Kitabı oku: «Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1831-1835», sayfa 10

There is no doubt that Don Carlos is gone. Some say he embarked on the Thames when he was supposed to be at the Opera, and that he will land in Spain at one of the points where he is supposed to have a following. Others, and among them M. de Miraflorès, say that he has gone viâ France; that M. Calomarde managed the whole thing from Paris, instigated by him (Miraflorès) in order to entrap Don Carlos. Anyhow, he is gone, and whatever be the result of his enterprise it cannot be without effect.

London, July 16, 1834.– Lord Melbourne's successor at the Home Office is known; it is Lord Duncannon, who has been transferred from the Woods and Forests, which he leaves to Sir John Cam-Hobhouse. The latter is celebrated for his friendship with Lord Byron, his Eastern travels, and his very liberal opinions, in which, however, he is less extreme than Lord Duncannon, who is said to be quite violent. This shows that the Cabinet has taken on a more decidedly revolutionary character.

Yesterday it was certain that Don Carlos had left London; to-day his arrival in Spain is equally beyond doubt. The Tories say he has got to Navarre after having crossed all France; and this, too, is the version of M. de Miraflorès, who now perhaps regrets having boasted of having deceived the Prince and surrounded him with spies who were to deliver him up to the first Spanish outpost, while as a matter of fact he has arrived safe and sound among his own people, by whom, it is said, he has been enthusiastically received.

The English Ministry yesterday admitted knowing of Don Carlos's arrival in Spain, which is believed to have taken place on the 9th, but they say that he landed at a port in Biscaya attended only by a single Frenchman, and that his partisans eagerly welcomed him. It is asserted that he only went to Spain because the Northern provinces invited him, and threatened that they would declare their independence and constitute themselves a Republic if their natural leader did not come to them. It is clear that there must have been great hopes on the one hand and much to lose on the other before a man so timid and so incapable as Don Carlos could have been persuaded to run such a risk. Moreover, his conversation with the Duke of Wellington, which I set down above, shows that his mind has for several weeks been occupied with this plan of going to Spain.

London, July 17, 1834.– The friends of the new Ministry are wearing themselves out with assertions that the policy of the French alliance will not be altered in any way. I believe this is true; but, in the interests of both countries, I should have preferred that the alliance had been founded on social order and had not depended for its continuance on revolutionary sympathies, which give just cause for anxiety to the rest of Europe, and may bring about conflicts in which it would be difficult to predict who will be the victor.

We are more and more decided to return to France immediately after Parliament rises, and perhaps even sooner.

Our more distant future is not yet to be foreseen, but Lord Grey's example is another proof that the great figures of history should themselves choose the circumstances of their retirement, and should not wait till it is imposed upon them by the mistakes or the perfidy of others.

Yesterday we received the two first volumes of a book, entitled M. de Talleyrand. I have hardly looked at it, but M. de Talleyrand has read it. He says that nothing could be more stupid, false, tedious, and ill-imagined, and that he would not pay five shillings to have it suppressed. I admit that I am less philosophic, and that on occasions of this sort – which in a libellous age like ours are so numerous – I always remember a saying of La Bruyère's, which seems to me remarkably true. "Excessive calumny," he says, "like excessive praise, always leaves a trace behind." As a matter of fact, the world is divided into the foolish and the malevolent, and so there are always people who will believe what is improbable, especially about an opponent.

London, July 18, 1834.– Fatuity in men is a thing which spreads from one point to all the rest. M. de Miraflorès, who is very pushing with women and rather ridiculous, is not less presumptuous in politics. He launches out madly and credits himself with successes which are only due to the personal passions of the people, and which will perhaps hardly be justified by the final result. Thus he proclaims himself the inventor of the Quadruple Alliance, the first idea of which was suggested to him by Lord Palmerston. Now that Don Carlos's reappearance on Spanish territory renews the old difficulties, the little Marquis, proprio motu, without waiting for orders from his Government, sends a perfect olla podrida of a note – a masterpiece of absurdity – appealing to France and England to extend the scope of the treaty whose object was believed to be accomplished.

The present circumstances are, however, very different. Three months ago the two Pretenders, Miguel and Carlos, were both penned up in a little corner of Portugal, and were thus more particularly the business of England. Now Don Carlos is in the north of Spain, near the French frontier. Will England carry her revolutionary tendencies so far as to allow a French army to enter the Peninsula? Would not that be the signal for Lord Palmerston's resignation? On the other hand, can France, after declaring against Don Carlos, allow him again to seize a power which he would use against her? It is not that the Government of the Queen-Regent, which becomes more and more decrepit, is likely to be a very good neighbour. King Louis Philippe finds himself in the dilemma of being faced on the other side of the Pyrenees either with the Republican or the Legitimist principle. The mezzo termine can only be maintained by armed force – in fact, by conquest!

This reminds me of a very true remark made by M. de Talleyrand which has often come back to my mind during the last four years. It was said in the midst of the intoxication of the great days of 1830. M. de Talleyrand found one of his friends full of hopes and illusions, patriotic phrases and emotion, over the scene at the Hôtel de Ville, the Lafayette accolades, and the popularity of Louis Philippe. "Monsieur," said he, "what is wanting in all this is a trifle of conquest."

They say that in Spain Martinez de la Rosa is passé, and can no longer maintain himself in power; he will be replaced by Toreno, and will become President of the House of Peers. It is also said that the Queen-Regent will create him Marquis de l'Alliance.

London, July 19, 1834.– Everything that is happening here reminds one of the first scenes of the French Revolution. The analogy is striking, the copy a trifle too servile. The aristocracy, the minority of the nobility, the tiers état, have each their counterparts in the Tories, the Whigs, and the Radicals. The Whigs are blinded by jealousy and personal ambition, and will not see that they have any other enemies than the Tories; they see no danger except on that side, and in order to keep their rivals out of office they are precipitating themselves and all their class into the abyss which has been dug for them by the Radicals.

In talking over all this yesterday M. de Talleyrand quoted a remark made to him by the Abbé Sieyès during the sittings of the Constituent assembly. "Yes, we get on very well now that we are discussing only Liberty; it is when we get on to Equality that we shall quarrel."

At the very lively sitting of the Lords of the day before yesterday Ministers very clearly marked out the line they mean to follow, and the very men who in Lord Grey's time, less than a fortnight ago, held the repressive clauses of the Coercion Bill to be indispensable, announced their abandonment amid the jeers and scoffs of the House. This was as much as to say that the Cabinet in order to survive was putting itself at the disposal of the Radical majority in the House of Commons, was flouting the opposition of the Lords and doing its best to make it of no account. As one might expect, the irritation which results from this is sharply expressed in the Upper House. All the consolation Ministers have is the approbation which O'Connell is good enough to bestow upon them.

London, July 20, 1834.– I much prefer Lord Grey's second speech delivered the day before yesterday in the House of Lords to make clear his position which had been misrepresented by both parties, to the first speech in which he announced his resignation. The latter I thought was too long and too tearful, and entered too minutely into his family affairs. The speech of the day before yesterday was more laconic, and more closely argued; its dignity was remarkable and, while avoiding any bitterness or personality, the speaker exposed the chicanery which had forced him to retire. He remains well disposed to the guiltiest parties and full of kindness to his successors as individuals, but he will have nothing to do with their policy. His retirement in accordance with his own instincts is greeted with the applause of all sensible people, the humiliation of those whom he has quitted, and the lively displeasure of all those who are the real enemies of social order.

A fortnight ago I confess Lord Grey seemed to me nothing more than an old man worn out, shaken to pieces, and on the point of being discredited. Since his resignation his last political acts have been illumined with a brilliant gleam. His fine talent for oratory which he exercised so long in opposition has recovered all its energy now that he is out of office again, and it may be truly said that Lord Grey who has had one fall after another has again reached the foremost place now that he has got free of the shameful ambuscades by which he has been overpowered. The Cabinet is now much afraid of him and would fall low indeed if Lord Grey was not compassionate enough to throw over it the mantle of his protection. His colleagues, who lately spoke of him with more pity than respect, tremble at his words to-day. Ah! how wise it is not to survive one's self in politics, and how necessary it is to choose time fitting for retreat.

A resignation which is both less important and less honourable is that of Marshal Soult.²⁶ The reasons for his disappearance which is accepted by the King and little regretted by the Cabinet, are said to be internal quarrels about the question whether Algeria shall have a military or a civil governor – about a speech from the Throne, more or less detailed, which is to be delivered on July 31 next, but above all the terror of the Army estimates which the Marshal is said to be afraid to face next session. They say that they will offer his place to Marshal Gérard.

Most fortunately for the Queen Regent of Spain some accident seems to have happened which will enable her to appear at the opening of the Cortès. She has much need of a piece of good luck to re-establish her position which she has so curiously compromised by her frivolity and inconsequence.

Lord Howick, eldest son of Lord Grey, who has no great reputation for either physical or intellectual merit, has just resigned his position as Under Secretary of State at the Home Office, thus following his father's example and fortunes. This is the only instance of fidelity which his father is likely to encounter.

Yesterday I saw Lady Cowper at her own house; she seemed to me depressed and preoccupied. With her intelligence it is difficult for her not to be afflicted by conduct in her relatives and friends which is so wanting in credit. She pointed out to me not without reason the change which has come over London life and society, the care people take to avoid each other, the hostile way in which they speak of each other, the unrest of every one, their distrust of the present, their gloomy forebodings for the future, the general disorganisation, the dispersion of the diplomatic corps, and the absence of all government and all authority. This was striking language from the sister of the Premier and the intimate friend of the Foreign Secretary.

She tried hard to persuade me that the offence given by the latter to the corps diplomatique, and in particular to M. de Talleyrand, should not be attributed to any evil intention but simply to a certain neglect of forms which may well be excused in a man overwhelmed with work. She seemed to be especially embarrassed by the thought that M. de Talleyrand might take Lord Palmerston's conduct to him as a reason for retiring. She used all her wit in fact, all her charm and good taste, and she has all these qualities in a high degree, to justify her friends and to mitigate the bitterness which they have provoked. I left her much pleased with her way of putting things but not at all converted on essential points.

London, July 21, 1834.– The great need in which the Ministry find themselves of some speaker in the House of Lords less discredited than the Chancellor and cleverer than the other Ministers who are peers, has led them to make a most extraordinary proposition, characteristic of the absolute want of sense and refinement which distinguishes Holland House. They seriously suggested that Lord Grey should remain, not as Prime Minister, but as Lord Privy Seal! He had the good taste to laugh at this proposal, taking it as a thing too grotesque to take offence at. But how could they have had the impudence to make such a request?

However, everything is so strange just now that one need be surprised at nothing. Here for example is the full story of how Lord Melbourne discharged the task committed to him by the King of doing his best to form a Coalition Ministry. No doubt the thing was impossible; still, Lord Melbourne chose a curious way of bringing it about. He wrote on behalf of the King to the Duke of Wellington and to Sir Robert Peel telling them of the commission with which he had been entrusted, and adding that in order to save them trouble he would send them a copy of the letter which he had just written to His Majesty showing how he himself regarded the question. This letter contained nothing but a strong argument against any attempt at agreement with the other side and an enumeration of all the difficulties which made coalition impossible. The Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel replied by acknowledging his letter and thanking him respectfully for the communication made to them on behalf of the King. The King was surprised that these gentlemen did not reply in greater detail and sent to ask for their observations. They answered: "They are all contained in Lord Melbourne's letter to His Majesty, we have nothing to add." Thus the curious negotiation terminated.

London, July 22, 1834.– The phase of calm and prosperity through which the French Government seemed again to be passing seems to be rather disturbed by the dissensions of the Ministers among themselves which have been caused by the resignation of Marshal Soult. It appears that people are anxious and divided in opinion on the length and the greater or less importance of the short session announced for July 31. It comes at an inconvenient time for discussing events in the Peninsula, and the flood of oratory will probably embarrass the Government. Were Don Carlos to prevail we should have a personal enemy on our frontiers; if the Queen-Regent triumphs, which she can only do by throwing herself more and more into the "movement," we shall have a revolutionary and anarchist neighbour. This could not be indifferent to our Government, which already has only too much of the same sort of thing to contend with. It seems, moreover, that the two armies were too near each other not to come to blows, and the first decisive success of either side will probably settle the subsequent course of the conflict. Thus the issue is awaited with great and anxious curiosity.

Now that the quarrel is no longer being fought out in Portugal, but in Spain, the English are drawing out of it, and will give only slight support to their dear Miraflorès. The burden of the business is reserved for France, and it bristles with difficulties.

In the City yesterday news was spread of the death of the Queen-Regent. Some said she had been poisoned; some that she had died of the results of the accident which had led to her retirement. The news is probably false, but in a country like Spain, in time of civil war, religious fanaticism, family jealousy and quarrels run riot; evil passions of all sorts are let loose, and no crime is more improbable than the daily spectacle of folly and disorder.

Mr. Stanley, who replaces Lord Howick as Under-Secretary of State at the Home Office, is quite different from the Mr. Stanley who was lately in office. He is a kind of would-be dandy, and a complete Radical of the worst and lowest sort. He was for a time private secretary to Lord Durham.

The latter has contemptuously refused the embassy at Paris, which, as he well knew, was only offered to him because he is not wanted here. He replied that he would accept no place from a Cabinet which would not receive him as one of themselves. Lord Carlisle has resigned the Privy Seal.

London, July 24, 1834.– It was generally said yesterday that the Infanta Maria Princess of Portugal and wife of Don Carlos, has also secretly left England to follow her husband to Spain, leaving her children here with her sister the Duchess of Beira. Princess Maria is said to be possessed of much courage and decision of character. Probably she thinks that she has more than her husband, and that her presence will inspire the Pretender with all the energy which he needs in his difficult situation. All these Portuguese Princesses are demons either in politics or in love, and sometimes in both. One of them, married to a Marquis de Loulé, had an adventure with a British naval officer, which caused much scandal at Lisbon. M. de Loulé was furious and sent away his wife, keeping the children. Dom Pedro required his brother-in-law to take her back, but I did not hear how the matter ended.

Princess Isabella also caused some talk while she was Regent, and Dom Miguel, it is said, tried to give her poison in a vegetable soup. She is now at Lisbon, reunited to the rest of her family, or, rather, her relatives, for love and hate are alike so perverse in the House of Braganza that they can hardly be said to respect in any way the natural family ties.

A propos of Pretenders and curious manners, Lord Burghersh yesterday told me a great deal about the Countess of Albany, whom he knew at Florence. There she had as cavaliere servente M. Fabre, the painter, who had lived with her since the death of Alfieri. They used to walk out alone, with only M. Fabre's big dog to keep them company. They also dined alone. From eight to eleven the Countess received all Florence. While this was going on M. Fabre retired to a mistress of an inferior order. At eleven he reappeared at the Countess's, and his arrival was the signal for the whole company to disperse in order that they might sup tête-à-tête. The one was never asked out without the other; this is the etiquette in Italy, and is carried to a naïve extreme. Here is an example: Lord Burghersh, who was British Minister at Florence, opened his house with a great ball, to which he thought that he had invited every one of importance. However, not being as yet very well up in the manners and customs of society, he forgot to invite a gentleman who was attached to a certain fair lady. On the morning of the ball my lord's steward came to him with an open letter which he had just received, and which he asked his master to read. Lord Burghersh read as follows: "Sapete, caro Matteo, che sono servita da il Cavaliere so-and-so; he is not invited to Lord Burghersh's, which, as you will understand, makes it impossible for me to go to his ball; please correct this mistake." The mistake was, in fact, corrected, and Lord Burghersh never forgot the lesson. "Sapete" to a servant, and "sono servita" are expressions of a naïveté which is almost beyond belief, yet quite according to Italian manners. But, to return to the Countess of Albany and M. Fabre, her ladyship having died, M. Fabre painted a portrait of the dog, the companion of their walks, had it engraved, and sent a proof to each of the Countess's friends with the following inscription: "To the friends of the Countess of Albany from M. Fabre's dog."

London, July 25, 1834. – The Ministry grows very bitter against Lord Grey, being incensed at his dignified retirement and his just disdain of the preposterous proposal of the Privy Seal. He is called weak, incapable and capricious, and insult is added to perfidy. The thin veil with which this treacherous conduct is covered does not conceal it sufficiently to prevent Lord Grey himself from beginning to be embittered by it. I know that he has said that if his successors went another step in the direction of revolution he would not only cease to vote for them but openly declare against them. Decidedly he has returned to his better instincts, and I believe he will have the courage to purge himself, so far as that is possible, of the imputation of having led England along a road to ruin.

Lord John Russell the mildest, the wittiest, and the most honourable of Jacobins, the most simple minded and the most candid of revolutionaries, the most agreeable, but also by the very reason of his virtue, the most dangerous of Ministers, was telling me yesterday that some months ago he had a violent argument with Lord Grey about a measure on which they did not agree. On this occasion, Lord Grey declared to him that he would never consent to put his name to a revolutionary measure. "After Reform," added Lord John in his mild little way, "this showed great weakness and want of logic." "You would be right," I replied, "if Lord Grey, when he allowed you to pass the Reform Bill, had foreseen all the consequences; but you will agree with me that he did not foresee them, and that you took good care not to point them out to him in time." Lord John laughed and said very charmingly, "You don't expect me to confess, do you?" If all the revolutionaries were of the type of Cobbett and O'Connell, or of the ill-bred and cynical nature of Lord Brougham, it would be easier to be on one's guard. But in the witty, fragile figure of the Duke of Bedford's son how could one suspect that there lurks so much perversity of judgment, how could one imagine that a body to all appearance so frail and exhausted could be capable of such persistence in thought and such violence in action?

London, July 29, 1834.– An expedition to Woburn Abbey has interrupted this journal. This, the third visit which I have paid to this splendid place, was much pleasanter to me personally than the two others, but it has furnished me with nothing to add to my previous descriptions of it. Nothing happened there at all out of the ordinary course of English country-house life. The hospitality dispensed is on a great and generous scale with a little more pomp and ceremony than one wants in country life, at least according to Continental ideas.

A party at Woburn in particular is as carefully arranged as a London dinner-party. Twenty or thirty persons who know each other, but not familiarly, are invited to be together for two or three days. The hosts go to their house for the special purpose of receiving their guests, and return to town after their departure. They have thus themselves the air of being on a visit. However, when all is said and done, there is so much to see and admire; the Duke of Bedford is so charming, such a perfect embodiment of the grand seigneur; the Duchess is so attentive, that it is impossible not to carry away with one the most pleasing impressions. My own impression was particularly so, and this in spite of the rather melancholy cloud on the countenances of some of the leading figures. Lord Grey, for instance, has collapsed in a rather startling way; he seems ill and worn out, and takes no trouble to conceal his attitude, which is becoming more and more bitter. The most voluntary of abdications are always followed by regrets; one may die of overwork; one flickers out when one is shelved. It is so difficult to be satisfied both with one's self and with others.

Madame de Lieven, also, despite all her efforts, was fainting under the burden of saying good-bye, of going away and staying away. She is really very unhappy, and I am very sorry for her. This is the more the case as no person of ability has ever found less resources within herself than she. She always relies for help on her surroundings. She must have the stir of news and conversation, and when she is alone there is nothing left for her to do but to go to sleep. She weeps to have to quit England; she fears St. Petersburg, but what she feels most is the journey – a week of solitude! Her husband and children don't count! She will stay a day at Hamburg solely for the purpose of exchanging a few words with new people. She seized with avidity the idea of arranging that the Baron and Baroness de Talleyrand should visit her, though she has never seen them and does not know whether they will amuse her. She was obviously consoled when she managed to persuade Lord Alvanley to go on his way to Carlsbad by Hamburg in the same packet as herself, and this though Lord Alvanley warned her that sea-sickness made him very bad company. For her, indeed, ennui is like a conscience; her one idea is to fly from herself.

When we got back to London we heard of the Madrid massacres – always the same horrible fable of the poisoned wells, which infuriates popular ignorance wherever there is an epidemic of cholera, and produces mad atrocities. The monks have been the victims on this occasion, and the convents have been pillaged in spite of religious fanaticism. The hand of authority was weak and impotent: the Government had retired to St. Ildephonse, terrified and irresolute, not knowing whether in these melancholy circumstances of plague, riot and civil war, the Cortès should be summoned or prorogued, or, if they should be summoned, to what place or under whose auspices! It is impossible to imagine a concourse of circumstances more melancholy in themselves, more fatal for Spain, or more unpleasing neighbours for France.

Louis-Philippe is very unwilling to interfere openly and directly in the destinies of Spain. He has even showed this unwillingness so clearly, that the Ambassadors at Paris have divined his secret and are taking great advantage of it. The attitude of the Ministry, which has to reckon more directly with the national vanity and susceptibility, is much less decided. This is the situation in which the Chambers will meet the day after to-morrow.

One of the chief ostensible motives for Marshal Soult's retirement was his insistence on the appointment of a soldier to govern Algiers in opposition to the rest of the Cabinet which demanded that the Governor should be a civilian. It appears that Marshal Gérard took the same line as his predecessor, and that his friendship with the King has enabled him to carry his point; anyhow, General Drouet d'Erlou has just been appointed to the post.

London, July 31, 1834.– Last year, when M. de Talleyrand left for the Continent, the King of England said to him, "When are you coming back?" The year before he had said, "I have told my Ambassador at Paris to say to your Government that I particularly wish to have you here." This year he says, "When are you going?" I think one can find in these varying expressions a trace of Palmerstonian influence.

Yesterday at the King's levée Lord Mulgrave received the Privy Seal which Lord Carlisle has resigned.

In our drawing-room the conversation turned on the talent of certain people for telling ghost stories. This reminded me of the interest with which two years ago at Kew²⁷ I heard from the Duchess of Cumberland the story of an apparition seen by herself, the remembrance of which seemed to cause her much emotion. The impression she produced on us was the deeper as the hour was late and a terrifying thunderstorm was raging outside the house.

The story is as follows. The Duchess of Cumberland, then Princess Louise of Prussia, had gone to visit her mother's relatives at Darmstadt. She was lodged in a state apartment in a part of the castle which was rarely used, the furniture of which, though magnificent, had not been changed for three generations. Wearied with her journey she quickly fell asleep but all the same soon felt on her face a breath which awakened her. She opened her eyes and saw the face of an old lady who was leaning over her own face. Terrified by the sight she immediately drew the bed-clothes over her eyes and remained motionless for several moments. Want of air, however, made her change her position and impelled by curiosity she again opened her eyes and saw the same venerable face, pale and gentle, still staring at her. She then screamed loudly and the nurse of Prince Frederick of Prussia who slept with the child in the neighbouring room, the door of communication being open, rushed in and, finding her mistress bathed in a cold sweat, remained with her for the rest of the night. Next day the Princess related what had happened, and urgently requested that her room might be changed, which was done. No one was surprised for it was said in the family that whenever any descendant of the old Duchess of Darmstadt, who had occupied this apartment, slept there, this venerable ancestress would come and pay her posterity a visit. The Duke of Weimar and several other princes were cited as examples proving the truth of this story. Many years later the Duchess of Cumberland, then Princess Solms, and established at Frankfort, was invited by her cousin, the Grand Duke of Hesse Darmstadt, to a great festivity which he was preparing. The Princess went, intending to return to Frankfort the same night. Supper over she went to a room where her travelling dress had been laid out and was followed by the young Grand Duchess then recently married. The latter asked the Princess Solms whether the story of the ghost was true and asked that it might be told her in detail. She wished to discover whether the impression left had been strong enough to make the Princess remember the features of their venerable ancestress. The Princess was sure that it was so. "Very well," said the Grand Duchess "her portrait is in this very room with two others of the same period. Take the light and tell me which you think represents the spectre, I shall see if you are right." The Princess with some repugnance approached the portraits and had just recognised that of the old grandmother when the picture and its frame crashed to the ground with a terrible noise and, had the ladies not immediately fled, they would have been crushed by its weight.