The palatine and his nephew are still with us, and we are daily expecting other guests. The eldest of the palatine's sons is Starost of Radom, and the younger is a colonel in the king's army. The palatine, who has been a widower several years, has also two daughters, one married to Granowski, Palatine of Rawa, and the other recently wedded to Lauckorouski, Castellan of Polaniec. I am very curious to see the palatine's sons; they were educated at Luneville, in France; they must have an air and manner different from those of our young Poles.
The good King Stanislaus, though he dwells in a foreign land, is always seeking to be useful to his compatriots; several young Polish gentlemen are maintained and educated by him at Luneville. They receive the best instruction, and the sons of our first families strive for the honor, using the pretext of relationship, however distant, to obtain their desires. Indeed, they are quite right, for when one can say of a young man, He has studied at Luneville, and has been to Paris, he has certainly an excellent foundation for the beginning of his career. Every one feels quite sure that his manners will be irreproachable, that he can speak French, and dance the minuet and quadrilles. All the gentlemen who have been in France are very successful in society, and very pleasing to ladies.... Really, I am exceedingly curious to see the palatine's two sons!
Saturday, January 6th.
They finally arrived yesterday afternoon, and do not in the least correspond to the idea I had formed of them, the starost less than his brother. I thought I should see a young, lively, and agreeable man, in short, a young man like Prince Cherry, in Madame de Beaumont's tales, who would speak French all the time; but I was quite mistaken. The starost is no longer young; he is thirty years old, and quite stout; he is not fond of dancing, and never speaks a single word of French. Every now and then he puts in a word or two of Latin, like my father. I am much better pleased with the colonel; he wears a uniform, is young, and says at least a few words in French.
To-day is Twelfth day, and Michael Chronowski will be emancipated before nightfall. They are baking a great cake in the kitchen, with a bean in it. Who will be king? Heavens, if I were to be queen! I should wear a crown on my head during the whole evening, and should bear absolute sway in the castle.... There would be plenty of dancing then, I'll answer for it!... But whether I command it or not, there must be dancing, I am sure, for a crowd of visitors has been pouring in ever since morning; the servants are grumbling, and the keeper of the table service is quite provoked. When he sees all the carriages standing on the square facing the church of Piotrkowicé, he says there is no end to work for him. As for me, I jump with joy; and so it is in this world, where some are happy from the very cause which makes the torment of others.
Sunday, January 7th.
How many people! The castle is so gay and lively! We amused ourselves finely. I was not queen, for Barbara got the bean, and when she saw it in her portion of the cake, she blushed to her very eyes. Madame, who was seated near her, announced the fact, and all the guests and attendants testified their satisfaction by loud shouts. Our little Matthias laughed and said: She who has the bean will marry Mr. Michael (kto dostal migdala dostanie Michala) a Polish proverb always repeated upon such occasions. It is also a common saying that when a young girl has it, she will be married before the end of the carnival. God grant that this prophecy may be verified, for then we shall have a wedding, and abundance of dancing!
I cannot become accustomed to the starost; his gravity does not please me; he would dance nothing yesterday but Polish dances. He never mentions Paris or Luneville, and takes no notice of young people; he never addresses to us any of those little gallantries which are the small change of good society; he talks only to our parents, plays cards, and reads the newspapers. I still continue to think that his brother is worth more than he; at least he is more sociable, he talks about Paris and Luneville, and is not so old.
But I am forgetting to relate the ceremonies accompanying Michael Chronowski's emancipation; I was quite diverted with them. When all the company had assembled in the great hall, my father took his place upon the highest seat; the folding doors were thrown open, and the steward, accompanied by several young courtiers, introduced the candidate for emancipation, very richly dressed in a full suit of new clothes. He knelt before my father, who touched his cheek lightly in sign of good will; he then fastened a sword at the young man's side, drank off a cup of wine, and presented him with a fine horse, accompanied by a groom, also well mounted and equipped. The two horses were in the castle court.
My father asked Chronowski if he preferred trying his fortune in the world or remaining in his service. Michael replied, timidly, that he was very happy in the castle, but would like to see more of his country, and ventured to ask a recommendation to Prince Lubomirski, Palatine of Lublin, my father's brother-in-law. His request was granted, my father slipped a roll of twenty gold ducats into his hand, and invited him to remain with us during the carnival. Chronowski seemed delighted with this proposition, and after paying his homage to my father and mother, he kissed the hands of all the ladies present; from that moment he was admitted into our society, and danced his best in Mazurkas and Cracroviennes with Barbara. He certainly dances very well, and my sister is equally graceful; it was charming to see them!