At the old duke’s table I had always a cover; and a groom and a pair of horses were exclusively at my service. The duke was a remarkably fine old man, but had been blind for many years when I had the honour of making his acquaintance. The calamity occurred through the following lamentable circumstance. At his father’s house, celebrated for hospitality, a large party of friends were entertained, for whose greater amusement rural sports were resorted to. The wild-boar hunt was generally selected, in which the duke, then a young man, took great delight; but as one of the guests, who was chargé d’affaires of the British Court, expressed an unwillingness to join in the boar hunt, preferring partridge-shooting, the young duke in courtesy gave up his favourite amusement and joined his friend, for whom he entertained the greatest esteem. All being arranged, the parties set forth, and on their arrival at Enghien, a considerable estate belonging to the duke about five-and-twenty miles from Brussels, the sport began. The duke took his station behind a hedge; and his English friend screened himself behind a neighbouring fence. The cover being very close, beaters were sent in to drive out the birds, as in woodcock-shooting in England. A rustling sound being heard by the Englishman, who had the boar hunt, which took place in the same parts, still in his mind, he fired through the fence and lodged the contents of his gun in the face of his friend. At a cry of distress from the duke, the Englishman broke his way through the fence, when fancy his horror at perceiving his dear friend prostrate on the ground, his figure recognised, but all his features disguised by blood and his eyes incapable of seeing his agonised friend. Nearly frantic at witnessing the dreadful result of his incautious fire, he holloaed out for assistance; and on the arrival of some domestics he instantly ran into the town of Enghien, and ordering a postchaise drove off to Brussels, nor stopped he, except to change horses, until he arrived at Ostend, where he instantly embarked for England, never again to return to the Netherlands. The two faithful friends never more beheld each other, one because he was blind, the other on account of a horror which he could never overcome. The duke was carried to Brussels and the first medical aid which the Netherlands could produce immediately consulted. The most eminent physicians and surgeons of France and England were sent for, but to no purpose—the vision was for ever destroyed.
A NOBLE SERVITOR.
During my visit at Brussels, by the duke’s desire, I passed a few days at Enghien. Being alone, I was entertained by an old family steward, who always resided there. The family mansion having been burnt, its place was supplied by two handsome pavilions. The old domestic, who had been previously advised of my visit, was the most respectable person for his station whom I ever met; in truth, he appeared a perfect gentleman of the old school, as well in dress as in address. Nearly seventy chill winters must have passed over his head, but although those rigid seasons left many a rough stamp behind, his sympathy and warm heart gave ample testimony that an equal number of genial summers had done their part. His white hair was bound with black ribbons and formed a massy queue, extending some way down his shoulders; yet, silvered as were his venerable locks, he was highly powdered too,—this always gives a peculiarly dressy appearance. His coat was of the old-fashioned cut, sloping backwards from the lower part of the breast to the extremity of the skirts and bearing large steel buttons. His waistcoat was of a similar cut, having long low-flapped pockets, below which were short velvet breeches, black silk stockings and polished shoes with large silver buckles. To be attended by such a personage during dinner distressed me very much. I should have felt more easy if in place of serving he had sat down and borne me company; this I proposed, but no remonstrance of mine could prevail upon him to acquiesce. He remarked that he could never so far forget his duty and respect as to sit at the same table with his lord’s guest, and moreover that I should be without the attendance which he had received orders to give. I then proposed that the young lad who always rode after me should wait. To this he objected, unless I ordered it, which I declined to do, perceiving by a half-muttered expression that it would be indecorous to introduce a stable groom into the dining-room. After dinner, which I hurried over, I insisted on his placing a second wineglass and obliged him to sit down, stating that there were many circumstances relative to his lord with which I wished to become acquainted, and for which I had the duke’s authority. This he considered as a mandate and sat down; yet such was the distance at which he placed his chair from the table that he imposed upon himself the obligation of standing up whenever I prevailed upon him to take his glass of the good wine, which I had always to pour out for him.
During my stay at Enghien this respectable gentleman-butler related many anecdotes of gallant deeds performed by the Dukes d’Arenberg, but as was natural dwelt most upon those scenes which took place in his own time. Next morning he conducted me to the spot where the fatal accident deprived his lord of sight. The old man was of the shooting party; and with tears in his eyes he described the whole scene most minutely and pathetically. Having seen all the grounds, I returned to the pavilion; but on that day too I could not prevail on the old man to sit down to dinner, and finding him inflexible and being hurt at seeing so old and so respectable a person on his legs whilst I sat at dinner, I determined to depart next morning. On coming away I cordially shook the good old man by the hand, and would most willingly have made some donation, but I could not presume to offer him money, knowing how much it would hurt him; I should as soon have offered such an affront to the duke.
THE FRIEND WHO SHOT HIM.
When I returned to Brussels the good old duke asked me with the greatest coolness if I had seen the spot where he was deprived of sight. He seemed to treat the circumstance with perfect indifference; but he evidently felt great emotion whenever the name of his unhappy friend was mentioned, and I repeatedly heard him say, “My poor friend! he suffers more than I do.” Some years after the accident took place the duke visited England, and calling upon his friend, who happened to be out, left his name and address. When the other returned and saw the duke’s card, he instantly ordered post-horses and departed for Italy, not being able to summon fortitude sufficient to encounter that friend whom he so highly prized. The duke suffered much by this disappointment; for although deprived of the power of seeing him, still it would have afforded him the greatest consolation to press to his bosom the friend whom he now more than ever esteemed. Not long after the duke travelled into Italy, where he was doomed to experience a similar disappointment. Happening to visit the same town in which his friend was living for a time, he paid him a visit, but not finding him at home did not leave his card, as he hoped to meet him another time; but when the friend returned and heard from his servant a description of the caller, he instantly set out for England. They never met after the sad accident; and they both departed this life nearly at the same moment.
During the duke’s sojourn in England he ordered a machine to be made entirely imagined by himself, which in his lamentable state enabled him to play at whist, a game to which he was very partial and which afterwards principally contributed to his amusement. It was a small mahogany box about eighteen inches long, six inches deep, and the same in breadth; it screwed under the leaf of the table in front of where the duke sat to play; in its side were four rows or little channels, and in each channel were thirteen holes corresponding with the number of cards in each suit; in each of these holes was a movable peg, which could be pushed in or pulled out. The pack being dealt out, a page, who sat close to the duke, sorted his cards, placing them in suits and in order of value from left to right, each suit being separated from the others by the duke’s fingers, between which they were placed by the page. Beginning from the left with spades, hearts, diamonds and clubs in order, the peg corresponding with each card in the duke’s hand was drawn out, so that the duke passing his fingers over the machine learned each card in his hand by means of the corresponding peg. Each of the other players named the card which he played. For instance, the person sitting on the left of the duke said, “I play the seven of hearts”; the next, “I play the ten”; the third, “I play the queen,” when the duke exclaimed, “And I play the king,” and infallibly down came the king. I never saw him make a mistake. When he had played a card he pushed in the peg corresponding to that card. On one occasion having had the honour of being his partner against the Marquis de Grimelle and another, I won a napoleon, which I bored and kept in memory of having won it with a partner totally deprived of sight. The duke was much pleased at my doing so.
The duke entertained in princely style. His table displayed the choicest viands, the rarest productions of the seasons and the most exquisite wines. I remarked that on fast-days there was a particular kind of white soup always placed before the abbé who was attached to the family. Curiosity induced me to ask Prince Prosper, next to whom I always sat, of what this select soup consisted. The prince replied in a suppressed tone of voice that it was extracted from frogs; “For,” said he, “the Church has decided that those animals are not to be considered as flesh: but yet, since the soup thus produced is not sufficiently rich, a couple of pounds of veal are added; and although he is fully aware of the deception practised, the abbé is so good a person that he pardons the cook and absolves him from all sin.”
LETTER FROM H.R.H. THE DUKE OF KENT.
My leave of absence allowing me to remain no longer at Brussels, I returned to England. At parting, the good, the truly noble old duke presented me with a letter of introduction recommending me to the protection of H.R.H. the Duke of Kent; and although, as I have stated, he had been blind for many years, yet I saw him write the concluding one or two lines and subscribe his name to this letter.