Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1831-1835

M. Guizot, who had to break the news to the Queen, told me that she was seized with an attack of nerves, that Madame Adélaïde was in despair, and yet so angry that she lost all self-control and literally did not know what she was doing. As for Madame de Broglie, who was also at the Chancellerie at the Place Vendôme with the Queen, she was much affected, but had her emotion under control. On this occasion M. Guizot told me that he felt inclined to compare Madame de Broglie's soul to a great desert in which there are beautiful oases. There are many gaps in her nature, and yet much force and power.

Paris, September 9, 1835.– The absurdities of Sébastiani are talked of even in the cabinet of Madame Adélaïde; and they seem in fact to pass all bounds. He is much laughed at in London, which he does not like at all. He says, in his dogmatic and paralytic way, "English society gives me indigestion." As for his wife, her silliness and simplicity have become proverbial. They entertain very little, and no one comes near them; Lord Palmerston alone, in order to mark the contrast with the insolence with which he honoured M. de Talleyrand, is constantly paying little attentions to the General. He is always coming to see him, and is most careful to keep him supplied with all the news.

The English Legion raised by General Alava has just been beaten in Spain. The abominable canaille he recruited turned and fled at once.

The compromise between the two Houses in England has taken place; it is a truce until next Session.

I have seen the King, who gave me his account of July 28. It is a very curious thing that on the evening before he had told his Ministers that they would shoot at him from a window, that being the surest method of assassination. M. Thiers and General Athalin feared an attack at close quarters, and wished the King to take precautions against this, but he absolutely refused to do so as being useless. The King's advisers partly adopted his Majesty's view, but said they thought the attempt, if made at all, would be made in a narrow street. The King, on the other hand, maintained that they were wrong, and that the attempt would be made on the Boulevard because of the trees, which would afford better cover for the assassin. The King's predictions all came true. He told me that the most cruel moment in his life – which has certainly not been without incident – was when the order of the review brought him back after half an hour to the scene of the crime, and he was forced to pass through pools of blood and among the dead and wounded, amid the cries and lamentations of the people who had been torn to pieces because of him. When he rejoined his family he burst into tears, and his first words were, "Poor Marshal Mortier is dead." No one could have been more self-forgetful, more simply courageous, and yet more moved by the misfortunes of others. His conduct was really admirable, as is unanimously admitted.

The Emperor of Russia did not write personally, but contented himself with sending condolences by a chargé d'affaires. This is all the worse, as he wrote a letter with his own hand to the widow of the Duc de Trévise, who had been Ambassador at St. Petersburg. Several small Sovereigns were also silent. The letters from Austria were cordial, those from Prussia excellent, Saxony was tender, England correct, Holland kind but otherwise without interest.

The King, who very justly fears any shock, wishes to keep the present Ministry as long as possible, but he thinks he already sees some new germs of division which he fears will develop during the sick leave for which M. Thiers has applied and which will be accorded. The composition of a new Cabinet would be very difficult, chiefly owing to the question of the Presidency, which touches everybody's vanity. The King would like to abolish the Presidency altogether, and with this in view he would like to entrust it for a short time to some exceptional person with whom no one would compete and who could have no successor. It is thus that he comes to think of M. de Talleyrand. His Majesty is at least as antagonistic as ever to the doctrinaire party in the Cabinet, and fears above all that if there were a partial dissolution it would be this factor which would be strengthened.

I am always surprised when people lie without any particular object. It is quite natural that newspapers should amuse themselves by deceiving the public, but when Ministers of State amuse themselves by telling falsehoods the effect is curious. Thus M. Guizot told me the day before yesterday that it was he who broke the news of the catastrophe of July 28 to the Queen at the Hôtel de la Chancellerie. Well, it appears that the Princesses were told of the danger to which the King had just been exposed while they were still at the Tuileries and on the point of leaving for the Chancellerie, by two aides-de-camp sent by the King for that purpose! Vanity leads people into very contemptible things. Could anything be more childish than to invent a lying story about a fact of this kind?

Paris, September 10, 1835.– M. le Duc d'Orléans regrets that the Würtemberg project of marriage has not come off. He says he wishes to settle the matter as regards Princess Sophia, and to visit Stuttgart when he next goes to Germany. He says that if he married some one else without having seen her, he would be convinced that he had missed his true fate.

M. le Duc d'Orléans is very bitter about the Ministry in general; the royal family is disposed to blame the negligence and obstinacy (if it is no worse) of the police for what has happened. He is sure that for some time back the police have been wanting in ability, but as for the escape of Pépin, he is convinced it is due to the negligence of M. Pasquier, who sits languidly in an arm-chair and gives incomplete orders, and also to some extent to M. Martin du Nord, who transmits these orders, with even less detail, to inferior agents, who carry them out in the slackest way. M. Legonidec, in exculpating himself, makes very grave charges against his superiors, and some go so far as to say that M. Pasquier is negligent because he fears to find some Carlist at the bottom of the Fieschi affair. This is what Madame Adélaïde wants, and what the Queen fears above all things. The King thinks that the attempt has a Republican origin. The essential thing is to get at the truth if possible, and the determination of Ministers to see nothing in the whole affair but a conspiracy conceived in a cabaret is not one which is likely to lead to new discoveries.

Prince Leopold of Naples is accused of practising such duplicity in the matter of his marriage that any other than Princess Marie might have been disgusted with the affair. She is, however, anxious to be settled; no other match offers, and, as the King says, "You know, of course, that Neapolitan princesses simply must be married." His daughter is half a Neapolitan.

The eldest of our Princesses, the Queen of the Belgians, had so little inclination for the King, her husband, that she refuses ever to return to Compiègne, where her marriage was solemnised; and it is chiefly for this reason that the Court is arranging to go to Fontainebleau. However, this disinclination on the part of Queen Louise has been transformed into a conjugal affection so intense that she lives almost shut up with the King in a tête-à-tête which is hardly interrupted even by her ladies or the Master of the Household who receive all their orders in writing. The King and the Queen occupy adjoining rooms, the doors of which are left open. The King, who is timid and domestic in his habits, likes this sort of life very well, and it is much to his wife's taste, for she is only loved by her husband, while he is adored by her. I have these details from her brother, the Duc d'Orléans.

Paris, September 11, 1835.– My son Alexander, who is just returned from Italy, says that the country is covered with monks flying from Spain and taking with them the treasures of their convents. The precious stones which come from this source are being sold cheap.

The Queen of the French, though in delicate health, goes to bed late, and never retires without having herself read all the petitions addressed to her. She does this chiefly because she fears she might miss some information which might be given in this form and might concern the King's safety.

On July 28, at the very moment when he saw his three sons round him, he turned to M. Thiers and, stretching out his hand, said, "Do not be alarmed: I am alive and well." These are words worthy of Henri IV.!

Maintenon, September 12, 1835. – This place is quite restored and furnished. The rooms are fine; there is a large establishment. The river is clear, and the aqueducts are on a great scale. For any one who does not miss a view, and who does not fear the damp, this old château, which has so many associations, is one of the most splendid and attractive abodes possible.

Courtalin, September 13, 1835. 54– Here they know all about what is passing at the Court of Charles X. It is said that the language there on the subject of the crime of July 28 has been very kind and correct. That unhappy Court spends its time in internal warfare and animosity. There are exactly the same intrigues and rivalries as there used to be at Rome at the Court of the Pretender.

Rochecotte, September 14, 1835.– This morning I went to see the Prince de Laval at his pretty manor of Montigny, which he is arranging and adorning in the most delightful manner, while trying to preserve its Gothic character. It is a place which suits well with the heraldic tastes of its possessor.

At Tours I found the Prefect rather irritated at a Ministerial order requiring an exact report of the newspapers which the officials of the Government take in. This little inquisition does, in fact, somewhat recall the curiosity which used to be displayed under the Restoration.

Valençay, September 15, 1835.– To-day I dined at Beauregard with Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde. It is a fine house, an old hunting lodge of François I., which he used when stag hunting from Chambord, in the Forest of Roussé. There is a gallery with a hundred and twenty portraits, which are very bad but interesting because they represent all the celebrated people of the period in Europe. The gallery is paved with tiles contemporary with the house. There is a good deal of old panelling and furniture very well preserved by their present owner.

I arrived late at Valençay and found M. de Talleyrand thinner, complaining of palpitation of the heart, and of some rather painful trouble in his left arm. He had just got a letter from the King announcing the appointment of M. de Bacourt as Minister at Carlsruhe. The following extract refers to the want of deference with which M. de Broglie treats him: "My dear Prince, the method which in my 'impotence' I decided to use has proved completely successful, and what you desired55 has been done. I wished to have at any rate the pleasure of announcing this to you myself while renewing most cordially the assurance of my old friendship for you which you have known so long."

The King of the French is not the only Sovereign who does not like his Ministers. The King of England hates his and speaks openly against them at table, as well as against his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Kent, who meanwhile is taking her daughter about from county to county receiving addresses and answering them just as if she were Regent already.

Valençay, September 16, 1835.– Mlle. Sabine de Noailles is sixteen, very beautiful, very clever and well educated, with a voice like a man, an excellent memory like all the Noailles, and rather brusque manners. At dinner at Courtalin she raised her voice, and addressing M. de Talleyrand, who was not next to her, she said: "Uncle, will you drink a glass of wine with me?" "With great pleasure, my dear nephew!" replied M. de Talleyrand.

The Duke of Modena is playing the petty tyrant in his Duchy. One of his commonest practices is to have the whiskers and moustaches of those whose passports are in any way irregular cut off. The fashion of the day makes this a more cruel punishment than imprisonment, which, however, his victims have usually to suffer in addition!

The grandmother of the present Duc d'Arenberg, an intimate friend of Maria Theresa, a great and noble lady in all respects, came to France under the Consulate to secure her removal from the list of émigrés and the restoration of such of her property as was still sequestrated. She stayed with the Maréchale de Beauveau, who was a friend of hers. She had to write to Fouché requesting an interview, which being granted she went to the Hôtel de Police. Her carriage was not allowed to enter, and she had to alight and cross the dirty courtyard. The Minister was engaged and could not receive the Duchess, whom he referred to his principal clerk. The latter said she might sit down while he was looking for the box with the papers about her case. He began to turn over an index and exclaimed, "But your name was removed a fortnight ago; it is struck out altogether, and since I am the first to give you the good news I must have a kiss, Citoyenne d'Arenberg." Whereupon he seized the Duchess and kissed her on both cheeks. But before Madame d'Arenberg was at the bottom of the steps he called her back, shouting: "Hi! Citoyenne d'Arenberg! I made a mistake; it is not you but one d'Alembert who is struck out!" So the poor Duchess had to go back to Madame de Beauveau having been kissed by the clerk but not struck out of the list. The First Consul, who heard the story next day, ordered the Duchess's name to be struck out at once and she got back her property.

Valençay, September 17, 1835.– The Princesse de Lieven has had a curious conversation at Baden with M. Berryer the Advocate and Deputy. "What do you think, monsieur, of the new laws proposed by the French Government on the occasion of the attempt of July 28?" "I approve of them in principle, and that is why I intend to absent myself from the Chamber, where my position would oblige me to oppose them." – "Do you think the Government will last?" – "No." – "Do you think there will be a Republic?" – "No." – "Do you think Henri V. will come in?" – "No." – "What, then, do you think?" – "Nothing, for in France it is impossible to establish anything." M. Berryer left the next day for Ischl to see Madame la Duchesse de Berry there, and is bound thence for Naples.

Valençay, September 18, 1835.– I am anxious about M. de Talleyrand – not that I think that the symptoms he complains of are serious, but he is impressed by them. He often speaks of his end, and is evidently afraid of it, and thrusts the idea away from him with horror. He often sighs, and yesterday I heard him exclaim, "Ah, mon Dieu!" in a tone of the deepest dejection. Politics and news interest him, but there is not much of those to be had here.

Valençay, September 19, 1835.– Lord Alvanly came back in a cab from the scene of his duel with O'Connell's son and gave a piece of gold to the cabman. The latter, surprised at this generosity, said, "What, my lord, a sovereign for taking you so near your death?" – "No, my man, but for taking me back!"

I sent for the excellent Dr. Bretonneau from Tours to examine M. de Talleyrand. He says that the trouble is only muscular, the muscles being bruised and weary with the efforts M. de Talleyrand has to make owing to the failure of his legs. He thinks, moreover, that he is in a nervous state and is languid and bored, but that there is nothing dangerous. The worst feature is the growing weakness of his extremities which might at any moment reduce him to complete helplessness. In short all the circumstances point to living with difficulty, but none suggest that the end is near. I hope that Bretonneau's presence and his kind and clever talk will have calmed M. de Talleyrand's mind.

Valençay, September 20, 1835.– General Sébastiani has been nearly blown up in Manchester Square in London. A new Fieschi had deposited an infernal machine there with the result that one poor woman was injured. There are as yet no further particulars. There is nothing but crime and mystery in these days!

M. Royer-Collard spoke to us yesterday of his last speech in the Chamber of Deputies. He said that if he had held his peace he would have thought himself dishonoured, that he would rather have had himself carried to the tribune than be silent in a situation in which the glory of his whole life was at stake, and finally that he would be dead now if he had not spoken and that the only reason he is not better than he is, is that he did not manage to express all that he was thinking.

I was bold enough to touch on the subject of the Cours Prévôtales56 at the time of the second Restoration, for which he has been so much blamed lately, and M. Royer-Collard replied: "It is true that I, with several Councillors of State, was appointed to examine the Bill before the Minister introduced it in the Chamber. M. Cuvier and I opposed it in principle and secured many modifications in detail. M. de Marbois, who was then Garde des Sceaux, and who did not like the law, wished it to be introduced in the Chamber by people who were opposed to it, and appointed me Government Commissary without consulting me. I did not know what had been done till I saw the Moniteur and I complained bitterly. I did not appear in the Chamber as Commissary during the discussion of the law, and I defy any one to quote a word I ever said in its favour." He added that M. Guizot, then Secretary-General at the Ministry of Justice, should not have contented himself with being so good as to quote to his colleagues in the present Cabinet the Moniteur which contained his name. He should at the same time have explained how it happened. If this accusation had been made in the Chamber instead of merely in the Ministerial press M. Royer-Collard would have ascended the tribune to give the true version of the matter.

He is sorry to have wounded M. Thiers by his speech, which was not aimed at him, and he would have liked to be able to make an exception in his favour.

M. Royer-Collard, who has not always either thought or spoken well of King Louis-Philippe, has changed his mind to a remarkable extent. Last night, à propos of the fine portrait of the King which is here, he said he had gone up very much in his opinion, more than he was willing to admit to himself, so great was the contradiction between his past and present opinions on this point, and between his reason and his prejudices.

Valençay, September 21, 1835.– M. de Talleyrand was reassured for a day or two by the conscientious and satisfactory report of Bretonneau, but has now relapsed into anxieties about his health. He admits that he thinks of nothing else and says that the cause lies in his state of mind, which is depressed and weary. Yesterday evening when I went back to his room I found him reading a medical book, studying the subject of heart disease, and fancying he had a polypus. Yet he suffers very little, only at long intervals, and then not without a purely natural cause. It is clear to me (and I know something about it) that he has an attack of nerves. He had no experience of this protean malady. He denied its existence in others and now he is a victim himself and will not admit it.

They say that General Alava has been appointed President of the Council at Madrid. He has been saying for the last year that he only accepted the mission to London because the Duke of Wellington was in office. He remained in spite of the Duke's resignation because, he said, Martinez de la Rosa was Premier at Madrid. The reason why he did not retire along with Martinez de la Rosa was, he explained, because Toreno was also his friend! He led the English Legion he had raised in London to Spain in person, after having sworn to declare for Don Carlos on the day the Queen Regent should summon a single foreigner to defend her cause, and finally he seems to have been placed at the head of the Spanish Cabinet by Mendezabal, whom he once drove out of his house as a rascal and a thief! This, it must be confessed, is to push the logic of inconsistency to its furthest limits!

Valençay, September 22, 1835.– This is the first occasion for twenty years that I have spent this anniversary57 away from M. de Talleyrand. He went away yesterday to the Conseil Général at Châteauroux. I remained alone here with the generation which is destined to succeed him. This gave rise to one or two reflections, among which was that when M. de Talleyrand departs this life I should come here very seldom – not that I fear that I should not be well treated, but the memories of the past would make everything painful to me, and that the contrast which even yesterday was visible would become more marked. I did not feel that it was my business to manage and carry on the salon. It was not my house, and I longed for wings in order to fly to Rochecotte.

M. Mennechet, up to the present time editor of la Mode, a Carlist paper, and defamatory on principle, says, "Just fancy; for five years I have been leading forlorn hopes on behalf of the Prague people and I have only had two letters from them, one from King Charles X. bitterly complaining of the caricatures of Louis-Philippe which we had sent him and which he ordered us to stop, and the other from Madame la Dauphine who two months ago wrote me a very severe letter, sending me back my paper and saying that she would give up her subscription because we had published an article in which it was said that we had seen or received a letter containing good news about the Duc de Bordeaux." M. Mennechet, much distressed by these two letters, has resigned the editorship. I think the letters are very reasonable and very creditable to the writers.

Valençay, September 23, 1835.– I am impatiently awaiting M. de Talleyrand's return from Châteauroux. Though he has become depressed and irritable, his presence does good here. It fills this great castle, and maintains good conversation and manners. Moreover, when he is here I feel there is a reason for my presence.

Valençay, September 24, 1835.– Bretonneau's diagnosis is justified. M. de Talleyrand has returned from Châteauroux revived and pleased with the reception of the Prefect and the enthusiasm of the whole town as well as by the success of the road in which he is interested.

Madame Adélaïde writes that the King's expedition to the town of Eu has been not only good for his health but gratifying to him personally and to all his family. The testimonies of affection which he received all along the way were impossible to describe.

Pépin was at last recaptured on the morning of the 22nd. This also I learn from Madame, but she had only just heard, and gives no details.

M. de Rigny is said to be at Toulon, which proves that he has not been successful in his negotiations for the Neapolitan marriage.

Valençay, September 28, 1835. – M. Brenier, who has just come from London, tells me that General Sébastiani hates music as much as his wife loves it. He will not allow her to go to the Opera or to concerts. One day, however, after many prayers, Madame Sébastiani obtained permission to go to a concert at Lady Antrobus's. It was on June 18, and the General was to call for his wife later. He arrived simultaneously with the Duke of Wellington, who was in uniform and surrounded by many officers, all coming from the great military dinner given on the occasion of the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. The singers were at the moment singing a hymn in honour of the conqueror. Sébastiani was furious, and told M. de Bourqueney, his First Secretary, who had gone with him, to tell Madame Sébastiani that she must leave. She does not understand English, and therefore did not grasp what the words of the cantata meant, and at first refused to leave her place. M. de Bourqueney, stimulated by the furious gestures of the General, almost dragged the poor woman out by force over the seats. When she finally got to her husband he said to her, in his pompous and sententious manner, "I told you, madame, that music would be your ruin!"

It was this same M. Bourqueney, who was lately writing for the Journal des Débats before he went to London with Sébastiani, who had the impudence to insinuate that he prepared for M. de Talleyrand from Paris the speech which the Prince made to the King of England in delivering the letters accrediting him to the Court of St. James's in 1830. The following is the history of this speech. M. de Talleyrand was just finishing dressing to go to the King, and said to me that it had occurred to him that it would not be amiss to say a word or two, as was the old fashion. In the peculiar circumstances of the time he thought it would be a good thing, but he had no time to prepare anything. Then he added: "Come, Madame de Dino, sit down and find me a few phrases, and please write them in your largest hand." I did so. He changed two or three words in my draft, which I recopied while his orders were being pinned on and his hat and cane were being brought. This is the precise history of this little speech, which by its fortunate allusions and a comparison between 1688 and 1830 attracted some attention at the time.58