None were kinder to us than Lord and Lady Granville. Lady Granville invited us to all her parties; and when Somerville was obliged to return to England, she assured him that in case of any disturbance, we should find a refuge in the Embassy. I went to some balls at the Tuileries with Madame de Lafayette Lasteyrie and her sister. The Queen Amélie was tall, thin, and very fair, not pretty, but infinitely more regal than Adelaide, Queen of England, at that time. The Royal Family used to walk about in the streets of Paris without any attendants.
Sir Sydney Smith was still in Paris trying to renew the order of the Knights Templars. Somerville and I went with him one evening to a reception at the Duchesse d'Abrantés, widow of Junot. She was short, thick, and not in the least distinguished-looking, nor in any way remarkable. I had met her at the Duchesse de Broglie's, where she talked of Junot as if he had been in the next room. Sir Sydney was quite covered with stars and crosses, and I was amused with the way he threw his cloak back to display them as he handed me to the carriage.
I met with Prince Kosloffsky everywhere; he was the fattest man I ever saw, a perfect Falstaff. However, his intellect was not smothered, for he would sit an hour with me talking about mathematics, astronomy, philosophy, and what not. He was banished from Russia, and as he had been speaking imprudently about politics in Paris, he was ordered to go elsewhere; still, he lingered on, and was with me one morning when Pozzo di Borgo, the Russian Ambassador called. Pozzo di Borgo said to me, "Are you aware that Prince Kosloffsky has left Paris?" "Oh yes," I said, "I regret it much." He took the hint, and went away directly.
I had hitherto been entirely among the Liberal set. How it came that I was invited to dine with M. Héricourt de Thury, I do not remember. M. de Thury was simple in his manners, and full of information; he had been Director of the Mines under Napoleon, and had charge of the Public Buildings under Louis XVIII. and Charles X., but resigned his charges at the Revolution of July. At this time the Duchesse de Berry was confined in the citadel of Blaye. She had a strong party in Paris, who furiously resented the treatment she met with. M. de Thury was a moderate Legitimiste, but Madame was ultra. When I happened to mention that we had been staying with Lafayette, at La Grange, she was horrified, and begged of me not to talk politics, or mention where we had been, or else some of her guests would leave the room. The ladies of that party would not dance or go to any gay party; they had a part of the theatre reserved for themselves; they wore high dark dresses with long sleeves, called "Robes de Résistance," and even the Legitimiste newspapers appeared with black edges. They criticised those who gave balls, and Lady Granville herself did not escape their censure. The marriage of the Duchesse de Berry to the Marchese Lucchesi Palli made an immense sensation; it was discussed in the salons in a truly French manner; it was talked of in the streets; the Robes de Résistance were no longer worn, and the Legitimiste newspapers went out of mourning.
All parties criticised the British Administration in Ireland. A lady sitting by me at a party said, "No wonder so many English prefer France to so odious a country as England, where the people are oppressed, and even cabbages are raised in hotbeds." I laughed, and said, "I like England very well, for all that." An old gentleman, who was standing near us, said, "Whatever terms two countries may be on, it behoves us individuals to observe good manners;" and when I went away, this gentleman handed me to the carriage, though I had never seen him before.
The Marquise de La Place was commissioned by Dr. Majendie to invite me to meet her and Madame Gay Lussac at dinner. I was very unwilling to go; for I detested the man for his wanton cruelties, but I found I could not refuse on account of these ladies. There was a large party of savants, agreeable and gentlemanly; but Majendie himself had the coarsest manners; his conversation was horridly professional; many things were said and subjects discussed not fit for women to hear. What a contrast the refined and amiable Sir Charles Bell formed with Majendie! Majendie and the French school of anatomy made themselves odious by their cruelty, and failed to prove the true anatomy of the brain and nerves, while Sir Charles Bell did succeed, and thus made one of the greatest physiological discoveries of the age without torturing animals, which his gentle and kindly nature abhorred. To Lady Bell I am indebted for a copy of her husband's Life. She is one of my few dear and valued friends who are still alive.
While in Paris, I lost my dear mother. She died at the age of ninety, attended by my brother Henry. She was still a fine old lady, with few grey hairs. The fear of death was almost hereditary in the Charters family, and my mother possessed it in no small degree; yet when it came, she was perfectly composed and prepared for it. I have never had that fear; may God grant that I may be as calm and prepared as she was.
I was in better health, but still so delicate that I wrote in bed till one o'clock. The "Connexion of the Physical Sciences" was a tedious work, and the proof sheets had to be sent through the Embassy.