Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1836-1840
appearance. I shall leave her entirely overcome by the warmth of her
reception, her fine qualities, and the admirable example which she
sets here.
_Rochecotte, September 27, 1838._--Yesterday I had a most unexpected
piece of news which grieved me deeply: Madame de Broglie is dead of
brain fever, though she was so young, at any rate for death--a year
younger than myself--though she was so happy, healthy, beautiful,
useful, distinguished, and beloved. In one short week she was carried
off, though prepared for death by her constant goodness. It has been
no surprise to her.
Almost the same day, but after a longer illness, amid the dissipations
of too worldly a life, died Lady Elizabeth Harcourt. She was of the
same age, and also handsome, but I think in no way prepared for the
dread passage.
With the death of my brother-in-law, the Prince of
Hohenzollern-Hechingen, I have heard of three deaths during the last
week. Last month Anatole de Talleyrand died; in the month of July
Madame de Laval; on May 17 M. de Talleyrand; on April 28 my
father-in-law; in March my uncle Medem. In less than seven months
eight persons have disappeared who were bound to me by ties of blood,
friendship, or intercourse. Death surrounds me on every hand, and I
can no longer trust either to the freshness of my daughter or to the
cares of others; only the goodness of God can be infallibly trusted,
and on His infinite mercy I must rely, and confide my loved ones to
His care.
During the last two days of her life Madame de Broglie was delirious,
and chanted the Psalms so loudly that one could hear her from one end
of her residence to the other. When she was not singing she talked to
her brother and her daughter who had died years before.
_Valençay, October 3, 1838._--I am again in this beautiful spot, so
rich in memories and so deprived of life and movement. I reached here
yesterday in the moonlight, which suits the place so well, and which
M. de Talleyrand always pointed out to us with such admiration. It was
an unpleasant journey: broken carriages, tired horses, bad
postillions, torn harness, and abominable roads, as they are being
repaired or constructed afresh; in short, a series of petty obstacles,
which troubled and vexed us, and made us late. M. de Talleyrand's old
dog, Carlos, was strangely excited at our arrival, and pulled Mlle.
Henriette by her dress, as if he would say, "Come and help me to look
for the missing one."
_Paris, October 9, 1838._--I am now again in Paris, though I cannot
conceal the fact that a stay in this town makes me sadder than ever.
How I long for my workmen, my garden, the soft skies of Touraine, the
quiet of the country, the restfulness of the fields, time to think and
to reflect, of which I am here deprived by constant business and
worry!
_Paris, October 12, 1838._--Yesterday I went to the Convent of the
Sacré Cœur, where I stayed a long time with the Archbishop of Paris.
He gave me an exact translation of the letter of secularisation sent
by Pius VII. to M. de Talleyrand. It is a curious document, and shows
that even though M. de Talleyrand, with his habitual carelessness, had
mistaken the text, the general sense had been known to him, and that
he had every reason to say that Rome could not be too exacting without
self-contradiction. As, however, the letter had preceded the marriage
of M. de Talleyrand, and as that marriage was not authorised by the
Church, it was actually necessary for him to retract. This was done
_in verba generalia_, as Rome admitted, and so every one should be
satisfied.
When I returned home I gave orders that I should not be disturbed
during the evening, and busied myself in putting the papers that I had
found at M. de Talleyrand's house into some order. I shall complete
this work only by degrees, for it causes me keen emotion. For
instance, I came upon a note which M. de Talleyrand sent to me from
his room to mine on February 6, 1837,[97] in which he told me that at
his supreme hour his only anxiety would be my future and my
happiness. I cannot say how this scrap of paper has agitated me.
[97] February 6 is St. Dorothea's Day, the patron saint of the
Duchesse de Talleyrand.
_Paris, October 13, 1838._--M. de Montrond came to see me yesterday.
He showed himself extremely kind and soothing; but the true nature of
things peeps out invariably, and towards the end of his call, which
had been spent in expressions of regret for M. de Talleyrand's death,
he let fall a phrase to this effect: "Do you propose to become a lady
of the Faubourg Saint-Germain?" I was able to reply that I had no need
to do anything of the kind, that my position was plain: a lady of rank
and independent means, unwilling to sacrifice my opinions here or my
position there; too deeply attached to the memory of M. de Talleyrand
not to be on good terms with the Tuileries, and too good company not
to live happily with my family and my own friends. He replied that I
had not forgotten to speak like M. de Talleyrand himself. Then he
rose, took my hand, and asked me if I would not be kind to him, saying
that he was alone in the world, that he was very anxious for
opportunities to talk of M. de Talleyrand with me sometimes, and then
he began to weep like a child. I told him that he would always find me
ready to listen to him, and to reply, if he spoke of M. de Talleyrand,
a subject of inexhaustible interest to myself. Human nature is
remarkable in its great diversity and its astonishing contrasts.
_Paris, October 17, 1838._--I have only had two satisfactory incidents
since my return: the arrival of my son Valençay, who is so good to me,
and a long conversation with the Abbé Dupanloup, which went on
yesterday for two hours at my house. Our minds are in sympathy, and,
what is better, we are marvellously alert to divine one another's
feelings, and both noticed it, owing to the strange and rapid
coincidence of our expressions. He has a rapidly working mind, and for
that reason pleased M. de Talleyrand, while with him one is never
embarrassed or hampered, and transitional ideas are never clogged; his
clearness of mind is never marked by dryness, because he has a sweet
and most affectionate soul. My long intercourse with M. de Talleyrand
has made it difficult for ordinary people to get on with me; I meet
minds which seem slow, diffuse, and ill-developed; they are always
putting on the brake, like people going downhill; I have spent my life
with my shoulder to the wheel in uphill work. In M. de Talleyrand's
lifetime I took more pleasure in the society of others, because I
fully enjoyed my own society with him; perhaps also because I
sometimes felt the need of rest at some lower elevation. But to-day I
feel that I am being overcome, in a moral sense, by what the English
call creeping paralysis; in short, yesterday I was able to spread my
wings for a moment, and it did me good. I complained to him of the
want of system in my life, of the weariness and oppression which were
the result of overstrain. He spoke of my reading, and told me that he
thought I should be deeply attracted by patristic literature; he
promised to sketch out a little course of reading for me within my
range. He is no inquisitive or indiscreet converter of souls; he is a
good and intelligent man, a pure and lofty soul, discreet and
moderate, whose influence can never be anything but wise, gentle, and
restrained.
_Paris, October 18, 1838._--The Princess Christian of Denmark, who is
at this moment at Carlsruhe, is no longer young; but fifteen years
ago, when she came to Paris, she was very pretty; her complexion,
hair, and shoulders were especially beautiful. Her features were less
striking, and those are the most permanent elements in beauty. I know
that she and her husband have retained a very kindly feeling for the
present royal family of France. Princess Christian is the
granddaughter of the unfortunate Queen Mathilda of Denmark. Prince
Christian's first wife was a mad woman with dreadful manners.[98] She
went to Rome for refuge and to join the Catholic Church, and there she
plunged into the most ridiculous mummeries. Her husband adored her,
and if the King of Denmark had not insisted upon a separation Prince
Christian would have remained under her yoke. He still corresponds
with her, and has never ceased to regret her loss. The present
Princess Christian, though prettier, is quite sensible, but has never
had much influence with her husband, owing, it is said, to the fact
that she has no children. The first wife was the mother of Prince
Frederick, who is an exile in Jutland.
[98] The first wife of Prince Christian of Denmark was Princess
Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Unfaithful to her husband, she
was separated from him in 1809, and divorced by order of the king
in 1810. She died in 1840 at Rome, where she had lived after her
conversion to Catholicism. She was born in 1784, and married in
1806.
_Paris, October 20, 1838._--Yesterday I went with Pauline to the
Comédie-Française to hear Mlle. Rachel, who is now causing so great a
sensation. I was not at all pleased. They all acted very badly, though
Mlle. Rachel is not so bad as the rest. They played _Andromaque_, in
which she took the part of Hermione, the part of irony, scorn, and
disdain. She went through it accurately and intelligently, but there
is no sympathy or attraction in her acting. She has a thin voice, is
neither pretty nor beautiful, but very young, and might become an
excellent actress if she had good training. The rest of the company is
wretched. I was very bored, and returned home benumbed.
_Paris, October 21, 1838._--The Duchesse de Palmella, whom I saw
yesterday, told me a strange thing. She said that the Duke of
Leuchtenberg, the first husband of Queen Doña Maria, had never been
her husband; that on his arrival in Portugal he was attacked with
scurvy, which made him contagious and greatly disgusted his wife, who
adores the little Coburg. She is now expecting her confinement.
With Pauline I called upon the Duchesse d'Orléans, who seemed to have
recovered very well from her confinement. Her child, which she was
kind enough to show us, is really charming. She has every reason to be
as proud of him as she is.
We came home for an audience granted me by the Infanta Carlotta, the
wife of Don Francisco. Like myself, they are both staying in the
Galliffet residence.[99] It was a curious interview. The Infanta is a
much bolder figure than Madame de Zea, and much taller. She is very
fair, with a face which, though washed out, is none the less stern,
with a rough manner of speaking. I felt very ill at ease with her,
although she was very courteous. Her husband is red-haired and ugly,
and the whole tribe of little Infantas, boys and girls, are all
utterly detestable. The eldest of the princesses is well brought up,
inclined to talk, and graciously took notice of Pauline. In my
opinion, this Infanta would be a most unpleasant Sovereign.
[99] After the death of the Prince de Talleyrand the Duchesse de
Talleyrand sold the residence in the Rue Saint-Florentin to the
Rothschilds. This house she had inherited from the Prince. She
then settled in a large suite of rooms in the residence of the
Marquis de Galliffet, Rue de Grenelle.
_Paris, October 31, 1838._--During the last two days I have seen a
great deal of the Comtesse de Castellane. She speaks of only one thing
which she wants, and for which she is working with incredible energy.
I cannot complain, as her efforts show how much she thinks of my
daughter, to whom she wishes to marry the young Henri de Castellane.
Yesterday I went to consult the Archbishop on the point. He, as well
as the Abbé Dupanloup, seems to think that of all the possible