Part 11

Yesterday we had an agreeable dinner at our own house. Macaulay, Milman, Lord Morpeth and Monckton Milnes were all most charming, and we ladies listened with eager ears. Conversation was never more interesting than just now, in this great crisis of the world’s affairs. Mr. Emerson was here and seemed to enjoy much.

Friday, March 17th.

Things look rather darker in France, but we ought not to expect a republic to be established without some difficulties. . . . You cannot judge of the state of France, however, through the medium of the English newspapers, for, of course, English sympathies are all entirely against it. They never like France, and a republic of any kind still less. A peaceful and prosperous republic in the heart of Europe would be more deprecated than a state of anarchy. The discussion of French matters reveals to me every moment the deep repugnance of the English to republican institutions. It lets in a world of light upon opinions and feelings, which, otherwise, would not have been discovered by me.

Sunday, March 19th.

Yesterday we breakfasted at Mrs. Milman’s. I was the only lady, but there were Macaulay, Hallam, Lord Morpeth, and, above all, Charles Austin, whom I had not seen before, as he never dines out, but who is the most striking talker in England. He has made a fortune by the law in the last few years, which gives him an income of £8,000. He has the great railroad cases which come before the House of Lords. . . . On Tuesday came a flying report of a revolution in Berlin, but no one believed it. We concluded it rather a speculation of the newsmen, who are hawking revolutions after every mail in second and third editions. We were going that evening to a soirée at Bunsen’s, whom we found cheerful as ever and fearing no evil. On Monday the news of the revolution in Austria produced a greater sensation even than France, for it was the very pivot of conservatism. . . . On Thursday I received the letter from A. at eight A.M., which I enclose to you. It gives an account of the revolution in Berlin.

To T. D.

March 31.

The old world is undergoing a complete reorganization, and is unfolding a rapid series of events more astonishing than anything in history. Where it will stop, and what will be its results, nobody can tell. Royalty has certainly not added to its respectability by its conduct in its time of trial. Since the last steamer went, Italy has shaken off the Austrian yoke, Denmark has lost her German provinces, Poland has risen, or is about to rise, which will bring Russia thundering down upon Liberal Europe. . . . Our whole Diplomatic Corps are certainly “in a fix,” and we are really the only members of it who have any reason to be quite at ease. Two or three have been called home to be Ministers of Foreign Affairs, as they have learned something of constitutional liberty in England. England is, as yet, all quiet, and I hope will keep so, but the Chartists are at work and Ireland is full of inflammable matter. But England does love her institutions, and is justly proud of their comparative freedom, and long may she enjoy them. . . . On Sunday Mr. Emerson dined with us with Lady Morgan and Mrs. Jameson—the authoress. On Monday I took him to a little party at Lady Morgan’s. His works are a good deal known here. I have great pleasure in seeing so old a friend so far from home. . . . I think we shall have very few of our countrymen out this spring, as travelling Europe is so uncertain, with everything in commotion. Those who are passing the winter in Italy are quite shut in at present, and if war begins, no one knows where it will spread.

To W. D. B.

LONDON, April 7, 1848.

. . . On Wednesday we had an agreeable dinner at Mrs. Milner Gibson’s. Mr. and Mrs. Disraeli, Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan (brother of Mrs. Norton), etc., were among the guests. After dinner I had a very long talk with Disraeli. He is, you know, of the ultra Tory party here, and looks at the Continental movements from the darkest point of view. He cannot admit as a possibility the renovation of European society upon more liberal principles, and considers it as the complete dissolution of European civilization which will, like Asia, soon present but the ashes of a burnt-out flame. This is most atheistic, godless, and un-christian doctrine, and he cannot himself believe it. The art of printing and the rapid dissemination of thought changes all these things in our days.

To I. P. D.

April 10.

This is the day of the “Great Chartist Meeting,” which has terrified all London to the last degree, I think most needlessly. The city and town is at this moment stiller than I have ever known it, for not a carriage dares to be out. Nothing is to be seen but a “special constable” (every gentleman in London is sworn into that office), occasionally some on foot, some on horseback, scouring the streets. I took a drive early this morning with Mr. Bancroft, and nothing could be less like the eve of a revolution. This evening, when the petition is to be presented, may bring some disturbance, not from the Chartists themselves, but from the disorderly persons who may avail themselves of the occasion. The Queen left town on Saturday for the Isle of Wight, as she had so lately been confined it was feared her health might suffer from any agitation. . . . I passed a long train of artillery on Saturday evening coming into town, which was the most earnest looking thing I have seen. . . . To-day we were to have dined at Mrs. Mansfield’s, but her dinner was postponed from the great alarm about the Chartists. There is not the slightest danger of a revolution in England. The upper middle-class, which on the continent is entirely with the people, the professional and mercantile class, is here entirely conservative, and without that class no great changes can ever be made. The Duc de Montebello said of France, that he “knew there were lava streams below, but he did not know the crust was so thin.” Here, on the contrary, the crust is very thick. And yet I can see in the most conservative circles that a feeling is gaining ground that some concessions must be made. An enlargement of the suffrage one hears now often discussed as, perhaps, an approaching necessity.

Friday, April 14.

The day of the Chartists passed off with most ridiculous quiet, and the government is stronger than ever. . . . If the Alien Bill passes, our American friends must mind their p’s and q’s, for if they praise the “model republic” too loudly, they may be packed off at any time, particularly if they have “long beards,” for it seems to be an axiom here that beards, mustaches, and barricades are cousins-german at least. . . . Mr. Bancroft goes to Paris on Monday, the 17th, to pass the Easter holidays. He will go on with his manuscripts, and at the same time witness the elections and meeting of the Convention.

To W. D. B.

LONDON, April 19, 1848.

DEAR W.: . . . To-day I have driven down to Richmond to lunch with Mrs. Drummond, who is passing Easter holidays there. On coming home I found a letter from Mr. Bancroft from which I will make some extracts, as he has the best sources of knowledge in Paris. “Then I went to Mignet, who, you know, is politically the friend of Thiers. He pointed out to me the condition of France, and drew for me a picture of what it was and of the change. I begin to see the difference between France and us. Here they are accustomed to be governed. We are accustomed to govern. Here power may be seized and exercised, if exercised in a satisfactory manner; with us the foundation of power, its constitutionality and the legality of its acts are canvassed and analyzed. Here an unpopularity is made away with by a revolution, and you know how we deal with it. Thus, power, if in favor, may dare anything, and if out of favor is little likely to be forgiven.” . . . “Our fathers had to unite the thirteen States; here they have unity enough and run no risk but from the excess of it. My hopes are not less than they were, but all that France needs may not come at once. We were fourteen years in changing our confederation into a union, perhaps France cannot be expected to jump at once into perfect legislation or perfect forms. Crude ideas are afloat, but as to Communism, it is already exploded, or will be brushed away from legislative power as soon as the National Assembly meets, though the question of ameliorating the condition of the laboring class is more and more engaging the public mind.” . . . “I spent an hour with Cousin, the Minister of a morning. He gave me sketches of many of the leading men of these times, and I made him detail to me he scene of Louis Philippe’s abdication, which took place in a manner quite different from what I had heard in London.” . . . “Cousin, by the way, says that the Duc de Nemours throughout, behaved exceedingly well. Thence to the Club de la Nouvelle Republique. Did not think much of the speaking which I heard. From the club I went to Thiers, where I found Cousin and Mignet and one or two more. Some change since I met him. A leader of opposition, then a prime minister, and now left aground by the shifting tide.” . . . “Everybody has given up Louis Philippe, everybody considers the nonsense of Louis Blanc as drawing to its close. The delegates from Paris will full half be universally acceptable. Three-fourths of the provincial delegates will be moderate republicans. The people are not in a passion. They go quietly enough about their business of constructing new institutions. Ledru-Rollin, Louis Blanc, and Flocon tried to lead the way to ill, but Lamartine, whose heroism passes belief and activity passes human power, won the victory over them, found himself on Sunday, and again yesterday, sustained by all Paris, and has not only conquered but conciliated them, and everybody is now firmly of opinion that the Republic will be established quietly.” . . . “But while there are no difficulties from the disorderly but what can easily be overcome, the want of republican and political experience, combined with vanity and self-reliance and idealism, may throw impediments in the way of what the wisest wish, viz., two elected chambers and a president.”

To W. D. B.

LONDON, May 5, 1848.

MY DEAR W.: . . . Last evening, Thursday, we went to see Jenny Lind, on her first appearance this year. She was received with enthusiasm, and the Queen still more so. It was the first time the Queen had been at the opera since the birth of her child, and since the republican spirit was abroad, and loyalty burst out in full force. Now loyalty is very novel, and pleasant to witness, to us who have never known it.

LONDON, May 31, 1848.

. . . Now for my journal, which has gone lamely on since the 24th of February. The Queen’s Ball was to take place the evening on which I closed my last letter. My dress was a white crêpe over white satin, with flounces of Honiton lace looped up with pink tuberoses. A wreath of tuberoses and bouquet for the corsage. We had tickets sent us to go through the garden and set down at a private door, which saves waiting in the long line of carriages for your turn. The Diplomatic Corps arrange themselves in a line near the door at which the Queen enters the suite of rooms, which was at ten precisely. She passes through, curtseying and bowing very gracefully, until she reaches the throne in the next room, where she and the Duchess of Cambridge, the Duchess of Saxe-Weimar and her daughters, who are here on a visit, etc., sit down, while Prince Albert, the Prince of Prussia and other sprigs of royalty stand near. The dancing soon began in front of the canopy, but the Queen herself did not dance on account of her mourning for Prince Albert’s grandmother. There was another band and dancing in other rooms at the same time. After seeing several dances here the Queen and her suite move by the flourish of trumpets to another room, the guests forming a lane as she passes, bowing and smiling. Afterward she made a similar progress to supper, her household officers moving backwards before her, and her ladies and royal relatives and friends following. At half-past one Her Majesty retired and the guests departed, such as did not have to wait two hours for their carriages. On Saturday we went at two to the fête of flowers at Chiswick, and at half-past seven dined at Lord Monteagle’s to meet Monsieur and Mademoiselle Guizot. He has the finest head in the world, but his person is short and insignificant.

On Wednesday we dined at Lady Chantrey’s to meet a charming party. Afterward we went to a magnificent ball at the Duke of Devonshire’s, with all the great world. On Friday we went to Faraday’s lecture at the Royal Institution. We went in with the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, and I sat by her during the lecture. On Saturday was the Queen’s Birthday Drawing-Room. . . . Mr. Bancroft dined at Lord Palmerston’s with all the diplomats, and I went in the evening with a small party of ladies. On coming home we drove round to see the brilliant birthday illuminations. The first piece of intelligence I heard at Lady Palmerston’s was the death of the Princess Sophia, an event which is a happy release for her, for she was blind and a great sufferer. It has overturned all court festivities, of course, for the present, and puts us all in deep mourning, which is not very convenient just now, in the brilliant season, and when we had all our dress arrangements made. The Queen was to have a concert to-night, a drawing-room next Friday, and a ball on the 16th, which are all deferred. . . . I forgot to say that I got a note from Miss Coutts on Sunday, asking me to go with her the next day to see the Chinese junk, so at three the next day we repaired to her house. Her sisters (Miss Burdetts) and Mr. Rogers were all the party. At the junk for the first time I saw Metternich and the Princess, his wife.

To W. D. B.

LONDON, June 29, 1848.

MY DEAR W.: . . . When I last left off I was going to dine at Miss Coutts’s to meet the Duchess of Cambridge. The party was brilliant, including the Duke of Wellington, Lord and Lady Douro, Lady Jersey and the beautiful Lady Clementina Villiers, her daughter, etc. When royal people arrive everybody rises and remains standing while they stand, and if they approach you or look at you, you must perform the lowest of “curtsies.” The courtesy made to royalty is very like the one I was taught to make when a little girl at Miss Tuft’s school in Plymouth. One sinks down instead of stepping back in dancing-school fashion. After dinner the Duchess was pleased to stand until the gentlemen rejoined us; of course, we must all stand. . . . The next day we dined at the Lord Mayor’s to meet the Ministers. This was a most interesting affair. We had all the peculiar ceremonies which I described to you last autumn, but in addition the party was most distinguished, and we had speeches from Lord Lansdowne, Lord Palmerston, Lord John, Lord Auckland, Sir George Grey, etc.