“Covent Garden,“Sunday, Noon, December 1844.“My Dear Lady Blessington,—Business for other people (and by no means of a pleasant kind) has held me prisoner during two whole days, and will so detain me to-day, in the very agony of my departure for Italy again, that I shall not even be able to reach Gore House once more, on which I had set my heart. I cannot bear the thought of going away without some sort of reference to the happy day you gave me on Monday, and the pleasure and delight I had in your earnest greeting. I shall never forget it, believe me. It would be worth going to China—it would be worth going to America, to come home again for the pleasure of such a meeting with you and Count d’Orsay—to whom my love, and something as near it to Miss Power and her sister as it is lawful to send.…”
“Covent Garden,“Sunday, Noon, December 1844.
“My Dear Lady Blessington,—Business for other people (and by no means of a pleasant kind) has held me prisoner during two whole days, and will so detain me to-day, in the very agony of my departure for Italy again, that I shall not even be able to reach Gore House once more, on which I had set my heart. I cannot bear the thought of going away without some sort of reference to the happy day you gave me on Monday, and the pleasure and delight I had in your earnest greeting. I shall never forget it, believe me. It would be worth going to China—it would be worth going to America, to come home again for the pleasure of such a meeting with you and Count d’Orsay—to whom my love, and something as near it to Miss Power and her sister as it is lawful to send.…”
And this message in another letter to Lady Blessington, written in the following year:—
“Do not let your nieces forget me, if you can help it, and give my love to Count d’Orsay, with many thanks to him for his charming letter. I was greatly amused by his account of ⸺. There was a cold shade of aristocracy about it,and a dampness of cold water, which entertained me beyond measure.”
There were three dandies in this Gore House circle of strangely different temperaments and abilities. Dickens, a thorough Englishman in almost every habit and instinct, who dressed violently rather than well, sported somewhat fantastic costumes simply because it was the fashion so to do among the young men with whom his growing fame had brought him into contact. In the inner meaning of the word Dickens was no dandy, but simply a dressy man; his was not the dandiacal temper. Of this, indeed, there was far more in the Oriental Disraeli, though he, like hisVivian Grey, used high dressing as a pose. Whatever he undertook he loved to do well, and in his youth even to do to extremes. The effeminate dandy pose was excellently acted in the following which he tells of himself, writing from Malta to his father in 1830:—
“Affectation tells here even better than wit. Yesterday, at the racket court, sitting in the gallery among strangers, the ball entered, and lightly struck me and fell at my feet. I picked it up, and observing a young rifleman excessively stiff, I humbly requested him to forward its passage into the court, as I really had never thrown a ball in my life. This incident has been the general subject of conversation at all the messes to-day!”
And this from Gibraltar:—
“Tell my mother that as it is the fashion among the dandies of this place—that is, theofficers, for there are no others—not to wear waistcoats in the morning, her new studs come into fine play and maintain my reputation of being a great judge of costume, to the admiration and envy of many subalterns. I have also the fame of being the first who ever passed the Straits with two canes, a morning and an evening cane. I change my cane as the gun fires, and hope to carry them both on to Cairo. It is wonderful the effect these magical wands produce. I owe to them even more attention than to being the supposed author of—what is it?—I forget!”
Disraeli in his dress had a touch of the fantastic, as thus, when he appeared at a dinner party attired in a coat of black velvet lined with satin, purple trousers with a gold stripe down the seam, a scarlet waistcoat, lace ruffles down to the fingers’ tips, white gloves with rings worn outside them and his hair in long, black ringlets.
Dickens was only a clothes-deep dandy; Disraeli was a true dandy as far as he went, but he did not go all the way. He trifled with politics, he did not realise that to be a perfect, complete dandy, calls for the devotion of a lifetime. D’Orsay made no such mistake; he was a dandy through and through and all the way; a dandy in love affairs, in his toilet, in his clothes, in his sport, and in all the arts of life from cookery down to sculpture. Thus it must be with every great man; he aims at one target, pulls his bow with all his strength, and shoots only at that one mark. D’Orsay had but one aim, to lead a life of dandified pleasure.
Charles Sumner writes in March 1840: “Lady Blessington is as pleasant and time-defying as ever, surrounded till one or two of the morning with her brilliant circle.… Prince Napoleon is always there, and of course D’Orsay.”
Says Edmund Yates, writing of the great folk in Hyde Park at a later date:—
“There, in a hooded cabriolet, the fashionable vehicle for men-about-town, with an enormous champing horse, and the trimmest of tiny grooms—‘tigers,’ as they were called—half standing on the footboard behind, half swinging in the air, clinging on to the straps, would be Count d’Orsay, with clear-cut features and raven hair, the king of the dandies, the cynosure of all eyes, the greatest ‘swell’ of the day. He was an admirable whip—he is reported on one occasion, by infinite spirit and dash, to have cut the wheel off a brewer’s dray which was bearing down upon his light carriage, and to have spoken of it afterwards as ‘the triumph of mind over matter’—and always drove in faultless white kid gloves, with his shirt wristbands turned back over his coat-cuffs, and his whole ‘turn-out’ was perfection. By his side was occasionally seen Prince Louis Napoleon, an exile too, after his escape from Ham, residing in lodgings in King Street, St James’—he pointedout the house to the Empress Eugénie when, as Emperor of the French, on his visit to Queen Victoria, he drove by it. He was a constant visitor of Lady Blessington’s at Gore House. Albert Smith, in later years, used to say he wondered whether, if he called at the Tuileries, the Emperor would pay him ‘that eighteenpence,’ the sum which one night at Gore House he borrowed from A. S. to pay a cabman.”
A strange, almost uncanny personage in some ways, this Louis Napoleon, with his dogged, not to be daunted belief in his high destiny.
George Augustus Sala thus describes him:—
“A short, slight form he had, and not a very graceful way of standing. His complexion was swarthily pale, if I may be allowed to make use of that somewhat paradoxical expression. His hair struck me as being of a dark brown; it was much lighter in after years; and while his cheeks were clean-shaven, the lower part of his face was concealed by a thick moustache and an ‘imperial’ or chin-tuft. He was gorgeously arrayed in the dandy evening costume of the period … he wore a satin ‘stock,’ green, if I am not mistaken; and in the centre of that stock was a breastpin in the image of a gold eagle encircled with diamonds.”
Shee notes in May 1839, of an evening at Gore House: “Among the company last night was Prince Louis Napoleon. He was quiet, silent, and inoffensive, as, to do him justice, he generally is, but he does not impress one with the idea that he has inherited his uncle’s talents any more thanhis fortunes. He went away before the circle quite broke up, leaving, like Sir Peter Teazle, ‘his character behind him,’ and the few remaining did not spare him, but discussed him in a tone that was far from flattering. D’Orsay, however, who came in later with Lord Pembroke, stood up manfully for his friend, which was pleasant to see.”
Said D’Orsay: “C’est un brave garçon, mais pas d’esprit”; yet stood manfully by him.
There is not the slightest doubt that very intimate relations existed between D’Orsay and Louis Napoleon during his days of exile in England. Napoleon III. was the son of Louis Napoleon, King of Holland and his wife Hortense, whom Lady Blessington met in Italy. Of this meeting the following entry from Lady Blessington’s Journal, dated Rome, March 1828, is a quite interesting account:—
“Though prepared to meet in Hortense Bonaparte, ex-Queen of Holland, a woman possessed of no ordinary powers of captivation, she has, I confess, far exceeded my expectations. I have seen her frequently; and spent two hours yesterday in her society. Never did time fly with greater rapidity than while listening to her conversation, and hearing her sing those charming little Frenchromances, written and composed by herself, which, though I had always admired them, never previously struck me as being so expressive and graceful as they now prove to be. Hortense, or the Duchesse de St Leu, as she is at present styled, is of the middle stature, slight and well formed; her feet and ankles remarkablyfine; and her wholetournuregraceful, and distinguished. Her complexion and hair are fair, and her countenance is peculiarly expressive; its habitual character being mild and pensive, until animated by conversation, when it becomes arch andspirituelle. I know not that I ever encountered a person with so fine a tact, or so quick an apprehension, as the Duchesse de St Leu: these give her the power of rapidly forming an appreciation of those with whom she comes in contact; and of suiting the subjects of conversation to their tastes and comprehensions. Thus, with the grave she is serious, with the lively gay; and with the scientific, she only permits just a sufficient extent of her ownsavoirto be revealed to encourage the development of theirs. She is, in fact, ‘all things to all men,’ without at the same time losing a single portion of her own natural character; a peculiarity of which seems to be, the desire, as well as the power, of sending away all who approach her satisfied with themselves, and delighted with her. Yet there is no unworthy concession of opinions made, or tacit acquiescence yielded to conciliate popularity; she assents to, or dissents from, the sentiments of others, with a mildness and good sense that gratifies those with whom she coincides, or disarms those from whom she differs. The only flattery she condescends to practise is that most refined and delicate of all, the listening with marked attention to the observations of those with whom she converses; and this tacit symptom of respect to others is not more the result of anextreme politeness, than of a fine nature, attentive to the feelings of those around her.…
“It is not often that a woman so accomplished unites the more solid attraction of a highly-cultivated mind: yet in Hortense this is the case; for, though a perfect musician, a most successful amateur in drawing, and mistress of three languages, she is well read in history andbelles-lettres; has an elementary knowledge of the sciences, and a general acquaintance with the works of the most esteemed authors of ancient and modern times. Her remarks denote an acute perception, and a superior understanding; and are delivered with such a perfect freedom from all assumption of the self-conceit of abas-bleu, or the dictatorial style of one accustomed to command attention, that they acquire an additional charm from the modest grace with which they are uttered.…
“She showed me her diamonds yesterday, and some of them are magnificent, particularly the necklace presented to the Empress Josephine by the city of Paris. It is arivièreof large diamonds, of such immense value that none but a sovereign, or some of our own princely nobility, could become the purchaser. Her other diamonds are very fine, and consist of manyparures, some presented to her as Queen of Holland; and others bequeathed to her, with the necklace, by her mother. Her bed, furniture, and toilette service of gilt plate, are very magnificent, and are the same that served her in her days of regal state. The arrangement of her apartments indicates afaultless taste, uniting elegance and comfort with grandeur. She has some fine portraits of Napoleon and Josephine in her possession: on our contemplating them, she referred to her mother with as much sensibility as if her death had been recent.
“Prince Louis Bonaparte lives with his mother, and never did I witness a more devoted attachment than subsists between them. He is a fine, high-spirited youth, admirably well educated, and highly accomplished, uniting to the gallant bearing of a soldier all the politeness of apreux chevalier; but how could he be otherwise, brought up with such a mother? Prince Louis Bonaparte is much beloved and esteemed by all who know him, and is said to resemble his uncle, the Prince Eugène Beauharnois (sic), no less in person than in mind; possessing his generous nature, personal courage, and high sense of honour.”
It is not necessary to follow in any detail the career of Louis Napoleon, so we will skip on to the year 1840, when on 6th August he made his absurd descent upon France, landing at Boulogne with about sixty followers.
Lord Malmesbury, who was often a visitor at Gore House, mentions a curious little happening.
“7th August.—News arrived this morning of Louis Napoleon having landed yesterday morning at Boulogne with fifty followers. None of the soldiers, however, having joined him, the attempt totally failed, and he and most of those who accompanied him were taken. This explains an expression he used to me two evenings ago. He was standing on the steps of LadyBlessington’s house after a party, wrapped up in a cloak, with Persigny by him, and I observed to them: ‘You look like two conspirators,’ upon which he answered: ‘You may be nearer right than you think.’”
Disraeli writes on the same day:—
“The morning papers publish two editions, and Louis Napoleon, who last year at Bulwer’s nearly drowned us by his bad rowing, has now upset himself at Boulogne. Never was anything so rash and crude to all appearances as this ‘invasion,’ for he was joined by no one. A fine house in Carlton Gardens, his Arabian horses, and excellent cook was hardly worse than his present situation.”
He was captured, tried, condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and consigned to the fortress of Ham, where he remained for five years, and then escaped to England.
On August 2nd, 1840, Planché relates that he went between ten and eleven to Gore House, where there had been a small dinner party, of which four men had stayed on, Lord Nugent, “Poodle” Byng, and two strangers. “The youngest immediately engaged my attention. It was the fashion in that day to wear black satin kerchiefs for evening dress; and that of the gentleman in question was fastened by a large spread eagle in diamonds, clutching a thunderbolt of rubies. There was but one man in England at that period who, without the impeachment of coxcombry, could have sported so magnificent a jewel; and, though I had never to my knowledge seen him before, I felt convincedthat he could be no other than Prince Louis Napoleon. Such was the fact; and his companion was Count Montholon.” Planché walked home with Nugent and Byng, one of whom remarked: “What could Louis Napoleon mean by asking us to dine with him this day twelvemonths at the Tuileries?” The ill-starred landing at Boulogne a few days later explained the mystery.
But earlier in this same year (1840), D’Orsay had supported the Prince in another adventure.
For many years a peculiar Count Léon had been looked on as one of the curiosities of Paris; in appearance he was an enlarged replica of Napoleon the Great, which was not surprising seeing that he was reputed—probably wrongly—to be his son by the Polish Countess Walewska. Napoleon provided for the education of his offspring, who in 1830 attained the dignity of a colonelcy in the Legion of the Garde Nationale.
In February 1840, Count Léon came over to London, it being absurdly stated afterward that he had been entrusted by the Tuileries with the pleasing duty of removing Louis Napoleon.
The Prince refused to receive the Count, from whom after some heated correspondence he received a challenge, borne by Lieutenant-Colonel Ratcliffe. Léon refused to engage with swords, so pistols were decided upon; the hour chosen being seven o’clock on the morning of 3rd March, and the place Wimbledon Common. Napoleon was accompanied by D’Orsay and Colonel Parquin. It was not until the partieswere on the ground that Count Léon raised the difficulty about the weapons to be used, and the delay caused by the discussion on the point gave time to the authorities to arrive and put an end to the contemplated breach of the peace. The upshot of this fiasco was an appearance at Bow Street. Before the Court proceeded to deal with the ordinary night charges, Prince Louis and Count Léon were charged before Mr Jardine with having attempted a breach of the peace by fighting a duel; Ratcliffe, Parquin, D’Orsay, and Martial Kien, a servant, were brought in as being aiders and abettors. They were all “bound over,” Mr Joshua Bates, of Baring Brothers, becoming surety for Prince Louis and Colonel Parquin, and the Honourable Francis Baring for D’Orsay. So ended the encounter.
On January 13th, 1841, Napoleon wrote from Ham to Lady Blessington, in reply to a letter from her:—
“I am very grateful for your remembrance, and I think with grief that none of your previous letters have reached me. I have received from Gore House only one letter, from Count d’Orsay, which I hastened to answer when I was at the Conciergerie. I bitterly regret that my letter was intercepted, for in it I expressed all the gratitude at the interest he took in my misfortunes.… My thoughts often wander to the place where you live, and I recall with pleasure the time I have passed in your amiable society, which the Count d’Orsay still brightens with his frank andspirituelgaiety.”
On the 26th of May 1846, there was gatheredtogether a gay dinner-party at Gore House, among those assembled, beside the host and hostess, being Landor and John Forster. A message was brought in to D’Orsay that a person, who preferred not to give his name, desired to see him. To the amazement of D’Orsay the unknown turned out to be Louis Napoleon, just landed after his escape from Ham. He came in and entertained the party with a vivacious account of his adventures.
Serjeant Ballantine describes a curious visit paid to him at his chambers in June 1847 by Louis Napoleon and D’Orsay, which certainly strengthens the statements made by others that the dandy was upon very intimate terms with the prince. The visit was concerned with some of Napoleon’s money-raising endeavours, which had resulted in his being swindled by a rascally bill-discounter, but in which the Serjeant could not assist to right the wrong. Ballantine dubs D’Orsay, “the prince of dandies,” adding that he “never saw a man who in personal qualities surpassed him”; continuing, he “was courteous to everyone, and kindly. He put the companions of his own sex perfectly at their ease, and delighted them with his varied conversation, and I never saw anyone whose manner to ladies was more pleasing and deferential.”
Louis Philippe toppled over; a Republic was set up in February 1848, and Napoleon promptly and effectively took advantage of the situation thus created to push himself to the front. In December of the same year he waselected President. The oath that he swore on the occasion was: “In the presence of God and before the French people represented by the National Assembly, I swear to remain faithful to the Democratic Republic, one and indivisible, and to fulfil all the duties imposed on me by the Constitution.” And on the 2nd of December 1851, he dissolved the said Assembly, upset the Republic, and shortly became Napoleon III, Emperor of the French.
Among Napoleon’s English advisers was Albany Fonblanque, who through D’Orsay sent him some suggestions as to the policy it would be wise for the President of the French Republic to pursue. How far that advice promised to produce fruit, the following letter shows:—
“Gore House,26th January 1849.“Mon Cher Fonblanque,—J’espère que vous avez vu que notre conseil à été écouté; les réductions dans l’armée et la marine sont très fortes, et Napoleon à éprouvé, je vous assure, une grande opposition pour en arriver là. L’armée, qui était en 1845 de 502,196 hommes et de 100, 432 horses, sera réduite en 1849 à 380,824 hommes et 92,410 chevaux. Le Budget de la Marine est diminué de vingt deux millions et plus; la flotte en activité est réduite à dix vaisseaux de ligne, huit frégates, etc.—et il y a aussi une grande réduction dans les travaux des arsenaux. Tout cela devrait plaire à John Bull et à Cobden. Je vous promets que ces réductions n’en resteront pas là; mais il faut considérer la difficulté qu’il y a de toucher aux joujoux desenfants français, car chez nous l’armée est l’objet principal; chez vous ce n’est qu’un accessoire. Votre affectionné,“D’Orsay.”
“Gore House,26th January 1849.
“Mon Cher Fonblanque,—J’espère que vous avez vu que notre conseil à été écouté; les réductions dans l’armée et la marine sont très fortes, et Napoleon à éprouvé, je vous assure, une grande opposition pour en arriver là. L’armée, qui était en 1845 de 502,196 hommes et de 100, 432 horses, sera réduite en 1849 à 380,824 hommes et 92,410 chevaux. Le Budget de la Marine est diminué de vingt deux millions et plus; la flotte en activité est réduite à dix vaisseaux de ligne, huit frégates, etc.—et il y a aussi une grande réduction dans les travaux des arsenaux. Tout cela devrait plaire à John Bull et à Cobden. Je vous promets que ces réductions n’en resteront pas là; mais il faut considérer la difficulté qu’il y a de toucher aux joujoux desenfants français, car chez nous l’armée est l’objet principal; chez vous ce n’est qu’un accessoire. Votre affectionné,
“D’Orsay.”
Madden, in his description of this “man-mystery,” for once in a way is graphic. “I watched his pale, corpse-like, imperturbable features, not many months since, for a period of three hours. I saw eighty thousand men in arms pass before him, and I never observed a change in his countenance or an expression in his look which would enable the bystander to say whether he was pleased or otherwise at the stirring scene.… He did not speak to those around him, except at very long intervals, and then with an air ofnonchalance, ofennuiand eternal occupation with self; he rarely spoke a syllable to his uncle, Jérôme Bonaparte, who was on horseback somewhat behind him.… He gave me the idea of a man who had a perfect reliance on himself, and a feeling of complete control over those around him. But there was a weary look about him, an aspect of excessive watchfulness, an appearance of want of sleep, of over-work, of over-indulgence, too, that gives an air of exhaustion to face and form, and leaves an impression on the mind of a close observer that the machine of the body will break down soon, and suddenly—or the mind will give way—under the pressure of pent-up thoughts and energies eternally in action, and never suffered to be observed or noticed by friends or followers.”
Napoleon III(By D’Orsay)[TO FACE PAGE 206
Napoleon III
(By D’Orsay)
[TO FACE PAGE 206
Louis Napoleon is, as everybody knows, theColonel Albert who plays so large a part in Lord Beaconsfield’s unjustly neglectedEndymion, quite one of the most delightful of his novels, although it contains that strange caricature of Thackeray in the grotesque personage of St Barbe.
Says “Colonel Albert”:—“… I am the child of destiny. That destiny will again place me on the throne of my fathers. That is as certain as I am now speaking to you. But destiny for its fulfilment ordains action. Its decrees are inexorable, but they are obscure, and the being whose career it directs is as a man travelling in a dark night; he reaches his goal even without the aid of stars and moon.”
Louis Napoleon emerged from the dark night of his exile and sat in the limelight that beats upon a throne, and he achieved his destiny without accepting the aid or advice of his friend, D’Orsay. He did not trust the latter with his counsels and could scarcely have been expected to ask him to accompany him to France. D’Orsay would have been the central figure; the Prince of the Dandies would have basked in the popularity which the future Emperor of the French knew he must focus upon himself.
After his escape to London from Ham, Louis Napoleon, however, does seem to have consulted with D’Orsay, and acting upon his advice to have written to the French Ambassador to the Court of St James, stating that it was his intention to settle down quietly as a private individual; which statement was doubtless taken for what it was worth. D’Orsay may have helped, also, toward Napoleon’s election as President by interestingfriends in his cause, but of the schemes upon the empty imperial throne D’Orsay appears to have been ignorant. Indeed, he went so far as to express his opinion of thecoup d’état, that “it is the greatest political swindle that ever has been practised in the world!”
The following letter to Landor from Lady Blessington is interesting:—
“Gore House,28th February 1848.“I will not admit that the eruption of the Parisian volcano has brought out only cinders from your brain,au contraire, the lava is glowing and full of fire—your honest indignation has been ignited and has sent forth a bright flame.“It gave me great pleasure to see your handwriting again, for I had thought it long since I had heard from you. I saw it stated to-day in theDaily Newsthat Count d’Orsay had set out for Paris with Prince Louis. This report is wholly untrue. Prince Louis has gone to Paris alone. Here no one pities Louis Philippe, nor has the report of his death mitigated the indignation excited against him. His family are to be pitied, for I believe they were not implicated in his crooked policy. Seldom has vengeance so rapidly overtaken guilt.”
“Gore House,28th February 1848.
“I will not admit that the eruption of the Parisian volcano has brought out only cinders from your brain,au contraire, the lava is glowing and full of fire—your honest indignation has been ignited and has sent forth a bright flame.
“It gave me great pleasure to see your handwriting again, for I had thought it long since I had heard from you. I saw it stated to-day in theDaily Newsthat Count d’Orsay had set out for Paris with Prince Louis. This report is wholly untrue. Prince Louis has gone to Paris alone. Here no one pities Louis Philippe, nor has the report of his death mitigated the indignation excited against him. His family are to be pitied, for I believe they were not implicated in his crooked policy. Seldom has vengeance so rapidly overtaken guilt.”
Still more interesting this from Landor to Lady Blessington, written about a year later, on 9th January 1849—
“Possibly you may never have seen the two articles I enclose. I inserted in theExamineranother, deprecating the anxieties which a truly patriotic and, in my opinion, a singularly wise man, was about to encounter, in accepting thePresidency of France. Necessity will compel him to assume the Imperial Power, to which the voice of the army and people will call him.“You know (who know not only my writings, but my heart) how little I care for station. I may therefore tell you safely, that I feel a great interest, a great anxiety, for the welfare of Louis Napoleon. I told him if ever he were again in prison, I would visit him there; but never, if he were upon a throne, would I come near him. He is the only man living who would adorn one, but thrones are my aversion and abhorrence. France, I fear, can exist in no other condition. Her public men are greatly more able than ours, but they have less integrity. Every Frenchman is by nature an intriguer. It was not always so, to the same extent; but nature is modified, and even changed, by circumstances. Even garden statues take their form from clay.“God protect the virtuous Louis Napoleon, and prolong in happiness the days of my dear, kind friend, Lady Blessington.“W. S. L.”“I wrote a short letter to the President, and not of congratulation. May he find many friends as disinterested and sincere.”
“Possibly you may never have seen the two articles I enclose. I inserted in theExamineranother, deprecating the anxieties which a truly patriotic and, in my opinion, a singularly wise man, was about to encounter, in accepting thePresidency of France. Necessity will compel him to assume the Imperial Power, to which the voice of the army and people will call him.
“You know (who know not only my writings, but my heart) how little I care for station. I may therefore tell you safely, that I feel a great interest, a great anxiety, for the welfare of Louis Napoleon. I told him if ever he were again in prison, I would visit him there; but never, if he were upon a throne, would I come near him. He is the only man living who would adorn one, but thrones are my aversion and abhorrence. France, I fear, can exist in no other condition. Her public men are greatly more able than ours, but they have less integrity. Every Frenchman is by nature an intriguer. It was not always so, to the same extent; but nature is modified, and even changed, by circumstances. Even garden statues take their form from clay.
“God protect the virtuous Louis Napoleon, and prolong in happiness the days of my dear, kind friend, Lady Blessington.
“W. S. L.”
“I wrote a short letter to the President, and not of congratulation. May he find many friends as disinterested and sincere.”
Wellington also judged Napoleon’s rise to power in France as propitious, and wrote to D’Orsay on 9th April 1849:—“Je me réjouis de la prospérité de la France et du succès de M. le Président de la République. Tout tend vers la permanence de la paix de l’Europe qui est nécessaire pour le bonheur de chacun. Votre ami très devoué.
“Wellington.”
Though D’Orsay was not Napoleon’s active ally, he watched his progress with interest, and, despite the opinion he held of the means employed, apparently with approbation also up to a point. To Madden on the first day of the Presidential election, a Sunday—but really we must here have Madden’s own words:—“He came to my house before church-time, and diverted me from graver duties, to listen to his confident anticipations of the result of that memorable day. ‘Think,’ said he, ‘what is the ordinary November weather in Paris: and here is a beautiful day. I have watched the mercury in my garden. I have seen where is the wind, and I tell you, that on Paris is what they will call the sun of Austerlitz. To-morrow you shall hear that, while we are now talking, they vote for him with almost one mind, and that he has the absolute majority.’”
And later, he wrote to Richard Lane, the artist: “Rely upon it, he will do more for France than any sovereign has done for the last two centuries, if only they give him time.”
Even previous to this exciting period, at the time of the Boulogne descent, Lady Blessington was shedding ink in the defence of D’Orsay; writing to Henry Bulwer:—
“Gore House,17th September 1840.“I am never surprised at evil reports, however unfounded, still less so at any acts of friendship and manliness on your part.… Alfred is at Doncaster, but he charges me to authorise you to contradict, in the most positive terms, the reports about his having participated in, or evenknown, of the intentions of the Prince Louis. Indeed, had he suspected them, he would have used every effort in his power to dissuade him from putting them into execution. Alfred, as well as I, entertain the sincerest regard for the Prince, with whom, for fourteen years, we have been on terms of intimacy; but of his plans we knew no more than you did. Alfred by no means wishes to conceal his attachment to the Prince, and still less that any exculpation of himself should in any way reflect on him; but who so well as you, whose tact and delicacy are equal to your good-nature, can fulfil the service to Alfred that we require?“Lady C⸺[15]writes to me thatI, too, am mixed up in the reports. But I defy the malice of my greatest enemy to prove that I ever dreamt of the Prince’s intentions or plans.”
“Gore House,17th September 1840.
“I am never surprised at evil reports, however unfounded, still less so at any acts of friendship and manliness on your part.… Alfred is at Doncaster, but he charges me to authorise you to contradict, in the most positive terms, the reports about his having participated in, or evenknown, of the intentions of the Prince Louis. Indeed, had he suspected them, he would have used every effort in his power to dissuade him from putting them into execution. Alfred, as well as I, entertain the sincerest regard for the Prince, with whom, for fourteen years, we have been on terms of intimacy; but of his plans we knew no more than you did. Alfred by no means wishes to conceal his attachment to the Prince, and still less that any exculpation of himself should in any way reflect on him; but who so well as you, whose tact and delicacy are equal to your good-nature, can fulfil the service to Alfred that we require?
“Lady C⸺[15]writes to me thatI, too, am mixed up in the reports. But I defy the malice of my greatest enemy to prove that I ever dreamt of the Prince’s intentions or plans.”
Both D’Orsay and Lady Blessington had to do with Napoleon as Emperor.
D’Orsay, to a certain extent, tried to run both with the fox and with the hounds, for, in 1841, an attempt was made to procure for him the appointment of Secretary to the French Embassy in London. The Count St Aulaire was then Ambassador, and much influence was brought to bear upon him in this matter.
Among Lady Blessington’s papers was found the following memorandum by her, which throws considerable light upon this affair:—
“With regard to the intentions relative to our Count, there is not even a shadow of truth inthem. Alfred never was presented here at Court, and never would, though I, as well as his other friends, urged it: his motive (for declining) being, never having left his name at any of the French Ambassadors of Louis Philippe (not even at Count Sebastiani’s, a connection of his own) or at Marshal Soult’s, also nearly connected with his family, he could not ask to be presented at Court by the French Ambassador, and did not think it right to be presented by anyone else … and the etiquette of not having been engaged to meet the Queen, unless previously presented at Court, is too well known to admit of any mistake.… I enter into these details merely to show the utter falsehoods which have been listened to against Alfred. Now with regard to his creditors, his embarrassments have been greatly exaggerated; and when the sale of the northern estates in Ireland shall have been effected, which must be within a year, he will be released from all his difficulties.[16]In the meantime he has arranged matters, by getting time from his creditors. So that all the fuss made by the nomination, being only sought as a protection from them, falls to the ground.… I mention all these facts to show how ill Alfred has been treated. If the appointment in London is still deemed impracticable, why should not they offer him the secretaryship at Madrid, which is vacant?“Alfred entrusted the affair (of the appointment) to M⸺ and W⸺. He received positiveassurances from both that he would receive an appointment in the French Embassy here, and that it was only necessary, as a mere matter of etiquette, that St Aulaire was to ask for his nomination to have it granted. The assurances were so positive that he could not doubt them, and he accordingly acted on them. The highest eulogies on Alfred’s abilities and power of rendering service to the French Government were voluntarily pronounced to St Aulaire by Lord B⸺, the Duke of B⸺, and other persons of distinction. M. St Aulaire, not satisfied with these honourable testimonies, consulted acoterieof foolish women, and listening to their malicious gossiping, he concluded that the nomination would not be popular in London, and so was afraid to ask for it.“It now appears that the Foreign Office at Paris is an inquisition into the private affairs of those who have the misfortune to have any reference to it; a bad plan when clever men are so scarce in France, and particularly those well-born and well-connected: a Government like the present should be glad to catch any such that could be had.“Margt. Blessington.”
“With regard to the intentions relative to our Count, there is not even a shadow of truth inthem. Alfred never was presented here at Court, and never would, though I, as well as his other friends, urged it: his motive (for declining) being, never having left his name at any of the French Ambassadors of Louis Philippe (not even at Count Sebastiani’s, a connection of his own) or at Marshal Soult’s, also nearly connected with his family, he could not ask to be presented at Court by the French Ambassador, and did not think it right to be presented by anyone else … and the etiquette of not having been engaged to meet the Queen, unless previously presented at Court, is too well known to admit of any mistake.… I enter into these details merely to show the utter falsehoods which have been listened to against Alfred. Now with regard to his creditors, his embarrassments have been greatly exaggerated; and when the sale of the northern estates in Ireland shall have been effected, which must be within a year, he will be released from all his difficulties.[16]In the meantime he has arranged matters, by getting time from his creditors. So that all the fuss made by the nomination, being only sought as a protection from them, falls to the ground.… I mention all these facts to show how ill Alfred has been treated. If the appointment in London is still deemed impracticable, why should not they offer him the secretaryship at Madrid, which is vacant?
“Alfred entrusted the affair (of the appointment) to M⸺ and W⸺. He received positiveassurances from both that he would receive an appointment in the French Embassy here, and that it was only necessary, as a mere matter of etiquette, that St Aulaire was to ask for his nomination to have it granted. The assurances were so positive that he could not doubt them, and he accordingly acted on them. The highest eulogies on Alfred’s abilities and power of rendering service to the French Government were voluntarily pronounced to St Aulaire by Lord B⸺, the Duke of B⸺, and other persons of distinction. M. St Aulaire, not satisfied with these honourable testimonies, consulted acoterieof foolish women, and listening to their malicious gossiping, he concluded that the nomination would not be popular in London, and so was afraid to ask for it.
“It now appears that the Foreign Office at Paris is an inquisition into the private affairs of those who have the misfortune to have any reference to it; a bad plan when clever men are so scarce in France, and particularly those well-born and well-connected: a Government like the present should be glad to catch any such that could be had.
“Margt. Blessington.”
To which may be added a letter from Henry Bulwer to Lady Blessington, written in December 1841:—
“My Dear Lady Blessington,—I think D’Orsay wrong in these things you refer to: to have asked for London especially, and not to have informed me[17]how near the affair was to itsmaturity when St Aulaire went to the D. of B⸺’s, because I might then have prepared opinion for it here; whereas, I first heard the affair mentioned in a room, where I had to contend against every person present, when I stated what I think—that the appointment would have been a very good one. But it does not now signify talking about the matter, and saying that I should have wished our friend to have given the matter rather an air of doing a favour than of asking one. It is right to say that he has acted most honourably, delicately, and in a way which ought to have served him, though, perhaps, it is not likely to do so. The French Ambassador did not, I think, wish for the nomination. M. Guizot, I imagine, is, at this moment, afraid of anything that might excite discussion and opposition, and it is idle to disguise from you that D’Orsay, both in England and here, has many enemies. The best service I can do him is by continuing to speak of him as I have done amongst influential persons, viz., as a man whom the Government would do well to employ; and my opinion is, that if he continues to wish for and to seek employment, he will obtain it in the end. But I don’t think he will obtain the situation he wished for in London, and I think it may be some little time before he gets such a one as he ought to have, and that would suit him. The Secretaryship in Spain would be an excellent thing, and I would aid the Marshal in anything he might do or say respecting it. I shall be rather surprised, however, if the present man is recalled. Welldo not let D’Orsay lose courage. Nobody succeeds in these things just at the moment he desires: ⸺, with his position here” (speaking of a French nobleman), “has been ten years getting made an ambassador, and at last is so by a fortunate chance. Remember also how long it was, though I was in Parliament, and had some little interest, before I was myself fairly launched in thediplomatic career. Alfred has all the qualities for success in anything, but he must give the same trouble and pains to the pursuit he now engages in that he has given to other pursuits previously. At all events, though I speak frankly and merely what I think to him, I am here and always a sincere and affectionate friend, and most desirous to prove myself so.”
“My Dear Lady Blessington,—I think D’Orsay wrong in these things you refer to: to have asked for London especially, and not to have informed me[17]how near the affair was to itsmaturity when St Aulaire went to the D. of B⸺’s, because I might then have prepared opinion for it here; whereas, I first heard the affair mentioned in a room, where I had to contend against every person present, when I stated what I think—that the appointment would have been a very good one. But it does not now signify talking about the matter, and saying that I should have wished our friend to have given the matter rather an air of doing a favour than of asking one. It is right to say that he has acted most honourably, delicately, and in a way which ought to have served him, though, perhaps, it is not likely to do so. The French Ambassador did not, I think, wish for the nomination. M. Guizot, I imagine, is, at this moment, afraid of anything that might excite discussion and opposition, and it is idle to disguise from you that D’Orsay, both in England and here, has many enemies. The best service I can do him is by continuing to speak of him as I have done amongst influential persons, viz., as a man whom the Government would do well to employ; and my opinion is, that if he continues to wish for and to seek employment, he will obtain it in the end. But I don’t think he will obtain the situation he wished for in London, and I think it may be some little time before he gets such a one as he ought to have, and that would suit him. The Secretaryship in Spain would be an excellent thing, and I would aid the Marshal in anything he might do or say respecting it. I shall be rather surprised, however, if the present man is recalled. Welldo not let D’Orsay lose courage. Nobody succeeds in these things just at the moment he desires: ⸺, with his position here” (speaking of a French nobleman), “has been ten years getting made an ambassador, and at last is so by a fortunate chance. Remember also how long it was, though I was in Parliament, and had some little interest, before I was myself fairly launched in thediplomatic career. Alfred has all the qualities for success in anything, but he must give the same trouble and pains to the pursuit he now engages in that he has given to other pursuits previously. At all events, though I speak frankly and merely what I think to him, I am here and always a sincere and affectionate friend, and most desirous to prove myself so.”
To Madden, Henry Bulwer expressed the opinion:—“It was altogether a great pity D’Orsay was not employed, for he was not only fit to be so, but to make a most useful and efficient agent, had he been appointed.”
But Governments, as well as individuals, are fallible, and often blind to their best interests. Yet it really is difficult to understand why D’Orsay was refused his modest request; what more distinguished ornament to an Embassy could be desired than a splendid libertine and a man distinguished for the vastness of his debts? Unfortunately, mediocrity succeeds often enough when transcendent genius fails.
Walter Savage Landor, who was born in 1775, lived on hale and hearty till 1864. As he himself wrote:—
“I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;It sinks, and I am ready to depart.”
“I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;It sinks, and I am ready to depart.”
“I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;It sinks, and I am ready to depart.”
“I warm’d both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.”
He was, as we have seen, the very good friend of both D’Orsay and Lady Blessington, whom he first met when he was living in Italy.
In a letter to Lady Blessington, in 1837, Landor presented her with his autobiography in brief:—
“Walter Landor, of Ipsley Court, in the county of Warwick, married first, Maria, only daughter and heiress of J. Wright, Esq., by whom he had an only daughter, married to her cousin, Humphrey Arden, Esq., of Longcroft, in Staffordshire; secondly, Elizabeth, eldest daughter and co-heiress of Charles Savage, of Tachebrooke, who brought about eighty thousand pounds into the family. The eldest son of this marriage, Walter Savage Landor, was born 30th January 1775. He was educated at Rugby—his private tutor was Dr Heath, of St Paul’s. When he had reached the head of the school, he was too young for college, and was placed under the private tuition of Mr Langley of Ashbourne. After a year, he was entered at Trinity College,Oxford, where the learned Beonwell was his private tutor. At the peace of Amiens, he went to France, but returned at the end of the year.
“In 1808, on the first insurrection of Spain, in June he joined the Viceroy of Gallicia, Blake. TheMadrid Gazetteof August mentions a gift from him of twenty thousand reals. On the extinction of the Constitution, he returned to Don P. Cavallos the tokens of royal approbation, in no very measured terms. In 1811, he married Julia, daughter of J. Thuillier de Malaperte, descendant and representative of J. Thuillier de Malaperte, Baron de Nieuveville, first gentleman of the bedchamber to Charles the Eighth. He was residing at Tours, when, after the battle of Waterloo, many other Englishmen, to the number of four thousand, went away. He wrote to Carnot that he had no confidence in the moderation or honour of the Emperor, but resolved to stay, because he considered the danger to be greater in the midst of a broken army. A week afterwards, when this wretch occupied Tours, his house was the only one without a billet. In the autumn of that year, he retired to Italy. For seven or eight years, he occupied the Palazzo Medici, in Florence, and then bought the celebrated villa of Count Gherardesea, at Fiesole, with its gardens, and two farms, immediately under the ancient villa of Lorenzo de Medici. His visits to England have been few and short.”
This is but the bare bones of a very interesting life; but its very bluntness seems to illustrate the character of its writer, a member of thegenus irritabile, whom many hated, manyloved and most men admired. For several years he made his home at Bath, living there from 1838 to 1858, when again he retired to Italy, where he died at Florence.
He is, perhaps, best known to the world at large under the slight disguise of Lawrence Boythorn inBleak House.
Charles Sumner describes him thus in 1838:—“Dressed in a heavy frock-coat of snuff colour, trousers of the same colour, and boots … with an open countenance, firm and decided, and a head grey and inclining to baldness … conversation … not varied, but it was animated and energetic in the extreme. We crossed each other several times; he called Napoleon the weakest, littlest man in history.”
Forster’s account is more vivid:—
“He was not above the middle stature, but had a short stalwart presence, walked without a stoop, and in his general aspect, particularly the set and carriage of his head, was decidedly of what is called a distinguished bearing. His hair was already silvered grey, and had retired far upward from his forehead, which wide and full but retreating, could never in the earlier time have been seen to such advantage. What at first was noticeable, however, in the broad white massive head, were the full yet strangely-lifted eyebrows. In the large, grey eyes there was a depth of compound expression that ever startled by its contrast to the eager restlessness looking out from the surface of them; and in the same variety and quickness of transition the mouth was extremely striking. The lips, that seemed compressedwith unalterable will would in a moment relax to a softness more than feminine; and a sweeter smile it was impossible to conceive.”
Carlyle says that “he was really stirring company; a proud, irascible, trenchant, yet generous, veracious and very dignified old man; quite a ducal or royal man in the temper of him.”
He was very frequently at Gore House, and they must have made a curious trio, the fascinating Lady Blessington, the ducal Landor and dandy D’Orsay.
He addressed these lines to her:—
“What language, let me think, is meetFor you, well called the Marguerite.The Tuscan has too weak a tone,Too rough and rigid is our own;The Latin—no—it will not do,The Attic is alone for you.”
“What language, let me think, is meetFor you, well called the Marguerite.The Tuscan has too weak a tone,Too rough and rigid is our own;The Latin—no—it will not do,The Attic is alone for you.”
“What language, let me think, is meetFor you, well called the Marguerite.The Tuscan has too weak a tone,Too rough and rigid is our own;The Latin—no—it will not do,The Attic is alone for you.”
“What language, let me think, is meet
For you, well called the Marguerite.
The Tuscan has too weak a tone,
Too rough and rigid is our own;
The Latin—no—it will not do,
The Attic is alone for you.”
Of some of his many visits here are a few notes:—
Writing Friday, 7th May 1841:—
“I did not leave my cab at Gore House gate until a quarter past six. My kind hostess and D’Orsay were walking in the garden and never was more cordial reception. After dinner we went to the English opera,The Siege of RochelleandA Day at Turin. Nothing could be worse than the first except the second. The Hanoverian minister, very attentive to Miss Power, a Carlist viscount, and Lord Pembroke were the only persons who stayed any time in the box,” and on 8th May he writes again from Gore House: “We went this evening to the German Opera. Never was music so excellent. The pieces wereA Night in GrenadaandFidelio. Madame Schodelsings divinely, and her acting is only inferior to Pasta’s.… Both D’Orsay and Lord Pembroke were enchanted with Madame Schodel, and Lady B. and Miss Power, both good judges, and the latter a fine composer, were breathless. To-night we go to the Italian Opera.”
Landor writing from Gore House in June 1842:
“We have not been to the Opera this evening, as Lord Pembroke and the Duc de Guiche came to dinner. He is on a visit to Lord Tankerville, but has the good taste to prefer the society he finds here, particularly D’Orsay’s. D’Orsay was never in higher spirits or finer plumage.”
On July 20th he writes:—
“A few days after my arrival in town, the Duc de Grammont dined at Gore House. He is on a visit to Lord Tankerville.… D’Orsay has just finished an exquisite painting of the Duchesse.”
Then on September 7th:—
“I arrived at Gore House early on Monday. In the morning, beside Lord Allen and some other people, there called Lord Auckland.… At dinner the Duc de Guiche, Sir Francis Burdett and Sir Willoughby Cotton.… Those were bright hours; even my presence could not interrupt their brilliancy.… The Duc de Guiche left us this morning to shoot with his cousin, Lord Ossulton.[18]We miss the liveliness of his conversation—he talked Memoirs.”
When he was not at Gore House he kept up a very lively correspondence with his two friends, some of which it will be useful to quote, for in familiar letters we become almost on speakingterms with their writers, and who of us would not be glad to chat with Lady Blessington, Landor and D’Orsay?
This from her to him, when sending him her portrait:—