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

It is the same with the letter of resignation which M. de Talleyrand wrote less than a year ago. The general idea is that M. Royer-Collard was its author, so here again follows an exact account of what passed. My conscience had told me that it was absolutely necessary that M. de Talleyrand should send in his resignation, and I familiarised him by degrees with this idea. I knew that he always found it difficult to express his thoughts in words, and that he preferred to act. I had, therefore, for a long time been considering what words it would be best to use. At last, one day last November, when we were alone here, I spoke again to M. de Talleyrand of the propriety, which was daily growing more obvious, of his sending in his resignation – a step from which he still shrank a little. He then said that the necessary letter would be very hard to write. Thereupon I immediately gathered together all that I had prepared in thought and put it into writing. I came back in half an hour and read what I had written to M. de Talleyrand, who was much struck with it and adopted it entire, all but two words, which he thought affected. I then asked him to submit the proposed letter to M. Royer-Collard, which he was quite willing to do. Next morning I left for Châteauvieux. M. Royer-Collard thought well of the letter, only putting at the end "the thoughts which it suggests" instead of "the warning which it gives," as I had written, and replacing one expression at the beginning, which he thought too pompous, by another in better taste. Thus, without any further alteration, this letter afterwards appeared in the Moniteur, and for a good while occupied public attention. All the letters of this period written by M. de Talleyrand to the King, Madame Adélaïde, and the Duke of Wellington, were first thrown on paper by me and then rehandled by him. It was only the first above-mentioned, which contained his resignation, which was corrected by M. Royer-Collard. The others were merely communicated to him, and he approved them all.

Valençay, October 1, 1835.– Yesterday I went to Châteauvieux; the weather was terrible.

M. Royer-Collard said that, of all the people he had ever met, the two most alike were Charles X. and M. de la Fayette. They were both equally mad, equally obstinate, and equally honest. Speaking of M. Thiers, he said: "He is a good-humoured rascal with plenty of cleverness and some sparks of greatness, but capable of losing an empire by his recklessness and excitability." Referring to the recent repressive laws, he said: "I have no love for dictators, but reason tells me that they are necessary at times. Perhaps the present is one of these times. But where are we to find the Dictator? If they frankly proposed the King I could understand it, but to think of the present Cabinet occupying such a position!"

Valençay, October 4, 1835.– Yesterday I heard some singular stories of M. Cousin, whose formerly revolutionary ideas have changed into monarchical sentiments of the most exalted character. Some delightful remarks on the subject are quoted. It seems that this illustrious Peer has composed a monarchical and Catholic Catechism. The work being completed it was laid before M. Guizot, who gave it his approval, as did M. Persil, Minister of Public Worship. The book was printed, sent out to educational establishments, and recommended to all the institutions under the University. After all this there came a poor priest with the book in his hand and proved that all these doctors had only forgotten one little thing in the whole system of Catholic doctrine, which was the doctrine of Purgatory, to which not the slightest allusion was made throughout the catechism, verified and approved as it was by M. Guizot, Minister of Public Instruction and a Calvinist!

Valençay, October 10, 1835.– A pedantic and ill-mannered Prefect spitefully refused permission to M. de Talleyrand to plant a few trees, saying that he was "à cheval sur la loi." "Dear me," replied M. de Talleyrand, "you have chosen to ride a sorry jade!"

The celebrated Alfieri was at first attracted by the ideas of the French Revolution, but became so disgusted with them, that he determined to leave France. The reason of this was that one day he was driving four-in-hand in the Bois de Boulogne at a great pace, himself holding the reins, when the horses were requisitioned by force for the public service. That very evening he announced his departure, and in reply to entreaties that he should remain, he observed, "What on earth is one to do in a country where the nobility have no daggers and the priests no poison!"

Valençay, October 16, 1835.– I am confronted with new anxieties. I had heard that the Princesse de Talleyrand was in an alarming condition, and that her end appeared to be approaching. The Baronne de Talleyrand, who told me, asked me to prepare M. de Talleyrand for this event. I confess I shrank from this mission. The gloomy ideas which have so frequently recurred to M. de Talleyrand's mind for some time, the depression caused by his great age, the anxiety which he feels at the slightest symptoms, the sharp and painful impression made on him by the deaths of his contemporaries – all this made me hesitate to tell him that his wife's days were numbered. I was not afraid of the shock of the bereavement, for his heart is not interested. But the disappearance of a person much of his own age, with whom he had lived and of whom he had once been fond, or who had been so indispensable to him that he had given her his name – all this made me think that the Princess's danger would affect him deeply.

I racked my brains to find some oblique way of getting at the subject without speaking directly of a seizure. My first remarks were received in silence, after which M. de Talleyrand immediately changed the subject. Next day, however, he returned to it, but only to refer to the embarrassment it would be to be in mourning if she did die, of the funeral, and of the cards that would be sent out. If the Princess did die, he said, he would go out of Paris for a week or a fortnight, and all this he said, not only without any trace of grief, but even in a tone of obvious relief. He immediately proceeded to enter on the financial questions of importance which are involved in his wife's death which would repossess him not only of her annuity, but also of other monies in which she has only a life interest. All the rest of the day M. de Talleyrand showed a kind of serenity and gaiety which I have not seen in him for a long time, and which struck me so much, that when I heard him positively humming a tune, I could not help asking him "if it was the fact that he was soon to be a widower that put him in such spirits." He made a face at me like a mischievous child, and went on talking about all there would be to do if the Princess were to die. He will have the satisfaction of an easier income, which will be a relief to him, as for some years past his revenues have, to his great annoyance, notably diminished owing to several causes. Besides this, it is probably a relief to him (though he will not acknowledge this even to me), to see a bond snapped which was the greatest scandal of his life because it was the only one which was irremediable.

Valençay, October 18, 1835.– After several months of silence, during which General Alava has come to grief at the head of the English ruffians he took with him to Spain, I have received a letter from him at Madrid, dated the 6th instant, which begins thus: "You were right, my dear Duchesse, when you once said that to enter Spain with foreign troops was to tempt Providence." The letter ends with another allusion to my prediction, which seems to have come true to a degree which poor absurd Alava can hardly bear. He insists, however, that he was in honour bound to this partisan existence which he dignifies with the epithet chivalrous, although it is merely Quixotic in the bad sense.

He does not need to explain why he refused the Premiership, but he says he took the Ministry of Foreign Affairs because he saw the safety of the Queen Regent was compromised. He does not say how. He then adds that as soon as he was reassured on this point he retired completely from the Cabinet, that his only desire is to resume his duties in London as soon as the session of the Cortès is over. He seems to feel the uncertainty of this, for he says, "Heaven alone knows what obstacles may come between me and London before then." He ends by saying that if he goes back to England it will be by sea in order to avoid Paris which, according to him, is a very dangerous place for a Spanish diplomatist.

As regards France, he says: "As they waited for the casus fœderis before they acted, the casus mortis in which we find ourselves, relieves us of the necessity of thinking of our liberation, which is a thing of which dead men have no need."

Paris, October 23, 1835.– We have been back in Paris some days.

M. le Duc d'Orléans was speaking to me yesterday of the Neapolitan marriage planned for his sister Princess Marie, which did not come off, and he told me that he had applied to his brother-in-law, the King of the Belgians, who is here just now, to find some younger son of a great German House who would be willing to marry the Princess and come and live at Paris. Princess Marie is clever, but her imagination is vivid and restless; she is fond of the arts, and is little used to restraint or to pomp and ceremony. They think she would be happier if established in Paris, and certainly freer than she would be elsewhere. No opportunity seems likely to occur of a foreign marriage; even the chance of such a thing seems more remote. The Princess is twenty-three, and the Queen is worried and anxious about it.

The pretensions of the King's children are in all things much reduced, for M. Guizot said the other day, when M. de Bacourt was leaving for Carlsruhe, that there might not be much to do, but there was one thing, which was to preserve the last Princess of Baden for M. le Duc d'Orléans. This Princess is the daughter of Stéphanie de Beauharnais. I doubt if this marriage would be agreeable to the young Prince, who only yesterday, à propos of the Leuchtenbergs, said some hard things of the Beauharnais family. He said they were all intriguers, and would not make an exception even in favour of the Grand Duchess Stéphanie of Baden who, in my opinion, deserves a place apart. She is not only a kindly woman, but there is in her a touch of sublimity, though she is a trifle too energetic and her pretensions to wit are excessive.

The Princesse de Talleyrand is better, and so little concerned about her condition that all she thinks of is how to secure further advantages for herself at her husband's death.

Paris, October 24, 1835.– M. Pasquier told us yesterday that they had been obliged to amputate one of Fieschi's finger-joints as a result of the wound caused by the bursting of his infernal machine, and that the patient grasped the injured finger with the other hand before the surgeons began their work saying: "Little one, I am sorry, but you are going to lose your head before I lose mine." His coolness, courage and physical strength are only equalled by his excessive vanity.

I find the Tuileries depressing, Madame Adélaïde aged, the King flushed and stouter. They are both cast down by the departure of the Prince Royal for Algeria. The punishment of an African brigand does not seem a sufficient motive for risking so precious a life. They are displeased with Ministers for having rather encouraged than checked the adventurous and highly natural impulse of the young Prince.

The cholera has ceased neither at Toulon nor in Africa; it may yet cause some calamity to the King. The failure of the Neapolitan marriage disappoints, and the extreme coldness of the new Russian Ambassador discourages them.

In the thirty-six hours he spent in Vienna with the ostensible purpose of paying his respects to the last Emperor of Austria, and with the real object of charming M. de Metternich through his wife, and the Archduke Louis through the Archduchess Sophia, the Czar of Russia rushed all over the city in a cab, forced the vault in which the last Emperor is buried, and contrived to change his uniform four times!

A propos of the appointment of Count Pahlen as Russian Ambassador in France the Carlists are saying that nothing can more clearly prove the rapprochement of the Czar Nicholas with King Louis-Philippe than the choice of the son of a murderer as Ambassador at the Court of the son of a regicide.

Paris, October 27, 1835.– M. de Talleyrand said yesterday that on his return from America, after all the horrors of the Revolution, he met Sieyès and asked him how he had got through that frightful time, and what he did during those miserable years. "I lived," replied Sieyès! It was in fact the best, and the most difficult, thing to do!

The Government, wishing to find a pretext for the liberation of the Ham prisoners,59 eagerly seized on some symptoms of mental derangement shown by M. de Chantelauze. M. Thiers intended after some months of an asylum to remove the prisoners to the country houses of friends who would be answerable for them, and with this end in view he had appointed a commission of celebrated physicians to inquire into the condition of M. de Chantelauze and at the same time that of the other ex-Ministers. M. de Chantelauze however, as soon as he heard of the impending arrival of the doctors, hastened to declare that he would receive them politely as eminent persons but not in their medical capacity, that he would answer none of their questions, and that he desired his complete and instantaneous liberation or nothing. I much doubt whether his companions in misfortune are pleased with him for showing so much disdain.

Paris, November 14, 1835.– I have just had very friendly letters from Lord and Lady Grey. They are very busy with their estate of Howick, from which they write, and seem to be quite out of politics.

Lady Grey says a thing which I echo with all my heart. "If my friends will only love me and I can possess a garden in summer and an armchair in winter I am perfectly happy in leading the life of an oyster. – Don't expose me to Madame de Lieven, she would think me unfit to live!"

Paris, November 16, 1835.– M. de Barante came to say good-bye. He leaves to-morrow for St. Petersburg with a full heart and an anxious mind. Since the famous speech60 of the Czar Nicolas at Warsaw, which Madame de Lieven herself refers to as a catastrophe, and since the commentary of the articles in the Journal des Débats on this speech, the position of the French Ambassador is a very difficult one. The line he is to take seems to me a good one and all the more prudent as it was traced for him by the King.

We dined last night at the Tuileries, where there were only the Royal Family, the ladies and gentlemen actually in attendance, and some young people, the friends of the little Princes. M. le Duc d'Aumale had just been head of his class, which put him in high spirits. He was the only member of the company who appeared to me to be so.

The King was so kind as to have a charming portrait of Mary Stuart brought for me to see. It was all the more interesting as its history is pathetic. Mary Stuart's ladies went from England to Belgium immediately after their mistress's execution, and took with them this portrait which they placed in a public building where it still is. The Queen of the Belgians had a perfect copy of it made for the King, her father, and it is this copy which I saw.

In the course of the evening the King had a long talk with M. de Talleyrand and asked him to take a journey to Vienna. This however he declined, alleging in excuse the season of the year, his age, and the presence of another Ambassador already accredited to Vienna.

Paris, November 20, 1835.– The effect of the famous speech of the Emperor Nicolas to the municipality of Warsaw has been no less disagreeable at Vienna than at Berlin. The English papers have attacked it violently. The Morning Chronicle, the organ of the Whig Cabinet, has been much more violent even than the Journal des Débats. A propos of the latter a curious thing has happened. The Government, wearied of all the indiscretions and improprieties committed by the Débats, which are becoming embarrassing owing to the semi-official colour of the paper, formed the idea of giving more importance to the Moniteur by inserting carefully-written articles, thus taking away the Ministerial importance of the Débats. This was the King's idea, and was adopted by the Cabinet. When, however, the question arose who should have the direct control of the Moniteur the Duc de Broglie claimed it as President of the Council, whereupon the King at once dropped the plan, and things are as they were before.

Letters from England report that the English Ministry is much embarrassed. Lord John Russell's timid speech at Bristol, without satisfying the Conservatives has irritated the Radicals and the Irish Catholics extremely, and the Cabinet's very existence appears to be seriously threatened though the question is adjourned until the opening of Parliament.

The more I see of Count Pahlen, the new Russian Ambassador, the more excellent I find his disposition. I know on excellent authority that he has written to his Court in clear, simple, straightforward and kindly terms about what he has lately thought and seen. He did not conceal how much his social position was suffering owing to the instructions he had received, and he added that he did not feel bound to remain in such a position, declaring finally that his Government should either modify its first instructions or recall him. This declaration was sent off yesterday. The King and Madame Adélaïde are impatiently awaiting the answer, which of course will decide what relations there will be in future between our Government and that of Russia.

Paris, November 23, 1835.– Here are the leading points of a letter which I have just received from the Duke of Wellington. "We are still on the path on which we entered five years ago. All we can hope for is that the pace will not be too fast. To stop, and, above all, to return, is impossible. Robespierre was at least honest as regards money, his power was founded on disinterestedness; but those who intend to govern us and who are going to be our rulers will not be guided by the same considerations. At least I fear not."

Paris, November 24, 1835.– I spent a curious morning yesterday of which I wish to give a detailed description, but in order to be understood I must say a few words by way of preface.

I have a cousin named Louisa de Chabannes. In her early youth she was very pretty, and sang and painted. She was well bred but poor, and got no opportunity of marrying. She became retired, unsociable, weakly, and almost ugly. I used to see her three or four times a year, and I was always struck by the weariness of her manner, by her pallor and thinness, and by her silence and nervousness. Seven years ago I heard that she had joined the Grandes Carmélites. I was not surprised, for though she had never been exactly pious, it was quite clear that she was ill at ease in the world. However, like all her relations, I was quite convinced that the austerities of this severe Order would soon destroy that fragile and ailing organism. I heard, however, at long intervals, from her brother Alfred that she was still alive, and indeed much better than she used to be.

Yesterday morning I got a letter beginning, "My dear Cousin," and ending "Sœur Thérèse de Jésus." For a moment I did not understand; then I recollected Louisa de Chabannes. In this letter she said that having at last obtained permission to see me from her Superior she begged me to come at once. Yesterday was one of the very few days on which visits are allowed, and she added that in order that I should not be terrified she had as a great favour obtained permission to see me with her face uncovered and without witnesses. I should have been very sorry to disappoint the poor woman, and as I had business with the Archbishop, who lives in the same neighbourhood, I resolved to do both on the same day.

I left at two, and drew up at the end of the Rue d'Enfer before a doorway surmounted by a cross. The doorkeeper told me that Vespers were not over, for the nuns said the Great Office every day, and that I should go into the Chapel. I did so. At the end of the choir there is a grille armed with projecting points, behind which is a great brown veil, and the voices of the Sisters come from beyond this. Besides myself there were only two old ladies in the chapel, the only ornaments of which are a kneeling statue of Cardinal Bérulle in white marble and several portraits of S. Theresa. I did not know my cousin well enough to recognise her voice, but the Office came to an end almost immediately, and I went back to the doorkeeper's room, where I found the convent doctor, who had just called.

While they were away announcing his arrival and mine he saw that I was shivering, for in this house there never is any fire except in the infirmary and in the kitchen. The doctor then spoke to me of the régime of the establishment, which he declares is not unwholesome, and to prove it said that after numerous observations he had come to the conclusion that the average age reached by women outside was thirty-seven, whereas among the Carmélites it was as much as fifty-four. He left me to go to the infirmary and soon afterwards they took me to the parlour, which also was without a fire. A little cane arm-chair, on which was spread a mat also of cane, was drawn up to an iron grille lined with a wooden casing, and behind this double barrier there was a curtain of brown wool.

After a few moments I heard a lock turned and some one came forward to the grille and said in a clear voice, "Deo gratias." I did not know what to reply and was silent, when the same voice repeated "Deo gratias." Thereupon I had to say "I have not been told what answer I should give." A little burst of laughter disconcerted me – "My dear cousin, I only wanted to be sure that it was you." The curtain was drawn and I saw before me a round fresh smiling countenance lit up by two bright blue eyes. Instead of the feeble voice I expected I heard rich, animated, and rapid accents. The thoughts which she expressed were kindly and sweet, and the assurances she gave of her happiness and contentment were corroborated by her appearance, which certainly was strikingly reassuring in a nun so strictly cloistered. She is forty-eight and does not look thirty-six. She thanked me very much for having come, and handed me a little medal with an effigy of the Blessed Virgin, begging me to make M. de Talleyrand wear it without his knowledge. "This medal," she said, "brings back to the Faith even those who have wandered furthest from it." I did not refuse to do as she wished, as to do so would have been horribly unkind. Besides, there is something catching in a faith so sincere and so vivid! I said that I would look for a favourable moment for carrying out her blessed purpose.

I left much touched, and very thoughtful after saying adieu, probably for ever, to this charming and happy woman, who sleeps on a board, never has a fire, fasts the whole year round, and would be distressed if she did not say with S. Theresa, "may I suffer or else die."

I went on the Rue Saint-Jacques to the Convent of the Dames Saint-Michel to see the Archbishop, to whom I wished to speak about a project of marriage between my second son and Mlle. de Fougères. I was conducted by one of the sisters, clad in white from head to foot, to a little separate building which looks into the immense garden of the Convent. M. de Quélen has lived here almost entirely since the destruction of his palace. His apartments are clean, pretty, and very well looked after.

I found the Archbishop well and in good spirits and very much pleased to see me. He at once began to talk to me about my children, of their future and their marriages. I did not hesitate to go into details with him on this subject. He listened kindly and said that he would always be delighted to testify the interest he took in the family of the Cardinal de Périgord, and particularly in my children. I must know that he had a special interest in me which was due to the qualities I possessed, and to the fact that he had always regarded me as the instrument which Providence would probably use to accomplish its merciful and redeeming work on M. de Talleyrand. I made him promise to pay a morning call on M. de Talleyrand from time to time, as he used to do before our departure for England. When I left he said "Treat me as you used to do, as a relative, and promise me that you will come and see me again about the New Year." I said I would, and asked if I might then present my daughter, who had been baptized and confirmed by him. "And who, I hope, will not be married by any one else," he replied, on which I took my leave.