Paris, May 10, 1843.—The Comte de Paris, though hardly five years old, has been definitely handed over to male guardianship. His tutor will sleep in his room. His nurse, however, will still look after him. The arrangement seems to be due to the King's wishes. The Duchesse d'Orléans is vexed by it. Since her widowhood she had not returned to her own bedroom and had slept in the nurse's bed in the room of the Comte de Paris.
Paris, May 12, 1843.—I had a long interview yesterday with the King. He spoke of Prussia, whither I am to make a journey, and expressed his dissatisfaction at the fact that the King of Prussia went to England last year and afterwards came to Neuchâtel,[ [88] but went along the whole frontier of France from Ostend to Bâle without touching French territory. However King Louis-Philippe had asked the King of Prussia to come by way of Compiègne where they would have met. The King of Prussia declined the invitation, replying that his shortest journey was through Belgium and that his time was fully engaged. It seems that His Prussian Majesty was anxious to avoid a meeting, even with the King of the Belgians, but as the latter had gone to Ostend for that purpose, he was obliged to give way. The greatest ill-feeling was caused by the remark of the King of Prussia, in reply to some one who expressed his astonishment at His Majesty's refusal to travel through France: "What can you expect; we have promised not to offer any isolated act of politeness to King Louis-Philippe." The French King, deeply wounded, has since ordered his diplomatic officials to refuse passports to foreign princes who might wish to come to Paris incognito, in order to save himself the necessity of meeting them, as the Princes of Würtemberg have done and as the Grand Duke Michael of Russia was inclined to do. Orders have been given upon the frontiers to exercise the strictest supervision in this respect.
Madame Adélaïde seems to be quite in despair at the marriage of Princesse Clémentine which will not provide her with a brilliant position, while the Prince is a nonentity. Madame told me it was very embarrassing and "even worse than the Duke Alexander of Würtemberg." Madame and the King explained their consent to this marriage on the ground that it was impossible to refuse to a daughter aged twenty-six a marriage which was not absolutely unsuitable, when no other prospects were in view. Madame and the King are astonished at the delight which the Princess shows at the prospect of going to Coburg, after her first travels, for there she will find very few social resources, while her position as a Princess of Orléans and a Catholic may prove a source of trouble and embarrassment amid all the little Courts of Germany; but this young and amiable Princess is delighted by the prospect of change and novelty.
Paris, May 15, 1843.—Yesterday I had the honour to receive commissions from the Duchesse d'Orléans to be performed by me in Prussia. She is especially intimate with her cousin, the Princess of Prussia, whose distinction of mind and lofty character please all her intimate friends and deepen their attachment to her. The Duchesse d'Orléans seemed to me more despondent yesterday than she was the first time that I saw her after her widowhood had begun. She seems to feel more and more profoundly her cruel desolation. Many circumstances have also contributed to embitter her temper for some time. She expresses herself in gentle and measured terms, but with less restraint. The departure of the Dowager Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg has left her very lonely, and I found her at one of those moments when the mind cannot suffice for itself, when the power of resistance is yielding, and when confidence became an imperative need. Relying upon my sympathy and my loyalty to the memory which she adores, the Princess threw off restraint and opened her heart in a manner which touched me profoundly. She spoke with bitterness, for which she was the first to reproach herself, of her feelings when the Duc de Nemours was obliged to perform in public those duties which the late Prince performed so admirably; the opening of a railway, a race meeting, or a public function of the kind, are so many wounds to her. She spoke naturally, with perfect choice of language. Her conversation was also deeply marked with religious feeling. She referred briefly to the marriage of Princesse Clémentine, and her impressions seemed to coincide with those of Madame Adélaïde. In short, I stayed two hours with the Duchesse d'Orléans, who seemed to find some relief in talking, an unusual pleasure for her, as her life is confined within somewhat narrow limits. She talks remarkably well, and shows a shrewdness of observation and a constant desire to please. Perhaps all this is too good to be true, and so I was somewhat relieved to see her lose her self-command for the first time. In order to admire her as she deserves, I was waiting for her emotion to become predominant, and I was not disappointed.
Paris, May 18, 1843.—Yesterday I met Father de Ravignan at the house of the Abbé Dupanloup. I was delighted by his noble face and the gentle gravity of his talk. The domination which he exerts in the pulpit disappears in conversation; he is grave and gentle, speaks slowly and in a low tone; the depth of his melancholy gaze is in consonance with a smile that is benevolent, but in no sense lively. He speaks of God with love, of man with forbearance, of the interests of the clergy with moderation, of the triumph of religion with ardour, of himself with modesty, and of the situation in general with wisdom; in short, he inspires confidence and esteem. He hardly ever leaves Paris, and his chief task is now to keep together by constant efforts the young people whom he has attracted and gathered by his brilliant lectures; he hears confessions practically only from men, but they come to him in crowds, and last Easter Day the number of young men who were present at the Sacrament was prodigious. Twelve pupils from the Polytechnic School in uniform were observed. Two years ago a rosary was found in one of the corridors of the school: the pupils seized it, fastened it to the end of a pole, which they set up in the courtyard, and amid much laughter and mockery shouted, "Let us see if the loser of this rosary will dare to claim it." One of the pupils then advanced and said firmly, "The rosary is mine and I wish to have it back." He spoke with such simplicity and courage that no one replied to him by a light word. From that day several followed his example, and now there are a dozen openly professing Catholics in the school.
I am assured that the King has spoken with some vehemence against the Protestants and that he expressed his fear of them. The Duchesse d'Orléans, moved by prudence, diplomacy or conviction, has repeatedly said to the King since her widowhood began; "You may be certain, Sire, that I shall never become the female pope of the Protestants."
M. Guizot, who came this morning to say farewell to me, told me that the King would no longer be satisfied by the return of the Russian Ambassador to Paris; that he had resolved not to resume the equivocal relations with the Emperor Nicholas which had subsisted since 1830 and that an interchange of ambassadors would only take place if the Emperor wrote and addressed him as "brother." M. Guizot takes to himself the honour for the new step adopted by the King with reference to the European courts. He spoke to me at great length of the Duchesse d'Orléans and the tenor of his remarks which I believe to be correct, was as follows: he thinks her very clever, self-restrained, dignified, graceful and a good manager; but she has a restless imagination, feels the need for action and the desire to produce an effect, while her judgment is sometimes ill-balanced; she has also a certain tinge of German affectation and a tendency to preciosity of language, while her liberal tendencies are due to her Protestant sympathies and her desire for popularity. As she feels herself cleverer than the Duc de Nemours and knows that he is not ambitious, she has no fear of him, but she is afraid of the King, who also mistrusts her mental attitude. Her relations with the Queen are by no means intimate and grow cooler every day. She is on better terms with Madame Adélaïde and has one friend in the family, the Prince de Joinville, who is truly an heroic nature, brilliant, undaunted, independent and bold, while he is very fond of his sister-in-law. The Duc d'Aumale, who is a capable and courageous soldier, is behaving excellently in Africa and showing every qualification for the position of Viceroy of Algeria which is in store for him. The Duc de Montpensier, perhaps the cleverest of the King's sons, is still very young and is of no account at present.
Clermont-en-Argonne, May 21, 1843.—My journey has passed off without accident, but the weather is damp and unpleasant and the country looks very dreary; however, from this point onwards, it is more diversified and wooded and corresponds to the description of the Argonne which I read at Baden some years ago. Travelling in a pretty country with some friend, in fine weather, with curiosity aroused and satisfied, may certainly be charming, but to be transported in a box on wheels without interest or attraction is the most foolish of all imaginable occupations.
Metz, May 22, 1843.—The church of Meaux is being restored and the houses about it are being pulled down. Had it not been for the damp and for a slight indisposition which I feel, I should have gone in: I have been anxious for so long a time to see the pulpit where Bossuet preached. I have finished the second volume of Walckenauer on Madame de Sévigné and prefer it to the first; it is cleverly written and the interest is well sustained; new information is given upon a theme which seemed to be exhausted, information that has been collected with great trouble and is cleverly expounded. I gained a better understanding of the great trial of Fouquet from this book than from any other.
Saarbrück, May 23, 1843.—I am travelling terribly fast, am now beyond the French frontier and shall soon cross another frontier in the shape of the Rhine. Every stage that I pass saddens me and even a post painted black and white, or a brook is too much.