Madame de la Redorte writes from Paris that an unparalleled ovation has been given by the Carlist party to the Russian Chargé d'Affaires, M. de Kisseleff, after the outburst of personal feeling: he was triumphantly received at their club without any suggestion on his part. However, he has been invited to the great hall at the Tuileries and I presume he will appear there. She also says that the intimacy between M. Guizot and Madame de Lieven has become of such a character as to arouse public feeling, and that reference will probably be made to it in the Chamber of Deputies. The newspapers apparently take no notice of the matter.
Nice, January 20, 1842.—I spent yesterday morning in preparing the decorations for a quadrille which has been entrusted to my care. After dinner I dressed the hair of my four ladies; their entrance to the ball with their four gentlemen was most successful; Pauline and Fanny in blue and black, Madame de Césole and an Italian lady in rose and black, all four covered with diamonds and wearing the Spanish mantilla very gracefully. M. de Césole and Frederick Leveson, the son of Lord Granville, were the blue knights, while Lord Aston and a young Russian were the knights in rose colour. It was a pretty ball, excellently lighted, with a large number of tasteful and fashionable costumes, but I thought our quadrille was the prettiest of all. Madame de Césole and Pauline were the queens of the entertainment. Madame de Césole has a very Spanish face, and though worn by the cares of six children in immediate succession, she is still very pretty with the help of a little adornment; she is a very nice and pleasant person. Pauline looks quite beautiful: she is, moreover, very fashionable, much sought after, and takes the lead, more or less, everywhere. She seems to please every one, even the most serious, and her success makes her the more beautiful.
Nice, January 21, 1842.—I have a letter from the Duc de Noailles announcing the marriage of his daughter to their cousin Maurice. He then devoted four pages to eulogising the talent of Mlle. Rachel and told me that he is advising her to play Célimène, and that the chief advice he has given is to be deeply in love, as the whole secret of the part consists in that.
Yesterday the weather was very fine and I took advantage of it to ascend with my son-in-law, on foot, an imposing mountain which separates old from new Nice; a winding path has been made by which the ascent is comparatively easy. From the summit the view over the sea at certain times discloses not only the island of Sainte Marguerite, but also Corsica; to right and left the old and new town are spread out as in a panorama, while at the back one sees a circle of hills which shut in Nice from the north; these hills are covered with villas, churches and convents and stand out against a background of fine rocks which are over-topped by snow-covered peaks. The variety and extent of the view make this walk interesting. On the top of the mountain upon a wide expanse are to be found the remains of an old ruined fort.
Nice, January 24, 1842.—Yesterday after dinner I went to the Grand Duchess Stephanie, to hear a new play by Scribe read; it is making some stir in Paris and is called The Chain. It was read to us by M. de Maistre, who is a good reader. The play is in five acts; the dialogue is witty, the plot well developed and the stage management perfect, in short it is distinctly interesting, but to me the triviality of style characteristic of the author was obvious and an excessive complication of incident spoils the rapidity of the action and fatigues the spectator for the moment. On the stage it should go very well.
Barante writes: "Our little quarrel with Russia seems to be composed; pinpricks have been answered by pinpricks. The Emperor is pleased to let the matter drop and perhaps will behave more carefully in future. It is said that Count Pahlen may be back in six weeks. The fears of all the Russians here that they may be recalled from their dear Paris are quite amusing.
"M. de Salvandy is to arrive to-day, after an extraordinary experience as ambassador. The result would have been the same with any one else, but I am assured that his language, his attitude and his despatches have been something unheard-of in the annals of diplomacy. I am sorry, for he is an upright and excellent man of talent and sound judgment." So much for Barante. I have also a letter from Salvandy himself dated January 16 and written from Tours on his way back to Paris: "For six weeks I have lived in the midst of constant annoyance and apprehension, and continual work, with more despatches than any energetic and permanent embassy ever produced, has filled my days and my nights. I have encountered difficulties which I pointed out and in the face of which I received the strongest reassurances, but hateful intrigues rendered them insurmountable. For sixteen days no written message reached me and even ordinary couriers have been stopped. I protracted negotiations as long as possible, and cut them short when I was bound either to flee or to be driven away. Now what is to be done? One point I will guarantee, that France can do what she wishes in Spain; Spain has offered me full satisfaction for the insolence suggested to her authorities. At Bayonne I found an excellent note from Lord Aberdeen, hoping that English influence was not to be found in this matter and pronouncing in favour of the principles supported by France. At Paris I shall learn what will be the result of the business."
Nice, January 26, 1842.—The Duchesse d'Albuféra writes telling me that M. de Salvandy has returned to Paris and says that a large number of ridiculous observations are attributed to him; for instance, he is said to have written from Tolosa, "The French Embassy is touching the Pyrenees and to-morrow will pass the Bidassoa." At every stage he sent his attachés one after the other, riding headlong to Paris to announce his progress. He has left the young son of M. Decazes at Madrid as Chargé d'Affaires. The unanimous assent of the Cortes to Espartero's demands further complicates the question.
The new Stabat by Rossini is now the rage at Paris; it is said to be superb but by no means religious, and I hear that secular words would suit the composition quite as well. In any case it is enough to show that this fine musical genius is not dead, as might have been feared in view of his long silence. Grisi is said to be admirable in the solos of this Stabat; her head has been turned by the singer Mario; her husband wishes to separate from her but she declines for some reason unknown, while the refusal obliges her at this moment, for some reason unknown to me, to pay her husband eight hundred thousand francs, which by no means pleases the lady. She expressed her grief to Lablache who advised her, with his inimitable Italian accent, to have the separation rather than to pay and said, "But what does it matter to you? Everybody knows that you are a bad lot!" In view of so excellent a quotation, I make no further comment.
Nice, January 28, 1842.—Yesterday I called upon Princesse Marie who is confined to the house by indisposition. She told me of several royal marriages: that of Princess Marie of Prussia, the king's cousin, with the Crown Prince of Bavaria; this is a mixed marriage, but all the children will be brought up as Catholics. One of the young princesses of Bavaria is to marry the Hereditary Archduke of Modena; the Crown Prince of Sardinia will marry one of the daughters of the Archduke, who is Viceroy of Milan; while the Princess of Nassau, the half-sister of the reigning duke, is to marry the Prince of Neuwied. I wish that some husband could be found for poor Marie herself. I think this would be the best remedy for her mother's terrible attacks of nerves.