STRAWBERRY HILL, _June_ 14, 1769.
I thank you for the history of the Pope and his genealogy, or, rather,
for what is to be his genealogy; for I suppose all those tailors and
coachmen his relations will now found noble families. They may enrich
their blood with the remaining spoils of the Jesuits, unless, which
would not surprise me, his new Holiness should now veer about, and
endeavour to save the order; for I think the Church full as likely to
fall by sacrificing its janissaries, as by any attacks that can be made
upon it. _Deme unum, deme etiam unum._
If I care little about your Roman politics, I am not so indifferent
about your Corsican. Poor brave Paoli!--but he is not disgraced! We,
that have sat still and seen him overwhelmed, must answer it to history.
Nay, the Mediterranean will taunt us in the very next war. Choiseul
triumphs over us and Madame du Barri; her star seems to have lost its
influence. I do not know what another lady[1] will say to Choiseul on
the late behaviour of his friend, the Ambassador, here. As the adventure
will make a chapter in the new edition of Wiquefort, and, consequently,
will strike _you_, I will give you the detail. At the ball on the King's
birthday, Count Czernichew was sitting in the box of the Foreign
Ministers next to Count Seilern, the Imperial Ambassador. The latter,
who is as fierce as the Spread Eagle itself, and as stiff as the chin of
all the Ferdinands, was, according to his custom, as near to Jupiter as
was possible. Monsieur du Châtelet and the Prince de Masserano came in.
Châtelet sidled up to the two former, spoke to them and passed behind
them, but on a sudden lifted up his leg and thrust himself in between
the two Imperials. The Russian, astonished and provoked, endeavoured to
push him away, and a jostle began that discomposed the faces and curls
of both; and the Russian even dropped the word _impertinent_.
Czernichew, however, quitted the spot of battle, and the Prince de
Masserano, in support of the family-compact, hobbled into the place
below Châtelet. As the two champions retired, more words at the door.
However, the Russian's coach being first, he astonished everybody by
proposing to set Monsieur du Châtelet down at his own house. In the
coach, _it is said_, the Frenchman protested he had meant nothing
personal either to Count Czernichew, or to the Russian Minister, but
having received orders from his Court to take place on all occasion
_next_ to the Imperial Ambassador, he had but done his duty. Next
morning he visited Czernichew, and they are _personally_ reconciled. It
was, however, feared that the dispute would be renewed, for, at the
King's next levée, both were at the door, ready to push in when it
should be opened; but the Russian kept behind, and at the bottom of the
room without mixing with the rest of the Foreign Ministers. The King,
who was much offended at what had passed, called Count Czernichew into
the middle of the room, and talked to him for a very considerable time.
Since then, the Lord Chamberlain has been ordered to notify to all the
Foreign Ministers that the King looks on the ball at Court as a private
ball, and declares, _to prevent such disagreeable altercations for the
future_, that there is no precedence there. This declaration is
ridiculed, because the ball at Court is almost the only ceremony that is
observed there, and certainly the most formal, the princes of the blood
dancing first, and everybody else being taken out according to their
rank. Yet the King, being the fountain of all rank, may certainly
declare what he pleases, especially in his own palace. The public
papers, which seldom spare the French, are warm for the Russian.
Châtelet, too, is not popular, nor well at Court. He is wrong-headed,
and at Vienna was very near drawing his Court into a scrape by his
haughtiness. His own friends even doubt whether this last exploit will
not offend at Versailles, as the Duc de Choiseul has lately been
endeavouring to soften the Czarina, wishes to send a minister thither,
and has actually sent an agent. Châtelet was to have gone this week, but
I believe waits to hear how his behaviour is taken. Personally, I am
quite on his side, though I think him in the wrong; but he is extremely
civil to me; I live much at his house, admire his wife exceedingly, and,
besides, you know, have declared war with the Czarina; so what I say is
quite in confidence to you, and for your information. As an Englishman,
I am whatever Madam Great Britain can expect of me. As intimate with the
Châtelets, and extremely attached to the Duchess of Choiseul, I detest
Madame du Barri and her faction. You, who are a Foreign Minister, and
can distinguish like a theologian between the _two natures_ perfectly
comprehend all this; and, therefore, to the charity of your casuistry I
recommend myself in this jumble of contradictions, which you may be sure
do not give me any sort of trouble either way. At least I have not
_three_ distinctions, like Châtelet when he affronted Czernichew, but
neither in his private nor public capacity.
[Footnote 1: The Czarina.]
This fracas happens very luckily, as we had nothing left to talk of; for
of the Pope we think no more, according to the old saying, than of the
Pope of Rome. Of Wilkes there is no longer any question, and of the war
under the Pole we hear nothing. Corsica, probably, will occasion
murmurs, but they will be preserved in pickle till next winter. I am
come hither for two months, very busy with finishing my round tower,
which has stood still these five years, and with an enchanting new
cottage that I have built, and other little works. In August I shall go
to Paris for six weeks. In short, I am delighted with having bid adieu
to Parliament and politics, and with doing nothing but what I like all
the year round.
_HIS RETURN TO PARIS--MADAME DEFFAND--A TRANSLATION OF "HAMLET"--MADAME
DUMENIL--VOLTAIRE'S "MEROPE" AND "LES GUÈBRES._"