Oldalképek
PDF
ePub
[graphic]

"The same effort was made some years ago by that excellent woman the Duchess de Broglie, when he was also in a state of extreme danger. She came and prayed by his bed-side; but then it was without the slight

est effect on his mind, because he felt convinced (as he told me) that he should re

cover.

points proved to be correct, which is all that can be said of any polical prophets, who are just the class of prophets we have most power of testing. Under his unsparing pen we are shown a king without moral courage or greatness of soul; without any principle except to keep his ground and make money; Now it is said that he has shown signs one who made his kingdom a good speculaof religious feeling; at least, he has been tion, and turned every question into a job administré, and has confessed three times. for the advancement of his family; who The Abbé Petitot is constantly with him; would adopt any watchword that would suit and during his first interview said to him, Vous aves sans doute dans votre temps fait the time; who courted the mob till they beaucoup de plaisanteries contre la religion.' despised him, and yet aimed at their liber'Non,' replied Montrond, 'j'ai toujours vécu ties; who used all the arts of corruption in en bonne compagnie.' The declaration, the grossest forms; who adopted low means whether true or not (and it certainly is not to attain mean ends; who was absolutely true), showed very good worldly taste in the old gentleman."

"Wednesday 18th.-Montrond died this morning in what the Catholics call odeur de sainteté. He desired the crucifix to be placed at his bed's head, and would not suffer it to be removed. Peace to his manes!"Vol. iv. pp. 321, 322.

Louis Philippe is the third Frenchman whose portrait is elaborately drawn in these volumes, in hardly better colors than the others. Indeed, he is a fourbe far less to Mr. Raikes' mind, with his citizen manners and business-like grasp of money, than the high-bred polished old sinner, courted in all societies, and in his late years of decidedly Conservative bearings. When, in 1833, affairs went wrong with Mr. Raikes, when the bank with which he was connected became embarrassed, and (probably) his fortune impaired by private imprudence, he retired from the London world and set himself down before Louis Philippe, as it seems, for the main purpose of watching the proceedings of that monarch. And being an intimate with the Legitimist party, his subject makes a poor figure, and receives but bare justice at his hands. However, though his coloring may often be tinged by party feeling, we early learn to trust Mr. Raikes' facts. He i not only fairly honest by nature, but he evidently prides himself on the accuracy of his sources of information. As we have said before, he always went straight to the fountain-head. Subordinates were people he never wished to have anything to do with. His information was valued and trusted by his friends in office or opposition; and his judgment and anticipations on some main

[ocr errors]

without friends; who inspired no spark of loyalty; who had no one to love, no one to respect, no one to fear him; whose best qualities were only those of a shrewd préfet de police in keeping the peace by any means; and who, when he did public good, did it only for private ends. This is Mr. Raikes' view, and that of the party with whom he associated, and it is so far confirmed by experience that no king has so lost ground in general estimation since there has been time for history to sit in judgment upon him. We find Mr. Raikes very early premising

"There exists in no country in Europe a government so little respected abroad, or a king so little respected at home, as is the case in France at the present moment."

[graphic]
[ocr errors]

of the Citizen-King, above 100,000 troops "At this present moment, under the reign are occupied to keep in awe only three cities in this kingdom, Paris, Marseilles-and Lyons.

"Here indeed it seems the policy, when pretexts are wanting, to create artificial exbeen infested for the last six weeks with cuses for additional rigor. The town has wretched itinerant vendors of the most disgusting trash, and abuse against the royal family, the lowest species of caricatures. I watched them in the street; no one noticed them, none purchased their wares: it seemed indeed a most unprofitable trade; but still it was continued, without check on the one side, or encouragement on the other. I at last expressed my surprise to a friend at their impunity. Oh,' said he, it is an attrape; they are agents paid by the police, to sound the feelings of the multitude.' In a week afterwards came out a bill of the most sweeping nature against the public criers, interdicting them from selling even the public journals."-Vol. i. pp. 213, 214.

And again :

"Louis Philippe, though no ways wanting in that physical courage which would confront personal danger, is not endowed with that moral courage which can preserve coolness in difficult moments, and take advantage of events which present a threatening aspect. His course has always been of a more tortuous nature; and to effect his plans, he will always prefer the byeways of wily cunning to the straight road of manly resolution. He is notoriously designated as faux comme un jeton."-Vol. i. p. 314.

Later, he thus speaks of his private speculations taking precedence of the affairs of Government:

"In the midst of personal danger which never before impended over a crowned head, Louis Philippe thinks of nothing but heaping treasure upon treasure, and augmenting millions for himself and family.

"The other day a diplomate of high rank went to the Tuileries to impart some important dispatches just arrived from abroad; Louis Philippe treated the subject for about ten minutes, but he detained the visitor near three hours with a detail of the improvements he was making in his property; the canals he was forming, the price at which he sold his wood, and the whole economy of his management; all this with a dagger hanging over his head."—Vol. iii. p. 153.

Of his petty acts for saving his own money we read:

"A friend of mine told me that he had a beautiful portrait by Mignard, which he took an opportunity of offering to Louis Philippe, who is making a collection of that period, and for which he asked the moderate price of £500. His majesty made great objection to the sum, but still expressed a wish to see and examine the painting. It was sent to the Tuileries, where it was detained a few days, during which interval it was copied by a female artist, to whom the King gave 60f., and it was then returned to the owner." 99 Vol. ii. pp. 2, 3.

Of his enormous system of bribery with the public funds :

money,

those from the provinces are in such needy circumstances, that they can hardly afford the expense of a journey to Paris, or their stay during the meeting; such men are always on the watch to sell their votes. A sum of 500f. will very often decide them to support any measure: and when the case is urgent, the Government, with money, can always carry their point. You talk,' said he, of in England; but here the venality is more the profligate times of Sir Robert Walpole contemptible, because the times are more enlightened, the bribes are more insignificant, and the corruption more general. Casimir Perier, who squandered the public money in this way, when a deputy named his price, never offered him more than one half, and generally succeeded in his object. The primary object of Louis Philippe is to gain mere commercial speculation. and his accession to the throne was a In other monarchies, the private property of the sovereign is blended with his royal appanage, to crown; but Louis Philippe was determined support the splendor and dignity of his from the beginning to gain all he could, and give nothing in return. King of the French on the 7th August; on He was elected the previous day (the 6th,) he made over by a deed, drawn up by Dupin the lawyer, all his private property as Duke of Orleans, being five millions per annum, to his children, reserving the usufruct to himself; he enjoys the income of the Duc d'Aumale, gained from the Prince de Condé, till his majority, and his Civil List is from twelve to fourteen millions per annum. With these colossal means, the whole study of his life is to throw by every manoeuvre, his own incidental expenses on the shoulders of the nation. It is then only that he is really magnificent."Vol. iv. pp. 128-130.

It is a melancholy history of desperate, unflagging efforts to keep a position; and conveys the idea, in spite of Mr. Raikes, of great talent and energy. He seems to have stood alone, without even a party interested in his success, except so far as it implied the maintenance of public order. He was unpopular, and the perpetual mark of assassins; but this does not impress us so much "At Madame de Girardin's, this evening, as the indifference which all classes maniI had some conversation with M. Beugnot, a fested. He failed in all attempts to get up very intelligent and agreeable man. He de effects; he exhibited himself, and was not scribes to me the despicable state of the looked at; he condescended, and was laughed Chamber of Deputies under the present sys-at for his pains. He schemed, and suctem, guided solely by petty private interests, and open to bribery in every shape. The ceeded; and the plot recoiled upon him. King,' said he, if he was not so chary of his But it is time to pass on. money, might have a large majority on any question, if he pleased. The fact is, that

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Mr. Raikes' one hero is the Duke of Wellington; who, in return, was his very good

[graphic]

66.6

transact what can never be accomplished in Thirty minutes with him suffice to as many hours with our wavering ministers of France.'"-Vol. ii. pp. 69, 70.

friend, and would have got him some place | the point which has reference to himself, deor office if he could. His feelings, usually cided on the line which he feels authorized so absolutely under his control, assume an to take, and gives me an answer without any ambiguity. exaggerated tone when the Duke is his theme; and, with all his experience, we find him inditing sentences of horror and despair for his country, when the mob upon some occasion greeted the hero of Waterloo with hootings and clamor. In the midst of the fine gentlemen, the idlers, the dilletante politicians, the wary, cunning, selfish Frenchmen who people these pages, we must say the Duke stands out to great advantage; failing, like the rest, in his prognostics, but always honest and patriotic in his views, and simple in his mode of life, and full of sound sense and wisdom in the frankly-spoken reminiscences of his busy career. He was evidently a very agreeable companion: liked to talk and to listen, without a thought of display or showing-off on his part. Mr. Raikes records visits to him, where he always seems to have been treated with confidence and distinction, and which gave rise to the following estimate of his character:

His notices of the Duke embrace a long period; from the current stories of his boyhood, when he was not particularly attentive to his studies, and was constantly occupied with his little terrier "Vick," to his own later experience. His descriptions of the Duke's habits are in pleasant contrast with some of his other pictures of old age. He describes his indifference to his own comfort and accommodation, carried to such an extent, that, when his house was once full of company, he contentedly gave up his own bedroom to his son Charles (ignorant, of course, of the sacrifice,) and had a bed put up for himself in his dressing-room. Then we have his meals, and see him at breakfast, "eating heartily messes of rusks and bread sopped in his tea, but never meat or eggs; " and at "The more I see of this extraordinary dinner the same good appetite satisfying man, the more I am struck with his singu- itself by the same simple diet,-meat, rice, larly quick apprehension, the facility with and vegetables, mixed into a mess, filling his which he seizes the real gist of every subject, plate, and drinking very little wine. We separates all the dross and extraneous matter from the real argument, and places his finger find him subject to fits of testiness, but soon directly on the point which is fit to be con- getting over them; very jealous of interfersidered. No rash speculations, no verbiage, ence with his independent personal habits, no circumlocution; but truth and sagacity, but attentive to those of his guests, and esemanating from a cool and quickly appre- pecially courteous to ladies. When his hensive judgment fortified by great experi- party were only men, he dressed in boots; ence and conversant with each and every but the presence of a lady-if only Mr. subject, and delivered with a brevity, a frankness, a simplicity of manner, and a confiden- Raikes' young daughter,-made him assume tial kindness, which, without diminishing that the full state of shoes, silk stockings, star, and profound respect which every man must feel garter; when as Mr. Raikes expresses it, he for such a character, still places him at his was la vielle cour personnifiée. He was full ease in his society, and almost makes him of anecdote, told well but simply; without think he is conversing with an intimate friend. His whole mind seems engrossed by any attempt, it should seem, at point. His recollections were more varied than most the love of his country."-Vol. i. pp. 67, 68. men, and his opinions formed on his own ob Elsewhere we are told the impression he servation, not on the judgment of others. made on foreign diplomatists :People under his hand seem to have as "The Duke de Guiche told me this even-sumed rather a new aspect to his hearers. ing that Sebastiani was enchanted with our Duke of Wellington, whose frankness and activity in business were beyond all praise. His expression was, 'If I have anything to communicate to his Grace, I write to ask at what hour he will receive me. The hour is instantly appointed; I find him punctual as the clock, and, in half an hour he has heard my report, he has placed his finger on

because he had seen them under peculiar or

Thus he

more intimate circumstances.
brings George IV. before us as a sloven
This dandy, so fastidious in his dress that
every coat cost him £300 before it was fin-
ished, and was then too tight for an unre-
strained movement, indemnified himself in
private by dirt and disorder. The Duke

1

found him in bed, dressed in a dirty silk jacket and a turban night-cap, one as greasy as the other; for, notwithstanding his coquetry about dress in public, he was extremely dirty and slovenly in private." Vol.

iv. 292. p.

And, in like manner, this "finest gentleman in Europe" lapses into a clever mimic, -the Duke uses the word buffoon,-whose talents were lost to the stage; who, in a political crisis, would send his attendants and visitors into fits of laughter by accurate mimicry of all his ministers, in the act of giving in their resignation; and, in a state dinner of crowned heads, would entertain kings and queens by a display of this same accomplishment. The Duke's estimate of Napoleon is rather strikingly given. He always considered his presence as equal to 40,000 men. The French army was all that more formidable by the simple fact of his being at its head. We have some curious remembrances of Napoleon's generals, especially Junot, a vulgar fellow, to whom the Duke undertook to teach manners. After beating him in a battle, in which Junot was himself wounded, the Duke sent next day to inquire after his health, and sent him a present of fruit, as a lesson of the old school; -a lesson which was needed, to judge from one story he related of him :

made up his mind on difficult questions with great precision. Thus :

"After dinner the conversation turned on

the resemblance between the fate of the Stuarts and the Bourbons, though the circumstances which led to their fate were widely different, as no two men could be more dissimilar than Charles I. and the unfortunate Louis XVI. The Duke said, 'I have very much altered my opinion of the character of Charles I. I once thought him a man of reading Sanderson and Clarendon for the greater talent than he really was; but, since second time, I am convinced that he was obstinate without judgment; he first acted unwisely, and then persisted in his fault like a headstrong man. Charles II. was much the cleverer man, but a very bad king. It has been the fashion to say, that he was a Roman Catholic, but the fact is, that he was a profligate debauchee; and had no religion at all; he might have shown a tendency to that creed on his death-bed, but that is easily accounted for. James II., when Duke of York, showed courage and talent; his beginning was better than his end. He was certainly a Roman Catholic, but his bigotry in the commencement was founded on the idea that would better enable him to become a desPapistry, if once re-established in England, potic monarch than Protestantism. That was the real object of his heart, in which he was also strengthened by the counsels of Louis XIV. But the nation took the alarm; their Amongst the eminent Portuguese who he was once driven from the throne, he found religious scruples were awakened, and when were cruelly treated by the French during he had nothing left but to give himself up this invasion, was the Count Sa. Bandiera; in reality to all those bigoted ideas, by which and he gave me dreadful accounts of the he was only partly actuated before. Hence brutal excesses committed in his house by the came the saying, that he had lost three kingFrench officers who were quartered upon doms for one mass; but what he wanted was, him, and their continued drunkenness and to be a despot.""—Vol. iv. pp. 315–317. pillage. "Among these officers billeted him upon was the General Loison, who at one time was dangerously ill, and confined to his bed: Junot one morning sent for the unfortunate Bandiera, and asked him how the general was going on; as he could only answer that he was extremely ill, Junot knitted his brow, and said, 'Tenez, M. Bandiera, je vous conseille de bien prendre soin de lui; prenez bien garde qu'il se retablisse, car si le général vient à mourir dans votre maison, le diable m'emporte si je ne vous enterre pas tout vivant sous lui.' It may easily be supposed with what anxiety the poor Bandiera watched the recovery of General Loison, who fortunately at last was restored to health."-Vol. iv. pp. 312, 313.

66

The Duke was a reader, studied English history in his old age, and seems to have

Mr. Raikes, as usual, was possessed of the earliest facts about the battle of Waterloo, which was whispered about at dinners and balls before the truth was definitely known. It was in the aristocratic days before telewith his character of Sir R. W(Sir Robert grams. He gives the account in connection Wilson), whom he describes as always the harbinger of bad news:—

"On the day of that evening, when we received the news of the great victory at Waterloo, I dined with the present Lord and Lady Willoughby de Eresby in Piccadilly: there was a large party, among whom I remember Miss Mercer (now Madame de Flahault), Sir H. Cooke, and Sir R. W who entered the room with a grave portentous countenance, as if he knew more than he was willin

[graphic]

His mind could not entertain the idea now

to communicate. Every one at that time was | cial houses and bankers, who can well af in breathless impatience for the result, and as ford to pay the postage."-Vol. iii. p. 355. we proceeded to the dining-room Miss Mercer inquired of me in a whisper if I had heard any news, adding that she feared from Sir R. W's manner that some misfortune had occurred. I felt little alarm at his prognostics, as I had heard that Rothschild was purchasing stock largely, and that the funds had risen two per cent.

"When the ladies had retired and the wine had opened Sir R. W's heart, he condescended to inform the company, that he had received a private dispatch from Brussels, announcing the total defeat of the Anglo-Prussian army by the French, with the additional circumstance that Napoleon, after his decided victory, had supped with the Prince d'Aremberg at his palace in that city. On doubts being expressed as to the correctness of his information, he offered readily to bet any sum on the strength of his despatches. We took him at his word: I betted with him £400 or £500, and others did the same to the amount of above £1000.

expressed by progress: change must be de-
terioration: and this, because of the narrow
range of his sympathies-he could only feel
for one class. England was London: the
English people were the aristocracy. As
Addison says, "What so great a pedant as
the mere man of the town?" Is not this a
singular sentiment so come into an English-
mind, in witnessing antiquities
man's mind, in
abroad ?-

"Italy is the only real sanctuary of the arts in Europe. In viewing the wonders scattered so profusely on her surface, how do all the other nations appear barbarous and devoid of classical knowledge? France may boast her Versailles, and a few monuments copied from her neighbors; England has really nothing. If both these countries were buried in their own ruins for 1000 years, the antiquity of futurity would not find any thing worth the trouble of an excavation."—Vol. iii. p. 405.

:

"There was a ball that night at Sir George Talbot's; and when I arrived there about eleven o'clock, I found the whole house in confusion and dismay; ladies calling for Something on a par with this estimate of their carriages, and others fainting in the an- the architectural monuments of his country, te-room, particularly the Ladies Paget, who is his view of the manufacturing interests. seemed in the utmost distress. The mystery, In speaking of the death of Sir R. Arkhowever was soon cleared up: Lady Castle-wright: reagh had just made her appearance in the ball-room, with the official account of the battle, and a partial list of the killed and wounded, which had caused so much distress among the various relatives of the sufferers. She had been at a grand dinner given by Mrs. Boehm in St. James's Square, to the Prince Regent, during which Colonel Percy, having first driven to Carlton House, had arrived in a chaise and four at the house, and presented to his royal highness, at table, the official despatches from the Duke of Wellington (recounting his victory), as well as the French eagles, which he had brought as trophies with him in the carriage."-Vol. iii. pp. 46, 47.

News would not have been news to Mr. Raikes deprived of its exclusive characterthe possession at the same moment of all classes, and bestowing on no individual a peculiar distinction. In connexion with this feeling, we are rather amused with the summary judgment he passes on the proposed penny-postage :

"This will increase the number of idle scribblers, be of little benefit to the lower classes, who seldom have occasion to write and is likely only to advantage the commer

"His fortune, supposed to be five millions sterling, was entirely made by the spinning jennies, an invention which gave an immense impulse to the cotton manufactures; but which also caused distress among the wearing classes, which England now deplores."Vol. iv. p. 258.

But Paris and London are Mr. Raikes world. We will not pursue him in any uncongenial region. Indeed, it is time to take leave of him altogether; which we will do with a few miscellaneous anecdotes, which, though admitting of no classification, all leave a kindred impression. To begin with the religion of the old Dowager :

"The Dowager Duchess of Richmond is given over. I remember a story of her long ago, which, at the time, was often repeated.

She went one Sunday with her but being late, they could find no places; daughter to the Chapel Royal at St. James's after looking about some time, and seeing the case was hopeless, she said to her daughter, Come away, Louisa; at any rate we have done the civil thing.' This was com pletely the idea of the card-leaving dowager of her day."-Vol. iv. p. 201.

« ElőzőTovább »