A curious foreigner who wishes to see all the gradations of social life, can hardly hold out a London season. More than forty invitations are now lying on my table,—five or six for each day. All these fête-givers must be called upon in a morning; and, to be courteous, one must go in person. ‘C’est la mer à boire;’ and yet on my way to parties I continually pass ten or a dozen houses which I don’t know, where the same mass of carriages is standing before the door.
A ball at which I was lately present was peculiarly brilliant, and was attended by some of the Royal Princes. When this is the case, the vanity of the host has introduced the fashion of mentioning it on the card: “To meet his Royal Highness,” &c. &c. is the laughable phrase. The whole garden belonging to the house was built over, and divided into large rooms, which were hung with draperies of rose-coloured and white muslin, ornamented with enormous mirrors and numerous chandeliers, and perfumed with the flowers of every zone.
The Duchess of Clarence honoured the entertainment with her presence; and all pressed forward to see her, for she is one of the few Princesses whose personal character inspires far more respect than their rank, and whose infinite goodness of heart and amiable disposition have gained her a popularity in England of which we Germans may be proud; the more so as she is probably destined to be Queen of these realms.
The person who gave this ball was, however, far from being fashionable; a quality which is susceptible of the strangest ‘nuances.’ But every one, fashionable or not, refines upon his neighbour’s entertainment as he can.
The next day Countess L—— gave a ball, at which I was obliged to alight at least a thousand steps from the house, as it was utterly impossible to get through the crowd of carriages. Several equipages that had tried to force their way were fast locked together, and the coachmen were swearing the most terrible oaths. At this ball the hot-houses were tapestried with moss of various hues, and the ground thickly strewed with new-mown grass, out of which flowers seemed to grow freely here and there; the stalks were illuminated, which doubled the splendour of their colours. The walks were marked by coloured lamps, glittering like jewels in the grass. Gay arabesques were described among the moss on the walls in the same manner. In the background was a beautiful transparent landscape with moonlight and water.
May 15th.
Riding out to-day with several ladies, the question arose which way we should take, the best to enjoy the beautiful spring evening. Just then we saw an air-balloon floating in the sky, and the question was answered. For more than ten miles did the untired ladies follow their aerial guide, as if on a ‘steeple chase,’ but it vanished at length from our sight. The evening was devoted to a grand diplomatic dinner, at which several of the new Ministers were present; and to a ball in a German house, whose solid and tasteful magnificence equals the best English ones, and excels most in the agreeable qualities of its possessors; I mean Prince Esterhazy’s.
My journal will soon be like Bernouilly’s Travels, which mainly treat of invitations, dinners, and evening parties. But you must take the thing as it comes. Liken this journal to a stuff upon which are very different embroideries, some rich, some poor. The strong lasting stuff is my unalterable love for you, and the wish to make you live with me, as far as it is possible, my distant life; the embroideries are only copies of what I see or experience, and must therefore take the same character, be the colours sometimes glowing, sometimes faint. And it were not to be wondered at if they faded altogether in the choking city, which never can afford such lovely hues as beautiful nature.
May 21st.
I give you notice beforehand that I must remain true to the same theme, and record a breakfast at the Duke of Devonshire’s at Chiswick.