The great diplomatic reception of the nobility and the garrison seems to have been superb. M. de Valençay was especially delighted by the races at Baden, where he was entertained by the Archduke Charles, who spoke to him very warmly of M. de Talleyrand. The Archduke received all the Frenchmen most cordially. They dined with the Archduchess Theresa, who is described by M. de Valençay as of an agreeable appearance, with pretty manners, and an attractive face. She is very dark and small. The Duc d'Orléans was seated near her at dinner, and their conversation was vivacious. Prince Metternich was also there. He has been reconciled, at any rate outwardly, with the Archduke.25 The latter has retired to the pretty town of Baden, where he grows flowers; he told M. de Valençay that, like all old soldiers, he loved his garden. The Duc d'Orléans was to dine there again by himself two days later. The Archduke adores his daughter, and will leave her free to choose her own husband; she has refused the Crown Prince of Bavaria, and is to inspect the Kings of Naples and Greece. The Russian alliance alone causes her father some fears.
M. de Valençay was also delighted with the entertainment at Laxemburg, and the water-parties, with music everywhere, which reminded him of Virginia Water. All the society of Vienna was there informally, and the scene was correspondingly animated.
It is quite clear that all this causes ill-feeling at Prague. The Dauphine was speaking to some one who asked her, when she was about to start for Vienna, at what time they would have the honour of seeing her again; she replied that any one who wanted to see her henceforward would have to come and fetch her. A Vienna lady, a strong political opponent of France, said before M. de Valençay, in speaking of our Prince Royal, that he was so kind and gracious it was to be hoped that he was not something else!
The travellers are to start on the 11th and make their way to Milan through Verona, devoting ten days to the journey.
The Prince of Capua and Miss Penelope are at Paris. The former has seen the Queen; he will go to Rome, and there open negotiations for a reconciliation with Naples.
All the Coburg family and the Belgian King and Queen are coming to Neuilly.
Valençay, June 17, 1836.– It seems that every day must be marked by some tribulation. Yesterday evening we had a terrible fright, the consequences of which might have been most serious; they seem to have been but slight, though the doctor says that we cannot be certain for nine days that no internal shock has been sustained. M. de Talleyrand's mania for staying out late brought him back yesterday in his little carriage when it was pitch-dark; moreover, he childishly amused himself by steering a zigzag course, so that he twisted the front wheel. This checked his progress, and he could not perceive the cause in the darkness, so he told the servant to push harder, which he did. The result was a violent jolt, which shot him out of the carriage and threw him head first with his face on the ground upon the gravel of the Orange Court at the entry of the donjon. His face was badly bruised, but fortunately his nose bled freely; he did not lose consciousness, and wished to sit in the drawing-room and play piquet. At midnight he put his feet in hot mustard and water, and is now asleep. But what a terrible nervous shock at his age and with his weight, and when he is suffering from a malady which demands that he should be spared every emotion and disturbance!
Valençay, June 18, 1836.– M. de Talleyrand's face has suffered considerably, but otherwise he seems to have escaped miraculously from this remarkable fall.
Valençay, June 21, 1836. 26 – Do you remember that it was you who refused any form of conversation upon the subject of religion? Only upon one occasion at Rochecotte did you give me any outline of your ideas upon this subject; at that time you were more advanced than myself in respect of certain beliefs. My experiences since that date have brought me more rapidly along the road, but my starting-point has been my recollection of that conversation, in which I saw that you admitted certain fundamental principles of which I was not sure. In any case, my speculations have not advanced beyond that point, and only in points of practice do I attempt to guide my movements by this compass; I have never busied myself with dogmas or mysteries, and if I prefer the Roman Catholic religion I do so because I think it most useful to society in general and to States; individual religion is a different matter, and I think any religion based upon the Gospel is equally good and divine. Since I have seen all supports falling away around me, I have felt my own weakness and the necessity of some support and guide; I have sought and found; I have knocked and it has been opened to me; I have asked and it has been given to me; and yet all very incompletely hitherto, for when one thus walks alone and ill prepared it is impossible to avoid wrong paths, or to avoid slipping in the ruts with continual stumbles. Nor would it have been wise to arouse myself to excessive zeal and fervour, which would have prepared a reaction, perhaps fatal; I therefore advance step by step, and when I consider my progress am humiliated to see how little I have risen; a little more kindness, patience, and self-command is all that I have acquired. I have the same delight in the things that please me, the same repugnance for those that weary me, my dislikes are not extinct and enmity remains keen, my mental anxiety is often wearing, my energies are inconsistent, my speech often too hasty and its expression inconsiderate. I have, too, a thousand modes of self-flattery; I am wounded by blame, and too pleased by approbation, which I sometimes seek and would be ready to arouse at necessity; in fact, there is no task so long and difficult and none that demands more exertion and perseverance than to satisfy one's conscience.
Apart from the practical methods which I have felt must be followed as a thread to guide me through the labyrinth, I have also been helped by a great sense of gratitude. One day in England I was suddenly struck by the thought of the innumerable favours which had been granted to me, though I had made so ill a use of my powers and my advantages. I admire the patience of God and the long-suffering of Providence towards me; to have found what I have found seems to me so real a blessing and so ill-deserved that it has filled me with gratitude. This sense has continually increased, and partially supports me in accomplishing the sacrifices which I am making. The deep instruction to be daily derived from the old age of M. de Talleyrand; the death of Marie Suchet;27 her mother's grief; the successive deaths of so many of my acquaintances of different ages, sexes, and positions; of the granddaughter whose eyes I have closed,28 and who brought death so near to me; the close reading of good books; the lofty conversation of M. de Royer-Collard, who is ready to throw aside philosophic doubts and is slowly succeeding – all these influences have made me consider a thousand matters hitherto unnoticed, and have directed me towards a lofty and a certain goal. Such is the story of this side of my life. My attitude, however, is not that of outward profession, and I can say that I am more advanced in reality than in form; in the latter respect, I doubt if I shall ever change.
What a long answer this is to one small page of your letter! If it seems to you too long, say so, and we will reserve all these revelations for evenings at Rochecotte.
The Duc d'Orléans gives a glowing account of a conversation with Prince Metternich, by which he was delighted.
The Princesse de Lieven has just gone away, to the general relief. I think that the Princess and her proud niece29 came to feel that they had been somewhat ridiculous here, as they went to some trouble on their last day to utter innumerable thanks and excuses for the inconvenience they had caused, &c.
Valençay, June 24, 1836.– How stupid ill-nature is! Madame de Lieven has been unkind enough to write to Paris groaning and lamenting over the profound boredom which she felt here, and her correspondents have been laughing at us or using her words against us; the fact is widely known and commented upon. Our friends told us of it with great indignation. This small ingratitude on the part of Madame de Lieven, which apparently arises on this occasion from want of social experience, is real stupidity; in any case, I am not surprised; I would have made a bet that it was so; her weariness was too profound to be concealed, and I clearly saw that the need of revenge was felt in her correspondence.