is largely occupying men's minds. M. Guizot said that he sent precise instructions to Salvandy to return if Espartero persisted in his refusal to allow him to present his letters to the little Queen. His return was expected. It is somewhat derogatory to France that her Ambassador should be allowed to depart because he claims a natural right. When Cellamare and some other ambassador came to Paris, they handed their letters of credit to Louis XV. who was then six years of age and not to the Duc d'Orléans who was acting as Regent. This has been constantly repeated but produces no effect at Madrid.

Nice, January 6, 1842.—Yesterday it snowed for several hours in succession, at Nice, of all places. An icy wind was blowing which froze us though we were sitting close round the stove in which I am burning an enormous quantity of fir-cones and sticks of olive wood which are sold here by the pound, and though my extravagance in this respect is ruinous I cannot get warm.

Nice, January 7, 1842.—Yesterday it snowed nearly all day and the snow remained so long upon the ground that on the terrace which divides my house from the sea, and which is a public walk, all the street boys of Nice gathered and made large snowballs which they hurled with savage and animal yells at every passer by. I watched this strange spectacle from my windows as I did not go out all day.

My huge room reduces me to despair for two reasons; in the first place because it cannot possibly be heated and in the second because it has brought down upon me a demand for an evening reception, issued by the Grand Duchess. I gave in, though with some regret, for it is always more or less of an inconvenience and I am extremely lazy. I have therefore handed over the room to Princesse Marie, to Fanny and to Pauline: I have ordered my son-in-law to make all the necessary arrangements and have declared that I will have nothing to do with it except pay the bills and receive the visitors. It is well for youth to be at work. The Grand Duchess wishes to get up a quadrille and is stirring Nice to its foundations for that purpose. The reception is to take place on Monday next, the 10th. There are a hundred and fifty people on my list: it will be called a tea with dancing; the quadrille will be given by twelve ladies representing the months of the year and four children representing the seasons; these details may not be quite accurate as I am not interfering in the business. The Grand Duchess and Pauline, who is more vigorous now than I have seen her for a long time, together with Comte Eugène de Césole, settle all these matters at the house of the Grand Duchess; I shall only abandon my room upon the morning of the day.

Nice, January 11, 1842.—My reception took place yesterday. It was not exactly a ball but a tea with a little music, after which there were several figure dances, a mazurka and two waltzes. It was all over by one o'clock.

When Count Pahlen left Paris, our embassy at St. Petersburg received orders not to appear at Court on St. Nicholas' Day and the ambassadors pleaded illness as an excuse. M. de Kisseleff and all the Russians were then ordered not to appear at the Tuileries on New Year's Day. On this subject Barante writes as follows: "I had been expecting for some time that the strange idea of showing some personal feeling, apart from Cabinet policy, would oblige the Emperor to form a definite resolution. I think, however, that at present he will try to make his action as little resolute as possible. Probably the return of Count Pahlen will be indefinitely delayed."

Apart from this our Ministry has a majority and seems well content.

Nice, January 13, 1842.—I hear from Paris that M. de Salvandy has been ordered to return with all his attachés; his embassy will have been of very short duration. Thus we are on as bad terms with the extreme south of Europe as with the extreme north. Every one is agreed in saying that Espartero's demands were inadmissible and that he was urged to them by England.

Nice, January 16, 1842.—At St. Petersburg invitations have been withdrawn which had been sent to Casimir-Perier [50] for several parties, while the boxes at the theatre to the right and left of his own have been vacated by orders of the authority. What will be the end of all this?

Nice, January 17, 1842.—Yesterday I spent the latter half of the morning with the wife of the governor, the Comtesse de Maistre, who was at home with her family. Her sister-in-law [51] who is unmarried, is a clever person. M. de Maistre is an excellent talker and Madame de Maistre seems a most pleasant woman; I have spent the most enjoyable visits here, as regards conversation, that Nice can offer.

Nice, January 19, 1842.—Yesterday was a charming day and I went for a walk for two hours with my son-in-law, strolling by the sea, watching the poor galley slaves at work in the harbour; observing the effects of the sunlight on the sea and the brilliant reflections upon the mountains, the upper parts of which were covered with snow; watching also the ships with their lateen sails, and from time to time exchanging a few words with acquaintances who were attracted by this charming day to follow our example.

Madame de la Redorte writes from Paris that an unparalleled ovation has been given by the Carlist party to the Russian Chargé d'Affaires, M. de Kisseleff, after the outburst of personal feeling: he was triumphantly received at their club without any suggestion on his part. However, he has been invited to the great hall at the Tuileries and I presume he will appear there. She also says that the intimacy between M. Guizot and Madame de Lieven has become of such a character as to arouse public feeling, and that reference will probably be made to it in the Chamber of Deputies. The newspapers apparently take no notice of the matter.

Nice, January 20, 1842.—I spent yesterday morning in preparing the decorations for a quadrille which has been entrusted to my care. After dinner I dressed the hair of my four ladies; their entrance to the ball with their four gentlemen was most successful; Pauline and Fanny in blue and black, Madame de Césole and an Italian lady in rose and black, all four covered with diamonds and wearing the Spanish mantilla very gracefully. M. de Césole and Frederick Leveson, the son of Lord Granville, were the blue knights, while Lord Aston and a young Russian were the knights in rose colour. It was a pretty ball, excellently lighted, with a large number of tasteful and fashionable costumes, but I thought our quadrille was the prettiest of all. Madame de Césole and Pauline were the queens of the entertainment. Madame de Césole has a very Spanish face, and though worn by the cares of six children in immediate succession, she is still very pretty with the help of a little adornment; she is a very nice and pleasant person. Pauline looks quite beautiful: she is, moreover, very fashionable, much sought after, and takes the lead, more or less, everywhere. She seems to please every one, even the most serious, and her success makes her the more beautiful.

Nice, January 21, 1842.—I have a letter from the Duc de Noailles announcing the marriage of his daughter to their cousin Maurice. He then devoted four pages to eulogising the talent of Mlle. Rachel and told me that he is advising her to play Célimène, and that the chief advice he has given is to be deeply in love, as the whole secret of the part consists in that.

Yesterday the weather was very fine and I took advantage of it to ascend with my son-in-law, on foot, an imposing mountain which separates old from new Nice; a winding path has been made by which the ascent is comparatively easy. From the summit the view over the sea at certain times discloses not only the island of Sainte Marguerite, but also Corsica; to right and left the old and new town are spread out as in a panorama, while at the back one sees a circle of hills which shut in Nice from the north; these hills are covered with villas, churches and convents and stand out against a background of fine rocks which are over-topped by snow-covered peaks. The variety and extent of the view make this walk interesting. On the top of the mountain upon a wide expanse are to be found the remains of an old ruined fort.

Nice, January 24, 1842.—Yesterday after dinner I went to the Grand Duchess Stephanie, to hear a new play by Scribe read; it is making some stir in Paris and is called The Chain. It was read to us by M. de Maistre, who is a good reader. The play is in five acts; the dialogue is witty, the plot well developed and the stage management perfect, in short it is distinctly interesting, but to me the triviality of style characteristic of the author was obvious and an excessive complication of incident spoils the rapidity of the action and fatigues the spectator for the moment. On the stage it should go very well.

Barante writes: "Our little quarrel with Russia seems to be composed; pinpricks have been answered by pinpricks. The Emperor is pleased to let the matter drop and perhaps will behave more carefully in future. It is said that Count Pahlen may be back in six weeks. The fears of all the Russians here that they may be recalled from their dear Paris are quite amusing.

"M. de Salvandy is to arrive to-day, after an extraordinary experience as ambassador. The result would have been the same with any one else, but I am assured that his language, his attitude and his despatches have been something unheard-of in the annals of diplomacy. I am sorry, for he is an upright and excellent man of talent and sound judgment." So much for Barante. I have also a letter from Salvandy himself dated January 16 and written from Tours on his way back to Paris: "For six weeks I have lived in the midst of constant annoyance and apprehension, and continual work, with more despatches than any energetic and permanent embassy ever produced, has filled my days and my nights. I have encountered difficulties which I pointed out and in the face of which I received the strongest reassurances, but hateful intrigues rendered them insurmountable. For sixteen days no written message reached me and even ordinary couriers have been stopped. I protracted negotiations as long as possible, and cut them short when I was bound either to flee or to be driven away. Now what is to be done? One point I will guarantee, that France can do what she wishes in Spain; Spain has offered me full satisfaction for the insolence suggested to her authorities. At Bayonne I found an excellent note from Lord Aberdeen, hoping that English influence was not to be found in this matter and pronouncing in favour of the principles supported by France. At Paris I shall learn what will be the result of the business."

Nice, January 26, 1842.—The Duchesse d'Albuféra writes telling me that M. de Salvandy has returned to Paris and says that a large number of ridiculous observations are attributed to him; for instance, he is said to have written from Tolosa, "The French Embassy is touching the Pyrenees and to-morrow will pass the Bidassoa." At every stage he sent his attachés one after the other, riding headlong to Paris to announce his progress. He has left the young son of M. Decazes at Madrid as Chargé d'Affaires. The unanimous assent of the Cortes to Espartero's demands further complicates the question.

The new Stabat by Rossini is now the rage at Paris; it is said to be superb but by no means religious, and I hear that secular words would suit the composition quite as well. In any case it is enough to show that this fine musical genius is not dead, as might have been feared in view of his long silence. Grisi is said to be admirable in the solos of this Stabat; her head has been turned by the singer Mario; her husband wishes to separate from her but she declines for some reason unknown, while the refusal obliges her at this moment, for some reason unknown to me, to pay her husband eight hundred thousand francs, which by no means pleases the lady. She expressed her grief to Lablache who advised her, with his inimitable Italian accent, to have the separation rather than to pay and said, "But what does it matter to you? Everybody knows that you are a bad lot!" In view of so excellent a quotation, I make no further comment.

Nice, January 28, 1842.—Yesterday I called upon Princesse Marie who is confined to the house by indisposition. She told me of several royal marriages: that of Princess Marie of Prussia, the king's cousin, with the Crown Prince of Bavaria; this is a mixed marriage, but all the children will be brought up as Catholics. One of the young princesses of Bavaria is to marry the Hereditary Archduke of Modena; the Crown Prince of Sardinia will marry one of the daughters of the Archduke, who is Viceroy of Milan; while the Princess of Nassau, the half-sister of the reigning duke, is to marry the Prince of Neuwied. I wish that some husband could be found for poor Marie herself. I think this would be the best remedy for her mother's terrible attacks of nerves.

Madame de Lieven writes as follows: "Salvandy has been wanting in tact, Aston in goodwill, and the Spanish Government in common sense; for all this is obviously against its interests. Attempts have been made to point this out through other powers. Recent events at Madrid regarding the point of etiquette remove all possibility that Espartero's regency will be of long duration. The English Cabinet has espoused the cause of France, but somewhat late, for Salvandy had then gone, while Aston had previously supported the claims of Espartero. However, English opinion has been noted and will have full weight.

"I need say nothing further concerning the so-called indisposition of Périer and Kisseleff, as it has come to an end. My brother tells me that our Ambassador will shortly return here.

"The King of Prussia has actually gone to England. [52] Imagine that when he reached Ostend the English ships had not arrived. In general, people think that the King of Prussia has been more than obliging; certainly no great Sovereign ever did as much. Lord Melbourne will be present at the baptism, the Palmerstons have been invited for another day, and Lady Jersey I should think not at all. She has not seen the Queen since her husband was chief equerry. I do not know why King Leopold is not to be present at the baptism. It is strange."

Nice, February 2, 1842.—This is a day which used always to be kept as a festival in our house; M. de Talleyrand was born on February 2, 1754; he would now be eighty-eight years of age, and has been dead nearly four years. As one advances in life these painful anniversaries which mark progress with bitter memories become more frequent.

Yesterday I paid a visit to France with the Grand Duchess and a fairly numerous company, that is to say, we crossed the Var and went to the castle of Villeneuve which belongs to M. de Panis, a Provençal gentleman of considerable wealth and importance. I had met him before at the house of one of his cousins. He spends his winters at this residence near the Var: he has restored it and if he had not daubed the old walls and the great towers with yellow paint, it would be as remarkable for its architecture as it is for its position and the view.

Nice, February 7, 1842.—Yesterday in consequence of a headache I missed one of the chief amusements of Italy, the battle of confetti, which takes place on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday. Everybody was upon the promenade throwing handfuls, and I met people in the evening who had thrown so energetically that they could not raise their arms. This festival is a great delight to all the street boys who yell so loudly that I could hear them in my bed. A little French warship is in the harbour here: the crew disembarked and came on to the promenade and the sailors in holiday attire danced a special dance of their own. It was said to be very pretty. My son-in-law has invited the officers of the brig to be present at an entertainment given at his house this evening.

There is a strange custom in force here during the carnival: in the morning all the streets are full of masks and gaiety reaches the height of insanity, but at nightfall the masks disappear and every member of a confraternity assumes the dress of a penitent; men and women alike with candles in their hands follow processions which emerge at the same moment from every church, to the sound of bells; the priest bearing the holy sacrament under a canopy concludes the procession. Wherever these processions go they produce a strange effect: there are penitents in grey, white, black and red and every one in the streets falls upon their knees; the penitents sing and wave their candles and the general spectacle is rather gloomy than edifying. When these processions are over the masked balls begin. The processions are intended to expiate or counterbalance the excesses of the carnival.

Nice, February 8, 1842 (Shrove Tuesday).—Yesterday morning was spent in preparing Pauline's costumes. The Grand Duchess lent her some diamonds and these with her own and mine looked very well. She was very pretty and gave an excellent reproduction of the difficult part of the Duchesse de Chevreuse in A Duel under Richelieu, which is a high-flown melodrama: this was followed by a duo-bouffe sung by two Italians and then came a little piece, The Heirs, in which my son-in-law took the part of Alain most creditably. The whole company acted very well, the room was pretty and all the accessories perfect. The actors came to supper at my house and the Grand Duchess surprised me by appearing. She insisted that my health should be drunk, as the entertainment was given for my birthday which was on the 6th of February but was put off to avoid falling upon a Sunday. The party did not break up until two o'clock in the morning; it was somewhat tiring but they all showed such kindness to me that I could not but be duly grateful and have an agreeable recollection of it.

Nice, February 9, 1842 (Ash Wednesday).—Yesterday I was able to take part in all the carnival absurdities in progress. First there was lunch with dancing at the house of a great Russian lady, which is situated in one of the finest gardens in Nice. We then went to Corso where the battle of confetti had already begun. I was with the Grand Duchess, Princesse Marie and Fanny: after driving round we halted upon a reserved terrace from which we were able to throw our handfuls upon the passers by; they replied from below and the most fashionable threw little bunches of violets or roses instead of confetti or sweets. Sweets are thrown with a kind of spoon with which they can be sent a long way; the women wear masks of iron wire, for if these sweets are thrown vigorously they can hurt when they strike the bare flesh. What is remarkable but real, is the kind of fury which comes over the coolest, and people lose their heads sooner or later. Pauline was more excited than any one in the Corso. I was told that the late Emperor of Austria, Francis II., who was certainly anything but a lively character, happened to be at Rome in carnival time and took part in the contest like a madman. Members of fashionable society show the greatest vigour; the common people only think of picking up the sweets. The military band was playing at the end of the promenade, the weather was superb and we stayed out of doors until nightfall without feeling cold. At half-past eight there was a ball given by some other foreigners, which was by far the prettiest, the best arranged and the most cheerful of all that have been given here.

The Grand Duchess has told me a piece of news which vexes her: Princess Alexandrina of Baden is to marry the Hereditary Prince of Coburg; it is hard for her to see possible husbands passing her daughter by, seeing that Princesse Marie is far pleasanter, more distinguished and richer than her cousin. The Grand Duchess is anxious to know what will become of her daughter after her, especially in view of the death of the Queen Dowager of Bavaria. She is also uneasy concerning the Wasa family, whose affairs are terribly involved.

Nice, February 10, 1842.—The weather yesterday was incomparable and the month of May is not more beautiful at Paris, so after hearing the office of the Ashes and lunching, we took advantage of the weather. The Castellanes in their little carriage drawn by two Corsican ponies, Fanny, Count Schulenburg, my brother-in-law, who had come from Milan to pay me a short visit, and myself, went to Villefranche, a picturesque little seaport; the road thither was not very easy, but the view was admirable. A Sardinian warship was leaving the harbour and from the top of the fort which serves as a state prison, we saw her setting sail and making the necessary manœuvres to catch the breeze before she left the harbour and entered the open sea. The slow and measured movements of the fine ship gliding over a sea of marble and diamonds, with the white sails shining in the southern sun, formed one of the most beautiful sights conceivable and one which strikes the mind even more than the eyes.

Nice, February 17, 1842.—Yesterday I received the following letter from poor Salvandy; "Since my return I have been overcome with a constant sense of deep depression, disgust and weariness; an attack of gout has come rather as a help than as an additional burden, as it has excused me from going out or seeing people; only for the last few days have I been in communication with the salons. I should need volumes to tell you all that has astonished or saddened me upon my return. My action has received entire approval, except as concerns my long delay before leaving Madrid; whereas society accuses me of acting with undue precipitation. In the comparatively narrow circle where I thought I had my friends, I have encountered most unwelcome malevolence. I find that my period of delay by which I hoped to facilitate the adoption of a policy, if any were possible, has been used to poison public feeling against me; society ladies can repeat numberless quotations from my despatches, naturally imaginary or distorted; ladies, moreover, whom I thought would be most likely to take my part, as they are those who are in closest touch with the chief officials of the department. However, as I have been obliged to send all my despatches to the great Courts, marks of flattering approval have been returned. Saint-Aulaire writes to say that they are imperishable memorials of public right, and Bresson sends me a similar message from the Prussian Court.

"The Ministerial position here seems to me very precarious. You will see the amount of our majority yesterday; only eight votes upon the question of incompatibility. I am inclined to think that we may do better upon the electoral question, but MM. de Lamartine, Passy, Dupin and Dufaure will speak against the Ministry; supposing that we are successful in spite of this effort, a shock remains which we shall probably not survive. What will happen then? A Cabinet without Thiers or Guizot is difficult to form and even more difficult to maintain in office, and if the one was not possible the other will not be yet; but I am entirely outside this movement. On the day of my arrival when I had an attack of gout, I hastened to pay my respects to the King, the Prince Royal, Queen Christina and M. Guizot, being convinced that I should not be able to do so the next day, and in fact I have been confined for several days to my armchair."

Madame de Lieven writes to-day as follows: "The King of Prussia has won golden opinions at London; he pleased the Court, the town, the clergy, the journalists and the people. Even that which we from a distance are inclined to think too sentimental has been successful in England; I mean his acts of worship with Mrs. Fry, [53] &c. He is said to be seriously meditating a union of the Anglican and Lutheran churches, and it is thought that something will come of his journey to England from this point of view. I do not think that the idea will please his subjects and at Paris it is received with much opposition.

"The entertainment given to the King by the Duke of Sutherland was fairy-like; he is said to have been greatly struck by it. Some sign of boredom with Court life on his part is thought to have been perceived. The Queen's evening receptions do not amuse him nor is he interested by her conversation, or by her handsome husband playing chess like an automaton.

"Sainte-Aulaire pleases the English as much as ever and his wife will soon start to rejoin him. Barante is awaiting the return of Pahlen. Some people think that he will not return, but we shall see.

"The carnival was magnificent and the ball given by the Duc d'Orléans more magnificent than any ball under the Empire or the Restoration. People are now occupied with domestic matters; the Ministry combats all reforms and the reformers are fairly strong.

"Lehon will not return here as ambassador. The Cowleys open their house next week."

It is true that the King of Prussia's journey to London caused much displeasure at Berlin. It was thought that a great Sovereign was going to too much trouble and expense and showing too much courtesy to a Queen so distantly related. National pride and avarice were wounded. The presents brought by the King were magnificent and his fortnight's tour during which he was the Queen's guest in England, is said to have cost him a million crowns, which is an enormous sum for poverty-stricken Prussia. Moreover the religious reunion to which Madame de Lieven refers is exactly what Prussia does not want; the late King, who was greatly honoured, nearly brought confusion upon his country by interfering too constantly with religious practices and dogma, and the seeds of ill-temper still remain in the country to the inconvenience of the Government. If these should be restored to life, men's minds and, what is worse, their consciences will be in a ferment and an additional cause of discord will be introduced into a country where religious feeling is already very sensitive.

Nice, February 21, 1842.—Yesterday I went to the convent of Saint Barthélemy. It is customary here to go every Sunday during Lent to hear vespers in one of the many convents by which Nice is surrounded. The whole population goes out, eats and drinks in front of the churches, where toys and flowers are sold. Music and dancing are forbidden during Lent, and popular pleasures are therefore reduced to eating. The crowds of people, the carriages, the donkeys, and the riding horses of strangers make the scene animated and pretty.

Nice, February 23, 1842.—I have just heard of the death of poor Pozzo di Borgo. It was best for him and for his family that his life should end, as he merely vegetated. He leaves an income of four hundred thousand francs; half to his nephew Charles, the husband of Mlle. de Crillon, with his residence in Paris and his villa at Saint Cloud, and the remainder to his relatives in Corsica.

Nice, February 25, 1842.—Yesterday there was a heartrending scene in front of my windows; a terrible storm arose which has not even to-day sunk to rest; the unfortunate ships were struggling with the fury of the waves the whole day, and we sat for a long time watching their fate. Fortunately none were lost.

In spite of the terrible weather I went out to take my offering to a collection which was being made for the Sisters of Saint Vincent de Paul, at the hospice which they conduct. There I saw Mlle. de Maistre, the eldest daughter of the Governor, who is twenty-one years of age and is spending her novitiate as a Sister of Charity in the hospice. She has a definite call to the work, and seems happy; she is said to be clever and well educated, as all the family are; she has a pleasant face, intelligent and calm.

M. Pasquier, I am told, is being complimented on his nomination to the French Academy. M. Molé will introduce M. de Tocqueville, and M. de Barante will do the same for M. Ballanche; I do not know who will introduce M. Pasquier. M. de Tocqueville is taking the place of M. de Cessac, formerly director of the Ministry of War under the Empire, and not a promising subject for a eulogy; indeed, it will be difficult for any one to treat it, and especially so for M. de Tocqueville, who does not belong to that time either in point of age or mental habits. He mentioned his difficulty to M. Thiers, who told him that he might perhaps be able to help him and would give him some interesting information, as he possesses letters from the Emperor to M. de Cessac which he would send him. M. de Tocqueville, in fact, received the next day, in an envelope, a letter from Napoleon to M. de Cessac, which began as follows: "My dear Cessac, you are a fool." M. de Tocqueville himself related this amusing incident to his cousin, the Marquis d'Espeuil, who is here. M. d'Espeuil married Mlle. de Chateaubriand, a near relation of M. de Tocqueville.

Nice, February 27, 1842.—I have a letter from M. de Barante who seems less certain concerning the return of Count Pahlen to Paris; probably the return will be indefinitely delayed until some incident settles the matter one way or the other. Meanwhile Périer is at St. Petersburg and his official position is quite correct, but society continues to regard him as an outcast, wishing to show that its sense of patriotism and self-respect has been wounded.

Barante gives me better news of the domestic situation. The majority of forty-one seems to be really important, as the opposition, which combined every shade of opinion, had set all their hopes upon this discussion. The Minister himself hardly expected so large a majority. The speeches of M. Dufaure and M. de Lamartine were received by the Centres with the strongest censure; every word which seemed to conform to the doctrines of the Left aroused opposition; in short, there is a certain reaction in favour of order and conservatism. We have now to see if it will have any influence upon the elections. If this hope were realised, France would be in a better position than for the last ten years. Such at least is the idea of Barante, though he is rather optimistic.

He also tells me that M. de Chateaubriand, whom he met at Madame Récamier's house at the Abbaye-au-Bois, has grown surly, taciturn and displeased with everybody and everything. Madame Récamier has a difficult task, as her business is to soothe the touchiness of wounded pride and to provide a series of the successes for which alone M. de Chateaubriand cares to live. I could never feel the smallest sympathy for this barren and vain character.

Nice, March 3, 1842.—This evening we are to celebrate Mid-Lent by an entertainment from which I would gladly be excused, not that I anticipate any bad results, but because I think pleasure of this kind, if it is not to result in a fiasco, demands more time and trouble than it is worth. Moreover the Castellanes have given me the task of sending out the invitations, and my fingers are worn out with writing addresses: further, I myself and none other have to make the four costumes of Pauline and those of Charles de Talleyrand: then they want me to coach them in their parts; I am to receive the company; I have also to play in a wretched little scene in the second piece, which is trifling, but I have to learn my part and repeat it, and finally I have to provide supper for the actors. This is too much. However, I have spent my life in being tyrannised over by somebody, and to give way is, I think, a part that I have least forgotten in my past life, and I have sometimes obeyed more reluctantly than now.

Nice, March 4, 1842.—I feel somewhat stupid this morning: yesterday's performance was too long, and the supper which followed it prolonged the evening still further. I think people were amused. The prettiest part of the entertainment was the prologue composed by my son-in-law. It was a clever criticism of the previous performance, in which a handsome young boy satirised the different actors and suggested a young débutante to take the place of the prima donna, who was supposed to be suddenly indisposed: then two boys dressed as lacqueys of the last century brought in a little sedan chair, gilded and surmounted by a crown of lighted candles; from this chair came out my little girl, Marie, in full dress of the time of Louis XV., powdered wig, long dress and many diamonds. Nothing could have been prettier, more dignified, more stately and gracious. On leaving her chair she went round the stage exactly like a great lady. The prologue was charming and was greatly appreciated; I foolishly began to weep with emotion on seeing the gracefulness of this dear child. The melodrama was very well played: the Malade Imaginaire was not sufficiently well known or taken sufficiently briskly; moreover it made the entertainment much too long. The costumes of the melodrama were magnificent, and in the Malade Imaginaire were precisely those of Molière's age. To conclude, the three couplets at the end, composed by the Grand Duchess, were charming and in the best of taste.

Nice, March 14, 1842.—Prince Wasa arrived here yesterday from Florence, where he has left his wife, to pay a few days' visit to his mother-in-law, the Grand Duchess Stephanie. I think she would have been glad to avoid this attention. She took him about everywhere as soon as he arrived, and we met them on the French schooner, commanded by M. de Clérambault. A party of us, including the Castellanes, Fanny, Charles de Talleyrand and myself, paid a visit to this vessel and to the yacht of Lord Ranelagh, which is also at anchor in the harbour at Nice. M. de Clérambault was a comrade of my son, M. de Dino, when he was serving in the Navy. I was much impressed to see in his cabin, round his mother's portrait, a rosary and a little crucifix which had been given him by the Pope on the condition that he would hang them up in his cabin, which he scrupulously does. This young officer greatly distinguished himself at the capture of Saint Juan d'Ulloa [54] and was decorated in consequence at the age of twenty-eight. What a pity my son did not follow the same career.

Nice, March 15, 1842.—Yesterday morning was devoted to the open air. The Grand Duchess had arranged a picnic of twenty people, including ourselves. We drove, each from our own starting-places, to an inn situated at the top of a mountain which rises between the bay of Nice and that of Villefranche; then returning by another mountain we went to Beaulieu, where we lunched under great olive-trees. After this we mounted donkeys and followed a rather narrow path round the bay of Saint-Soupir and reached Saint-Hospice, where Lord Ranelagh's yacht was lying. The weather was so fine, the sea so calm and the distance so short that even I was persuaded to venture. However, far from being contrary, the wind was so light that we hardly moved, and spent an hour and a half in returning to Nice, a journey usually made in half an hour.

Nice, March 18, 1842.—Madame de Lieven writes that Sainte-Aulaire is giving great satisfaction, both at London and at Paris, but there is and will be, none the less, a certain amount of friction between the two Cabinets. The King of Prussia will go to St. Petersburg at the end of June.

M. Bresson writes that Count Maltzan is not likely to take the portfolio of Foreign Affairs, and it is not yet known whether the King will decide to replace him with Kanitz or Bülow. The two men represent divergent views. Kanitz is a pietist and legitimist, while Bülow is neither one nor the other.

Nice, March 21, 1842.—For some days I have been feeling distinctly ill, and the day before yesterday my feverishness became so pronounced that I was obliged to go to bed, and was soon afterwards covered with an eruption all over my body. It is an epidemic which has been prevalent here for the last fortnight, and is called in Italian rosalia; it is a medium between scarlatina and measles, and is less malignant than either of these diseases, though at the same time it makes the patient feel very ill.

Nice, March 24, 1842.—People here are very kind, and every one shows more interest in me than I deserve on account of my illness. The Grand Duchess came to see me as soon as her daughter was attacked by the same disease, and her fears of carrying infection were removed. The Comtesse Adèle de Maistre, a sister of the Governor—a kind, clever, and benevolent saint, who has taken a fancy to me—nurses me as if I was her sister, for which I am deeply grateful. The good prior of the Récollets de Cimier heard from his mendicant brother, who brings me flowers in exchange for what I put in his wallet, that I was ill, and came to see me; I was very glad to see him. The doctor assures me that my convalescence is in sight, and that in a few days he will allow me to go into the open air. In this climate eruptive sicknesses are not as serious as they are elsewhere.

Nice, March 27, 1842.—Society here is about to disperse. However, some foreign families remain at Nice even during the summer; the climate and the cheapness of living induces many people to stay, if not permanently, at any rate for several years in succession.

This morning I was suddenly aroused by cannon-shots, announcing Easter Day. These, with the rattles of the street boys and the guns of the garrisons, made an appalling uproar. Yesterday all the houses, and every room in every house, were blessed by one of the parish priests, who sprinkles all the dwellings with water, and is followed by a choir-boy.

A letter from Germany, which I have just received, gives me some news of considerable importance to my personal interests. My nephew has definitely refused to agree to the arrangement proposed by his mother, and my sister has sold me the whole of the allodial part of Sagan, or the part which she claimed to be subject to this condition. This will considerably complicate my business, and will absolutely force me to travel to Prussia next year.

Nice, March 29, 1842.—Yesterday I went for a drive, and left cards upon all who had inquired for me during my illness. I feel that the open air did me much good.

M. de Barante writes to say that M. de Rémusat is giving readings from a work called Abélard; [55] he speaks of it as a singular production in dramatic form, the reading of which will occupy three sessions of three hours each—a very long period.

Nice, March 30, 1842.—I hope soon to leave this town, and I shall write more freely as soon as I am on French territory; for in the Sardinian states before a letter arrives or leaves its starting-place, it has generally been opened several times. The traces are obvious, and this knowledge has often paralysed my pen.

Nice, April 1, 1842.—Yesterday evening I went to a great ball given by the Duke of Devonshire, as a conclusion to the season at Nice. Like everything that he does, it was magnificent; the lighting of the hall was especially novel and beautiful; there were no chandeliers, but three great arches formed of palm branches and surmounted with a row of candles; each of these arches was placed upon the pillars at each side of the hall, a most novel and tasteful device. I there said good-bye to all the company present. I leave Nice fairly well satisfied with my stay. There have been some drawbacks, but the good side outweighs the bad, and my general recollections will be pleasant.

Aix-en-Provence, April 3, 1842.—I left Nice yesterday and was very sorry to part from the Castellane trio. They are no less sorry at my departure. The weather was superb, the sea a deep blue, the flowers abundant and the road admirable as far as Cannes. The hills of the Esterel were still somewhat rough. I came on here without stopping, hoping to find the Abbé Dupanloup and to have a talk with him. I only missed him by an hour. He has been forced to go forward without stopping, owing to the regulations of the postal service; he left me a little note expressing his regret. I am now starting for Nîmes and shall go by way of Arles, a road which I do not know. Nîmes I visited during my first journey to the south, in 1817, a terribly long time ago.

Nîmes, April 5, 1842.—I arrived here yesterday evening. It was raining when we passed by Arles and I was unable to visit the points of interest. I was especially struck by the new and magnificent road, full of works of art, which crosses the most frightful country in the world and leads here from Aix. First of all it crosses a district called the Crau, which is horribly sterile and is composed of nothing but pebbles. Water has been drawn from the Durance to irrigate this accursed land by an infinity of little canals. It can only be hoped that these measures may evoke a little vegetation. From Arles onwards the country is less ugly, though the Camargue is not beautiful, and apart from some wild oxen I saw nothing curious. The girls of Arles have a great reputation for their beauty and their pretty costumes. Here I was unfortunate, for I saw nothing but very ugly faces and very dirty and slovenly dresses.

My travelling companions, Fanny, her governess and Charles de Talleyrand are starting to see the Pont du Gard which I saw a long time ago. On their return we shall visit the curiosities of the town and go on together to Montpellier.

Montpellier, April 6, 1842.—Yesterday we visited the antiquities of Nîmes, which I was glad to see again. They are well preserved, and I can remember that some years ago they made me understand the charm of real proportion. Unfortunately the weather is wretched and it is very vexing to encounter rain in a country which constantly suffers from drought.

Toulouse, April 8, 1842.—We left Montpellier the day before yesterday at the end of the morning. I gave lunch to the Rector of the Academy [56] and to his eldest daughter who is my goddaughter, for her mother, who died of the cholera, had been brought up with me, and I have always kept up my connection with this very estimable family. Then we went to see the Fabre [57] museum which is poor, and the better chosen and better arranged museum of the Marquis of Montcalm. Finally, under umbrellas, we went round the famous promenade of Peyrou. In good weather, which we did not enjoy yesterday, the sea, the Pyrenees, the Cévennes and the Alps, can be seen from a certain point. All that we could see was the castle, the aqueducts and the equestrian statue of Louis XIV.

Bordeaux, April 10, 1842.—We came on here from Toulouse without stopping. The weather was better but a bitter wind succeeded the rain, and I am now taking care of myself by the fire while the others explore the town. I have repeatedly visited the south of France and can now afford to take my travelling duties easily. To-day we shall start again, and the day after to-morrow, if God wills, we shall sleep at Rochecotte. I am longing to be at rest in my own dear home.

Letters from Berlin say that Bülow is really to succeed Maltzan. He owes his triumph to the fact that he is the opposite of Kanitz. Maltzan is in a sanatorium at Charlottenberg.

Madame de Lieven has fallen a victim to influenza: M. Guizot does not leave her bedside; both are absolute devotees to music. M. Guizot will talk of nothing else and professes inability to sleep after visiting the opera. He is the subject of much ridicule in consequence.

The military manœuvres this summer will extend from Alsace to Champagne. Such towns as Châlons, Vitry, &c., will be attacked. The Duc d'Orléans will lead the forces.

Rochecotte, April 13, 1842.—At last I am at home again! At Bordeaux while we were at lunch I had an unexpected call from the Abbé Genoude. I have often met him on different occasions, but never in my own house. He was staying in the same hotel, had just been preaching, and so paid me this unexpected attention. He is a clever and even an agreeable man, and is anxious to be gracious and insinuating. I was extremely polite, as he is not a good subject for rebuffs, but I went no further. As he went out he drew Charles de Talleyrand aside; he often used to see his mother in times past, and told him that his newspaper was entirely at my orders [58] if at any time I wished to insert anything. This is very strange and very characteristic of the age.

Rochecotte, April 16, 1842.—I have a letter from Toulouse from the Castellanes. They are waiting until the sea will allow them to cross to Corsica; however, if the weather does not moderate in two days they intend to go to Perpignan by land. I hope I shall find that they have executed this latter idea.

Rochecotte, April 17, 1842.—The Castellanes have decided for Corsica [59].

Sainte-Aulaire writes to me from London as follows: "I have not left my most troublesome task to the end of my labours: the failure to ratify the treaty, the controversy concerning Algiers, and more than all the Anglophobia which our press maintains and proclaims, has made my political position somewhat difficult. Beneath all this friction, however, there is a desire and a necessity upon either side to avoid a breach. Upon this I am attempting to work and it will eventually have its effect. I am very kindly treated by society. The Court is cold but polite."

M. de Salvandy writes from Paris; "Politics are pervaded by a cold and morose spirit. M. Guizot's influence is now predominant. Questions concerning the right of visitation are causing him much trouble and perplexity. The King is very busy with the Spanish question and that of marriage; the mission of M. Pageot is bearing fruit; the vetos which I have advised and secured have obviated resolutions which would have been disgraceful and dangerous. Only a Bourbon will reign over Spain. Meanwhile M. Molé is turning to literature: on Thursday he will introduce M. de Tocqueville to the French Academy; if fortune favours him, this will be an event, for he is gaining ground and strengthening his position by absence and retirement. Of the three rivals, Thiers loses ground whether he is in action or repose: M. Guizot is likely to lose by action what he gains by speech; M. Molé is strengthening his position by inaction and silence after improving it in the struggle."

Rochecotte, April 21, 1842.—There is to be an entertainment to-day at the Tuileries. Polyeucte and Richard Cœur de Lion will be played.

The Queen is to take a seat in the Academy this morning for the reception of M. de Tocqueville by M. Molé; these formalities are becoming quite fashionable.

Public opinion in Paris is rising against England and shows some exasperation concerning the right of visitation. We are assured that the electors will require from the deputies undertakings in their manifestoes not to yield upon this point. Madame de Lieven, who is generally optimistic, is said to be much depressed and to be repeating that things are going wrong. At London the one topic is a fancy dress ball for May 12 which has thrown the ladies into great excitement; they are sending to Paris for pictures and models.

Pauline writes to me from Ajaccio that she is very pleased with her expedition and she has already forgotten the thirty-six hours' seasickness and is on her way to Sardinia with her husband. This news arouses considerable misgivings in my mind, but her energy shows that she is strong again and at any rate it keeps her away from the cold of Auvergne; moreover, if she is interested and happy what more can be wished?

Rochecotte, April 22, 1842.—Barante writes on the evening before the session of the Academy, to which I have referred: "The session will be very fine: both speeches are quite remarkable; it will be a grave but courteous tournament on the questions of the Revolution, the Empire and the Democracy. M. Royer-Collard is delighted by the prospect; public opinion is quite eager and the Academy pleased to find itself so fashionable. I fear that when I introduce M. Ballanche next week I shall not come off so well, for the work of the subject of my speech obliges me to give a philosophical address which is perhaps a little too solemn both for the occasion and the audience.

"Politics are entirely preoccupied by questions of railway construction, and how the deputies will disentangle these matters I do not know."

Rochecotte, April 24, 1842.—My letters from Paris and the newspapers are full of the speeches of M. Molé and of M. de Tocqueville: they agree in saying that the former was quite successful and the latter extremely wearisome; what I have read myself in the Journal des Débats leaves me with the same impression.

The newspapers report the death of Marshals Moncey and Clausel.

Rochecotte, April 25, 1842.—So far as I can hear the methods of amusement adopted by young ladies of the present day are quite unparalleled; the clique known as the lionnes devise forms of entertainment worthy of the Regency. On this question I remember the answer of M. de Talleyrand to a young lady who replied somewhat rudely that during his youth people were just as bad; "that may be," said M. de Talleyrand, "but not in the same way."

Madame Mollien sends me an account of the entertainment at the Tuileries. She says that the room when every one had taken their places was a fine sight, but that order was preceded by a period of utter chaos. The authorities had resolved that everybody should make their way to the drawing-room and follow the Royal Family. The result was that the last princess was followed by a general rush of all the ladies, without any respect for rank or position: the crowd grew denser as it advanced, and the rush degenerated into a battle; Madame de Toreno lost her mantilla, and this part of the proceedings was perfection of its kind. The dramatic performance was dull: although the King set the example by applauding, he was not imitated; a want of harmony between the audience and the stage was obvious. M. Thiers went sound asleep.

Paris is raised to universal enthusiasm by a portrait of the Duc d'Orléans which Ingres had just painted and which is said to be admirable.

Rochecotte, April 17, 1842.—The castle of Coblentz is being rebuilt as a royal residence: eight hundred workmen are now occupied in making it habitable for next autumn, as the King of Prussia proposes to spend September and October there.

The following is a copy of M. Royer-Collard's opinion of the session of the Academy: "M. Molé carried off the honours and overshadowed M. de Tocqueville, in my opinion, unjustly. I had read the speeches and was keenly interested by M. de Tocqueville's, although I could foresee that it would not rouse the sympathies of the audience. Elevation of thought, some admirable passages and fine ideas, did not counterbalance the accuracy of the criticism. I then learnt that the Emperor and the Empire have a greater influence over men's minds than I was aware. M. Molé had realised the fact more clearly than myself and had turned it to excellent account: to considerable talent and an infinite power of dissimulation he adds a sprightliness of delivery which will never be surpassed. The laudation of the Empire and the blackening of the democracy were the vengeance which he took upon the superior speech of M. de Tocqueville." M. Royer-Collard has announced that he will no longer come forward as a candidate for election; probably one of his nephews will take his place in the next Chamber.

Here is an extract from Madame de Lieven's letter; as always, I give it word for word: "There is very little prospect of seeing Pahlen back at Paris. People think that Gourieff will possibly be sent: he is a clever man and immensely rich; his wife is still pretty and inclined to flirtation, so these qualities will suit Paris very well. You will be sorry to hear of the misfortune which overtook M. Humann this morning; he has just had an apoplectic stroke and there is no hope of his recovery. You used to see him often at Baden as I sometimes did, and both of us liked him. He was a figure of some importance, and it will be difficult to find any one to take his place. Queen Victoria is wholly occupied with her fancy dress ball: she will appear as Queen Philippa and insists that her Court should wear costumes of that age; Lord Jersey is obliged to agree, much to his consternation. His married daughter has arrived at Vienna [60] and Prince Paul Esterhazy wishes to go to London in order to prevent Lady Jersey from following her daughter. It is even said that he wishes to retain his post, but Metternich asserts that the ambassador does not reside at Vienna. Paul Medem is in high favour with the Metternich household. Arnim is going away on leave and Bernstorff will take his place meanwhile. I am astonished that Bülow should have sent him here; I have an idea that Bülow will endeavour to be a very interfering Minister. Queen Isabella's marriage occupies the attention of every Cabinet, including that of Vienna, but no one knows what the end of the affair will be."

I am sorry to hear of M. Humann's death: he was kind and obliging, and was a man of original and distinguished talent; only a week ago he spoke very kindly of me to the Duchesse d'Albuféra, and a kind character will always be regretted. The Journal des Débats also reports the death of Bertin de Veaux. I feel it to be sad news, though he had fallen out of our society for some time. He had a remarkable mind and was very good-hearted; he remained most affectionate to myself and to the memory of M. de Talleyrand. For twenty years he had enjoyed our intimacy, shared our family habits and our confidence; and thus the ranks are thinned and one's loneliness grows apace.

Rochecotte, April 28, 1842.—The Cabinet has wisely completed its numbers without delay [61] and has forced M. Lacave Laplagne to take the vacancy on the refusal of M. Passy, but the loss of M. Humann is none the less real and the perplexity of the Ministry has correspondingly increased. Yesterday's newspaper relates a somewhat amusing remark by Marshal Soult, who said when he heard of several deaths during the last week, "Indeed! Apparently they are beating the roll-call in the next world."

Rochecotte, May 2, 1842.—I have heard from the Castellanes from Bonifacio at the moment when they were about to cross to Sardinia. This unusual expedition, thank Heaven, has been a great success. They should now be on their way from Toulon to Perpignan. I shall be glad to hear that they have returned to the Continent, if only because I shall have news of them more constantly and more regularly.

The successful confinement of the Duchesse de Nemours and the birth of the Comte d'Eu has naturally caused much delight among the Royal Family.

Rochecotte, May 5, 1842.—I have heard from Pauline from Toulon; she gives no details, as she was disembarking, but I know that she is on dry land and am relieved.

The Duc de Orléans wished to hear the Abélard of M. de Rémusat and spent three evenings at the house of Madame Récamier for that purpose. A dozen members of the Opposition were also there, including M. and Madame Thiers.

Rochecotte, May 6, 1842.—The Castellanes are now at Perpignan and are delighted with their tour in Corsica and Sardinia. Pauline rode on horseback with a dagger in her waist-belt: she slept in the house of the bandits and supped with Orso della Robbia, the hero of Colomba; [62] she took shelter beneath the rock where the two gunshots were fired and accepted, as a token of admiration, a dagger stained with blood shed in the vendetta. The best part of it is that she had the strength to go through these wanderings, that she is perfectly happy and interested, that her husband is delighted with the accomplishment of so original an enterprise, while their little Marie is as healthy and cheerful as ever.

The Carlist party is dividing more and more. The Duc de Noailles is at the head of the moderate faction, which grows stronger. Berryer remains at the head of the other, which is little more than a group, and is steadily drifting towards the left.

Rochecotte, May 10, 1842.—I have had good news from the Castellanes. I miss them greatly. The pleasant company of Pauline, the infinite resource of Henri's conversation and the pretty ways of Marie, are a great help to me: I can trust myself to them and never feel tired, and in their society I can unbend; they have become quite necessary to me; they form part of all my projects and plans for the future, and I cannot conceive my old age separated from them. I flatter myself that I too have a real part in their life. Yesterday I had a charming letter from Henri, full of confidence and tenderness, saying what I was to them and to himself in particular. As soon as his eccentricities have been forgotten, his good qualities become a real tie of affection; he is entirely upright, loyal and sincere, of high moral dignity and perfect nobility of heart. Louis, my son, is also a pleasant companion and perfectly reliable; Alexandre has his good points, but his position embitters his character and destroys the equability of his temper. I am sometimes very sorry for him, as financial reasons do not allow him to take the position he would prefer. He is fond of his children, for which I do him full justice: I also am fond of his granddaughter, who is sweet and pretty, and I grow sad at the thought of what her future may be. At one time I was able to do without children quite easily, but now I am entirely changed, and I feel that something is really wanting when one or more of these little people are not about me. I can give them my time with real earnest and feel greatly drawn to these weak little beings for whom Providence may have such great and strange destinies in store. It is strange how age changes one's character, and it is a great blessing granted by Providence which thus enables us to avoid many a thorn in our paths.

Rochecotte, May 11, 1842.—Newspapers yesterday told us of the dreadful accident that happened on the railway on the left bank from Versailles to Paris: the details are appalling. Galignani gives them in full, though the exact number or the names of the dead are not yet known. The bodies, especially those which suffered from fire, are so disfigured as to make identification impossible. Since the railways were opened, this is the greatest, the most complicated and dreadful accident which has occurred. I think the damages should be enormous; the authorities will then be more careful, for accidents only happen from want of precaution and attention.

Rochecotte, May 15, 1842. (Whit Sunday.)—M. de Barante arrived yesterday at the end of the morning, pleasant, kind and affectionate as ever. The people he found here are something of an obstacle to conversation. He told me no news of any importance and his own future remains very uncertain. If the health of M. de La Tour Maubourg remains as deplorable as it is, he will be obliged to retire and Barante will then go to Rome. The question of St. Petersburg may remain open for a long time.

The only topic of conversation at Paris is the lavish magnificence of Mr. Hope's residence and the entertainments given there. They are said to equal nothing less than the drawing-rooms of Versailles under Louis XIV. [63]

Rochecotte, May 16, 1842.—Yesterday as I was driving to mass at the parish church, the coachman insisted upon taking a wrong turning through the woods in spite of my remonstrances. He upset the carriage and broke his right leg. Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde and myself were sitting at the back of the carriage, Madame de Dino and M. de Barante in front, while Jacques was on the seat behind. He jumped in time and suffered no harm: Barante and my daughter-in-law were also unscathed; as I was sitting on the side towards which the carriage overturned, Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde fell upon me and I was thus crushed by my neighbour and the hood of the carriage. We were rescued by some people who were going to mass. Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde wrenched the muscles of her neck in trying to hold herself back; but the only real subject for pity was the coachman. The rest of the day was spent in recovering from the shock of this event and in the various little cares necessitated by it.

Rochecotte, May 17, 1842.—I am still shaken by the fall of the day before yesterday and feel some pain from the bruises which were caused by it. It will be several days before the effects of this accident have entirely worn off. The coachman is going on as well as can be expected.

Yesterday I spent almost the whole of the morning sitting in the open air in charming weather. There is no news of any kind, nor did anything happen of the least interest during the day. Barante's interesting and charming conversation is a great resource for me during the few days that he is spending here. It is a long time since such a piece of good luck fell to my share. I am enjoying it infinitely, and with the more satisfaction because my belief in him is as complete as my pleasure is real. He is upright, trustworthy and kind to such an extent that he can be entirely relied upon. He is a deeply pious character and his intellect is neither exhausted nor limited.

Rochecotte, May 30, 1842.—Yesterday we went to the parish church for the Fête Dieu. We followed the procession in a blazing sun to the resting-place where the little Clémentine de Dino had been carried. The priest placed the holy sacrament upon her head; this is said to bring children good luck. The little girl, who is very sweet and pretty, behaved herself delightfully. She was in the arms of her nurse, a pretty woman on her knees, in the midst of the people, the incense, the flowers and the beauties of nature, and the spectacle was delightful; it affected me to tears and I earnestly prayed from my grandmother's heart that the little girl might become a good and honourable Christian.

Rochecotte, June 1, 1842.—The Duc d'Orléans proposes to make a long tour of military inspection as a preliminary to the manœuvres. It is said that he will have an interview with the King of the Low Countries at Luxemburg. Duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar is coming to Paris, and Duke Gustavus of Mecklenburg, the other uncle of the Duchesse d'Orléans, is already there. The Emperor of Brazil is to marry the last sister of the King of Naples.

The Ministry has experienced some checks in the discussion upon the budget; rumours are spreading that it may suffer a defeat during the elections.

Lord Cowley has invited the Princes to be present at a ball to be given on the 24th, Queen Victoria's birthday; they have declined. England thus appears not to be in the fashion. I am astonished that the Prince de Joinville and the Duc d'Aumale should choose this moment for a journey to England.

The Charivari contains two articles which are said to libel Madame de Lieven and M. Guizot; one is called "Two Pigeons," the other "A Drive in a Pony Chaise by Moonlight."

Queen Christina has ostensibly hired Malmaison as a summer residence. The truth seems to be that she has bought it through a third person.

The Prince de Polignac is at Paris for the marriage of his son with Mlle. de Crillon, and walks about the streets without arousing the smallest curiosity. The Legitimists who have a violent grudge against him, decline to notice him.

I hear from Nice that the Grand Duchess Stephanie, when her daughter was cured of the rosalie, felt some premonitory symptoms of the same malady which she neglected, with her habitual imprudence, and went for a sail against her doctor's advice. The vessel was delayed and she returned home very ill. On the 25th her condition was serious, and the doctor of Nice had called in other doctors from Marseilles for a consultation. I am sorry to hear it, for I feel deeply attached to the Grand Duchess.

I have good news from Pauline. My son-in-law paid a visit by himself to Madame Adélaïde and was warmly welcomed. He was thrown from his horse and returned home quite lame. [64]

Rochecotte, June 4, 1842.—Our young princes who proposed to travel to England have postponed their departure indefinitely. Under existing circumstances the journey would have been inopportune.

Rochecotte, June 7, 1842.—I have a very sad letter from Pauline. Her husband returned from Randan quite ill, either in consequence of the fall from his horse or owing to an attack of rheumatic fever. Whatever the cause may be, the results are serious. He is feverish and delirious, has attacks of nervous trouble, terrible pain and fainting fits. All this happened in the middle of the mountains and it was necessary to carry him home on a stretcher with his wife riding beside him. Such are the perils of life in the country. There is no doctor in the neighbourhood. I do not like this mode of life which is unsuited to Pauline's delicate health. Love and duty make everything beautiful in her eyes, but when the moment of trial comes, she feels herself very lonely in the midst of a wild country. Her husband was better when she despatched her letter. I am very anxious to hear later news.

Rochecotte, June 11, 1842.—I hear from Paris that Barante will certainly not return to St. Petersburg, because no Ambassador will be sent. The post will be filled by an ordinary Minister; I have not heard who will be chosen. Immediately after the elections there will be a short session of the Chambers for a fortnight during the month of August.

Rochecotte, June 14, 1842.—The newspapers say that M. Dupanloup has delivered a strikingly successful course of lectures on pulpit oratory at the Sarbonne. We shall also see the course suddenly terminated; it has given rise to much talk at Paris. M. Royer-Collard tells me that he thinks the Abbé Dupanloup was wrong to quote Voltaire in his lectures, though we may imagine how the quotation was made. He reminds me that under the Restoration the clergy sent Voltaire through eighteen editions by their attacks. At present he is hardly read, and therefore should not be quoted. The Abbé himself wrote to tell the Dean of the Faculty that to avoid any further outbreaks he would bring his course of lectures to an end. The Dean communicated the letter to the Minister of Education, who took the Abbé at his word without proposing any preventive measures to avoid the scandal which, as usual, was caused by a very small and very noisy minority.

Madame de Lieven tells me of the death of Matusiewicz, but gives no details. The poor Conference of London is rapidly disappearing: M. de Talleyrand, the Prince de Lieven, and now Matusiewicz. The Princess also tells me that poverty in England is extreme. The customs union of Germany has greatly damaged English commerce. Sir Robert Peel is extremely powerful, and seems likely to remain in office; every one else is overshadowed by him. Queen Victoria showed much courage and good sense in her last adventure. Her would-be assassin will not be executed, as the bullet has not been found. [65]

M. Guizot is, as usual, delighted with the session which has just come to an end, and with the prospect of the coming elections. Barante is pleasantly employed at London, and writes very nice letters. He was very kindly received at Windsor: he tells me that he did not find Lady Holland greatly changed, though he has not seen her for fifteen years; her rigid and imperious expression apparently remains unaltered. At the mention of her husband's name her eyes fill with tears, which does not suit her general expression; she shows such general want of amiability that her grief in this respect has become almost a subject of jest in society. Lady Clanricarde is very bitter against Russia. Lord Stuart has returned suffering from apoplexy, and his brain is said to have been slightly affected; it is not likely that he will return to St. Petersburg.

Regarding the general attitude of England to France, Barante writes as follows: "From a political point of view, I think there is a real desire to live upon good terms with us, and the manifestations of our Chambers and our newspapers have aroused regret and uneasiness. Every one knows that these were caused by ill-temper, and not by any desire for war; but if these demonstrations and opinions should continue to increase, it is impossible to foresee the result."

Rochecotte, June 16, 1842.—M. and Madame de La Rochejaquelein, my neighbours from Ussé, [66] came to spend part of the day here yesterday. She has been very pretty and pleasant, and retains both of these qualities. Her husband is a kind of wild huntsman from the Vendée who has been wounded in the handsomest possible fashion; the scar crosses the whole of his face, but does not disfigure it.

Rochecotte, June 17, 1842.—When I came home after returning Madame de La Rochejaquelein's call, I found a letter from Pauline. After reading it I resolved to start at once to help the poor child. As it is a toilsome journey, difficult and almost dangerous through the mountains, and as I shall probably be obliged to travel on horseback for the last day, while the presence of a man may be useful to Pauline, I resolved to accept the offer of the good Vestier, who knows the country, and who is devoted to the Castellanes. They are also fond of him, and he will accompany me. He will sit on the box with Jacques, and his presence will be a great support. I shall go through without stopping; I am leaving all my servants here, and the house will go on as if I were not absent. It is a hard trial. God is great. Let us bow the head and adore, and remember that happiness is not to be found in this world.

Aubijou, June 22, 1842.—I left Rochecotte on the 18th in the morning. As I took no luggage in my carriage, had four horses on level ground, six in the mountains, and was preceded by a courier, I did not stop, and arrived here in forty-eight hours, which is wonderfully rapid travelling. I found my son-in-law terribly changed. The condition of his thigh, which was the primary cause of his illness, has improved, and gives no cause for alarm, but the nervous shock which it has produced causes me great anxiety. He is better, but by no means convalescent yet. I shall not return home until he reaches that stage, and as soon as he can be moved he will go to take the waters at Néris. Pauline is not ill, but she is growing very tired by reason of constant agitation and anxiety; she has shown great devotion. The presence of Vestier, who was a real support to me in these wild districts, greatly pleases my son-in-law. I thank Providence that he was so kind as to think of coming with me, for he is by far the most acceptable visitor to the invalid.

The roads here are frightful; the country for the last three leagues is not picturesque, but bare, dismal, and wild; the climate is disagreeable, and the temporary house in which we are encamped amid disorder is disgusting, especially for an invalid. It is a wooden house, swarming with fleas and mice; neither windows nor doors will shut, so that draughts have full play, and the noise is horrible. We are six leagues from a chemist's shop, and there is nothing to be had; I am horrified that they should think of building in such a country. Everything has to be made, even the level space of ground upon which to build the house. It will not be finished for years, but the Castellanes hope they may be able to live in a quarter of it next year!

Aubijou, June 23, 1842.—My son-in-law is much easier. The weather is abominable, and yesterday it thundered and rained in torrents the whole day; it is a horrible country, and I am not over-estimating its deficiencies, and am quite in despair at the idea of building a house here. It is quite possible to live here for nothing if people will live as the natives do, but any attempt to introduce civilisation is very expensive, and I fear my son-in-law will regret his attempt to take root here, for reasons both of health and money. No one could be more reasonable or gentle than Pauline, or show greater resignation and devotion; her conduct is admirable throughout this illness and the infinite number of troubles and vexations it involves; during all these she has shown both spirit and good sense, and is generally held in the highest esteem. All their servants are quite devoted to them. Here we are half enveloped in the clouds; the inhabitants are very uncivilised; in September they bake a six months' supply of bread; in October they shut themselves up with their cattle and intercommunication ceases; they then remain buried in the snow, which sometimes does not melt even in the month of May. Some parts of Auvergne are very picturesque, but not on this side; the mountains are too round and their summits too flat and bare; there is no fine expanse of water, and the whole outlook is most monotonous. The ruins of the old castle of Aubijou alone give a little character to the countryside; these have been wisely covered with climbing plants. My son-in-law is also planting on a large scale to improve the surroundings of the house and the view from the windows, but it will be a long time before his plantations grow; meanwhile the general aspect is dismal and I think the climate is very trying.

Aubijou, June 24, 1842.—My son-in-law had refused every proposal to move him, but after a very restless night he suddenly declared that he would stay here no longer. We immediately fell in with his desire for flight, ordered horses and packed our things, but we cannot start until to-morrow. Henri will travel lying down, and by very short stages. The doctors declare that to stay here would be the worst possible thing for him, and of this I am firmly convinced. It is a most fatal spot in which to be ill. He will rest for a few days at Clermont and then go to take the waters at Néris which have been prescribed, and are, I think, the best in the world for nervous rheumatism. I shall travel for some distance in company with them to see how he bears the journey, and will then go in advance of them. I shall turn aside at Néris to find them a good lodging, and then proceed to Rochecotte, where I shall be very glad to return, for I am dreadfully tired and I feel that if I were to stay longer here I should fall ill. My poor daughter is worn out; at any rate, both at Clermont and Néris she will be in a civilised country, within reach of help and away from the terrible loneliness in which she lives here.

To please my son-in-law I made a long and curious excursion yesterday in the valley overlooked by his new buildings. I found some fine pieces of water and splendid trees, but there is no means of approach and paths must be cut with an axe.

Longueplaine, near Tours, June 29, 1842. At the house of M. de la Besnardière.—We left Aubijou on the morning of the 25th. It was not an easy journey. My son-in-law was laid upon a mattress in their large travelling carriage, which is fortunately very roomy. Then came the question of leaving the mountains. Apart from the carriage of the Castellanes, which contained them with their doctor, their chambermaid, their child, and two lacqueys on the box, there was my carriage, with myself, a chambermaid, M. Vestier, and Jacques on the box; then came a little tilbury, drawn by Corsican horses, in which were the cook and an Auvergne jockey. On horseback was the estate agent, a keeper, and a negro, whom my son-in-law had brought back from the south and who is called Zéphir, blowing a horn. It was a strange spectacle, and resembled a scene from the Roman comique. The road, however, was by no means cheerful, with its rocks, its precipices, and its dangers, but by going gently and holding in the carriages, we came through without mishap. I will admit, to my shame, that I so far yielded to my fears as to leave my large carriage and take the cook's place in the tilbury, which proceeded with less danger, as it was lighter and narrower. Night came upon us before we had left the region of precipices, and my cowardice was then displayed in the most disgraceful manner and I wept. The Castellanes spent the night at Massiac. I left them there, feeling content with the effect of the open air upon Henri's nerves. I proceeded in advance, and reached Clermont on the morning of the 26th. I saw the doctor who had already been called in to Henri, and gave him an account of the invalid's progress. After announcing that he would arrive the same evening, I went a few leagues further from the town and visited Randan. I was very curious to see it, and I also knew that my visit would be a compliment to Madame Adélaïde. I admit that I was greatly undeceived: only three things justify the reputation of the place—the view, which is admirable, the fine old trees, and the kitchens and out-buildings, which, are, indeed, too handsome and entirely out of proportion to the rest of the establishment, which lacks distinction. A very poor avenue of poplar-trees, crossing a wretched village, leads to a paling of painted wood; through a gate one enters a kind of quincunx, at the end of which another turn leads to the narrow courtyards of the château. The entrance is very poor, though it would have been easy to cut a great avenue through the woods leading straight to the château. The château itself is built partly of brick, with painted roofs, and partly of white stone abutting upon the old part of the building, and forming a dreadful contrast of styles. The rooms are low, the decorations heavy and mean, the furniture without style or harmony, neither simple nor magnificent, and the apotheosis of bad taste. The hall and the ante-chamber are extremely narrow and inconvenient; there are no artistic objects, the sculptures are plaster and the paintings, which chiefly consist of family portraits, are bad copies. In the salon, which is called the family room because the whole of the present generation are there gathered, I was glad to see the portrait of Madame de Genlis. Madame Adélaïde's room is very small and, in my opinion, very ugly. The corridors on the first floor are dark, narrow, and inconvenient. The library is in the principal reception-room, where there is also a billiard-table; I do not think there were more than a thousand volumes. A wide terrace, which covers the kitchens, leads from the castle to the chapel. The terrace, which is well-adorned with flowers, is a fine point of view, but an iron trellis-work, which covers half of it, is so narrow and low that it is quite spoilt. The chapel is large, but in no particular style, and the decorations within are ugly. There are some very poor modern windows, a confessional-box, painted and coloured like a screen, holy water stoups of gilded cardboard, and, I repeat, a general want of dignity, gracefulness, and taste. The dining-room is the best preserved apartment; it is vaulted and painted with frescoes in extremely varied colours, and is too low. Some people praise it highly, but it is not to my taste.

I returned to Clermont at the moment when the Castellanes were arriving at the town and my son-in-law had borne the journey well. The doctor said he would be able to start for Néris at the end of twenty-four hours. I left them on the 27th, satisfied with the positive assurance that the doctor gave me, that there was no danger, though convalescence would be a slow and painful process. I went to Néris to engage rooms for them, a necessary precaution as there were many people in residence, and I had some trouble in finding a suitable house. The doctor at Néris whom I had known for a long time, is an excellent and careful man and I gave him full information concerning the case. I only stayed at Néris for dinner and to select rooms for the Castellanes, and after spending the night in my carriage I arrived here yesterday evening at the house of M. de la Besnardière. It has involved a detour of only two leagues and allowed me to pay a long-standing debt. They were considerably vexed that I had not paid them this visit earlier. The house is pretty, clean, convenient and almost fashionable, and full of little comforts which aroused my astonishment. It was the sight of Rochecotte which induced him to put this house in repair and for this purpose he employed Vestier, whose efforts were very successful. I shall lunch here, call at the Prefecture of Tours and reach my own house in time for dinner. I greatly need rest.

Rochecotte, June 30, 1842.—I stopped for an hour at Tours yesterday to call on the d'Entraigues. Every one was busy with the elections. I found all in good health except Alava, who had returned during my absence and was so changed during these few weeks that I think his end must be near.

Rochecotte, July 3, 1842.—The newspapers announce the death of M. de Sismondi. Notwithstanding his pedantry, he is a man to be regretted, a kind and very learned character.

The young people here are busy studying motets which are to be sung to-day in my chapel on the occasion of a solemn benediction which the priest will pronounce this evening at five o'clock. An association of girls has been started in this parish which has existed for a long time in neighbouring provinces, and will be called an association of the Daughters of the Virgin. It is a secular organisation and no renunciation of marriage is required. The members merely undertake to avoid bad company, to live honourable lives, to repeat the little office of the Virgin, to attend the sacraments regularly and to set a good example. At church and in processions they are dressed in white with blue sashes. I was asked to give them a banner and their blue sashes which I have done. They will be instituted to-day to the number of fifteen. As my chapel is dedicated to the Virgin and as a mark of gratitude for my gifts, they propose to go there in procession with their banner unfolded. For this occasion the Grand Vicars have allowed the performance of a choral benediction. This is a great event in the parish. Fortunately the weather is very fine. Pauline would have been very glad to be present and I regret her absence deeply.

Rochecotte, July 4, 1842.—Yesterday's ceremony was most edifying, bright and picturesque. Fanny, Alexandre and their music master sang extremely well. The girls were in white and blue and the chapel was decorated with flowers. There were at least five hundred people on the terrace to receive the blessing which was given from the altar which faces the chapel door opening on the terrace.

Rochecotte, July 7, 1842.—I have a letter from the Princesse de Lieven. She tells me that the Bishop of Orléans [67] has been appointed Archbishop of Tours and she adds from M. Guizot that I shall find this prelate very satisfactory. A letter from Pauline tells me that her husband is rapidly recovering.

Rochecotte, July 10, 1842.—M. de la Besnardière came yesterday to spend a few hours here in the interval between the formation of committees and a vote of the electoral college of Tours. This department, which is generally so peaceful, has never been in such a ferment.

Rochecotte, July 11, 1842.—The great news of the district is that M. Crémieux, a Jewish lawyer, has been elected by a majority of thirty-five votes. M. Crémieux is a stranger to the district with which he has no connection. The result is really inexplicable unless it is due to his oratorical powers, for like a true lawyer he has talked so many hours on end that he filled the country people with admiration. If a similar result occurs at Loches, our department will be represented entirely by the Left. The Ministry, which will not admit its total neglect of the Prefect's requirements, will then blame M. d'Entraigues and perhaps we shall lose him, which would grieve me greatly. Moreover, these elections were thought likely to strengthen the Conservative reaction and if this expectation is falsified, the outlook will be extremely gloomy.

Rochecotte, July 12, 1842.—I have had a call from Dr. Orye and from M. de Quinemont. Both gave me a description of the disgraceful electoral scenes at Chinon, where M. Crémieux was carried shoulder high by the scum of the populace, who were unfortunately joined by Legitimists from the left bank of the Loire, in which district they are very numerous. The country electors were also largely influenced by the fact that they heard M. Crémieux speak for three hours on end without blowing his nose, spitting, or coughing, which they thought magnificent. I am very anxious to learn the general result of this reaction, which may have grave and serious consequences.

Rochecotte, July 14, 1842.—Alava came back here yesterday, and is full of election stories from Tours. Many disgraceful incidents took place. According to the newspapers, however, it seems that upon the general result of the elections the Ministry will have gained a few votes, and it is much that they have lost none. I must confess that I am very anxious to learn the final figures.

Rochecotte, July 15, 1842.—M. de Chalais had just arrived yesterday when I was expecting the Prefect, but instead of him a courier rode up whom he had sent to bring me the terrible news which has overwhelmed me, the news that the Duc d'Orléans was dead, in consequence of a fall from his carriage. I know no details except that he died at Neuilly on July 13, the day before yesterday, at half-past four in the afternoon. The accident took place the same day at midday at Sablonville. My thoughts are entirely occupied with this sad event, both as a matter of personal loss and as a public disaster. How will a long Regency be possible in a country so disturbed as France now is? Personally, I have to regret the friendship of which the young Prince had given me such honourable and flattering proofs. It is also a loss for my son Valençay. I really do not know whether the Prince's wife and mother will survive this terrible blow.