I had not the courage this morning to go and say good-bye for the last time to poor Madame de Lieven, who is half dead with weariness and emotion. It was really kinder not to increase her agitation. I am distressed at her departure as it separates me from a personage of real distinction without much hope of seeing her again; but it also brings home to me in the most painful manner the changes which have taken place here during the last four years, and which have done so much to dim the brilliancy and splendour of England. What losses the Corps Diplomatique has suffered! Kind and gentle M. Falk with all his subtlety, his learning, and his wit, is replaced, first by the cross-grained M. de Zuylen, and now by the excellent but insignificant Dedel. Madame Falk's frank and simple high spirits are also much missed. M. and Madame de Zea were more intelligent by far than the liliputian Miraflorès, M. and Madame de Münster, were in every way much superior to the Omptedas. I can find no one to replace the excellent Madame de Bülow, and I believe that her absence has left her husband's evil tendencies far too much without the check which his wife's simple and honest nature imposed. Esterhazy is universally regretted. His perfect good-humour, the certainty of his social touch, the ease of his character, the magnificence of his way of life, the subtlety of his wit, the correctness of his judgment, and the kindness of his heart made him much beloved here, and not likely to be forgotten. Wessenberg has also left a vacant place which has not been filled. The departure of the Lievens enlarges the social breach, and our own will complete the ruin. The neutral ground afforded by diplomatic households is especially valuable in a country divided by party spirit, in which, politics having broken so many other ties, society can no long hold together in the old way.
We learned yesterday by telegraph that the Queen Regent of Spain had opened the Cortès in person at Madrid on the 24th; that order was restored in the city; that the cholera was diminishing a little; and that Don Carlos was retiring further and further towards the French frontier.
London, August 3, 1834.—Nothing, I think, shows more clearly the state into which the home policy of the English Government has fallen than a remark made to me yesterday by Lord Sefton. "Do you know," he said, "that, in spite of my admiration for Lord Grey, I think that we have come to a point at which it is not only fortunate for himself but a very good thing for the country that he has retired? He would never have consented to the slightest courtesy being shown to O'Connell and his friends, and yet we have no alternative but to satisfy them. It is urgently necessary to conciliate them by condescensions against which Lord Grey would have rebelled, and which are less repulsive to his successors, from my friend the Chancellor downwards. It is a good thing, you see, that we have a Government composed of people who have no objection to condescend as much as may be necessary!"
There seems to be general approval of the speech made by the Queen of Spain. In order to appreciate it properly one must know the condition of the country better than I do. The best wish I can send her Majesty is that she may not again have to deliver such a long one, and that the circumstances of her future speeches may be very different. They say that she spoke very gracefully. She deserves praise for having recovered her nerve, and run the risk of infection in coming back to address the Cortès.
The cholera is carrying off many people at Madrid. The sanitary arrangements are bad; the heat is torrid, and cleanliness is unknown. Twice as many women as men fall victims to the disease. The mother of Madame de Miraflorès is among those who have succumbed.
Don Carlos, it appears, is on the point of recrossing the frontier. It is said that he is so close to it that his outposts and the French outposts are in sight of each other.
I don't know what ill wind is blowing in Paris, but I incline to think that all is not so quiet there as it seems. Here is an extract from a letter from Bertin de Veaux on this subject: "It seems that you and the Prince de Talleyrand are fated never to come to Paris except during a Ministerial crisis, for our Ministry is no steadier than that in London. Here, moreover, people have made up their minds to live from hand to mouth and, except the actors, no one pays any attention to the play. However, when you do come your salon will soon be full, and it is before you and the Prince that all our actors, great and small, will come and try their 'poses,' as they call them nowadays."
In another letter there is a great deal about the dangers of to-day and to-morrow, of the obvious aspirations of some people, of under-currents and cross-currents, of the cabals, and the unmeasured ambition of certain small men, and the ill-temper and sullenness of the rest. A propos of the cruel disappointments experienced by M. Decazes, it is added: "Poor M. Decazes may strike the earth all round him as loudly as he likes; he can make nothing emerge. It is said that he now wants Semonville's place, and that he has perhaps some chance of getting it as Semonville is a convenient person to disoblige, being formidable to nobody. I do not at all like this habit of burying people before they are dead, and I thought that they had had enough of it since their attempt on MM. de Marbois and Gaëte, which was not a success with the public. One is quite delighted when one comes home to find that one has not been robbed of anything."
London, August 4, 1834.—It seems certain that on the eve of the opening of the Cortès, a very extensive Republican conspiracy was discovered, in which many important persons were concerned. Palafox and Romero have been arrested; they say that their supporters were chiefly in Galicia. In Aragon and Catalonia the Carlists are the dominating faction, and are making themselves troublesome. Thus there are two flags under which Spain divides and arrays herself.
When Mr. Backhouse went to see Don Carlos in the Donegal the latter said that he had heard of the treaty of Quadruple Alliance, but wished to see the text. Having read it, he returned it to Mr. Backhouse without remark but with an ironical smile, which became a disdainful laugh when Mr. Backhouse said to him that he believed the Prince to be mistaken about the strength of his party in Spain. Except for this the Prince was polite, gentle, and even kindly.