Don Pedro, Duke of Braganza, ex-Emperor of Brazil, told a lady of very high rank, who repeated it to me, that the misfortune of the present age was that none of the sovereigns had a head to manage affairs.
One of the French papers says, that in the recent elections M. B., a Royalist, has been chosen, at which it manifests great surprise, but adds, that the department for which he had been elected had not attained that degree of civilisation which excludes the idea of legitimacy. From the well-known opinions professed by the journal in question, it cannot be suspected of jesting on the subject.
Somebody having said in conversation that Ministers had advised his Majesty to dismiss his household troops, a gentleman answered: “In that case he should begin by dismissing the Greys.”
It is said Prince Leopold has been forced to accept the crown of Belgium. The expression is, “a pistol has been held to his throat, and another to that of the King of Holland, to make the one accept and the other resign, to avoid bringing England and Holland into collision.” We are not, however, obliged to believe this. Louis Philippe has long had great influence over Prince Leopold.
The King (William IV.) said the other day, in speaking of Don Pedro: “To be sure, we are both sovereigns—at least, he was one: but there is a great difference between us for all that; for I am an honest man, and he is a thief.”
A Frenchman, lately arrived in London, was asked if he had caught the influenza: “Ah! non,” he replied; “je l’ai prise en grippe.”
Lady Talbot of Malahide is turned of ninety. She is of a very ancient and distinguished family in Ireland, and, in gratitude for certain favours bestowed, came over to the Coronation, and went also to the following Drawing-room. I met one evening one of her sons, who is an Admiral, with his niece, her grand-daughter, and they said she was not in the least fatigued.
It has been discovered that four persons were sent from Paris to take the life of the Duke de Bordeaux. Three of them went in separate stagecoaches to Edinburgh, but they have been forced to return, and additional sentinels have been placed at Holyrood. The child now does not walk out with a servant as before, but only goes out in a carriage. The fourth assassin does not seem to have been found out.
A stranger happening to be in Paris soon after the revolution of July, 1830, was stopped by a young chimney-sweeper, who asked him if he had seen the King of the French. The other replied in the negative. “Would you like to see him?” continued the chimney-sweeper. “Only give me a piece of five francs and you shall see him.” The stranger agreed to do so, and they went away together to the Palais Royal. As soon as they were in sight of the balcony the boy began to call out, “Louis Philippe! Louis Philippe!” in which cry he was joined by the rabble near him. The King of the French came out to make his obeisance, and the gentleman gave a five-franc piece to the sweeper. “Now,” said the boy, “if you have a mind to hear him sing, only promise me five more, and you shall be satisfied.” The stranger assented, and his Majesty, at the command of the mob, joined in the Marseillaise Hymn, with all the appropriate grimaces.
At the time when Louis Philippe was shaking hands with everybody in the street, he held out his hand to a man, who said, “Stop a little.” Thrusting both hands in the mud he offered them to the King, saying, “Now they are fit for you.”