Nice, January 6, 1842.—Yesterday it snowed for several hours in succession, at Nice, of all places. An icy wind was blowing which froze us though we were sitting close round the stove in which I am burning an enormous quantity of fir-cones and sticks of olive wood which are sold here by the pound, and though my extravagance in this respect is ruinous I cannot get warm.
Nice, January 7, 1842.—Yesterday it snowed nearly all day and the snow remained so long upon the ground that on the terrace which divides my house from the sea, and which is a public walk, all the street boys of Nice gathered and made large snowballs which they hurled with savage and animal yells at every passer by. I watched this strange spectacle from my windows as I did not go out all day.
My huge room reduces me to despair for two reasons; in the first place because it cannot possibly be heated and in the second because it has brought down upon me a demand for an evening reception, issued by the Grand Duchess. I gave in, though with some regret, for it is always more or less of an inconvenience and I am extremely lazy. I have therefore handed over the room to Princesse Marie, to Fanny and to Pauline: I have ordered my son-in-law to make all the necessary arrangements and have declared that I will have nothing to do with it except pay the bills and receive the visitors. It is well for youth to be at work. The Grand Duchess wishes to get up a quadrille and is stirring Nice to its foundations for that purpose. The reception is to take place on Monday next, the 10th. There are a hundred and fifty people on my list: it will be called a tea with dancing; the quadrille will be given by twelve ladies representing the months of the year and four children representing the seasons; these details may not be quite accurate as I am not interfering in the business. The Grand Duchess and Pauline, who is more vigorous now than I have seen her for a long time, together with Comte Eugène de Césole, settle all these matters at the house of the Grand Duchess; I shall only abandon my room upon the morning of the day.
Nice, January 11, 1842.—My reception took place yesterday. It was not exactly a ball but a tea with a little music, after which there were several figure dances, a mazurka and two waltzes. It was all over by one o'clock.
When Count Pahlen left Paris, our embassy at St. Petersburg received orders not to appear at Court on St. Nicholas' Day and the ambassadors pleaded illness as an excuse. M. de Kisseleff and all the Russians were then ordered not to appear at the Tuileries on New Year's Day. On this subject Barante writes as follows: "I had been expecting for some time that the strange idea of showing some personal feeling, apart from Cabinet policy, would oblige the Emperor to form a definite resolution. I think, however, that at present he will try to make his action as little resolute as possible. Probably the return of Count Pahlen will be indefinitely delayed."
Apart from this our Ministry has a majority and seems well content.
Nice, January 13, 1842.—I hear from Paris that M. de Salvandy has been ordered to return with all his attachés; his embassy will have been of very short duration. Thus we are on as bad terms with the extreme south of Europe as with the extreme north. Every one is agreed in saying that Espartero's demands were inadmissible and that he was urged to them by England.
Nice, January 16, 1842.—At St. Petersburg invitations have been withdrawn which had been sent to Casimir-Perier[ [50] for several parties, while the boxes at the theatre to the right and left of his own have been vacated by orders of the authority. What will be the end of all this?
Nice, January 17, 1842.—Yesterday I spent the latter half of the morning with the wife of the governor, the Comtesse de Maistre, who was at home with her family. Her sister-in-law[ [51] who is unmarried, is a clever person. M. de Maistre is an excellent talker and Madame de Maistre seems a most pleasant woman; I have spent the most enjoyable visits here, as regards conversation, that Nice can offer.
Nice, January 19, 1842.—Yesterday was a charming day and I went for a walk for two hours with my son-in-law, strolling by the sea, watching the poor galley slaves at work in the harbour; observing the effects of the sunlight on the sea and the brilliant reflections upon the mountains, the upper parts of which were covered with snow; watching also the ships with their lateen sails, and from time to time exchanging a few words with acquaintances who were attracted by this charming day to follow our example.