11th June, 1814.
My dear Father,
Lest you should have thought me mad by the conclusion of my last, I shall begin by giving you a full explanation of it. The other morning Mrs. L. M. took me and Margaret out in her carriage, and I persuaded her to drive opposite the Pulteney Hotel; but other and heavier carriages obstructed our view; so I borrowed the servant, and said, “I will try and get on the steps, and if I succeed, I will send back for you.” Accordingly, off I set, and was told by the constables I must not stand on the steps; however, the men’s hearts relenting, they told me, if I ran up and made friends with the porter, perhaps I should get into the hall. I took the hint, and opening the door, I accosted Cerberus, who told me admission was impossible, but, tout en me grondant, il avoit la bonté d’accepter une pièce de trois chelins, que je lui mis dans la main, et il me permit d’éntrer. There I found about ten ladies, one of whom, whose face I know as well as my own, came up to me and said, “I’m sure Mrs. Opie you would be welcome to be here,” and seating herself by me, proceeded to discuss divers important matters, en attendant the return of the Emperor from Carlton House. At length he arrived, and we formed a line for him to pass through. He was dressed in a scarlet uniform, (ours,) and wore our blue ribband. His head is bald, his hair light, his complexion is blond and beautiful, his eyes blue, his nose flattish, with a funny little button end to it; his mouth very small, and his lips thin. His chest and shoulders are broad, and finely formed, his manner graceful and dignified, and his countenance pleasing; and he is the Emperor of all the Russias, therefore, he is handsome, delightful, and so forth. I said that we formed a line, and I, simple soul, meant to keep it, but not so my companions; for they all closed round him, and one took one hand, one the other, and really I did not know how far they meant to presume; for my part, I dared not, for some time, even think of touching him, but “evil communications corrupt good manners,” and at last, when he was nearly past, I grasped his wrist, but the grasp would not have crushed a fly. The lady who knew me, said to me, when he was past, “what a soft hand he has.” Lord Yarmouth, who was with him, came afterwards, and talked with that lady. What a fright he is!
Now to go back to Lady Sarah, who, as I said before, is blind. * * * Lord Tullamore came to me, and said, “Now almost all the company is gone, you will sing a little ballad.” I rose, and went to Lady Charleville. “This,” said she, “is Lady S. Napier, will you sing her a ballad?” and, recollecting how ill I once used Lady C. in not answering a letter of hers for three years, and eager to make amends, I said I could not sing anything worth hearing, but I would try. “Surely,” said Lady Sarah, “that was injudicious; Mrs. Opie would rather not have had the attention of the company so loudly solicited.” “Very true,” replied Lady C., “but your ladyship is always the best-bred woman in the world, and I the worst, and I never see you without taking a lesson in manners.” * * * Well, after having beguiled my fear a little, by inquiring of Lady S. after her sister, Lady Louisa Conolly, I begun, and sung, “Nay, take it, Patty,”[[18]] and decently, considering. By Lady Sarah, was one of her sons, who, with his brothers, was wounded in every engagement abroad, and one of them taken up for dead. I never saw a handsomer man! I could not help looking at him! He is very black, with black moustachios, that make him look like a picture of some young Venetian by Titian, and his manner was so pleasing! He has his mother’s outline, enlarged into manly beauty, and he has such fine dark eyes! Thursday I dined at the Maxwells’, and liked my day. Sir James Saumarez dined there; a Mr. Lamb, M.P., and his wife and son. Dr. Young, a Miss Caldwell, and Sir Nathaniel Conant, the magistrate. I sat at dinner between Sir Nathaniel and Mr. Lamb, and liked my companions much. I went home at eleven, undressed, and robed myself to walk to see the illuminations, with Margaret, Tom, and Mr. Barber. We did not get home till three in the morning, and were not in bed till four. Yesterday we staid at home; I had refused a dinner-party, and we kept quiet, and were in bed by half-past ten.
This morning, by a little past eight, we were at the Pulteney Hotel, and in the hall. By ten the hall was very full, so I placed my young companion on a table, and we had a good view of the Emperor and his sister, who came in arm-in-arm, and extended their hands graciously on either side; neither Margaret, however, nor I, had resolution enough to take them; but two young women pressed forward, one on her knee, and kissed his hand, which he drew back as if shocked or ashamed, and I am sure I was, for I did not recognise my country-women in such forwardness. M. touched his arm, and I tried to touch the Duchess’s hand, but had no chance of success. She is very like him, but plain; her nose plainer than his, and though as fair, she has not his colour, but a beauty would have been disguised by such dress; an immense Leghorn gipsy hat, with white feathers; but they say her manners are most captivating. Ask Joseph J. Gurney what he thinks. To-day I dine at Lady Cork’s in the evening. Adieu!
The next letter in this series formed the material for a paper which Mrs. Opie published in “Tait’s Magazine,” February, 1844; at the close of that article, she makes a few reflections, which will be of interest to the reader, as shewing the feelings with which she looked back upon those scenes of earlier days:—
I had dined (she says) that day in company with Lord Erskine, and the lamented Dr. Brown, of Edinburgh, the professor of moral philosophy, at the house of my dear and highly valued friend J. G. Lemaistre, (now, alas! no more,) and I had finished the evening in a party, more than usually marked by interesting incidents and conversation. Yet I fear I have not said much in favour of those gay and busy scenes in which I once moved, by confessing myself so highly gratified by what I have been describing; still I cannot retract my words; pleased and grateful I was—it might perhaps be a weakness in me to feel so; but I cannot be so disingenuous as not to own it to its full extent.
The original Letter bears date the 16th.
My dear Father,
I really could not write yesterday, so I got a frank, that to-day I might write a great deal; but I have seen so much, and seem to have so much to say, that I know not where to begin. On Saturday last I met at dinner Lord Erskine, Sir John Sinclair, Dr. Brown, his brother, the mayor, &c. I sat between Dr. B. and Lord E.; but the peer, by his very agreeable though incessant egotism, and tales of himself, intermingled with interesting anecdotes of the Emperor Alexander, rather seduced my attention away from the philosopher. Barely have I seen Lord E. more amusing, but Sir J. Sinclair was new to me, and I wanted to hear him. So it was really “l’embarras de richesses,” for any one of these three lions would have been enough at once. In the evening came an addition to the company, but Lord E. and I went away to Lady Cork’s; the professor was tired and would not go, though I got Lord E. to offer to take him. Had it not been for my sacred vow never to break an engagement, I should have gone to the opera to see the royalties, which was, I hear, the finest sight of the sort ever seen. At Lady C.’s I found Mrs. Harvey, (the author of many novels, and latterly of the excellent one of Amable,) James Smith, the Boddingtons, Professor Spurzheim, Monk Lewis, Horace Twiss, Lord and Lady Carysfort, Lord Limerick, Miss White, Lord Cumbermere and his betrothed, Miss Greville and her sister, Lady Caroline Lamb, just as ever, and doing her possibles to amuse this very small party, in three large rooms, thrown open for Blucher, who was expected; but the opera had spoiled the party, for Greys, Lansdownes, and Whitbreads, had intended being there. Past midnight, however, some came in from the opera, and broke up our conversation, which had been pleasant; for Lady Carysfort had been very entertaining with accounts of Berlin, and Lord Limerick very eloquent in describing the preparations for White’s ball, so vast and so elegant as to make me very curious, because I shall not see them. However, perhaps I shall escape being burnt alive, for the same decorations exposed Prince Schwartzenberg’s palace to that fire in which his wife was burnt; as the pillars are all made of fluted muslin, to represent alabaster; and the capitals of rose-coloured ditto.