“I have communicated to all persons in this Department the kind and generous letter you have been so good as to address to me on the subject of your retirement from the post of Principal Librarian. On this event there is but one feeling throughout the Department—that of deep regret that we are about to lose one who has the strongest claims upon us all, not only for acts of personal kindness, but for substantial benefits.
“It is no secret throughout the House that whatever improvement has taken place in the condition of those employed in it has originated with yourself and been won by your exertions. They are indebted to you for increased pay and extended vacations. They are indebted to you for the abolition of the system of payment by the day, which was injurious to the service and painful to the feelings of the gentlemen employed. Your exertions procured for the Library those increased grants which have rendered possible its vast growth and the high position it at present occupies. In short, we feel, and are proud to feel, that all the important improvements in the Institution had their origin in this Department while you were its Chief Officer, and that the very great development of the Museum generally commenced at the period when you became Principal Librarian.
“For myself, I shall always feel most grateful for the unvarying kindness with which you have treated me during the long period of nearly thirty years that I have acted more or less immediately under your superintendence. Your advice, support, and encouragement have never been wanting to me in all cases of difficulty; and if the present state of the Library deserves commendation, it is to you that the praise is mainly due.
“While speaking thus in my own name, I am in fact speaking in the name of all, and only expressing the sentiments which have been conveyed to me by those in the Department. Although officially separated from us, your name must always be inseparably connected with this great Institution; and be assured, my dear sir, that you carry with you into your retirement not only the best wishes, but the warm and affectionate feelings of us all.”
Shortly after he left his post a subscription was set on foot throughout the Museum to present him with a fitting testimonial; this ultimately took the form of a portrait painted by Mr. George Frederick Watts, R.A. It is now hung in, and forms one of the chief ornaments of the Trustees’ Committee-Room. As a likeness it is perfect, by far the most successful example of the kind; as a picture it is one of the finest works of the painter, the modern Tintoretto. Produced in a low and yet powerful key of colour, the whole work exhibits a potent combination of ruddy-brown carnations, with black broken into deep greys—tints which are admirably harmonized with each other, and so happily toned as to produce just and broad chiaro-oscuro. The figure is life-size, three-quarters length, seated in three-quarters view to our right, and easily, as well as sedately, posed in a large chair; the head is slightly bent forward, and the eyes, although directed towards the spectator, are not directed at him; they have an expression of habitual thoughtfulness which is very striking when its influence is felt by the observer, and this is not the less effective because it is undemonstrative. Owing to the position of the eyes themselves, no reflections of the light appear on their surfaces, which by no means common circumstance adds to the gravity, and even to the dignity of the picture, and is perfectly faithful to nature. It increases the repose of the work, and excludes that which is often a disturbing element in designs of equal simplicity and breadth of motive. The steadfast expression of the features, and the restful attitudes of the body and hands, are valuable elements of this very important and impressive master-piece of painting.
We have given an exact and faithful account of the causes which led to Panizzi’s resignation of the office which he had held with honour for so many years, of the manner in which it was carried out, and of the testimonials which it evoked. We have now merely to mention that in the House of Lords a scene was enacted similar to that which took place in the House of Commons on the 21st of April, 1856. Whoever is anxious and willing to enter more fully into that controversy, unpleasant as it was, need only examine Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, House of Lords, Monday, February the 12th, 1866.
Let us give Panizzi’s own words to prove whether or not he was pleased and satisfied with the treatment he received at the hands of the Trustees. He thus wrote to Mrs. Haywood, on the 15th of July, 1866:—
“The Trustees have behaved most handsomely, and so has the Government, both in words and deeds. First of all ample justice, and perhaps some may say more than justice, was rendered to my long and many services. I shall certainly remain in London, the pension I am to get being ample for my wants; and now, my dear Mrs. Haywood, let me add a few words from my heart. The first feeling, when my future was settled, was one of deep grief, that the friend who would have so heartily rejoiced at the close of my honourable career, who cheered me when lonely and unknown, who thought of my welfare as much as he did of his own, that he was no longer here. This feeling overwhelmed me for a moment, and even now I can hardly master it.”
It was a common remark of Panizzi’s that during his long official career he had never, with very few exceptions, (and even then he felt he had acted for the best) shown favour to any one employed in the British Museum who had not afterwards become an honour to the Institution, and of this we have ample documentary evidence, dating so far back as the year 1837.
In the month of June, 1855, requiring the services of a Hebrew scholar, he applied to the firm of Asher, of Berlin, to recommend such a gentleman. Accordingly a certain young man of 23, and a Jew, endowed with natural ability, who understood Latin, Greek, and French, of strict moral integrity, and of faultless character, and thoroughly respectable was introduced to the Keeper of the Printed Books; this was Emanuel Deutsch, afterwards well-known as the writer of several letters to The Times respecting the discovery and reading of the Moabite Stone, and the article in the Quarterly Review on the Talmud. This Assistant was one whose talents his superior officer did not fail to recognise. Unfortunately death claimed him at an early age on the 14th of May, 1873.
It is a somewhat delicate subject to touch upon, but, as we are discussing these matters, we feel bound to mention by name others who were, in a manner of speaking, Panizzi’s children; and let us hope we are not exaggerating or exceeding our proper limits by remarking that they looked up to him as their protector and adviser. For example, Mr. E. Maunde Thompson, the present Keeper of MSS., was ever held by him in high estimation, and also, in an equal degree, were Mr. John T. Taylor, Mr. John Cleave, and Mr. Richard Garnett.
The first of these became his intimate friend, and it was also through his intervention that Mr. Taylor gave such valuable literary aid to the late Princess Mary Liechtenstein, in the compilation of the interesting volumes entitled “Holland House.” Mr. Cleave, then, as now, the Accountant of the Museum, had, as we know, many lengthy discussions with Panizzi on financial matters, and, indeed, the opinions of the latter on these points were always regarded as decisive. Greatly esteemed also was Mr. Garnett, whose appointment as Superintendent of the Reading-Room rejoiced the ex-Librarian extremely. Nor, although he has left the Museum, should the name of Mr. W. R. S. Ralston remain unmentioned.
Many more names might be enumerated; one, however, we will not omit—that of the clever mechanician and metal-worker, Mr. Sparrow, who, by his ingenuity, contrived or carried out many appliances for the comfort of the aged Librarian. All were labouring in unison as Panizzi’s barque was nearing the harbour, after its eventful voyage; and truly reciprocal were the feelings of friendship and respect which had grown up between Panizzi and his fellow-workers—friendship in full stream, flowing from the purest sources.
In this manner, applauded on all sides, beloved and respected, did the Principal Librarian retire from the position he had gained step by step by hard and uninterrupted labour. Still the memory of the past clung to him—still he would have devoted, had it been possible, his waning physical and mental strength to the internal and external workings of that Institution upon which he had so persistently set his heart. His own words bear witness to the affection he retained for the vicinity of his past efforts:—“I have got,” wrote he, “a house. It is in a very unfashionable quarter, though very respectable, near here, being 31, Bloomsbury Square.” So it was that he still desired to linger with his memories and experiences within sight of the building which had cost him so much in brain and body, and those who read these pages may easily conceive how far his thoughts were interwoven with his expressions.
We have endeavoured faithfully to detail the circumstances of this eventful life, until the time arrived when, succumbing to the stern dictates of nature, Panizzi was compelled to retire behind those scenes which his presence had so long graced.
When the actor or the author departs from the boards where his production or his acting has delighted audiences, how acute is the grief of parting with his admirers! Who does not remember the almost ominous words of the late Charles Dickens, when, at the last of his readings, he made use of the remarkable expression, From these garish lights I vanish now for evermore, with a heartfelt, grateful, respectful, and affectionate farewell? These words—though, of course, not exactly applicable to the present case—may be strained so far as to indicate the deep feeling with which a different, but not less successful, contributor to public requirements was severing himself from labours which had been to him pre-eminently a “labour of love,” and may justly be cited as implying the same affectionate remembrance of his fellow-workers and those who appreciated his undoubtedly great abilities. In addition to a faithful recital of facts and an unprejudiced view of the career of the chosen subject of any memoir, a biographer owes somewhat more to his readers. No life is worth recounting unless it affords an example worth following, or unless it is acknowledged at the first to have been set forth for some other specific purpose, either as mere matter for history, or as the life of one whose errors were so great that it is thought advisable to reproduce them as a warning to future would-be evil-doers.
Nothing appertains to the present biography but an intent to put before the world a man who, under the most adverse circumstances and with the most beneficial intentions, by sheer perseverance and by unflinching energy, attained the object of his heart’s desire—a desire that has redounded to his lasting praise.
No words of our own shall be used. Let those of Dean Milman be quoted as our justification for what has been already said of the subject of our memoir. On the 5th of February, 1866, writing from the “Deanery of St. Paul’s,” he used these words:—“As to his (Panizzi’s) public services, his long and most careful connection with the British Museum cannot be more fully or justly appreciated than by yourself” (this letter was addressed to Sir R. I. Murchison), “and I am sure that we should entirely agree on this subject. Above all, the great national gift of the Reading-Room, the envy and admiration of Europe, is, as you well know, almost his entire creation, from the original design to the most minute detail—from the dome to the inkstands and bookshelves.”
Those who knew Dean Milman will acknowledge the worth of a testimonial thus given by such a man to the value of Panizzi’s labours.
Yet it is not here that we must stop short; an unbiassed account has been rendered of his difficulties at the outset of his career, never resting he persevered in his onward journey where ordinary men would have resigned the effort. His own national misfortunes were enough to occupy his time and thoughts; yet he found opportunities to attend to all business that pressed upon his attention.
These are the facts and uncontrovertible facts; and the details upon which we have fully entered must excite admiration for the man who could thus concentrate his mind upon duties of the most onerous description, and yet, when occasion required, be found able and willing to befriend a cause which was unquestionably as dear to his heart as any other—viz., the liberty, freedom, and happiness of his own beloved Italy.
No undue exaltation of Panizzi is intended on the part of the biographer; wherever such may seem to be attributed, it is from no personal panegyric of his own.
Numerous letters might be adduced corroborative of the estimation in which the deceased was held—letters whose signature place their contents beyond suspicion; but they are withheld lest a charge of adulation should be laid at the author’s door, that charge he has studiously endeavoured to avoid.
At this important point in the narrative it has been thought nothing but reasonable to pause, before entering upon topics connected with the last years of this eminent man.
It would appear to be taking a liberty with the reader—or, indeed, what is far worse, to savour somewhat of bookmaking—to engraft a biography on a biography. We have already promised to give some account of the relations between Panizzi and Prosper Mérimée, the well-known writer and French statesman, which account would be incomplete were we to omit some special mention of Mérimée himself. It may be asserted, moreover, that Mérimée deserves, on his own intrinsic merit, a place in the memoir of Panizzi. Happily it has been our pleasing task of late to edit the whole of the letters which passed between them during their long friendship, and as nothing affords a better insight into the true character of a man than his familiar epistles to his friends, we shall make so bold as to use these letters as freely as may appear desirable in this short notice of the writer of them. It is much to be regretted that Panizzi’s letters to Mérimée have all been destroyed, with the exception of the very few already quoted, copies of which have been found amongst his papers. In the time of the unhappy Commune, on the 23rd of May, 1871, amongst other and more important buildings, Mérimée’s house was burnt down, and with it much which would have been most valuable for our present purpose. What has distressed me most, wrote a friend to Panizzi on this calamity, was to see the place where poor Mérimée’s house had been! It is a total wreck! All his furniture, his fine library, his manuscripts, his letters, and the thousand souvenirs of a long and intellectual lifetime all reduced to ashes. In conversation one day, Mons. Du Sommerard, of the Hotel Cluny, whose name is frequently mentioned in Mérimée’s letters, informed the present writer how he went to the spot shortly after the fire, in the hope of saving a few little things as souvenirs. But, alas! nothing was left as a relic of Prosper Mérimée except an old pipe.
Happy indeed had he only succeeded in rescuing a picture of Mérimée at five years old, painted by his mother, and another by Alexander Colin, painted about 1865.
The biographer knew the house well, Number 52, Rue de Lille (Paris), and remembers the room hung round with pictures of the Spanish School and English line-engravings. In September, 1869, he stayed with Mérimée. May his vanity in inserting the following record of that visit be pardoned by the reader!
“Mon cher Sir Anthony, alias Pan,
“J’ai eu la visite de Fagan, qui a diné avec moi Dimanche. Il m’a paru grandi et développé de toutes les manières, toujours très bon garçon, conservant malgré toutes les nationalités par où il a passé l’air de l’English boy.”
At what time and in what manner the acquaintance between Panizzi and Mérimée began, we are unable to determine. It would be passing strange, considering the position of the two men and their frequent opportunities of meeting, the similarity of their tastes and opinions, and the numerous attractions which the character of each must have had for the other, if such acquaintance had never been formed, and stranger still if it had failed to ripen into that intimate and lasting friendship which afterwards subsisted between them. Panizzi’s affection for his friend was intense, and he used often to say (though we do not allege this as any proof of the intensity of his friendship) that he was the best Frenchman for whom he had ever formed a liking. Mérimée, who was a master of the English language, an accomplishment which in his country ought to be less remarkable than it is, was in the habit of spending a month or so yearly in London. On these visits he always stayed at Panizzi’s house. As regards his external characteristics, he was tall of stature, upright in figure, and his eyes shone with remarkable brilliancy; in manner the most pleasing of men. One of his minor peculiarities was an extreme nicety in the matter of dress, which, though not an unfailing sign of genius and culture, may be put down to the credit of his good taste. And, indeed, what more can be said in laudation of a finished gentleman’s taste than that he had all his clothes made in London, and not only in London, but at Poole’s, of which great artist Mérimée was the constant patron. This fastidiousness of his was the cause of much facetiousness on the part of Panizzi, to which, however, the other seems to have been not altogether without means and opportunity of retort, that is to say, if we rightly construe the following passage in one of his letters containing a reflection on an article of Panizzi’s ordinary costume, Mérimée in asking some information as to a picture of Lord Spencer’s, says:—
“1o. Dans le tableau que possède Lord Spencer, Julie d’Angennes, Duchesse de Montausier, est-elle en buste ou jusqu’à la ceinture?
“2o. Est-elle maigre, ou a-t-elle de l’embonpoint?
“3o. A-t-elle les cheveux noirs ou blonds, les yeux noirs ou bleus?
“4o. Peut-on discerner si elle a une belle taille et si elle est grande?
“Si vous pouvez obtenir ce signalement avec l’exactitude d’un gendarme Autrichien (dont vous avez la robe de chambre), vous m’obligerez infiniment de me l’envoyer ici où je pense que M. Cousin ne tardera pas à venir.”
But in this friendly contest, if contest it may be called, Mérimée had to deal with a less exquisitely polished wit than his own, a wit which occasionally when Panizzi was, or pretended to be, more than ordinarily annoyed by his friend’s extreme attention to his attire, was developed in practical joking. One of Panizzi’s especial dislikes, and for this he had sound patriotic grounds of justification, was a peculiar cap, much of the kind worn by officers of the Austrian army, which Mérimée persisted in wearing both in the house and in the garden, known as the Principal Librarian’s. This was so peculiarly an object of annoyance to the Principal Librarian that he once went so far as to purloin the cap and lock it up, adding to the peculation the sin of denying to its owner that he knew anything whatever about it. Nor, though the treachery was discovered, is it on record that the rightful owner ever recovered possession of his property. He had his revenge, however. That the ghost of the victim should haunt the criminal, Mérimée made a drawing of the cap, which he placed every morning at breakfast, and every evening at dinner, in Panizzi’s napkin. The kind of footing on which Mérimée was at the British Museum may be gathered from the following self-invitation to Panizzi’s:—
“Vous recevrez de toute façon un mot de moi, qui vous marquera précisément le jour de mon entrée dans la ville de Londres. D’autre part, il se trouve que ma cousine est un peu malade, en sorte que son mari reste à Paris.
J’irai donc, si vous voulez le permettre, droit au British Museum à mon arrivée.—Cependant il faut que nous fassions nos conditions.—La première, c’est que vous ne vous dérangerez absolument en rien pour moi; que vous irez dîner en ville et passer vos soirées comme vous en avez l’habitude, sans vous inquiéter en rien de ce que deviendra votre serviteur, qui est assez pratique de Londres pour n’y pas mourir de faim ni même d’ennui.”
At the Museum Mérimée was well known and a great favourite with the whole staff. In this he took just pride:—
“Je reviens du British Museum qui m’a paru tout sombre depuis votre absence. M. Bond m’a montré un tres beau manuscript qu’on vient d’acheter pour soixante livres sterling. Les messengers et les attendants m’ont reconnu et ont été aussi aimables pour moi qu’à l’ordinaire.”
Prosper Mérimée was born at Paris on the 28th of September, 1803. His father, Jean François Léonore, was a painter of some eminence. Prosper was educated at the Collège Charlemagne, whence he passed the course of Ecole de Droit, and in after years as is well-known took an honourable position in political life. It is not, however, our office here to enter on a history of Mérimée’s career, which, as well as his published works, has been too long before the world to demand particular notice at our hands. Seeing that we have been simply the mechanical means of introducing to the public his letters to Panizzi, we hold it to be no transgression of the limits of modesty most heartily to commend these as among the best specimens of the art of letter writing that can well be found in any language. Upon them we shall principally rely for our information about Mérimée; nor, indeed, seeing that we have treated of him mainly in his character of Panizzi’s friend, should we think ourselves justified in travelling very far beyond their contents. Unstudied and unartificial, unrevised after being written, as is plain from the careless repetition that abounds in them, and written with no purpose of meeting any eye but their recipient’s, they present a clearer reflection of the writer’s mind than could be obtained from more elaborate compositions.
Moreover, the multitude of interesting subjects treated in them gives them a value for general history as well as an insight into the disposition and actions of their author.
In politics, Mérimée was of the school commonly known as Liberal-Conservative. He seems to have been singularly free from the gregarious instinct of his race and countrymen, who, to genuine liberty, are apt to prefer enforced equality, which, from the insupportable tyranny of the mob, leads, in nine cases out of ten, to the Despotism of the Dictator. Of the great political principle of vesting the Sovereign power in that quarter where the greatest number of noses are to be counted, he had the most genuine horror, as also of the instrument towards that end, universal suffrage, to which he expressed fears lest the reforms at that time projected in England should cause the nation to drift. It is natural that he should couple the expression of his fears with the praise of one, the moderation of whose opinions on this point he must heartily have approved:—
“En ce qui concerne la réforme, il me semble toujours que le beau rôle est à notre ami M. Lowe. Lui seul est dans le vrai et a le courage de son opinion. Ménager la chèvre et le chou est chose bien difficile, et je ne crois pas possible de faire une réforme définitive. Autant vaut prétendre s’arrêter au milieu d’une glissade que de fixer les conditions du droit électoral pour toujours ou même pour longtemps. Si on détruit ce qui existe, on ne retardera guère le suffrage universel.”
Happily we have not arrived as yet quite so far as that, although could Mérimée now see us, he might possibly be disturbed at finding that his forebodings of evil were not wholly without foundation, and that he was justified in predicting that tendency on our part towards the American system of politics which he so much disliked. Altogether he views England and its institutions from a strong Conservative standpoint, which position, however, enables him to be a good deal more complimentary to us than to his own countrymen:—
“Tout le monde devient-il fou? C’est ce que je me demande souvent en lisant les journaux. Je ne parle pas seulement des Allemands dont c’est l’état habituel, mais des gens que je suis habitué à considérer comme possesseurs de la plus haute dose de raison qui ait été accordée à la nature humaine. Cette affaire du ‘Reform Bill’ chez vous me semble de plus en plus incompréhensible et je suis désolé que Mr. Gladstone y ait mis les mains. Que cela réussisse cette fois ou non, je ne crois pas que le vieux prestige de l’Angleterre survive à cette épreuve. Elle est comme un vieux bâtiment encore très solide, mais qui menace de s’écrouler dès qu’on y fait des réparations maladroites. Ce qui me frappe surtout, c’est l’imprévoyance ou plutôt l’insouciance de l’avenir de la part de vos hommes d’Etat. C’est tout à fait le 'furia francese’ qui cherche en tout la satisfaction du moment. Vous paraissez croire que le ministère se trouvera en minorité, mais on dit qu’il fera une dissolution dans l’espoir que les élections faites sous la pression démocratique lui seront favorables. A en juger par le ton du Times qui semble désespérer, je serais tenté de croire que, dans ce Parlement même, la majorité est fort incertaine et que les Ministres actuels ont d’assez grandes chances de succès. Vous me parlez de Lord Stanley comme “Premier” probable, et en même temps de M. Lowe comme devant occuper une place importante dans un nouveau Cabinet.”
The most old-fashioned politicians amongst us, however they might regret the decadence of old systems and deplore those changes which time and necessity have forced upon us, would probably hardly have the courage to utter such words as these:—
“Je ne comprends pas grand’chose au second ‘Bill’ de réforme. Il me semble seulement que c’est un grand coup de marteau dans le vieil édifice. Le résultat sera de diminuer la ‘qualité’ des membres du Parlement, laquelle n’est pas déjà si brillante. Je vois dans les journaux qu’on se félicite de voir ôter aux fils de grandes maisons, des bourgs qui étaient à leur dévotion. A mon sens, c’était un des beaux côtés de l’Angleterre que cette initiation de jeunes aristocrates à la vie politique dès leur sortie de l’Université. C’est ainsi que Fox, Pitt et Lord Palmerston sont devenus de bonne heure des hommes d’Etat. Vous aurez en place des industriels et des négociants, c’est-à-dire des niais et des esprits étroits, excluant systématiquement toute grandeur de la politique. On fera ainsi une Angleterre semi-démocratique inférieure à beaucoup d’égards à la vraie et terrible démocratie des Etats-Unis.”
Some of his compatriots, while admitting the good sense and experience shown in the general proposition contained in the following passage may not be quite so ready to admit its application to their own particular notions:—
“Nous avons nos Fenians cent fois plus dangereux et plus nombreux qu’ils ne le sont en Irlande. Donnez à ces gens là les libertés qu’ils réclament et que M. Thiers dit être nécessaires à tous les peuples, vous aurez en trois mois une révolution. Le plus grand malheur qui puisse arriver à un peuple est, je crois, d’avoir des institutions plus avancées que son intelligence. Lorsqu’on demande pour la France les institutions des Anglais, il faudrait pouvoir leur donner d’abord le bon sens et l’expérience qui les rendent praticables.”
It remains a question yet to be decided how far this people, which imitates English institutions before it understands them, will be competent to manage a Republic of their own. His praise of the decision and energy of our colonial authorities in the celebrated Eyre and Gordon case is not unalloyed with a dash of sarcasm, but here also there is no reason to doubt that what he says of his own country is meant in earnest:—
“J’admire beaucoup l’affaire de la Jamaïque. L’Angleterre trouve toujours des hommes énergiques à la hauteur des plus graves circonstances, et non seulement énergiques, mais assez dévoués pour risquer les plus grandes énormités, si elles sont nécessaires. Il me semble qu’on a pendu beaucoup plus qu’il ne fallait, peut-être même les gens qu’il ne fallait pas; mais l’insurrection a été arrêtée net, et l’exemple durera, même si l’on désavoue le gouverneur. Voilà la véritable politique, malheureusement impratiquée et peut-être impraticable dans ce pays-ci.”
He is not, however, it pains us to record, so lenient a judge of English foreign policy, under Lord Russell and Lord Palmerston, as he is a fervent admirer of the energy of our Colonial Governors, and of the beauties of our constitution in general. Indeed he seems occasionally a little unnecessarily severe, as, for instance, when he says:—
“Est-ce la vieillesse qui règne dans le Cabinet Britannique, ou bien est-ce calcul de gens qui ont fait un bon coup à la Bourse et qui ne veulent plus se risquer? Quoi qu’il en soit, vos Ministres affichent la poltronnerie avec trop d’éclat. Rien n’est plus bête que d’être fanfaron, mais il est dangereux, outre ridicule, de se poser en poltron. C’est le moyen d’avoir tous les faux braves à ses trousses.”
And in the following extracts, in reference to Lord Palmerston, he shows himself scarcely so far-sighted as might be expected of him:—
“Reste à savoir ce que dira la postérité. Pour moi, je crois qu’elle aura un terrible blâme pour sa conduite dans les affaires d’Amérique; s’il eût fait avec la France le traité qu’on lui proposait, il aurait sauvé la vie à quelques centaines de mille yankees (ce qui n’est pas très à regretter); mais il aurait encore détourné de l’Europe une abominable influence qui pourra bien un jour devenir une intervention active.”
“L’Angleterre a perdu son prestige en Europe. II y a quelques années elle aurait pu empêcher la guerre. En s’unissant à la France, elle aurait pu diviser à jamais l’Amérique en deux états rivaux; elle aurait pu prévenir la scandaleuse invasion du Danemark, et aujourd’hui nous serions probablement tranquilles.”
On the case of Denmark we refrain from remarking, but the policy recommended towards America might have been hard for that country, and assuredly would have been worse for England, however much some amongst us may have admired the chivalry of the South, and mistrusted the declared motives of those who (there never could have been much doubt at the time) would in the long run have come victorious out of the struggle. Few could seriously suppose that the power of England, even had there been a means of exercising it, would have been of much avail to prevent the ill-feeling which Mérimée admits to have been long smouldering between France and Germany from breaking out into war. After this criticism of our own, it is but fair to record a tribute to Lord Palmerston’s worth in another letter:—
“La mort de Lord Palmerston est une belle mort, telle que je la voudrais pour moi et pour mes amis. Il a été l’homme le plus heureux de ce siècle. Il a fait presque toujours tout ce qu’il a voulu, et il a voulu de bonnes et belles choses. Il a eu beaucoup d’amis. Il laisse un grand nom et un souvenir ineffaçable chez ceux qui l’ont connu. Si vous trouvez moyen de me nommer à Lady Palmerston quand vous la verrez, vous m’obligerez. Vous pouvez lui dire qu’ici la presse a été unanime dans ses éloges. On a fait, bien entendu, force blunders historiques et autres, à cette occasion, entre autres de dire que Lady Palmerston était morte, etc., etc., mais il n’y a pas eu de méchancetés d’aucune part, et dans tous les partis on a été respectueux; c’est un hommage bien rare en France, comme vous savez. L’Empereur et l’Impératrice ont montré beaucoup de regret en petit comité; je crois qu’ils ont écrit à Milady.”
De omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis might be the collective title, and may be truly called the proper text of Mérimée’s letters to Panizzi. But it would be as hopeless to attempt to follow the critic omnium rerum, et quarundam aliarum, through all the variations of English politics that happened in his time, as to review the numerous works with which he has amused and instructed mankind, or to recount the offices he filled, from his place in the Senate of France and his membership of the “Académie Française” to his office of Commissioner at the London Exhibition of 1862, or the several ways in which he did good service to art and to the State. One subject, then, only shall be added on what may be called public politics, viz., an opinion on the Eastern question, which, even if Mérimée’s prophecy has not been actually fulfilled according to the very letter, shows, at least, a pretty sound notion of the stability of the Turkish Empire:—
“J’ai eu des nouvelles de Constantinople, où l’on se moque beaucoup des histoires qu’on a faites de la chasteté du Sultan, et de son goût pour l’eau pure. L’un est aussi vrai que l’autre; mais son grand goût pour le moment, c’est pour les poules. Il vient de commander un poulailler de cinq cent mille francs pour élever ses volailles. Voilà comme il entend l’économie! Croyez que nous aurons, d’ici à peu de temps, des choses sérieuses en Orient, qui donneront un cruel démenti à Lord Palmerston, lequel veut absolument que l’Empire Turc se tienne debout tant qu’il vivra. Je crois la Porte beaucoup plus près de sa fin que Mylord.”
Mérimée was an author before he attained his twenty-second year. He wrote a collection of plays, published under the pseudonym of Clara Gazul, a Spanish authoress, and alleged to be translated by Joseph L’Estrange, an equally fictitious personage. Concerning this book and its originator, we quote the words of a writer of the time:—
“Ceux qui n’étaient pas dans le secret auraient difficilement reconnu un jeune homme à ces caractères dessinés avec tant de précision et de relief, à cette absence de déclamation, à ce style correct, ferme et nerveux, qui ne trahissait nulle part l’hésitation d’un débutant.”
One of the best imaginary plays was entitled “Les Espagnols en Danemark,” and was a satire directed by Mérimée against the extravagant laudation bestowed by certain people from hatred to the restoration on the régime of the first Napoleon. Whatever Mérimée may have thought of the First, he was on the best of terms with the ruler of the Second Empire. It would perhaps be a little rash as yet to assert positively that the last of the dynasty who had the slightest chance of attaining to future eminence has passed away, but it is a truism that requires no apology that it will be long ere the past fortunes of the house lose their interest for the reader of history, and some of the many anecdotes and other matters related in his letters to Panizzi by Mérimée, who was a constant guest of the Emperor and Empress, wherein he describes the inner life of the family, may be profitably reproduced. Here is an account of an innocent practical joke played on an enthusiastic German lady, which must have afforded some amusement to the perpetrators of it:—
“Madame de L—— en sa qualité d’Allemande admirait fort M. de Bismark, et nous la tourmentions en la menaçant des hardiesses de ce grand homme qu’elle semblait encourager. Il y a quelques jours j’ai peint et découpé la tête de M. de Bismark très ressemblante, et le soir Leurs Majestés et moi nous sommes entrés dans la chambre de Madame de L—— Nous avons mis la tête sur le lit, un traversin sous les draps pour représenter la bosse formée par un corps humain, puis l’Impératrice a mis sur le front un mouchoir arrangé comme bonnet de nuit. Dans le demi-jour de la chambre, l’illusion était complète. Quand Leurs Majestés se sont retirées, nous avons retenu quelque temps Madame de L—— pour que l’Empereur et l’Impératrice allassent se poster au bout du corridor, puis chacun a fait mine d’entrer dans sa chambre. Madame de L—— est entrée dans la sienne, y est restée, puis en est sortie précipitamment et est venue frapper à la porte de Madame de X——, en lui disant d’une voix lamentable: “Il y a un homme dans mon lit!” Malheureusement Madame de X—— n’a pas gardé son sérieux, et à l’autre bout du corridor, les rires de l’Impératrice ont tout gâté. Le bon est ce que nous avons appris plus tard. Un des valets de pied de l’Empereur était entré dans la chambre de Madame de L—— et apercevant la tête s’était retiré avec de grandes excuses. Puis il était allé dire qu’il y avait un homme dans le lit. Quelques uns avaient émis l’opinion que c’était M. de L—— qui venait pour coucher avec sa femme, mais cette hypothèse avait été rejetée comme improbable. Eugène qui m’avait vu fabriquer le portrait a empêché qu’on n’allat vérifier l’affaire.”
Another great source of amusement must have been the Turkish Ambassador of the period,—of whom we read:—
“Nous avons ici l’Ambassadeur de Turquie, Safvet-Pacha, qui parle bien Français pour un Turc. Il est assis à la droite de l’Impératrice, et hier, pendant le dîner, il lui dit: Il y a une bien ridicule lettre sur l’Algérie dans le journal.—Vous savez que tous les journaux ont répété la lettre de l’Empereur au Maréchal Mac-Mahon.—Voilà l’Impératrice qui rougit et, inquiète pour le pauvre Turc, elle lui dit: Vous connaissez l’auteur de la lettre?—Non; mais je sais bien que c’est un embécile! Tous ceux qui écoutaient étaient prêts à crever de rire. Maise c’est de l’Empereur! s’é cria l’Impératrice. Pas du tout, répond l’Ambassadeur; c’est d’un abbé qui veut convertir les Mussulmans. Effectivement, je ne sais quel prêtre avait mis ce jour là une tartine que personne n’avait remarquée. Vous qui connaissez l’Impératrice et la mobilité de son expression, vous pouvez vous représenter la scène au naturel.”
“J’ai trouvé à Compiègne Leurs Majestés en trèstrès bonne santé, ainsi que le Prince Impérial. On a passé le temps assez gravement sans charades ni facéties semblables. II n’y a eu qu’une lanterne chinoise dont M. Leverrier, l’astronome, était le montreur. Il nous a fait voir des photographies de la lune et des planètes comme on montre à la foire les sept merveilles du monde. L’Ambassadeur Turc, qui, probablement, s’attendait à voir Caragneux ou quelque autre spectacle aussi anacréontique, a presque protesté, et a déclaré qu’il ne croyait pas un mot de tout ce qu’on venait de lui dire du soleil.”
Nor must a notice of the visit of the Emperor to Algeria in this year be omitted:—
“L’Empereur nous a conté son voyage dont il paraît enchanté. Ne trouvez vous pas extraordinaire qu’après avoir eu quatre ou cinq cents mille hommes tués par les chrétiens, après avoir eu beaucoup de leurs femmes violées, après avoir perdu leur autonomie et je ne sais combiens d’items, les arabes aient reçu si admirablement le chef des gens qui ont fait tout cela. Sa Majesté est allée dans le grand désert avec une vingtaine de Français, tout au plus et est restée quarante-huit heures au milieu de quinze à vingt mille Sahariens qui lui ont tiré des coups de fusil aux oreilles (c’est la manière de saluer du pays) et ont nettoyé ses bottes avec leurs barbes. Pas un seul n’a montré la moindre revanche. On lui a donné des bœufs entiers rôtis, on lui a fait manger des autruches et je ne sais quelles autres bêtes impossibles, mais partout il a été reçu comme un souverain aimé. Il en est très fier et très content. Il m’a demandé de vos nouvelles. Je n’ai pas dit un mot de vos projets.”
To enter now on more serious matters. The Nemesis of France governed for so many years on the panem and circenses system, and corrupted to the core, must have been hard to face, when the day of trial came for Napoleon III.
“J’ai vu avant-hier l’Impératrice. Elle est ferme comme un roc, bien qu’elle ne se dissimule pas toute l’horreur de sa situation. Je ne doute pas que l’Empereur ne se fasse tuer, car il ne peut rentrer ici que vainqueur et une victoire est impossible. Rien de prêt chez nous. Tout manque à la fois. Partout, du désordre. Si nous avions des généraux et des ministres rien ne serait perdu, car il y a certainement beaucoup d’enthousiasme et de patriotisme dans le pays. Mais avec l’anarchie, les meilleurs éléments ne servent de rien. Paris est tranquille, mais si on distribue des armes aux faubourgs comme le demande Jules Favre, c’est une nouvelle armée prussienne que nous avons sur les bras.”
Concerning the unfortunate Prince Imperial, Mérimée’s letters contain a good deal of matter which in these days assumes a very melancholy complexion, more especially in adverting to that fair promise of success, both in arts and arms, which his early life indicated:—