From Memoir and Letters of Lady Mary Arundell

CHRISTMAS of 1828 found the Duke of Bucking­ham, Bishop Baines and the Arundells still in Rome. On Tuesday, Dec. 22nd, the duke went with his sister to the Villa Doria Pamfili, thought the view of Rome and St. Peter’s from the road up the hill the finest existing, and in the evening dined with the Arundells. On Christmas Day he wrote in his private diary: “This morning, at half-past eight o’clock, I proceeded to the Church of St. Maria Mag­giore, and, by the kindness of Bishop Baines, I was placed within the rails of the high al­tar, where a chair was provided for me, arid a carpet to put my feet upon, as the church was very cold. The Pope was borne over our heads, giving the Papal bene­diction as he went along, all kneeling as he approached. All Protestants paid him the same respect which we pay our own sovereign; and at the same time, it was impos­sible not to feel towards his venerable and mildly pious presence the additional respect due to the head of the oldest Christian religion on earth. He looked depressed and feeble—and well he might, for this was the third Mass he had performed since twelve o’clock on the preceding night, and, when he had finished this, he had strictly and literally fasted for thirty-six hours… The moment when the Pope elevated the Host, when the whole church was silent and all upon their knees, was one of great awe and religious feeling; and the pious, mild manner of the old Pope, absorbed evidently in the devotion of the moment, was very expressive. At this instant all the bells of the city rang out to give notice of the holy act.”

Leo XII. had not then long to live. On Feb. 8th and 9th we find the duke sending to the Vatican to enquire about the Pope’s health, a rumour having got about on the former day that he was ill. Then comes the entry, on Feb. 13th: “I went to see the Pope lying in state in the chapel of the Holy Sacrament in St. Peter’s;” then the duke himself says of him, “He was very strict in the application of the public money; he found the treasury empty, and he has left it full. He found the state overwhelmed with debt, great part of which he has paid off. He did much to reform the state of the city. He forced the people to be cleanly, to whitewash their houses, and to remove the ac­cumulated filth every night.”

The duke went several times to St. Peter’s during the obsequies, which lasted a week, and took great interest in the approaching conclave. Then he writes: “This week we hear of the king’s speech, recommending the removal of the Catholic disabilities. God be praised that I have lived to see this day! The Foreign Ministers already shew, by their altered tone, the opinion they entertain of the effect which this event will have upon British interests.”

During the conclave, which lasted more than five weeks, the Arundells spent a week in retreat. “March 22nd, drove with my sister. She goes into a convent to-morrow for a week’s devotion. This is a common custom with Catholics at this season. Lord Arundell goes into a monastery, I suspect shrewdly against his will.” “March 29th, my sister and Lord Arundell called upon me, having come out of their retirement—she in a convent, he in the Jesuits’ College. I asked Bishop Baines whether these observances were prescribed by the Catholic Church. He said no; they were recommended, but by no means enforced. When devout persons go in they subscribe to all their monastic rules, except their dinner, which is sent in to them. They have a certain number of meditations per diem given them to study, and they see no society.” “31st. This morning 100 guns from St. Angelo announced the election of the Pope,” Cardinal Castiglione ascending the throne as Pius VIII. The coronation took place on April 5th, Passion Sunday, the duke attending all the various ceremonies at the Vatican, as also those of the succeeding Holy Week.

“May 14th. Went by appointment to the Vati­can, with Mr. Restner [the Hanoverian Minister]. Had an audience of the Pope—a shrewd, clear, sharp-eyed, active-minded man. Full of the Catholic Question… He bade us sit down, and seemed glad to chat with us… His reception of me was not so courtly as Leo XIIth’s but more hearty and cordial… I then, according to etiquette, called upon the Cardinal Secretary of State.” “15th. Went to the Vatican with my sister, and visited the pictures… Went to take a last look at St. Peter’s, and sat in that silent and magnificent temple for upwards of two hours. I took leave of it with regret. May 16th. Left Rome with regret.”

The duke traversed Italy by easy stages, and after visiting its chief cities, and spending a couple of days on Lago Maggiore, which he reached in the month of August,[i] proceeded along the valley of the Tosa to Domo d’Ossola, and passed over the Simplon into Switzerland, reaching England before the end of September. The Arundells spent the next few months in Rome and returned to England during the Autumn, after spending some two years in the Eternal City, the certificate of the sacramental confession which Lady Arundell made on her pilgrimage to the shrine of the Apostles, being dated Rome, 23rd Nov., 1827.[ii]

If any excuse were needed for the Arundells spending so much time abroad, they had it over and above stress of fortune in the fuller enjoyment of the privileges of religion most dear to every Catholic soul, denied them at home but found abroad, and in the bar raised by prejudice and his country’s laws against a Catholic landowner or peer wielding his natural influence for good in the State. A glance at the “Laity’s Directory” for the year 1828 (the earliest we have in the college library), will soon show us that Catholicity in Eng­land held a very different position then from what it does now. In London, Catholic Chapels were few enough; in Liverpool there were five, in Manches­ter only three, while such towns as Leeds, Preston; Sheffield, Newcastle and Glasgow possessed but one small chapel apiece, hid away, like almost all the others in the country, in bye-lanes and back alleys. In the whole of Wales there were but six Catholic Chapels; in Northamptonshire, in Cam­bridgeshire and many other counties, and in large towns like Huddersfield, Halifax, Dewsbury and Chesterfield, there was none at all; in Wiltshire there were three, one of them being Wardour, where was stationed the Rev. R. Parker. At many of the principal places of worship, instead of the an­nouncement of Mass, it is intimated in the “Direc­tory to the Church Service” that there are “prayers at 11 o’clock on Sundays;” at Reading for instance, “Prayers at 11 in the morning and 3 in the after­noon; “at Cheltenham,” Prayers on Sundays at 11, and on Wednesdays and Fridays at 9;” at Leek, “Prayers once a month;” at Walsall, “Prayers at 11 in the morning and 6 in the after­noon;” at Derby, “Prayers every Sunday at a quarter past 10 o’clock.”[iii]

In the Catholic Emancipation Act itself, its long fought for and tardily conceded rights—were not unac­companied by unjust and galling restrictions still to this day unrepealed. Thus in the famous Bill of 1829, intituled:—“An act for the Relief of His Majesty’s Roman Catholic Subjects,” we read “…And be it further enacted, that if any Jesuit or member of any such religious order, community, or society as aforesaid, shall, after the commencement of this act, come into this realm, he shall be deemed and taken to be guilty of a misdemeanour, and being thereof lawfully convicted, shall be sentenced and ordered to be banished from the United Kingdom for the term of his natural life… And be it further enacted, that in case any Jesuit or member of any such religious order, community, or society as aforesaid, shall, after the commencement of this act, within any part of the United Kingdom, admit any person to become a regular ecclesiastic, or brother, or member of any such religious order, community, or society, or be aiding or consenting thereto, or shall administer or cause to be ad­ministered, or to be aiding or assisting in the administration or taking any oath, vow, or engage­ment, purporting or intended to bind the person taking the same to the rules; ordinances, or ceremonies of such religious order, community, or society, every person offending in the premises, in England or Ireland, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanour, and in Scotland shall be punished by fine and imprisonment.

“And be it further enacted, that in case any person shall, after the commencement of this act, within any part of this United Kingdom, be admitted or become a Jesuit, or brother, or member of any other such religious order, community, or society, as aforesaid, such person shall be deemed and taken to be guilty of a misdemeanour, and being thereof lawfully convicted, shall be sentenced and ordered to be banished from the United Kingdom, for the term of his natural life.”

By the passing however of the Catholic Emancipa­tion Act in the spring of 1829, the position of Lord Arundell was altogether changed. Then for the first time in their lives the eight English Peers who alone had kept the Faith since the days of the Reformation, were able to enter the House of Lords and take their seats as legislators.

In the journal of the House of Lords, II George IV, on the Assembly of Parliament on 4th Feb., 1830, we read, “This day James Everard Lord Arundell of Wardour, sat first in Parliament; his Lordship having first, at the Table, taken and sub­scribed the Oath appointed to be taken by the Act of the Tenth Year of the Reign of His present Majesty by Peers professing the Roman Catholic Religion.” The Duke of Norfolk, Lords Dormer and Clifford, had already taken their seats on the 28th of April, 1829, and Lords Stourton, Petre and Stafford on the 1st of May. There are those, however, now living, who well remember the observa­tion made when on some occasion about this time all the Catholic peers walked in together, amongst them being Lords Clifford and Arundell, two fine, tall, handsome men, “What a pity we have so long excluded from our deliberations such a fine-looking set of men!”[iv]

The first great measure that occupied Lord Arundell’s attention in Parliament was the Reform Bill, and as the following extract from the Annals of the Wiltshire Yeomanry shows, the vote he gave soon brought him into collision with his former friends and comrades in arms. “The country was, however, as a whole, strongly in favour of Reform, and political feeling ran so high that a mutiny nearly occurred in the Salisbury troop, because Lord Arundell had voted against the Bill. A remonstrance, signed by Sergeant-Major Peniston and thirty troopers, was forwarded to him. Mr. Everett took Lord Arundell’s part very strongly, and so much unpleasantness was the result that he eventually judged it prudent to resign. The dissensions were composed by the exertions of Mr. Peniston, Sen., though not before eight troopers had left. Lord Arundell seems to have taken this unruly proceeding very much to heart, as he apparently decided on resigning at the very first opportunity, and did in fact do so the following year.”

In thus voting against the popular measure, which many leading Catholics supported, against their inclination, out of a desire to show some gratitude for the passing of the Relief Bill, Lord Arundell of Wardour found himself alone, for “In the House of Lords, all the Catholic peers, (except one, Lord Arundell,) voted for the Reform Bill and in the House of Commons, all the Catholic members (except one, Sir T. A. Constable), voted, in the same way” (Courier, quoted in Cath. Mag. for Nov., 1831).

Lady Arundell’s own sentiments about the measure may be best gathered from a letter she wrote from Stowe, Aug. 23rd, 1830, to her friend Mr. Phillips:—“I dread the poor peasantry this autumn, when harvest work is over, and when their distresses all unredressed will induce them to repeat the scenes of last year, with the benefit of experience to teach them how to act better, and how to employ the power which last year showed them the extent of. At least in Wiltshire, Hampshire, and this county, the only ones with whose state I am acquainted, I know not what is to prevent them. Nor do I view the probable conduct of our tenantry so favourably as you do. Experience in these three counties at least shews me that with few exceptions the farmers are a brutal, unfeeling race, whose hardheartedness to the poor has chiefly caused their distress, and whose avarice and obstinacy now refuse to aid their landlords in relief. They hate us because we are the friends of the poor and because we expose their cruelty. Money is their idol; to secure this they cheat us if they can and tyrannise over the peasant. Nowhere in fact is there a class equal to the English labourer. But my paper will not let me proceed, and Lord A. has restricted me to this sheet. But I conjure you not to think me an anti-reformer and to remember I am Lord Nugent’s sister, though not going all the length of my brother, for I am not for the whole bill. Lord A. is nearer to anti-reform, being against more of the clauses than I am, still he is anti-borough to the heart. All must agree that boroughs are crying abuses and will I trust be annihilated.”

During their visit to Rome the Arundells had made, as we have seen, the acquaintance of Ambrose de Lisle Phillips, of Garendon Park, Leicestershire, who had been received into the Church at Christ­mas of 1825, and who had since been studying at Trinity College, Cambridge. The following letter was written to him by Lady Arundell some time after her return to England:­—

“Wardour Castle,

“April 14th, 1830.

“My Dear Mr. Phillips,—You might perhaps be flattered at the expressed wish of a young lady to recall herself to your recollection, but I can hardly hope that the same wish expressed by an old one, will have the same effect. Still, I am willing to think that a letter from me will not altogether be unwelcome to you, and that you have not forgotten the assurances you so kindly made me in Rome that to hear of me and of the continuation of my friendship would always give you pleasure. And though I speak only in the singular, Lord Arundell fully shares in these feelings of regard and in my wish to hear of you. Indeed, that we have lately done through the medium of the public papers, which have been busy with your name in this late signal triumph of truth, the conversion of Mr Spencer. A reverend relation too of your own has dragged you forward with more zeal than discretion, and with an intemperance which certainly neither does good to his cause nor convinces his readers that Bp. Ryder did not argue and was not defeated by ‘a boy of 20.’ Do, if you have leisure or inclin­ation to write, let me have some account of this to me so deeply interesting a transaction, and be assured that I shall not put your letter in the Papers. We have been in England these six months, and have been passing a very quiet Lent and Easter by our own fire-side; but not all the charms of home have reconciled me to the loss of Rome, nor to the sad difference of the mutilated Catholicity of England, after the luxury of the religious ceremonies which the Eternal City presents in their most im­posing forms. The chapel here used to appear to me spacious and handsome, now it is diminutive and mean, and our poor attempt at ceremonies and forms only add to my regret that I am no longer at the fountain head of Catholicity.[v] Still wretched as it is, what a pleasure it would be to us to shew it to you! We are now I think likely to leave home soon for a very few days of London, and then through a tour of family visits, but in the summer or autumn we shall be here again. Would it then be possible to tempt you to come to us?

“I conclude you have correspondents in Rome who will have told you of our English Cardinal, and of the flattering manner to us English Catholics in which His Holiness expressed himself, when he invested Cardinal Weld with his dignity. I hear occasionally from dear Fr. Glover, one of the objects of my deepest regrets in leaving Rome. I hope your dear little sister has not forgotten me. Give my best love to her, and when you can whisper in her ear, tell her that I never forget her in my daily prayers, all unworthy as they are, and specially when I have the happiness to receive the Holy Communion, and that all I ask for her is courage to embrace and to persevere in the truth.­

“You have not, 1 trust, forgotten the promise you made me to give me a place in your prayers. Adieu, my dear Mr. Phillips, we shall I trust meet in a better world than this, but en attendant, I wish I could look forward to a few rendezvous in this. Lord Arundell desires his very kindest regards, and pray give our united compliments to your father, Ever believe me,

“Your sincerely affectionate

“M. Arundell.”

Again she wrote:­

“Wardour Castle, Shaftesbury,

“Monday, June 4th, 1832,

“My dear Mr. Phillips,—It was indeed a delight to me to hear from Lord Arundell that you so kindly had agreed to come to us, for how much have I anxiously longed to see you again! Any day that you will fix will suit us. Lord A, thinks that you mentioned Saturday next, the 9th; but as I do not place great reliance on what he thinks after passing five hurried days in that Babel London, whence he is returned with his head in as great a chaos of business, politics and friends whom he did see and others whom he could not manage to see, as the town itself, I think it prudent to ask you if such is your intent, and to assure you, though I feel convinced that no such assurances are necessary, of the heartiest possible welcome on Saturday or any other day that you will name, only I trust that you will make arrangements for a long visit, for we are insatiable with our friends. I should be specially glad if you came on Saturday, as on the next day, Whit-Sunday, a friend of mine who is here, Mrs. Robert Tichborne, makes her first Communion in our Chapel. She is a very zealous convert, received a month ago into the Church, and will, I think, prove a most valuable member of Christ’s flock, and I need not say that I should like you to be present. At all events, let me beg your prayers for her. Adieu, my dear Mr. Phillips, not I trust for many days.

“Ever your sincerely affectionate

“M. Arundell.”

——

“Wardour Castle.

“Saturday, June 9th, 1832.

“My Dear Mr. Phillips,—You must not think me such a formal body as to resent your not having answered my letter for a few days. I give you now a proof of it in not having written yesterday, and to-day there is no post; but as I shall have but little time to-morrow, I will not delay telling you that we are delighted to find that you can come to us next week, and as you mention Friday or Saturday allow me to fix the first day, as I will not lose 24 hours of you if I can help it. On the 15th, then, I shall expect you; as it is Friday, we shall dine too early for you probably to arrive here from town, but there shall be either fish or meat ready for you at whatever hour you arrive, What a glorious beginning is now taking place in Paris, wretched devoted town! and how wonderfully are all the prophecies accomplishing of the miserable Louis Philippe. It is said Il nourra d’une mort tragique. What appears so likely. Adieu; by the time we meet, perhaps great events will have taken place. I rejoice in the proposed establishment at Loughboro’! You will be the first founder or rather restorer of monastic institutions in this wretched country, such is MY prophecy. Mark my words.­ Our best regards to Mr. Phillips.

“Ever your affectionate

“M. Arundell.”

It will be remembered that when an exile at Stowe, the Comte d’Artois, now Charles the Tenth of France, had been enamoured of the daughter of his host the Duke of Buckingham, and had sought her hand in marriage. He had now been on the throne but six short years, when already it began to totter to its fall. It was a well-known saying of Burke at the very outset of the Revo­lution, that if the deposed race was ever to be restored, it must be by a sovereign who could sit eight hours a day on horseback. To the prospects of Charles X. no advantage seemed wanting. As the historian of this period avers, “No captain in his guards managed his charger with more skill and address, or exhibited in greater perfection the noble art of horsemanship; no courtier in his saloons was more perfect in all the graces which dignify manners, and cause the inequalities of rank to be forgotten in the courtesy with which their distinctions are thrown aside. He was princely courtesy personified. None could withstand the fascination of his manner. His heart was warm, his benevolence great, his charity unbounded. He sincerely desired the good of his people, and had the greatest wish for their affection.” Yet none of these qualities saved him from irretrievable ruin and disaster.

It was on the morning of the 4th of August, 1830, that the noble-hearted King took leave of his Guard at the splendid seat of the family of Noailles at Maintenon, where he had halted for the night on the road to Cherbourg, thence to take sail for England. “The whole Guard was drawn up in the park and on the road as the royal cortége passed them, and they presented arms for the last time to the sovereign. No words can express the emotion which was felt on both sides. His faults, his imprudences, were forgotten in the magnitude of his fall; they saw only their monarch in misfortune, and the last of along race of sovereigns, with his whole family, driven into exile by his own subjects. Grief swelled every heart; few dry eyes were seen in the vast and noble array. The countenance of the King was sad, but calm; conscious of the purity of his intentions, he submitted to the chastisement of Providence with the resignation of a martyr. The Duchess d’Angoulême, inured to suffering, appeared to rise in dignity and heroism, amidst all the disasters which surrounded her. The Duchess de Berri, in male attire, and with her children in her hand, seem­ed scarce able to comprehend more than they the magnitude of the stroke which had deprived them of their inheritance. The King at length was melted into tears, and not a dry eye remained in the ranks when the royal infants were, for the last time, pre­sented to their aching eyes. At Cherbourg, the carriages did not stop in the town, but passed on at once to the place of embarkation, from which the crowd were excluded by barricades. On descending from the carriage, at the place of embarkation, the whole royal family burst into tears; the infants even, unconscious as yet what they were losing, wept bitterly, Such was the emotion of the Duchess d’Angoulême that she sank in a swoon. M. de la Rochejaquelein aided her to step on board and leave her country for ever. At least, the last arm on which she rested was that of one of the noblest of its sons. M. de Charette, another Vendean officer, whose name was a presage alike of heroism and misfortune, con­ducted the Duchess de Berri. Charles himself, who alone retained his self-possession, was the last who stepped on board-like the captain who, on a shipwreck, sees all the crew out of the vessel before he leaves it himself. The few faithful officers who yet attended him then kissed his hand, which they bathed with their tears. The discrowned sovereign then shut himself up in his cabin to Con­ceal his emotion. The Great Britain packet-boat had the honour of conveying the illustrious exiles. Not a gun was fired as the last of the long line of sovereigns left his country.” (Aug. 16th, 1830.)

One of the first to welcome the royal exiles on British shores was Lady Arundell, and she shall narrate herself the details of this heartrending interview.

The following is a letter from Lady Arundell to her husband’s sister, the Hon. Mrs. Doughty, Upton House, Poole, dated Shaftesbury, August 27th, 1830, regarding the French royal family, which has very fortunately been preserved but not hitherto published… “Your exertions, and good kind-hearted Doughty’s, were not thrown away upon my poor friends; they expressed themselves warmly and repeatedly on the kindness they experienced; nothing seemed to have been overlooked, the jolie maison, the jardin, the charmant enfant, the déjeuner si bien arrangé, l’amabilité de vos sœurs, cette petite Kitty, dont je me souviens à Hartwell. It seemed quite to revive the poor Dauphine to talk about it, and the King largely expatiated on la prévenance de cet aimable Mr. D., and how much he felt obliged by the loan of the carriage. Good heavens, those Ministers to make no arrangements for landing anywhere. Yesterday we were off at 7 a.m., breakfasted at half-past nine at Bland­ford, saw Mrs. Arundell preparing with an aching heart for a second day of races and dancing, and after three hours more thro’ heavy bad roads and a detestable country, bleak dreary moors, arrived at Lulworth. The park entered by that side is certainly fine, but it is gloom itself. I never saw a more dismal place, even to our English eyes; what then must it be to the poor French! I turned so sick and shook so much as I walked up the steps, dreading the interview so completely that I would have for a moment given anything to run away. At the door they took up our cards to the Duchesse de Gontaut, who acts Dame d’honneur, in the absence of the real one, and ushered us into the great drawing room, but it being empty I had a moment to recover myself; then entered a valet de chambre: S. A. R. la Dauphine va descendre elle-même, du haut l’escalier, elle m’a demandé les cartes, elle a fait un cri et elle descend:—he could hardly end, when the King and Dauphin ran down the steps from the upper end I rushed forward and the dear Old Man, who was quite composed and cheerful, led me to the window, holding both my hands and thro’ my sobs I heard nothing but, allons Marie, quand on a la conscience bonne on ne s’afflige de rien; and I had hardly listened to that when my tears redoubled at the sight of the Dauphiness, who fell on my neck for an instant weeping bitterly, but the next moment her usual heroism returned and she was calm, but during the hour she stayed with us, to look at her was heartbreaking, for I see that the iron has entered into her soul. She is haggard, pale, except a flushed spot on each cheek, and as she talked of France and of her dreadful journey, all her fortitude for a moment gave way and several times she shed tears and her voice faltered. The D^sse de Berri was gone faire des emplettes à Wareham! and to see poor Mons. and Mme. Charette, who have been obliged to take a wretched lodging there, for the misfortune of Lulworth is that not only is it much too small and they are wretchedly crowded, but there is no accommodation in the neighbourhood. They spoke in praise of Mr. Weld’s civility, but tho’ they did not complain, still they are evidently very uncomfor­table. The King had written in answer to my offer of Wardour the kindest of answers, expressing his regret that this decision of Lulworth put it out of his power to do what he wished, but that he promised should his as yet undecided plans end in remaining in England beyond the time for which Lulworth is engaged, he would certainly accept our chateau, and this promise he renewed by word of mouth as soon as I became decent and composed. The Dauphiness and the King putting me between them on a sofa, then the Dauphin making Evd. sit next to him on two chairs opposite, they all began the most unreserved conversation with us, no attendant being in the room. The King seems quite resigned and even not to regret his throne; he said I only regret the few good people that still remain in that malheureux pays. My throne I cannot regret, for it was accompanied by endless cares and anxieties. I now have none; magnificence and luxury I do not regret. I long have thought them a bad people, a nation demoralised, that could be ruled only with a bras de fer. Bonaparte only could govern them, so it was penible to me to govern them and it is happiness a’en être débarrassé et de pouvoir s’occuper du ciel.—C’est là, Sire, qu’une couronne vous attend.—J’essayerai de la gagner, et en attendant, je me sens heureux d’avoir ma liberté. Sire, la dernière fois que j’eus l’honneur de voir V. M. a Paris, vous me disiez que vous portiez une couronne a’épines et que vous regrettiez Londres et Hartwe Combien j’ai pensé a ces mots depuis. C’est vrai, I often regretted England. All that I now feel is for the poor people who may suffer for the attachment they have shown me, for France is not quiet yet, and for the poor souls who have followed me here and whom I may not always be able to support. Then he talked of d’Orléans, but with so much more of pity than of anger that it was beautiful; that he suffered himself to be the tool of the Republicans, who would sacrifice him when they wanted him no longer—pourtant il a fait bien mal, il a long temps tramé contre moi et il a saisi le premier moment pour se déclarer et se prêter a tout ce qu’on désirait. Then he pitied the D^sse d’Orléans, who was, he said, an excellent woman, and who utterly con­demned all this affair, and how she must suffer to see her sons brought up in these principles. In all this the Dauphin joined, but he spoke with bitter aigreur against the French nation. He seems resigned and cheerful but much more irri­tated; in fact he is a younger man than the King. He naturally looked to several years of a throne. The King has not many more years to live in the course of nature and seems to me to look upon all ill this world as perfect dross. What a place he will have in our happy valley. After a long dis­cussion the Dauphiness said, envoyons pour nos enfants, Marie et Lord A. aimeroient les voir, and in bounded the heir of a long race of kings, whom I had last seen in the cradle of luxury, surrounded by guards and attendants! He is much grown and improved, looks very healthy, and tho’ retaining the likeness in the upper part of his face to his dear father, is getting also like the King. I think he may turn out handsome and very well made and active. He has for a child a very good manner, and his sister who came in more gravely, followed by the D^sse de Gontaut, has a most winning manner, and in very good English said how glad she was to see me, and squeezing herself into the couch by my side talked and quite won my heart. After some time they went out to walk and we again set in for discussion on Spain and France again.

My brother Ld. Nugent had been on Wednesday and seemed to have given great satisfaction. The King talked of him with all the affection he used to feel. So I trust his letter has escaped their notice. At two they were going to walk, and we waited for our carriage with the D. de Luxembourg who would not let us go, so anxious was he for a gossip, and I foresee he is not likely to remain long with the King (between ourselves) or to sacrifice aught in his cause. From him I learnt all he knew about my friends in France, all of whom seem safe. The Dauphiness told me of poor M de. de Damas at her country house, near Nevers, nursing her husband who is failing fast, and whose head already weakened would, they fear, quite give way under this blow, as well as the D. de Gramont at his house at St. Germains. Her old friend Madame d’Agoull in Paris is coming to her immediately which will be a great comfort to the Dauphiness, for in fact they have not an old friend about them. At parting the King renewed his promise to us of living here should he stay the winter, and the Dauphiness told me she wished it much and made me describe it to her. In fact from Luxembourg’s account of their crowded state dans ce riche chateau they almost dread having to pass a month there. I am going to send my pony carriage and ponies, as the Dauphiness and children have no means of getting about the park, and if I hear of a lady’s horse, I am going to send one with my side-saddle, for riding is necessary for her. If I can get two tant mieux, for there ought to be one for her lady-in-waiting. I am still quite upset by this visit, and returned last night dead in body and mind, at 8 p.m. But my foot is better and I am quite well except in mind and heart.

“Adieu, dearest Katty. Love to Laura, Dough­ty, Col. Mc.D.

“Ever your most affectionate Sister.”