On returning here from this excursion, I heard the sad news of the death of Princess Tyszkiewicz, which took place the day before yesterday at Tours. I had to break the news to M. de Talleyrand. At his age such losses afflict the mind more than the heart, for they seem rather a personal warning than a sorrow. He was more startled than I; I was more affected than he, for I had a real affection for the Princess, and I was very grateful to her for all that she was to me long ago. Though she had survived herself, I cannot think without pain of the part of the past which is buried with her, for when one loses friends one loses not only them but a part of one's self.
M. de Talleyrand agreed with me that we could not allow this poor but illustrious lady, the niece of the last King of Poland, and only sister to the unfortunate Marshal Prince Poniatowski, to be laid to rest among strangers. She will be buried at Valençay.
A letter from Paris which came last night says, "nothing is settled about the Ministry. The thing grows ridiculous, and the intrigues show no signs of stopping. The day before yesterday it was thought that everything was settled, and that Thiers was going off to Valençay, but yesterday all was changed and things are as they were. There has never been such a dissolving force as Thiers; his oratorical gifts are costing us dear, but some conclusion must be reached. M. de Rigny is quite ready to retire, M. Guizot is still supporting Broglie for the Presidency of the Council, and Thiers is backing Molé."
Valençay, November 6, 1834.—The other day M. Royer-Collard told me something that is very amusing because it is so characteristic of him. He said that the second Madame Guizot was reproaching him vigorously with having repudiated all religion, and with having refused to be its patron and protector. She said that by complaining, as he did, that he was claimed by the religious party, he caused much embarrassment to its members. She therefore begged him to cease attacking them and turning them to ridicule on every occasion, as he was in the habit of doing. "Ah, Madame!" he replied, "you wish then that I should leave the public in error, and thus deprive myself of my only consolation, and my only chance of revenge." She was furious. The one thing which annoys M. Royer-Collard, (and it annoys him very much) is Guizot and all his works. This annoyance is perhaps not altogether unfounded. He has no love for M. de Broglie whose lofty virtue did not seem to him adequate to the circumstances which recently arose, and as for Madame de Broglie he likes her even less, because her piety does not preserve her from any of the agitations of public life, and is even compatible with political intrigue. The contrast involved in this is displeasing to him.
Valençay November 7, 1834.—Here is an anecdote which is quite authentic, having been told me by an eye witness, and which struck me very much. M. Casimir-Périer, as is well known, died of cholera. Besides this he was completely out of his mind during the last ten days of his life; a tendency to insanity had already revealed itself in several members of his family. Well, several hours before his death two of his colleagues in the Ministry, with two of his brothers, were talking in a corner of the room of the embarrassment which the arrival of Madame la Duchesse de Berry was causing in la Vendée, of the resulting difficulties for the Government, of what ought to be done, and of the responsibility involved in doing it, and of the fear and reluctance every one had in assuming this responsibility. This conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sick man who sat up in bed and exclaimed: "Oh if only the President of the Council were not mad!" Then he fell back on the pillow and was silent. He died shortly afterwards. Is not this striking, and does it not make one shudder as one does at King Lear?
Valençay, November 9, 1834.—I went to Châteauvieux yesterday to see M. Royer-Collard. He had received letters from several of the Ministers who have resigned. From these he understands that no sooner were the five resignations sent in than they were politely accepted. The King sent for M. Molé, and entrusted him with the Presidency of the Council, and the task of recomposing the whole Cabinet. M. Molé asked for twenty-four hours to consider matters, and to see whom he could persuade to act with him. However, as everybody declined to share the task, he was himself compelled to withdraw, and so the whole situation has again become vague, and perhaps impossible.
Almost all the papers have again broken out against M. de Talleyrand. Some say he is dead, some that he is ill in mind and body, others insult him grossly and foully. M. Royer-Collard explains this new access of savagery to the fear that the Presidency of the Council will be offered to M. de Talleyrand and accepted by him. It seems that many people, struck by the absence of good men, wish the King to look to us, and that the terror which this inspires in certain others envenoms all that they do, or say, or write. It is a melancholy privilege to be the last resort of some people and the object of the detestation of others, and that at an age when the need of rest should be the ruling consideration, and the one aim in all things should be to make a good end.
Valençay, November 10, 1834.—Here is an extract from a letter from M. Royer-Collard received yesterday: "I will say in all seriousness to M. de Talleyrand that, after four years absence, I am not surprised that he attaches more importance to newspaper articles than they now possess. He does not know how much the prestige of the press, like all other kinds of prestige, is worn out. Any one who replied to a newspaper after the lapse of a day or two, would not be understood; the occasion would be forgotten. Violent language can no longer either exalt or abase any one. Amid torrents of praise or abuse one remains exactly where one was before. It is the characteristic of this evil age.
"No, nothing is settled at Paris, because nothing that will pass muster is possible. Here are seen the natural consequences of the last revolution. M. de Talleyrand was clever enough and fortunate enough to turn it to his glory, but he could not repeat the miracle. His last piece of ingenuity must be to choose the right moment for the end, I had almost said for breaking both with England and France, as this year has made them. I often come back to the idea that last year was the time he should have gone and put himself in a position of safety. It was natural to make the mistake; I made it myself. You, Madame la Duchesse, alone were right. From this very arm-chair from which I am writing to you to-day, I was blind enough to combat you, knowing nothing about it. You alone were in a position to know and to judge. I was wrong; this is yet another piece of homage which I am anxious to pay you."
Valençay, November 11, 1834.—Mr. Damer writes from Paris as follows: "Have you heard a horrible story relating to Madame and Mlle. de Morell, the sister and the niece of M. Charles de Mornay, of something which happened at the Military School at Saumur. A young man of that town called M. de la Roncière, not a particularly high-minded person, fell in love with Madame de Morell, who may, or may not, have given him some encouragement. I don't know exactly whether she did or not, but finally she dismissed him. On this he vowed vengeance, and transferred his attentions to the daughter, a young girl of seventeen. He wrote her frequent threatening letters, saying he would kill her father and mother if she did not listen to him, and one night she was found in a condition which amounted to insanity. On hearing of her condition, the young man fled from the school, but has since been arrested. He then produced letters, whether genuine or not, which he says were written to him by the mother and daughter, and which are exceedingly compromising. They say Charles de Mornay has come to Paris about this affair."[43]