Chapter 7

_To W. D. B._

LONDON, March 11, 1848.

DEAR W.: . . . Yesterday we dined at Lord Lansdowne’s. Among the guests were M. and Madam Van de Weyer, and Mrs. Austin, the translatress, who has been driven over here from Paris, where she has resided for several years. She is a vehement friend of Guizot’s, though a bitter accuser of Louis Philippe, but how can they be separated? She interests herself strongly now in all his arrangements, and is assisting his daughters to form their humble establishment. He and his daughters together have about eight hundred pounds a year, and that in London is poverty. They have taken a small house in Brompton Square, a little out of town, and one of those suburban, unfashionable regions where the most accommodations can be had at the least price. What a change for those who have witnessed their almost regal receptions in Paris! The young ladies bear very sweetly all their reverses. . . . Guizot, himself, I hear, is as _fier_ as ever, and almost gay. Princess de Lieven is here at the “Clarendon,” and their friendship is as great as ever.

March 15th.

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 [it] 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.

[Picture: Richard Monckton Miles, (Lord Houghton). From a drawing by Cousins, by permission of the Hon. Mrs. Arthur Henniker]

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.

_To W. D. B._

LONDON, July 21, 1848.

I was truly grieved that the last steamer should go to Boston without a line from me, but I was in Yorkshire and you must forgive me. . . . I left off with the 26th of June. . . . The next evening was the Queen’s Concert, which was most charming. I sat very near the Duke of Wellington, who often spoke to me between the songs. . . . The next day we went with Miss Coutts to her bank, lunched there, and went all over the building. Then we went to the Tower and the Tunnel together, she never having seen either. So ignorant are the West End people of city lions. . . . And now comes my pleasant Yorkshire excursion. We left London, at half-past three, at distance of 180 miles. This was Saturday, July 8. At York we found Mr. Hudson ready to receive us and conduct us to a special train which took us eighteen miles on the way to Newby Park, and there we found carriages to take us four miles to our destination. We met at dinner and found our party to consist of the Duke of Richmond, Lord Lonsdale, Lord George Bentinck, Lord Ingestre, Lord John Beresford, Lady Webster, whose husband, now dead, was the son of Lady Holland, two or three agreeable talkers to fill in, and ourselves.

[Picture: Lord George Bentinck. From a painting by Lane, by permission of the Duke of Portland]

Tuesday.

Lady Webster, Mr. Bancroft, and myself, went to Castle Howard, as Lord Morpeth had written to his mother that we were to be there and would lunch with her. Castle Howard is twenty-five miles the other side of York, which is itself twenty-five miles from Newby. But what is fifty miles when one is under the wing of the Railway King and can have a special engine at one’s disposal. On arriving at the Castle Howard station we found Lord Carlisle’s carriage with four horses and most venerable coachman waiting to receive us. We enter the Park almost immediately, but it is about four miles to the Castle, through many gates, which we had mounted footmen open for us. Lady Carlisle received us in the most delightful manner. . . . I was delighted to see Lord Morpeth’s home and his mother, who seldom now goes to London. She was the daughter of the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire, and took me into her own dressing-room to show me her picture. . . . On Wednesday we went into York to witness the reception of Prince Albert, to see the ruins of St. Mary’s Abbey, the Flower Show, to lunch with the Lord Mayor, and above all, to attend prayers in the Minister and hear a noble anthem. The Cathedral was crowded with strangers and a great many from London. The next day was the day of the great dinner, and I send you the _Post_ containing Mr. Bancroft’s speech. It was warmly admired by all who heard it.

At ten at night we ladies set out for York to go [to] the Lord Mayor’s Ball, where the gentlemen were to meet us from the dinner. Everybody flocked round to congratulate me upon your father’s speech. Even Prince Albert, when I was led up to make my curtsey, offered me his hand, which is a great courtesy in royalty, and spoke of the great beauty and eloquence of Mr. B.’s speech. The Prince soon went away: the Lord Mayor took me down to supper and I sat between him and the Duke of Richmond at the high table which went across the head of the hall. Guildhall is a beautiful old room with a fine old traceried window, and the scene, with five tables going the length of the hall and the upper one across the head, was very gay and brilliant. There were a few toasts, and your father again made a little speech, short and pleasant. We did not get home till half-past three in the morning. . . . On Friday morning [July 14th] many of the guests, the Duke of Richmond, etc., took their departure and Mr. Hudson had to escort Prince Albert to town, but returned the same evening. . . . The next day we all went to pay a visit to an estate of Mr. Hudson’s [name of estate indecipherable] for which he paid five hundred thousand pounds to the Duke of Devonshire. . . . It is nobly situated in the Yorkshire wolds, a fine range of hills, and overlooking the valley of the Humber, which was interesting to me, as it was the river which our Pilgrim fathers sailed down and lay in the Wash at its mouth, awaiting their passage to Holland. They came, our Plymouth fathers, mostly from Lincolnshire and the region which lay below us. I thought of them, and the scene of their sufferings was more ennobled in my eyes, from their remembrance than from the noble mansions and rich estates which feast the eye.

[Picture: Sir Robert Peel. From the mezzotint after Sir T. Lawrence, R. A.]

On Monday morning we left Newby for York on our way home. It so happened that the judges were to open the court that very morning, on which occasion they always breakfast with the Lord Mayor in their scarlet robes and wigs, the Lord Mayor and aldermen are also in their furred scarlet robes and the Lady Mayoress presents the judges with enormous bouquets of the richest flowers. We were invited to this breakfast, and I found it very entertaining. I was next the High Sheriff, who was very desirous that we should stay a few hours and go to the castle and see the court opened and listen to a case or two. The High Sheriff of a county is a great character and has a carriage and liveries as grand as the Queen’s. After breakfast we bade adieu to our York friends, and set off with our big bouquets (for the distribution was extended to us) for home.

_To T. D._

LONDON, August 9, 1848.

MY DEAR BROTHER: . . . On Saturday we set off for Nuneham, the magnificent seat of the late Archbishop of York, now in possession of his eldest son, Mr. Granville Harcourt. . . . The guests besides ourselves were Sir Robert and Lady Peel, Lord and Lady Villiers, Lord and Lady Norreys, Lord Harry Vane, etc. We considered it a great privilege to be staying in the same house with Sir Robert Peel, and I had also the pleasure of sitting by him at dinner all the three days we were there. He was full of conversation of the best kind. Mr. Denison and Lady Charlotte, his wife, were also of our party. She was the daughter of the Duke of Portland and sister of Lord George Bentinck, Sir Robert’s great antagonist in the House.

On Sunday morning we attended the pretty little church on the estate which with its parsonage is a pleasing object on the grounds. The next day the whole party were taken to Blenheim, the seat of the famous Duke of Marlborough, built at the expense of the country. The grounds are exquisite, but I was most charmed by the collection of pictures. Here were the finest Vandykes, Rubens, and Sir Joshua Reynolds which I have seen. Sir Robert Peel is a great connoisseur in art and seemed highly to enjoy them. Altogether it was a truly delightful day: the drive of fifteen miles in open carriages, and through Oxford, being of itself a high pleasure. Yesterday we returned to London, and on Thursday we set out for Scotland.

_To Mr. and Mrs. I. P. D._

EDINBURGH, August 16, 1848.