Memoirs of the Duchesse De Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1841-1850

Paris, April 30, 1843.– The charity bazaar for the benefit of the victims in the earthquake at Guadeloupe produced more than a hundred thousand francs net. Those of us who acted as saleswomen had a laborious but not uninteresting task; each of the lady patronesses had some small adventure to relate. The following was mine: A man of some age came and asked me the price of a little porcelain goblet. I replied, "Twenty francs." "Is it French porcelain?" "No, sir, it is Saxony porcelain from the Dresden factory." "From Dresden!" replied the gentleman, "I have unpleasant memories of Dresden, for I am an artillery officer, and during the wars of the Empire I blew up the bridge at Dresden, acting under orders from my superiors." "Well, sir, then you do not know that you are speaking to a German lady?" "You will be generous, madame, and pardon wrongs committed in time of war." "Yes, sir, if you are generous to our poor people." "Give your orders, madame; I will buy anything you like, or at any rate anything I can, for I am not rich." With these words he emptied his purse upon the counter. It contained thirty francs. I was preparing to add a cigar-holder to the goblet when he asked me to give him something of my own make. I substituted some worked slippers for the cigar-holder. The officer took them and said to me very gracefully, "Madame, has peace been made?" "Certainly, sir, signed and ratified."

A provincial lady who came to our stall during the last three days of the sale told us upon the last day that she had been so touched and overcome by our zeal and by our polite and obliging energy that she asked us to accept a little souvenir. She then offered the Comtesse Mollien and myself, who were at the same stall, a pair of lace mittens. We thanked her in the name of the poor, as we thought she intended the lace work for our stall, but she clearly explained that it was for ourselves. She would not tell us her name, and with great difficulty we induced her to accept from us in memory of our stall a cup which we presented to her.

Paris, May 5, 1843.– Yesterday I called upon Queen Christina. She has intelligent eyes, beautiful skin, a cheerful smile, is pleasantly dimpled and is a ready talker with a slight accent that animates her every observation. She will discuss any subject without embarrassment. A free and easy life is her preference, and I think she is greatly relieved to be far from the throne and political business. The freedom and to some extent the obscurity of her life at Paris suit her to perfection. She has not a single lady-in-waiting, and the number of chamberlains about her are somewhat surprising. Only upon great and unavoidable occasions is Madame de Toreno requested to accompany the Queen. Muñoz is here: he lives quietly in the Queen's house, and is regarded as her husband. Their five children are being brought up at Grenoble. It is confidently stated that he is a sensible man and that his influence over the Queen's mind is supreme. Though not so enormously fat as the Infanta Carlotta, the Queen is much too stout, and her deficiency in this respect is the more obvious as she will not wear stays; besides, she is short of stature. She spoke to me of her Spanish daughters, and said that Queen Isabella had a very dignified bearing, that she was a clever and decided character, entirely made for the difficult part which she is called on to play; that her health had been restored and that she was even strong and robust. She added that unfortunately those about her made no attempt to induce her to study, lest they should lose her favour, and she remained very ignorant. The Queen also told me that the news of her daughters that came to her was reliable, because she had other than official sources of information. She spoke a great deal of the late Duc d'Orléans with extreme regret, saying that his death was a loss not only to France, but even to Spain. "Not that the King," she added, "has been ill-disposed to Spain, but there was in the Prince Royal a youthful ardour and an enterprising spirit which would have been very useful to my daughter."

On the day when the Rouen railway was opened, while the Duc de Nemours was in the tent upon the platform, a lady and gentleman who were also travelling, attempted to come in. The official allowed the lady to pass while the gentleman stopped to talk with some one. When he wished to follow the lady, the official said to him, "You cannot pass here." "But I am a deputy." "No matter." "But you have allowed my wife to go through." "Very likely!" "But there she is, talking to the Prince." "All the more reason why you cannot go through." This answer, which was heard by several people, caused general delight.

The Duc de Nemours is taking every trouble to fulfil the responsibilities of his new position without omission,87 but this work is obviously an effort to him and he does not show the easy grace which distinguished his elder brother. He goes fairly regularly to the Chamber of Peers and even expresses very correct and reasonable opinions to his neighbours upon the questions before the House, but he speaks coldly and in an embarrassed style and as briefly as possible. Then he may be seen leaving the Chamber on foot and alone with a cigar in his mouth, and thus returning to the Tuileries.

Paris, May 10, 1843.– The Comte de Paris, though hardly five years old, has been definitely handed over to male guardianship. His tutor will sleep in his room. His nurse, however, will still look after him. The arrangement seems to be due to the King's wishes. The Duchesse d'Orléans is vexed by it. Since her widowhood she had not returned to her own bedroom and had slept in the nurse's bed in the room of the Comte de Paris.

Paris, May 12, 1843.– I had a long interview yesterday with the King. He spoke of Prussia, whither I am to make a journey, and expressed his dissatisfaction at the fact that the King of Prussia went to England last year and afterwards came to Neuchâtel,88 but went along the whole frontier of France from Ostend to Bâle without touching French territory. However King Louis-Philippe had asked the King of Prussia to come by way of Compiègne where they would have met. The King of Prussia declined the invitation, replying that his shortest journey was through Belgium and that his time was fully engaged. It seems that His Prussian Majesty was anxious to avoid a meeting, even with the King of the Belgians, but as the latter had gone to Ostend for that purpose, he was obliged to give way. The greatest ill-feeling was caused by the remark of the King of Prussia, in reply to some one who expressed his astonishment at His Majesty's refusal to travel through France: "What can you expect; we have promised not to offer any isolated act of politeness to King Louis-Philippe." The French King, deeply wounded, has since ordered his diplomatic officials to refuse passports to foreign princes who might wish to come to Paris incognito, in order to save himself the necessity of meeting them, as the Princes of Würtemberg have done and as the Grand Duke Michael of Russia was inclined to do. Orders have been given upon the frontiers to exercise the strictest supervision in this respect.

Madame Adélaïde seems to be quite in despair at the marriage of Princesse Clémentine which will not provide her with a brilliant position, while the Prince is a nonentity. Madame told me it was very embarrassing and "even worse than the Duke Alexander of Würtemberg." Madame and the King explained their consent to this marriage on the ground that it was impossible to refuse to a daughter aged twenty-six a marriage which was not absolutely unsuitable, when no other prospects were in view. Madame and the King are astonished at the delight which the Princess shows at the prospect of going to Coburg, after her first travels, for there she will find very few social resources, while her position as a Princess of Orléans and a Catholic may prove a source of trouble and embarrassment amid all the little Courts of Germany; but this young and amiable Princess is delighted by the prospect of change and novelty.

Paris, May 15, 1843.– Yesterday I had the honour to receive commissions from the Duchesse d'Orléans to be performed by me in Prussia. She is especially intimate with her cousin, the Princess of Prussia, whose distinction of mind and lofty character please all her intimate friends and deepen their attachment to her. The Duchesse d'Orléans seemed to me more despondent yesterday than she was the first time that I saw her after her widowhood had begun. She seems to feel more and more profoundly her cruel desolation. Many circumstances have also contributed to embitter her temper for some time. She expresses herself in gentle and measured terms, but with less restraint. The departure of the Dowager Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg has left her very lonely, and I found her at one of those moments when the mind cannot suffice for itself, when the power of resistance is yielding, and when confidence became an imperative need. Relying upon my sympathy and my loyalty to the memory which she adores, the Princess threw off restraint and opened her heart in a manner which touched me profoundly. She spoke with bitterness, for which she was the first to reproach herself, of her feelings when the Duc de Nemours was obliged to perform in public those duties which the late Prince performed so admirably; the opening of a railway, a race meeting, or a public function of the kind, are so many wounds to her. She spoke naturally, with perfect choice of language. Her conversation was also deeply marked with religious feeling. She referred briefly to the marriage of Princesse Clémentine, and her impressions seemed to coincide with those of Madame Adélaïde. In short, I stayed two hours with the Duchesse d'Orléans, who seemed to find some relief in talking, an unusual pleasure for her, as her life is confined within somewhat narrow limits. She talks remarkably well, and shows a shrewdness of observation and a constant desire to please. Perhaps all this is too good to be true, and so I was somewhat relieved to see her lose her self-command for the first time. In order to admire her as she deserves, I was waiting for her emotion to become predominant, and I was not disappointed.

Paris, May 18, 1843.– Yesterday I met Father de Ravignan at the house of the Abbé Dupanloup. I was delighted by his noble face and the gentle gravity of his talk. The domination which he exerts in the pulpit disappears in conversation; he is grave and gentle, speaks slowly and in a low tone; the depth of his melancholy gaze is in consonance with a smile that is benevolent, but in no sense lively. He speaks of God with love, of man with forbearance, of the interests of the clergy with moderation, of the triumph of religion with ardour, of himself with modesty, and of the situation in general with wisdom; in short, he inspires confidence and esteem. He hardly ever leaves Paris, and his chief task is now to keep together by constant efforts the young people whom he has attracted and gathered by his brilliant lectures; he hears confessions practically only from men, but they come to him in crowds, and last Easter Day the number of young men who were present at the Sacrament was prodigious. Twelve pupils from the Polytechnic School in uniform were observed. Two years ago a rosary was found in one of the corridors of the school: the pupils seized it, fastened it to the end of a pole, which they set up in the courtyard, and amid much laughter and mockery shouted, "Let us see if the loser of this rosary will dare to claim it." One of the pupils then advanced and said firmly, "The rosary is mine and I wish to have it back." He spoke with such simplicity and courage that no one replied to him by a light word. From that day several followed his example, and now there are a dozen openly professing Catholics in the school.

I am assured that the King has spoken with some vehemence against the Protestants and that he expressed his fear of them. The Duchesse d'Orléans, moved by prudence, diplomacy or conviction, has repeatedly said to the King since her widowhood began; "You may be certain, Sire, that I shall never become the female pope of the Protestants."

M. Guizot, who came this morning to say farewell to me, told me that the King would no longer be satisfied by the return of the Russian Ambassador to Paris; that he had resolved not to resume the equivocal relations with the Emperor Nicholas which had subsisted since 1830 and that an interchange of ambassadors would only take place if the Emperor wrote and addressed him as "brother." M. Guizot takes to himself the honour for the new step adopted by the King with reference to the European courts. He spoke to me at great length of the Duchesse d'Orléans and the tenor of his remarks which I believe to be correct, was as follows: he thinks her very clever, self-restrained, dignified, graceful and a good manager; but she has a restless imagination, feels the need for action and the desire to produce an effect, while her judgment is sometimes ill-balanced; she has also a certain tinge of German affectation and a tendency to preciosity of language, while her liberal tendencies are due to her Protestant sympathies and her desire for popularity. As she feels herself cleverer than the Duc de Nemours and knows that he is not ambitious, she has no fear of him, but she is afraid of the King, who also mistrusts her mental attitude. Her relations with the Queen are by no means intimate and grow cooler every day. She is on better terms with Madame Adélaïde and has one friend in the family, the Prince de Joinville, who is truly an heroic nature, brilliant, undaunted, independent and bold, while he is very fond of his sister-in-law. The Duc d'Aumale, who is a capable and courageous soldier, is behaving excellently in Africa and showing every qualification for the position of Viceroy of Algeria which is in store for him. The Duc de Montpensier, perhaps the cleverest of the King's sons, is still very young and is of no account at present.

Clermont-en-Argonne, May 21, 1843.– My journey has passed off without accident, but the weather is damp and unpleasant and the country looks very dreary; however, from this point onwards, it is more diversified and wooded and corresponds to the description of the Argonne which I read at Baden some years ago. Travelling in a pretty country with some friend, in fine weather, with curiosity aroused and satisfied, may certainly be charming, but to be transported in a box on wheels without interest or attraction is the most foolish of all imaginable occupations.

Metz, May 22, 1843.– The church of Meaux is being restored and the houses about it are being pulled down. Had it not been for the damp and for a slight indisposition which I feel, I should have gone in: I have been anxious for so long a time to see the pulpit where Bossuet preached. I have finished the second volume of Walckenauer on Madame de Sévigné and prefer it to the first; it is cleverly written and the interest is well sustained; new information is given upon a theme which seemed to be exhausted, information that has been collected with great trouble and is cleverly expounded. I gained a better understanding of the great trial of Fouquet from this book than from any other.

Saarbrück, May 23, 1843.– I am travelling terribly fast, am now beyond the French frontier and shall soon cross another frontier in the shape of the Rhine. Every stage that I pass saddens me and even a post painted black and white, or a brook is too much.

I have read the first half of the first volume of M. de Custine's work on Russia.89 The preface is too metaphysical, though there is a passage on Protestantism and the so-called national and political churches which is clever and striking; further there is a faithful portrait of the Hereditary Grand Duke of Russia. I was especially struck by two chapters composed of letters to the late Madame de Custine, the author's mother. A short account is given of this amiable woman's heroic life: she was one of my friends and I have deeply regretted her; in point of age she might have been my mother and retained very little of her beauty when I knew her, but she had great charm and every attractive quality. I have been constantly told that she was a great coquette and I daresay this statement is true; she was left a widow so young and was so pretty and so unguarded that such behaviour was natural and excusable. The same behaviour was attributed to her at the time when I knew her; the fact may have been true, but her manner was reserved and quiet, she spoke modestly and her appearance was absolutely respectable. I saw her die without a murmur; in consequence, I am favourably, even indulgently disposed towards M. de Custine and his books, which are always clever, sometimes talented, and are very true when he writes of Russia. I do not think, however, that he should publish so much truth when gratitude should order him to be silent, but men of letters will do anything. They are a class of whom I think very little.

Mannheim, May 24, 1843.– My slight indisposition makes me annoyed with everything I do. M. de Custine's book is the only thing which seems to suit me; in spite of the affectation of the style and the brilliancy which is obvious even where it rather diminishes than heightens the effect, and a constant attempt at display, the book amuses and interests me. I do not know enough of the places or the facts to check the accuracy of the narrative or descriptions, but by tradition or from my Russian acquaintances I am well enough informed to consider the resemblances perfect. His story, for instance of the thousands of workmen who were sacrificed in order to rebuild the Imperial Winter Palace at St. Petersburg with undue rapidity, was related to me at Berlin. The plague of vermin at St. Petersburg, especially of bugs, was also well known to me and the following instance was told me by the Prince of Prussia at the marriage of his niece:90 he said that the newly built palace was dried by excessive artificial heat and was so infested with vermin that the bride was devoured the first night that she slept there and was obliged to appear at the entertainments covered with red marks. She changed her rooms the next day, but I am assured that the plague was very general, and that the best-kept houses are not exempt from it. This is to be explained by the superheating and the way in which houses are hermetically sealed for nine months in the year.

The following message reached me from the Grand Duchess Stephanie and is very characteristic of her. It was a kind and even tender note in which she told me that she would call at ten o'clock and bring me back to lunch with her at eleven, after a drive to take advantage of the fine weather; and this though she knew that since Metz I have been in the open air without a break. However, one must take people as they are and I should not care to show reluctance for the single day that I am here. Further, the weather is really very fine.

Mannheim, May 25, 1843.– The Grand Duchess came for me yesterday morning at ten o'clock. I found her much older and depressed. The same people are with her; old Walsch, clever and tactless, who appears in the evening, the Baroness Sturmfeder who gives a good appearance to the household, the excellent little Kageneck, the modest Schreckenstein and the old almoner. At dinner there were also Prince Charles of Solms, son-in-law of the Queen of Hanover and a Count Herding, of whom I have nothing to say. I was overwhelmed with questions but I also allowed myself to ask a few. Princess Marie, or rather the Marchioness of Douglas is travelling in Italy and is deeply in love with her handsome husband who appears to answer all her wishes. I had full details of the wedding, the presents, the splendour of it and the settlements, etc. It was all very magnificent. The couple are soon to come this way on their road to England and Scotland. Princess Marie is thought to be with child. Lord Douglas took her from Venice to Goritz, where she was very kindly received by the illustrious exiles: while there she wrote to her mother saying that the Duc de Bordeaux has a handsome face and is a pleasant talker, but his figure is terribly heavy and he limps a great deal. Mademoiselle, though very attractive, was too small and lacking in distinction. The Grand Duchess will shortly pay a visit to her daughter, Princess Wasa, who is living in the castle of Eichorn, two leagues from Brünn in Moravia. Prince Wasa insists upon a divorce: the Princess will not consent and the Grand Duchess, who has every reason to fear a trial, wishes to induce her daughter not to run the risk and to come back to Mannhein here, though she is not personally enchanted with the prospect, as she fears the unbalanced and troublesome character of her daughter Louise. Prince Wasa has behaved very rudely to his mother-in-law and is, moreover, almost ruined. All this is a great anxiety to the Grand Duchess. She has given up the castle of Baden to the Grand Duke and bought his town house which she proposes to enlarge, to decorate and to beautify generally.

Cologne, May 26, 1843.– I embarked this morning at Mayence where I arrived yesterday morning in fine sun-light but also in a violent wind. Rain and hail soon alternated with the hurricane and the waves of the Rhine rose and became unpleasantly maritime in character. The Grand Duchess Stephanie told me that she thought the reputation of the Rhine scenery exaggerated, and I am inclined to agree with her. The river is beautiful and magnificently framed: the villages, the churches, and the ruins surround it with historical recollections, it is true, but the lack of vegetation gives an unpleasant aridity to the country; however, the journey is interesting and even poetical if anybody is so minded. The castle of Stolzenfels, as seen from the boat, is pretty but by no means grandiose; this is a castle which the King of Prussia has just restored and enlarged so that he was able to stay there with sixty people on his last visit; the interior is said to be charming and to command an excellent view. As for Rheinstein which Prince Frederick has laid out, it is quite a small place: it can only be approached on horseback, whereas it is possible to drive up to Stolzenfels. The several communes which owned old ruined castles on the Rhine have presented them to different princes of the house of Prussia: thus, apart from Stolzenfels, which belongs to the King, and Rheinstein, which belongs to Prince Frederick, the Prince of Prussia has received a castle, as also has Prince Charles, and even the Queen has her own. They are all on the left bank and the King has ordered the new owners to restore them and make them habitable. The castle of Hornbach, where Young Germany held its revolutionary meetings, before the establishment of the Commission of Mayence, is on the right bank and in the Bavarian states: the King of Bavaria has just presented it to his son, the Prince Royal; he has changed its name and it is now called Maxburg.

I made some progress to-day with the second volume of M. de Custine. He reports conversations which he had with the Emperor and Empress, which are graceful and lively, but were inspired by the idea that they would be printed. As I read all these I wondered if a traveller who owes his magnificent entertainment to the fear of his judgment as an author, to the desire that he may show his hosts kindness in his book, and avoid any partiality in his descriptions, is bound by the same degree of gratitude as the traveller who is well treated from disinterested motives, merely because his character happens to please. I admit that my judgment in this respect wavers a little and though in any case I should think a delicate discretion preferable, I cannot help finding some excuse for a man who thinks himself less entirely bound by interested politeness than he would be by spontaneous kindness. In any case the imperial conversations are described in a sufficiently laudatory style: the most unfettered and critical mind is always more or less influenced by marks of condescension from a crown. None the less this work will cause profound dissatisfaction in Russia and the welcome given to travellers will certainly be colder and more reserved.

Iserlohn, May 27, 1843.– I left Cologne this morning without regretting the inn of Rheinsberg. All these inns on the banks of the Rhine are nicely situated. They contain furniture of inlaid wood, and stuffed sofas with pretty coverings; but their proximity to the water and their exposed position make them very cold. The want of fireplaces is displeasing, as wind and damp have an easier entrance owing to the lack of shutters and blinds. In the month of May the double windows have been removed, and I really regret them. Daylight, which arrives before four o'clock, and cannot be excluded, leads to untimely waking, and is an inconvenience at which I grumbled the more as the noise of forty-five steamboats, the bells which announced their departure and the clatter of the stokers, make an uproar which lasts for nearly twenty-four hours; then there is the noise made by people coming and going in the inn, and the combination is enough to make one ill. Had it not been for the rain, I should have gone this morning to the Cathedral to see how far our subscriptions – for I have also subscribed – have advanced the work upon this fine monument during the last three years; but the weather was so bad, and I felt so worn out by the most execrable little German bed in all its Teutonic purity, that I had no courage to get wet in order to satisfy my curiosity, and re-entered my carriage in a bad temper.