“No; not in the least,” said he, endeavouring to smile; “but the Prince has been practising a bit of ‘plaisanterie’ on me, which I own has astounded me.”
“Won’t you read it, my Lord; or shall I explain?”
“Oh, Monsieur le Prince,” said Lord T———, crushing the papers into his pocket, “I think you may be satisfied;” and with this, to the company, very mysterious excuse, his Lordship abruptly retired; while Talleyrand almost immediately set out for London.
The nature of the mystification was not disclosed till long afterwards; and it is but justice to both parties to say, not by Talleyrand, but by Lord T——— himself.
With what facility men, whose whole daily life is artifice, can be imposed on, is a very remarkable feature in all these cases. The practice of deceit would actually appear to obstruct clear-sightedness and dull the ordinary exercise of common sense. Witness that poor Dutch ambassador Fabricius, who, a few years ago, was imposed on at Paris by Bouffé, the comedian, representing himself to be the first Secretary of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and offering, for a sum of money, to confide to him the secret negotiations between M. Guizot and the Belgian Government! Fabricius, deceived by the great resemblance of Bouffé to the person he represented, agreed, and actually wrote to the King of Holland a triumphant despatch, announcing his own diplomatic dexterity. Every post saw a huge packet of letters to the King, containing various documents and papers; some assuming to be in the handwriting of Guizot—some, of Nothomb—some, of the Duke of Wellington—and two or three of King Leopold himself. The task of undeceiving the unhappy dupe was taken by his Majesty Louis Philippe, who having, at an evening reception at Neuilly, exposed his attempted corruption, coolly turned his back and refused to receive him.
Another dive into this chaotic mass of reminiscence! A letter from poor Granthorpe, whose sad suicide remains the unexplained and unexplainable mystery of all who knew him. A man whose mind was remarkable for its being so deeply imbued with sentiments of religious truth—whose whole life was, so to say, devotional—is found dead, the act being by his own hand! No circumstance of domestic calamity, no pecuniary difficulty, not even a passing derangement of health, to account for the terrible event. Here is his note; we were but new acquaintances at the time, and it begins,—
“Dear Sir,
“From the conversation we held together lately at Lord N——‘s
table, I believe I shall not misinterpret your
sentiments by supposing that any new fact connected with
Waterloo will interest you strongly. I therefore enclose you
a memoir, drawn up a few evenings back at W———. It was
begun by way of a regular refutation of Alison, whose views
are so manifestly incorrect; the idea of publication is,
however, abandoned, and I am at liberty merely to shew it to
such of my friends as take a more than common interest in
the transaction.
“Truly yours,
“S. Granthorpe.”
The memoir which accompanied this is curious for two reasons: first, from its authenticity; and, secondly, from the fact that, being dictated from beginning to end, it is as clear, as consecutive, as free from unnecessary, and as full of all necessary detail, as if the events were of a few days’ back, and that no recital of them had yet been given to the world. Two or three anecdotes (new to me, at least) were interspersed here and there, not for themselves, but as circumstantially evidencing facts of some importance.
One, I remember, alluded to a Prussian statement by a Captain Hahnsfelder, who stated that two British guns, placed on the height above La Haye Sainte, were captured by the French as early as eleven o’clock. The passage in the memoir is this:—“Untrue; these guns were in the field at seven in the evening, in the same position which they stood at the beginning of the battle. They are in advance of Adam’s left, and were so far unprotected that the artillerymen who served them had to retire after each discharge. The Cuirassiers made several attempts to carry them off, but as orders were given that, after each fire, one wheel should be taken off each gun, the cavalry failed in their object. They tried to lasso them, but this also failed, besides losing them some men.”
Alison’s strategy, for he went so far as to plan a campaign of his own, is very ably exposed, and the necessity of posting troops in particular districts clearly explained from circumstances peculiar to the localities, such as stationing the cavalry at Enghein, where alone forage was procurable. The controversy, if it can be so called, is worthless. They whose opinions are alone valuable are exactly the persons who will not speak on the subject.