These hopes of Charles’s arrest were disappointed.
On March 4, young Waters heard of the Prince at the opera ball in Paris. He sent the Prince a watch from the Abbess of English nuns at Pontoise. Charles was always leaving his watches under his pillow. He certainly was not far from Paris. He scolded Madame de Talmond for returning thither (March 4), and sent to Mademoiselle Luci a commission for books, such as ‘Attilie tragedie’ (‘Athalie’) and ‘Histoire de Miss Clarisse, Lettres Anglaises ‘(Richardson’s ‘Clarissa’), and ‘La Chimie de Nicola’ (sic). Mademoiselle Luci, writing on March 5, tells how the Philosophe (Montesquieu,), their friend, has heard a Monsieur Le Fort boast of knowing the Prince’s hiding-place. ‘The Philosophe turned the conversation.’ The Prince answers that Le Fort is très galant homme, but a friend of la tante (Madame de Talmond), who must have been blabbing. He was in or near Paris, for he corresponded constantly with Mademoiselle Luci. The young lady assures him that some new philosophical books which he had ordered are worthless trash. ‘L’Histoire des Passions’ and ‘Le Spectacle de l’Homme’ are amateur rubbish; ‘worse was never printed.’
The Prince now indulged in a new cypher. Walsh (his financial friend) is Legrand, Kennedy is Newton (as before), Dormer at Antwerp (his correspondent with England) is Mr. Blunt, ‘Gorge in England’ (Gorge!) is Mr. White, and so on. Owing to the death of Frederick, Prince of Wales, there was a good deal of correspondence with ‘Dixon’ and ‘Miss Fines’—certainly Lady Primrose—while Dixon may be James Dawkins, or Dr. King, of St. Mary’s Hall, Oxford. On May 16, Charles gave Goring instructions as to ‘attempting the Court of Prussia, or any other except France, after their unworthy proceedings.’ Goring did not set out till June 21, 1751. From Berlin the poor man was to go to Sweden. In April, Madame de Talmond was kind to Charles ‘si malheureux et par votre position et par votre caractère.’ Mademoiselle Luci was extremely ill in May and June, indeed till October; this led to a curious correspondence in October between her and la vieille tante. Madame de Talmond was jealous of Mademoiselle Luci, a girl whom one cannot help liking. Though out of the due chronological course, the letters of these ladies may be cited here.
From Madame de Beauregard (Madame de Talmond) to Mademoiselle Luci.
‘October 19, 1751.
‘The obstinacy of your taste for the country, Mademoiselle, in the most abominable weather, is only equalled by the persistence of your severity towards me. I have written to you from Paris, I have written from Versailles, with equal success—not a word of answer! Whether you want to imitate, or to pay court to our amie [the Prince] I know not, but would gladly know, that I may yield everything with a good grace, let it cost what it will. As a rule it would cost me much, nay, all, to sacrifice your friendship. But I have nothing to contest with old friends, who are more lovable than myself. On my side I have only the knowledge and the feeling of your worth, which require but discernment and justice. From such kinds of accomplishments as these, you are dispensed. So serious a letter might be tedious without being long, but it is saddened also by the weary weight of my own spirits. Will you kindly give me news of your health and of your return to town? I am sorry that Paris does not interest me; I am going to Fontainebleau at the end of the week.’
Mademoiselle Luci replies with dignity.
‘October 22, 1751.
‘Madame,—A fever, and many other troubles, have prevented me from answering the three letters with which you have honoured me. Permit me to mingle a few complaints with my thanks! Were I capable of the sentiments which you attribute to me, I could not deserve your flattering esteem. Its expressions I should be compelled to regard merely as an effort of extreme politeness on your side. Assuredly, Madame, I am strongly attached to Madame your friend [the Prince]; for her I would suffer and do everything short of stooping to an act of baseness. If, Madame, you have not found in me virtues which will assure you of this, at least trust my faults! My character is not supple. The one thing which makes my frankness endurable is, that it renders me incapable of conduct for which I should have to blush. Believe, then, Madame, that I can preserve my friendship for your friend, without falling, as you suspect, into the baseness of paying court to her [the Prince], in spite of the respect which I owe to you.’
The letters of the ladies (in French) are copied by the Prince’s hand, nor has he improved the orthography. I therefore translate these epistles.
On July 10, 1751, after a tremendous quarrel with Madame de Talmond, Charles wrote out his political reflections. France must apologise to him before he can enter into any measures with her Court. ‘I have nothing at heart but the interest of my country, and I am always ready to sacrifice everything for it, Life and rest, but the least reflection as to ye point of honour I can never pass over. There is nobody whatsoever I respect more as ye K. of Prussia; not as a K. but as I believe him to be a clever man. Has he intention to serve me? Proofs must be given, and ye only one convincive is his agreeing to a Marriage with his sister, and acknowledging me at Berlin for what I am.’ He adds that he will not be a tool, ‘like my ansisters.’
Such were Charles’s lonely musings, such the hopeless dreams of an exile. He had now entered on his attempt to secure Prussian aid, and on a fresh chapter of extraordinary political and personal intrigues.