On Sunday the Duc de Nemours arrived at the French Embassy, and Monday the poor Duchess de Montpensier, the innocent cause of all the trouble. No one knows where the Duchess de Nemours and her young children are, and the King and Queen are entirely missing. At one moment it is reported that he is drowned, and then, again, at Brussels.
To-day the French Embassy have received despatches announcing the new government, and Count Jarnac has immediately resigned. This made it impossible for the Duc de Nemours and the Duchess de Montpensier to remain at the Embassy, and they fell by inheritance to Mr. Van de Weyer, whose Queen is Louis Philippe’s daughter. The Queen has taken Louis Philippe’s daughter, Princess Clementine, who married Prince Auguste de Saxe-Coburg to the Palace, but for State Policy’s sake she can do nothing about the others. Mr. Van de Weyer offered Mr. Bates’s place of East Sheen, which was most gratefully accepted.
This morning came Thackeray, who is the soul of _Punch_, and showed me a piece he had written for the next number.
The King has arrived. What a crossing of the Channel, pea-jacket, woollen comforter, and all! The flight is a perfect comedy, and if _Punch_ had tried to invent anything more ludicrous, it would have failed. Panic, despotism, and cowardice.
These things are much more exciting here than across the water. We are so near the scene of action and everybody has a more personal interest here in all these matters. The whole week has been like a long play, and now, on Saturday night, I want nothing but repose. What a dream it must be to the chief actors! The Queen, who is always good and noble, was averse to such ignominious flight; she preferred staying and taking what came, and if Madam Adelaide had lived, they would never have made such a [word undecipherable] figure. Her pride and courage would have inspired them. With her seemed to fly Louis Philippe’s star, as Napoleon’s with Josephine. . . . Mr. Emerson has just come to London and we give him a dinner on Tuesday, the 14th. Several persons wish much to see him, and Monckton Milnes reviewed him in _Blackwood_.
DEAR W.: . . . Yesterday we dined at Lord Lansdowne’s. Among the guests were M. and Madam Van de Weyer, and Mrs. Austin, the translatress, who has been driven over here from Paris, where she has resided for several years. She is a vehement friend of Guizot’s, though a bitter accuser of Louis Philippe, but how can they be separated? She interests herself strongly now in all his arrangements, and is assisting his daughters to form their humble establishment. He and his daughters together have about eight hundred pounds a year, and that in London is poverty. They have taken a small house in Brompton Square, a little out of town, and one of those suburban, unfashionable regions where the most accommodations can be had at the least price. What a change for those who have witnessed their almost regal receptions in Paris! The young ladies bear very sweetly all their reverses. . . . Guizot, himself, I hear, is as _fier_ as ever, and almost gay. Princess de Lieven is here at the “Clarendon,” and their friendship is as great as ever.