Valençay, July 10, 1836.– My son, Valençay, arrived yesterday; he told us nothing new about his travels, and only confirmed his previous letters. We have also the Prince de Laval, by whom M. de Talleyrand is wearied to death, and with good reason. At Paris the Prince is tolerable, and sometimes even amusing, but in the country his want of judgment and his snobbishness, which induces him to say, for instance, that the orange-tree, pruned, clipped short, and planted in a box, is the aristocracy of nature, his continual practice of asking questions, of stammering and spitting before one's face, and always looking on the insignificant side of things, are most wearing; and he does not say a word of his departure.
The Duc d'Orléans writes to say that only for reasons of state would he be sorry not to marry the daughter of the Archduke Charles, for her attractions for him are entirely moral; in person he thinks her, if not ugly, yet insignificant, and he is not attracted. In any case, the father and daughter readily assent to the proposal of marriage; the Emperor of Austria says nothing; but his brother the Archduke Francis Charles and his sister-in-law the Archduchess Sophie say "No."
Valençay, July 13, 1836.– Yesterday evening we had a visit from the Duc Decazes37 and the Comte de la Villegontier, who stopped for tea on their way to their foundry at Aveyron. M. Decazes was sad and sorrowful concerning the King's dangers and the open sores in society, as revealed by the trial of Alibaud. He also complains, and with reason, of the organisation, or rather the non-organisation, of the police. He says that the King alone has preserved his calm and presence of mind, but that around him all are sad, anxious, and agitated, and that the Queen and Madame are very unhappy. Marshal Lobau has persuaded the King that the National Guard would take it ill if his Majesty did not review them on the 28th of this month. He will therefore pass under the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile, where the National Guard will march before him. But this is too much. The July festivals will be confined to the opening of the Arc de Triomphe, and the Obelisk from Luxor will be unveiled. No further commemoration would be required, in my opinion.
Alibaud yielded to the exhortations of the Abbé Grivel. He confessed, and therefore has repented. On the scaffold he kissed the crucifix before the people, but when one of the servants took away his black veil he flew into a rage and turned suddenly round to the multitude, red in the face, crying, "I die for my country and for liberty," and then he submitted.
M. Decazes also told us that every day brought him anonymous letters, denunciations, and revelations, and that it was impossible to get a moment's peace. He left me in profound sadness.
Valençay, July 16, 1836.– The Prince de Laval, who is still here, admiring everything and evidently well pleased in spite of our political differences, has a certain form of wit which consists in saying smart and clever remarks now and then, but these are wanting in taste and balance. His class snobbishness recalls that of M. Saint-Simon, his caste prejudice is carried to a ridiculous point, his curiosity and gossip are unexampled, and his selfishness and absorption in his own importance and amusement are inconceivable; he advances every claim on his own behalf, and is therefore unbearable when taken seriously. Taken the other way, there is something to be got out of him, the more so as, though he is a tease, he is not ill-tempered, and the very extravagance of his poses forces him to live up to them.
The Duc de Noailles, whom we also expect here to-day, is very different; he is reasonable, self-possessed, cold, polite, and reserved, asking no questions, never chattering nor wearying anybody; but though he is unpretentious his claims to consideration are none the less real, and he is absorbed, first of all by his position as a great lord, and then as a politician. His position as a man of fashion and fortune, of which Adrien de Laval boasts his past possession, as they are now gone, has no attraction for him. I might even say that if M. de Laval is a quondam young man, the Duc de Noailles is an old man before his time. He is only thirty-four or thirty-five, but his face, his manners, and his life in general make him appear fifty.
Paris, July 27, 1836.– I think more and more of the Duc de Noailles. He is a man of good judgment, sound taste, with a sense of honour and excellent manners. He is also dignified and possessed of common sense, while his goodwill is valuable, and his high position may be useful in the world in which he is a figure. But my high opinion of his good qualities and the value which I set upon his goodwill and friendship do not prevent me from seeing his pretentiousness. His chief ambition is political, and is not, perhaps, sufficiently supported by the ease of temperament which is quite indispensable at the present time. The whole family has remained what it was two hundred years ago. The Noailles are rather illustrious than ancient, rather courtiers than servants, but servants rather than favourites, intriguers rather than ambitious, society people rather than lords, snobs rather than aristocrats, and above all and before all, Noailles. I know the whole of the family existing at the present time; the best and most capable of them is undoubtedly the Duc, whom I judge perhaps somewhat severely, but for whom I have always a real esteem.
I left Valençay the day before yesterday at six o'clock in the morning; my dear Pauline was very sad at being left behind; I slept at Jeurs with the Mollien family, reaching their house at eight o'clock in the evening, and arrived here in pretty good time. I found M. de Talleyrand in fairly good health, but much disturbed by the state of affairs. The King will not be present at to-morrow's review, and has given it up because of a discovery that fifty-six young people have sworn to kill him. As it was impossible to arrest these fifty-six, it has been thought more advisable to abandon the review. In what times we live!
The death of Carrel38 has also thrown a gloom over us. He made many mistakes, but his mind was distinguished and his talent remarkable. Even M. de Chateaubriand, the author of the "Génie du Christianisme," wept as he walked in the funeral procession of the man who refused to see a priest and forbade the holding of any Church ceremony at his funeral. The desire to produce an effect usually ends in some loss of taste and propriety in the most essential details.
Affairs in Spain are going very badly. The supporters of intervention are growing active, and many of them are influential and leading spirits, but the supreme will is in active opposition to them.
During my journey yesterday I was in very good company, with Cardinal de Retz, whose memoirs I have taken up again; I had not read them for many years, and then at an age when one is more attracted by the facts and the anecdotes than by the style or reflections. The style is lively, original, strong, and graceful, while the reflections are thoughtful, judicious, elevating, striking, and abundant. What a delightful book, and what insight, and often more than insight, in judgment, if not in action! He was a political La Bruyère.
Paris, July 28, 1836.– Yesterday the Duc d'Orléans came to see me. He is in very bad health and somewhat melancholy; he too is obliged to take an infinite number of precautions which sadden his life. The King had resolved to go to the review, but was at the same time so convinced that he would be killed that he made his will, and gave full orders and directions to his son concerning his accession to the throne.
At the end of the morning I also had a call from M. Thiers, who was very pleased with the news he had just received from Africa, with the political situation at home and abroad, and, in short, with everything, apart from the great and continual dangers which threaten the King's life. There were to have been several attempts upon the King's life on the day of the review; these attempts were to be organised separately and without connection. One was to be delivered by a group of men disguised as National Guards, who were to fire a volley of twenty shots at the King as he passed, one of which would certainly have found its mark. Two of the young men who have been arrested – and the arrests amount to more than a hundred – have already made important confessions. Yesterday morning a man was arrested in whose house was found a machine like Fieschi's, but more perfect and smaller in compass, with more accuracy and certainty in its working.
Paris, July 29, 1836.– Yesterday evening I was with the Queen. She seemed quite natural in manner, though she said very bitterly: "We can testify to ourselves that we are entirely upright, and yet we are forced to live amid terrors and with the precautions of tyrants." Madame Adélaïde urges her not to sadden the King's temper. He was with his Ministers,