Gleanings in Europe

A little circumstance that is scarce worth mentioning has drawn me from my privacy, and induced me to appear at the court of Tuscany. When the resolution to be presented, was taken, a letter was addressed to the great chamberlain, with a request to have an audience of the grand duke, and of the princesses of the family, of whom there are three of an age to have establishments; and I received an answer that I should be presented on the occasion of a festival that was at hand, when there was to be a grand drawing-room. Accordingly, the sword, and steel buttons, and lace were early provided; for I was given to understand that these were indispensable paraphernalia. Were the thing to be done over again, I should ask permission to appear in the full dress of my own country: for if a Turk can be received in this manner, why not an American? My attire, however, was not much out of the ordinary way, being merely a black coat, breeches, and vest, with lace at the cuffs and frills, steel buttons and a sword, with a dress hat. Still, I make no doubt, had a proper representation been made, I might have been received precisely as one goes to the White House; for the rule is, that each person shall appear in the full dress of his own country.

As we have no minister in Italy, I escaped the necessity of offering an apparent slight; for in no ordinary circumstances would I be presented by an American minister: it is not his duty, and one can get along quite as well without him as with him. I did think of asking the minister of Russia to do me this favour, for he would have been the most natural substitute for one of our own; but, on reflection, I determined to put myself altogether in the hands of the regular officer of the court.

The great chamberlain, the Marchese Corsi, had directed me to be at the Pitti at an early hour in the evening, where I was to inquire for him. The King of England is lodged much less like a monarch than the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who inhabits a palace fit for an emperor, although it was originally constructed, or rather commenced, by a merchant. As every one is admitted to see its pictures, I had often been in the building; but this was the first occasion on which I had entered the regular reception-rooms.

Of course I was punctual, and on descending the great stairs, I found them, the galleries, and the ante-chambers crowded with lackeys in the royal liveries. Beyond these, again, was a party of the noble guards, a sort of gardes du corps; and still farther in advance, was a room in which the young pages of honour, sons of the first houses of Tuscany, were amusing themselves after the fashion of their time of life, with certain practical jokes on each other. One of these was the young Baron ——, the owner of our own palazzo, and, although just at the moment he was very busy in exercising his wit on one of his companions, he no sooner recognised me, than he good-naturedly abandoned his fun to come and offer his services. I told him I wished to find the Marchese Corsi, and he pointed to one of the chamberlains of the court as the person to whom I ought to apply.

I saw through the long vista of rooms, that a crowd was present, and that every body was in high dress. The chamberlain to whom I applied was in scarlet, and seemed to be in waiting for stray courtiers like myself. As soon as I preferred my request to be conducted to Signor Corsi, he asked me, with a little point of manner, if I were an American. The answer was in the affirmative, of course, and, for a rarity, my national character appeared to be in my favour. This gentleman very obligingly led the way through two or three large rooms full of courtiers, and presented me to the grand chamberlain, who was in a small apartment that contained merely a dozen people. After a short conversation, I was desired to wait a little, for the appearance of the royal family. On looking round, I perceived that my companions were the secretaries of the different legations, and as I knew several of them, we fell into discourse. I observed that my presence caused a little surprise, and apprehensive that it was my duty to retire to the crowd in the outer room, I took an opportunity to question an English acquaintance on the subject. From this gentleman I learned that my presence in this particular room was a little out of rule. He said this delicately, but with sufficient distinctness. The family was in an apartment still farther removed from the crowd, where it was in the practice of receiving the heads of the different legations; and the subordinates, with the ministers of state, had their place in the little room in which we then were. My informant added, that several of his countrymen were among the courtiers, waiting to be presented. This information was no sooner obtained, than, supposing I had misunderstood M. Corsi, I withdrew.

In a minute, however, I was summoned back to the side of the great chamberlain, who told me that the grand duke was about to enter the room. I explained my error, by intimating that I had been led to suppose myself where I ought not to be. On this hint, the great chamberlain indirectly, but very politely, gave me to understand that he was master of the ceremonies at the court of Tuscany, and no one else. Of course I had no objection to make, and was resigned to my honour. But at this moment the Count Fossombrone, the first minister of state, a respectable old man of an excellent character, entered, and took his station near the door. The rest of us were ranged in a circle, the Marchese Corsi nearest to the premier, and I at his elbow.

You probably know that the Grand Duke of Tuscany is also an Austrian Archduke. The scale is so graduated, that I believe he ranks higher, as a cadet of the Imperial House, than as sovereign of this beautiful and respectable little state. At any rate, his usual style is that of His Imperial and Royal Highness, Leopold, &c. &c. His sister and daughters are also styled Archduchesses; although the latter are as yet mere children.

Tuscany came into the possession of the House of Austria by an arrangement with France. At the death of John Gaston, the last of the Medici, in 1737, Louis XV. succeeded, as the descendant of Maria di Medici, the wife of Henry IV. About the same time, Francis, the reigning Duke of Lorraine, had married the heiress of the Hapsbourgs, and was elected Emperor of Germany. Lorraine lying within the Rhine, at a short distance from Paris, and since the conquest of Alsace actually enclavé by the French territory, it was very desirable to possess it. The death of John Gaston offered a favourable occasion, and the family of Lorraine, durably transferred to the thrones of Austria, consented to exchange its ancient states for those of Tuscany. As regards extent and richness of territory and population, France made a hard bargain; but high political considerations balanced the account. Tuscany was remote, while the possession of Lorraine threw back the eastern and most vulnerable frontier of the kingdom at once to the Rhine.

The marriage of Francis, moreover, would have left the future head of the house of Austria in occupation of a territory almost in the heart of France, without this arrangement, or a violent seizure. France stipulated that Tuscany should never be merged in Austria, as a state, however, but that it should be governed by a cadet of the family. Thus, when Joseph II. died without issue and was succeeded by his brother Leopold, then Grand Duke of Tuscany, the second son of the latter, Ferdinand, became sovereign of Tuscany. His son Leopold II. is the reigning duke; and, of course, he is a nephew of the emperor, and stands next in succession to the Imperial throne, after the two sons of the emperor, and before the Archdukes Charles, John, Regnier, Anthony, &c., &c., &c. Thus, though we are about to see the sovereign of Tuscany, it is an event by no means improbable that he may one day become Emperor of Austria, as happened to his grandfather, and predecessor in the grand duchy.

I had hardly come to an understanding with the Signor Corsi, when the members of the family entered the little room in which we were ranged. The grand duke, a man of good stature and of an amiable countenance, came first. He was dressed in the uniform of an Austrian officer, or in a white coat and scarlet pantaloons, embroidered in gold, with military boots; and he wore the star and badge of the Golden Fleece, &c. He appeared to be about thirty.

On entering the room he addressed himself to Count Fossombrone, his minister, with whom he conversed a few minutes. He then turned with a look of inquiry to the Marchese Corsi, who made a sign to me, mentioned my name, and retired a few steps. The conversation lasted about five minutes, commencing with the usual questions as to my route, the length of time I had been in Florence, and civil expressions of satisfaction at seeing me at his court: it was held in French. The grand duke left on my mind a strong impression of integrity of character; a quality far more to be prized than any other. One proof of the simplicity and justness of his mind was so striking, and so very different from what I had just escaped from in Paris, that it deserves to be recorded. “They tell me you are the author of many books,” he said; “but as it has never been my good fortune to meet with them, I can say no more to you on the subject, than that I have heard them well spoken of by those who have.” Here was a civil thing, united with an honesty that did equal credit to his tact and his truth. He left me with renewed expressions of his satisfaction at seeing me at his court, and then made the circuit of the secretaries and attachés.

While the grand duke was talking to me, the two grand duchesses, and the Archduchess Louisa, appeared in the room. I say, the grand duchesses; for there is a dowager as well as a reigning grand duchess. These ladies are sisters, and nieces of the King of Saxony, the eldest having married the late grand duke, not long before his death, and being childless. The three followed each other, speaking in succession to those who had been previously addressed by the grand duke, and waiting until he had done. As our conversation had lasted a little longer than common, the three princesses were standing in a line behind the grand duke, when the latter left me. They were all in high court dresses, and had their trains borne by chamberlains.

Each of the princesses spoke to Count Fossombrone, in passing; and when the grand duke moved on, the reigning grand duchess approached me. There was no introduction in words, M. Corsi merely bowing towards me, to prevent any mistake. I dare say you think I now got some compliments on a work of fiction or two: no such thing—the subject was not alluded to by either of the princesses. They had treated letters with high distinction, by the especial notice they conferred; for, as I afterwards understood, the outer rooms were filled with men of rank waiting to be presented; but they avoided all allusion to the subject. With the two grand duchesses I had, for the circumstances, a good deal of conversation, and one of them quite won my heart by the manner in which she alluded to my children, of whom she had accidentally heard something. The archduchess said least; but the two grand duchesses were not only disposed to talk, but were every thing that was amiable.

I had a droll specimen of the influence of favour on this occasion: for the family had no sooner passed on, than I had to receive nearly the whole diplomatic corps; the rays of royalty illuminating the secondary planets as the moon receives brilliancy from the sun.

The rest of the reception was conducted in the same mode, the grand duke going through all the rooms; but the ladies were less particular. The latter sat down to cards; where I observed that the refreshments they received were taken from the pages, and handed to them by the chamberlains.

Among the company was M. Eynard, the celebrated Swiss Hellenist. He wore the military jacket of the Swiss militia, with a Greek cross on the sleeve. There were several Englishmen of rank present, in yeomanry uniforms; and one Lord——, told me his was that of a lieutenancy in the militia—an office he had formerly held. I mention these things, as so much misconception exists in America on the subject. The wisest way to go to court, here, would be to go in the full dress of Washington; but nothing is in better taste than to go in a militia uniform, if one happened to be entitled to wear it. The mistake is in flourishing these quasi military titles on the card, and in ordinary life, and in believing they are out of place on occasions like this. We get most of these things dessus-dessous, and fancy ourselves critically right, when we are singularly wrong. The well known story of Napoleon and General ——, may be true, but I greatly question it, as it is opposed to the spirit of European feeling; and it sounds very much like one of those inventions that float about American society, and are taken for gospel. I have known a dozen similar tales, in great vogue, which are certainly false. Ignorance of European life is so very general in America, and the susceptibility to European opinion so very keen, that we are to make great allowances for what is rumoured in such matters.

After remaining some time in the drawing-room, I was stealing off; when I perceived the grand duke moving slowly towards me, followed by a large circle of courtiers. I got into an angle of the room that happened to be empty at the moment, and close to a door, thinking I should be passed unseen, as I did not like the appearance of pushing myself on his notice, after the extreme civility of the first reception. With such an intention, however, a worse position could not have been taken; for on entering the room, happening to glance his eye aside, the grand duke saw me, and turning short, I was literally cornered. Those who kept near the person of their sovereign, some fifty in all, formed a semicircle, extending from the outer side of the door across the room, and we were left alone, literally in the corner. At first, the grand duke had his back turned towards the rest of the company; but recollecting the awkwardness of the position, he changed it so as to face his subjects.

The conversation lasted, I should think, twenty minutes. His imperial highness was very curious as to America, and though there were great modesty and politeness, mingled with a singular and commendable sincerity, in his manner, he asked a hundred questions, while, of course, I did nothing but answer them. He inquired into the number and size of our towns, the habits of the people, and the general state of the country. Some of his notions were, as usual with most Europeans, vague and false; but, on the whole, he appeared to me to know more about us than most of even the learned in this hemisphere. His geographical attainments struck me as being very respectable; and what gave me more satisfaction than anything else, was the simple integrity apparent in all his sentiments.

The Osages had passed through Florence not long before, and had been fêted and fed, as at Paris. The grand duke inquired if I had seen them, and, on being answered in the affirmative, he wished to know whether I believed them to be chiefs of importance in their tribe, and inquired their motive in coming to Europe. Now, it would not be agreeable for one who fancied he had seen a hero, to hear he had only seen a common man,—or who thought he was entertaining a saint, to discover that his attentions were lavished on a sinner. But catching some of the sincerity of the grand duke, I told him what I really thought: viz. that these savages could not well be principal chiefs, as the agent of our government would scarcely permit such to visit Europe; and that I believed the whole thing to have no connexion whatever with religious conversion, but to be merely a speculation of the Frenchman who managed the affair. This explanation was taken in good part, and I thought the grand duke had even anticipated some such reply. Princes so seldom get truth, that its novelty sometimes pleases them.

With one of his questions, which was personal to myself, I was both startled and amused. “De quel pays étes vous, vraiment?” he asked, laying particular emphasis on the last word. Had he not discovered too much knowledge of America previously, I might have suspected the old difficulty of colour was a stumbling-block; but as this was out of the question, suspicion was drawn another way. I believe the simple solution of this unusual question to be as follows:—Not long before, I had taken an opportunity to expose the motives and policy, that had given rise to the systematic and enduring abuse of the English press on America. Any one might have accomplished this duty, for such it had actually become; but favoured by circumstances, my own publication had made its way in Europe, where most American books would never have penetrated. As a matter of course, I had been blackguarded,—for the Anglo-Saxon race seems to take natural refuge in blackguarding when it can neither refute or disprove. By way of weakening my testimony, a report had been industriously circulated that I was a renegado Englishman, and an honest indignation for unmerited national calumny was ingeniously imputed to personal disaffection and personal discontent. As half-a-dozen of those rumours had fallen under my eyes in the public journals, I was at no loss to understand the drift of the grand duke’s inquiry; and this the more especially, as he awaited the answer with evident curiosity. Determined to set him right on this subject, which if of no importance to the state of Tuscany, was of some importance to myself, I told him, with commendable particularity, I was a native of the small state of New Jersey, a territory lying between the two great states of Pennsylvania and New York; though a citizen of the latter from infancy. He wished to know if New Jersey was an original state, and whether my father had not been an Englishman. On this hint, I added that my family had migrated to America, in 1679, from England certainly, but I had every reason to believe that I was the first member of it, in the direct line, who had been out of the country since; and, moreover, that Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York were original states in the heart of America, and that more than a hundred men of my name and blood were at this moment among their citizens. I believe this satisfied the grand duke: for so general is the disgust created by the English system of calumniating, that I have often had occasion to observe that the inhabitants of other countries are usually pleased to find the islanders put in the wrong.

It was not an easy matter to answer all the questions of this prince without misleading him, for etiquette prevented more than direct and brief replies. He was curious on the subject of luxury, and had many exaggerated notions concerning the magnificence of our nation. He seemed surprised when I told him we had no scenery to compare with that of the Mediterranean, and that nearly all of the American coast, in particular, was tame and uninteresting. “But your lakes?” “Are large, sir, without question; but so large as to resemble views of the ocean, and with coasts that are far from striking. We have many beautiful little lakes, it is true, but nothing to compare with those of Italy and Switzerland.” “Your rivers?”—“Are large and beautiful.” “And your mountains?”—“Are much inferior to those of Tuscany, even.”

But I cannot recall all that passed in this long conversation, of whose outline, rather than of its details, I have endeavoured to give you some idea. It terminated with the usual expressions of civility on the part of the grand duke, and the hope that Tuscany would prove an agreeable residence to us. Throughout the entire evening, I was under the impression that I had been treated with more than usual distinction, on account of my country; a source of distinction so very novel in Europe, that I deem it worthy of being recorded.

Like most of the Austrian family, Leopold II. is a man of kind heart and affections, and, I believe, a strictly honest prince. In many public acts it becomes necessary to separate the absolute sovereign from the individual; though the world is constantly guilty of the injustice of confounding them, while it is apt to overlook the divided responsibilities of aristocracies;—a polity that probably works more positive wrong than any other, since a large part of the crimes of despotism are merely excesses of those in places of trust. But Tuscany is a mildly governed country, and though it cannot be free from the vices of a want of publicity, it is free from their opposite—the vice of a too great publicity, or that of confounding the necessities of the community with the rights of individuals. The most insidious enemy of monarchy is aristocracy, which destroys while it pretends to support. Still, it is the natural goal of every nobility, and it has struck me there is a secret instinct which teaches this important truth to the sovereigns of our time. A country may be so far advanced as to wish for democracy; but this is the fact under few despotic governments; while all the nobles of Europe pine to become political, or true, as well as social aristocrats. In such a state of things, there is nothing violent in supposing that an absolute prince would regard an aristocrat with more distrust than he regards a democrat; for the polity of the former is an impossibility to him, while there is a constant and natural gravitation towards the latter. At all events, in my own intercourse with princes and aristocrats, I think I have discovered in the former greater liberality, a more confirmed deference for the facts of a country and less theoretical ardour in favour of systems, a higher tone of philosophy with less apparent selfishness, than in the latter, considering the aristocrats as a body, and not regarding the occasional brilliant exceptions. As respects affability and absence of hauteur, the advantage is altogether with the prince, for it depends on a law of nature. I believe, that as we are farther removed from competition and jealousy, the greater the spirit of humanity and charity becomes.