CHAPTER II.

LIFE OF RUMFORD AFTER THE FOUNDATION OF THE INSTITUTION.

1799 to 1814.

The history of the life of Count Rumford in 1799, 1800, 1801 to May

1802 is chiefly the history of the Royal Institution. The foundation

of it forms an episode which must be separated from the rest of his

career. But some of the letters and events of these years which are

more closely related to his future life will be recorded here.

Before he began the Institution he had almost determined to go to

America, and before the building was finished he wrote to his daughter

regarding the time ‘when I shall be at liberty,’ and soon after he

spoke of going to Munich, but before his plans for the Institution were

carried out he went to Paris, where new attractions put an end to all

he intended to do in America and in England, and he never revisited his

native or his adopted country.

On June 9, 1800, Sir C. Blagden wrote to Rumford’s daughter in America:

It will give me great pleasure to see you again either here or in

America. Do not depend upon the Count’s going to visit you there.

It is indeed possible that the fancy may suddenly strike him, and

then he will set off in an instant, almost without giving notice.

But his favourite child, the Institution, cannot yet walk alone,

and, if he quits it at the time he talks of, will be a helpless

cripple, even if it should continue to exist at all. I still see

with regret his time and powers wasted on an object so inferior, in

my opinion, to those which presented themselves to him in America.

But he views the thing in a different light, and I suspect will be

led on to stay here one year after another, till you are worn out

with expecting him, and the opportunity of distinguishing himself

in a rising country will be past.

Count Rumford thus wrote to his daughter:

Royal Institution, London, March 2, 1801.

MY DEAR CHILD,--I am still established at the Institution. I have

been exceedingly busy, but desire to be thankful that all is now

nearly completed, when I shall be at liberty. We have found a nice

able man for this place as lecturer--Humphry Davy. Lectures are

given, frequented by crowds of the first people. Lady Palmerston

and her two daughters, Frances and Elizabeth, are pretty constant

attendants.

They would not receive me as minister here, but seem disposed

now to make it up to me by the respect they show the

Institution--originally and chiefly my work. Bernard says they

are crazy about it. It was certainly gratifying to me to see the

honourable list of lords, dukes, &c., as fifty-guinea subscribers.

It is a very extensive establishment, and will cost a great deal

of money; but I hope it will be an equal advantage to the world,

as the expense and labour of forming it have been great. To strive

for good things I view as a laudable ambition, as I hope you do, my

dear Sally. But I hope, above all, to hear of your being well and

happy, not doubting the rest.

I hope to be undisturbed by visitors this morning, or workmen,

from my being thought to be at Harrogate, and to be allowed quietly

to fill this sheet. You can form no idea of the bustle in which I

live since I have taken up my residence in this place. In short,

the Royal Institution is not only the fashion but the rage. I am

very busy indeed in striving to turn the disposition of the moment

to a good account for the permanent benefit of society.

I have the unspeakable satisfaction to find that my labours have

not been in vain. In this moment of scarcity and general alarm

the measures I have recommended in my writings for relieving the

distresses of the poor are very generally adopted, and public

kitchens have been erected in all the great towns in England and

Scotland. Upwards of sixty thousand persons are fed daily from the

different public kitchens in London.

The plan has lately been adopted in France, and a very large public

kitchen for feeding the poor was opened in Paris three weeks since.

A gentleman present tells me that the founders of the institution

did me the honour to put my name at the head of the tickets

given to the poor authorising them to receive soup at the public

kitchens. At Geneva they have done still more to show me respect.

They have marked their tickets with a stamp on which my portrait

and my name are engraved.

I am not vain, my dear Sally, but it is utterly impossible

not to feel deeply affected at these distinguished marks of

honour conferred on me by nations at war with Great Britain,

and in countries where I have never been, or know little of the

inhabitants. But my greatest delight arises from the silent

contemplation of having succeeded in schemes and labours for the

benefit of mankind.

Sir C. Blagden wrote to Rumford’s daughter, September 10, 1801:

Your father is indeed going to Munich, and talks of setting out in

a fortnight. I had at one time almost settled to go with him, but

he then proposed to stay there all this winter and next summer. Two

or three weeks ago he changed his plan, and determined to make this

only a preparatory visit, and to return hither within three months.

For my own part I sincerely wish that he had found it expedient to

make a voyage to America instead of this journey on the Continent.

I would then certainly have accompanied him across the Atlantic,

notwithstanding the unsettled state of affairs here. He every day

talks more and more coolly about going to America, and though I

really think that he means to make _you_ a visit there some time

or other, yet it does not seem as if he promised himself much

satisfaction besides.

As to his health, it is nearly the same as usual, except that he

is rather thinner, having lived long upon a very spare diet. The

constant agitation of his mind, and the irritable constitution with

which it is connected, will necessarily prevent him from enjoying a

regular state of good health.

Again, in September, writing to his daughter, Rumford says that the

new Elector has invited him to return with assurances of his warm

friendship, and ‘that though many salaries and pensions have been

suspended through the war, his shall be paid.’ He says he is going to

Munich, ‘but that if the Elector will excuse him he does not intend to

stay long, the Royal Institution still requiring his oversight.’

He reached Munich by way of Mannheim, and thence wrote to his daughter:

Munich, October 2, 1801.

MY DEAR SALLY,--I arrived here late last evening, and early this

morning went to pay my respects to the Elector, who received me

with all imaginable kindness. He appears to have plenty of business

for me in an academy he is about building, but, as things are not

yet in readiness to begin, I am excused from remaining; instead

of which I return to England, to put an end to the work begun

there--that of the Royal Institution. I owe so much to the Elector,

it is my duty to do all in my power to give him satisfaction.

Besides, he says I shall be president of the academy when done.

In another letter he speaks of the kindness he met with in Bavaria.

He left Munich on October 13, and again wrote to his daughter on

his arrival in Paris on the 25th. His daughter says this was her

father’s first visit to Paris. The reception he met with was ‘simply

enchantment.’ His inventions were in common use; his name was familiar

to everyone. He made a multitude of acquaintances; parties were made

for him every day; and he particularly liked one lady. Two letters

written to Sir Joseph Banks from Paris in 1801 are of great interest.

Hôtel de Caraman, Paris, November 11.

MY DEAR SIR JOSEPH,--I arrived here from Munich about a fortnight

ago, and I purpose staying here three weeks longer. My reception

has been very flattering, and I find many interesting objects

of curiosity that engage my attention. I have already made the

personal acquaintance of most of the men of eminence in science,

and I have attended several of the meetings of the National

Institute. At the last meeting of the mathematical and physical

class the First Consul came in, and, fortunately for the complete

gratification of my curiosity, he happened to come and seat himself

very near me. One person only (Lagrange) was between us. He stayed

about an hour--till the meeting was over. Volta read a memoir on

Galvanism and explained his theory of the action of the voltaic

pile or battery. His opinion is that all the appearances that are

called galvanic are owing to the action of an electric fluid, and

he says that the simple tact of two metals--silver and zinc, for

instance--is sufficient to set the electric fluid in motion; and

if the metals are insulated, one of them will become electrified

positively and the other negatively. This assertion was proved by

an experiment which was made before the assembly, and this fact is

the foundation on which his explanation of the phenomena of the

galvanic pile is established. After Volta had finished his memoir

the First Consul demanded leave from the President to speak, which,

being granted, he proposed to the meeting to reward M. Volta with

a gold medal, and to appoint a committee to confer with M. Volta

on the subject of his experiments and investigations respecting

galvanism, and to make such new experiments as may bid fair to lead

to further discoveries. He delivered his sentiments with great

perspicuity and displayed a degree of eloquence which surprised

me. He is certainly a very extraordinary man and is possessed of

uncommon abilities. The expression of his countenance is strong,

and it is easy to perceive by his looks that he can pronounce the

magic words ‘je le veux’ with due energy. I was presented to him by

the Bavarian minister at his last public audience, and was received

by him with marked attention. He gave me to understand that he knew

me by reputation very well, and intimated that the French nation

had adopted several of the improvements I had recommended. A few

minutes after I came home from the audience I received a note from

him, inviting me to come and dine with him that day. The foreign

ministers dined with him, but no other stranger except myself was

invited; consequently my being invited was considered as a marked

distinction. It was the next day that I saw him again at the

National Institute.

I have had opportunities of making the acquaintance of several of

the most distinguished characters now in power in this country.

I am very intimate with Chaptal, the Minister of the Interior,

and frequently see Talleyrand, the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

I have dined with both of them, and visit them often. Laplace and

Bertholet are very civil and attentive to me, and have each of them

given me a dinner, where I met most of the men of science of the

first distinction in Paris. Fourcroy has also given me a dinner. In

short, I am treated with the utmost civility, and I spend my time

very agreeably and very usefully. I hope to see you in London about

the 6th or 8th of December.

Ever yours most faithfully,

RUMFORD.

He again wrote:

November 22, 1801.

MY DEAR SIR JOSEPH,--I do wrong perhaps, but I cannot help telling

you that your name is at the head of the list of those ten persons

whom the Class of Mathematics and Physics have resolved to present

to the National Institute at their next general meeting, in order

to their being elected foreign members of the Institute. You were

proposed to the class by the Section of Botany. Your name is

followed by those of Maskelyne, Cavendish, Herschel, Priestly,

Pallas, Volta, and three others. I was present when the ballot of

the class was taken, and had the satisfaction to see that all the

votes agreed in placing your name at the head of the list. I was

politely told that my name would have been near that of my friend,

had it not been that the second class of the Institute had claimed

me as belonging to them and had placed me on their list. The three

first names on that list are, I am told, Mr. Jefferson, President

of the United States, Count Rumford, and Major Rennell; the others

I did not learn.

I was proposed to the class by the Section of Political Economy.

The classes propose to the Institute, and the Institute elects at

a general meeting. The number of foreign members is limited to

twenty-four. As the election will not take place for some weeks to

come, I beg you would make the most prudent use of the information

I have given you. I shall not mention the subject to anybody but

yourself.

I hope to see you in London in about three weeks from this time.

My health is much improved, and is still improving every day. My

stay in Paris has afforded me much amusement, but I begin to be

impatient to see my friends in England. I hope everything is going

on well at the Royal Institution.

I am, my dear Sir Joseph, with unalterable esteem and attachment,

yours most faithfully,

RUMFORD.

In another letter to his daughter, written January 15, 1802, he says

that he returned to Brompton on December 20, and that he was three

months on the Continent and seven weeks of the time in Paris. He spoke

of his intention to enjoy again the delights of the French capital on

his way, in the course of the summer, to Munich and to get excused

from any longer residence at Munich. The Elector continued friendly to

him, and had lately written to him a very gracious letter, in which he

expresses his pleasure at the cordiality extended towards Rumford in

France, and advises him to cultivate an acquaintance with a certain

lady there, who, among other attractions, was said to have great

wealth. When he made this second visit to Paris, the Count accepted an

invitation which he had received to stay with the Bavarian ambassador.

Before he left England again, May 9, 1802, he published the third

volume of his essays.

His tenth essay was on ‘Kitchen Fire-Places and Utensils;’ his eleventh

on ‘Chimney Fire-Places.’

His twelfth on the ‘Salubrity of Warm Rooms in Cold Weather;’ his

thirteenth on the ‘Salubrity of Bathing and the Construction of Warm

Baths.’ His fourteenth consisted of ‘Supplementary Observations on

the Management of Fires;’ his fifteenth was on the ‘Use of Steam for

Transporting Heat.’

In May 1802 he also published a volume of his philosophical papers,

with a dedication to his Most Serene Highness Maximilian Joseph,

Elector Palatine of Bavaria. In this he says he must ever feel himself

greatly indebted to his Most Serene Electoral Highness

for the kind assurances you gave me of your esteem, protection, and

friendship on your succeeding to your present Bavarian dominions on

the death of your late uncle, my kind friend and benefactor; but I

am bound to you still more, if it be possible, by the flattering

invitation you have lately given me to come to you and reside at

your Court and assist in the local work of carrying into execution

the vast plans you have formed for promoting the prosperity of your

subjects.

From Brompton, May 6, 1802, he writes to his daughter: ‘In three days

I shall set out for Dover, on my way to Paris, where I expect to stay

four or five weeks, and then to proceed to Munich.’ He sent by way of

Holland two carriages and much baggage.

On May 20 Sir C. Blagden wrote from Paris to Sir Joseph Banks: ‘Count

Rumford arrived here last Friday (the 14th) in remarkably good health.

Travelling agrees with him, and he seems very happy. We purpose to set

out for Bavaria before the middle of next month.’

Writing to his daughter, June 25, Rumford says: ‘I did not propose

to stay here long, but the Elector has written commissioning me to

transact some business for him of a political nature in which he is

much interested.’

On June 8 Sir C. Blagden writes to Sir Joseph Banks: ‘I was preparing

everything to set off for Germany, and had even applied to Mr. Merry

for a passport, when Count Rumford told me he had received permission

from the Elector to stay a few weeks longer at Paris. This considerably

deranges my plans.’

On July 19 Rumford wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:

Rue de Clichy, 356, July 19, 1802.

MY DEAR SIR JOSEPH,--The print[9] you sent me has afforded me

much amusement, and, even more than that, it has given me real

satisfaction. It is just that ‘those who take up the sword should

perish by the sword.’ I never had a doubt who was the author of

another print which certainly was not designed to give me pleasure.

Although it has long been said, and I believe with truth, that

those who render themselves conspicuous by their superior genius,

their talents, and, above all, by their usefulness to society,

must necessarily be exposed to the shafts of envy and to the

hatred of all bad men, yet, much as I am desirous of deserving the

approbation of mankind, so far from feeling any secret satisfaction

at seeing myself distinguished by those miscreants, who may justly

be considered as the vermin of society, I lament that I am not

permitted to finish my days in peace and quietness. But the

established order of things cannot be changed, and I must endeavour

to support with patience and dignity all those evils which cannot

be avoided.

I continue to pass my time here in Paris very agreeably. The

society in which I live most is very pleasant, and I am surrounded

by a great variety of interesting objects of curiosity. I have very

often the satisfaction of hearing your name mentioned, and always

in terms of the highest possible respect. No individual was ever in

more complete possession of the enlightened world than yourself. It

is indeed true that no man ever deserved it more.

An extraordinary meeting of the first class of the Institute was

held on Saturday last for the purpose of deciding a dispute which

had arisen among the Ingénieurs des Ponts et Chaussées relative

to an intended canal from Cambray to St. Quentin, to form a

communication by water between the Belgique and the interior of

France. Two plans had been proposed, one by a M. Laurent and the

other by M. Vicque.

Laurent proposed to form the junction by one straight subterranean

canal about six French leagues in length; Vicque proposed to

avail himself of a valley, in order to diminish the length of

the subterranean passage to about three leagues. The latter was

almost unanimously approved by the Institute, though the total

length of the canal of Vicque is more than a third greater than

that of Laurent, and though it has two subterranean passages

instead of one. The First Consul was present at the discussion of

this question by the Institute, and took a very active part in

the debate. He displayed very uncommon abilities. He is indeed a

very extraordinary man. He hears with patience and with the utmost

attention every argument opposed to his own opinions, and he states

the question in dispute in so clear a light, and divests it so

completely from every consideration that is not essential, that

every difficulty seems to be removed and the decision rendered

quite plain and obvious.

I was at the public audience of the 14th of July, and dined with

the First Consul, and also stayed and spent the evening at the

Tuileries. We sat down to table about 240 persons, and about 60

or 80 of the company stayed and spent the evening. There were a

few card tables--not more than four or five. The First Consul did

not play, but walked about and talked to the company. He went out

two or three times upon an elevated terrace, or rather large open

platform, on the level of the apartment we were in to see the

illuminations of the gardens. As often as he appeared, the crowd

below saluted him by clapping hands.

He went to the opera the next evening, and, instead of occupying

his private box, which is grillé, he went and took his place in the

front of Madame Bonaparte’s box, where he was exposed to the view

of the whole house. The applause he received was quite enthusiastic

and lasted near a quarter of an hour. ‘Vive Bonaparte!’ was heard

from every part of the theatre, and the actors were obliged to

stop for some time. These applauses were again repeated when he

went away. He came to the meeting of the Institute on Saturday

without any guards, and accompanied only by his brother-in-law,

General Murat. I followed him down the stairs when he went away.

I found his carriage waiting for him, surrounded by about ten or

twelve grenadiers, who kept the crowd at a small distance from the

carriage and formed a line from the foot of the staircase. He was

received by the populace with shouts of applause, and he drove away

without guards and with a single footman behind his carriage, which

was a coach.

Thursday Morning, July 31.

This letter will be forwarded by M. d’Ifeffel, the Elector’s chargé

d’affaires at London, who will leave Paris this evening. My stay

at Paris is very uncertain; I fancy, however, that I shall set

out for Munich in the course of three or four weeks. The Elector

writes me the kindest and most flattering letters, and I have the

satisfaction to think that my stay here has been of some use to

him. I avoid most carefully every appearance of interfering in

public business, but I now and then find opportunities of putting

in a word privately where it is not lost. I fancy the Elector will

be well treated in the general arrangement which is about to take

place.

I thank you for the information you have given me relative to the

Royal Institution. It is impossible for me not to feel very deeply

interested in its fate. I hope it will prosper; I know it will if

you can support and protect it. It would grieve me to see it fall

to the ground. My health is much improved since I have been in

France. I am, indeed, now quite well. I continue to spend my time

here very agreeably. If there should be anything I could do for you

here, I hope and trust that you will have no scruples in favouring

me with your commands.

I am, and shall ever be, my dear Sir Joseph, with unalterable

attachment, yours most faithfully,

RUMFORD.

On August 10, Tuesday, Sir C. Blagden writes: ‘I am on the point of

setting out with Count Rumford for Munich. We go first to Mannheim, and

I expect to be there next Sunday; afterwards, perhaps, through that

tract of country bordering on Switzerland which will be ceded to the

Elector as a compensation, so as to reach Munich about the latter end

of this month.’

On August 30, from Munich, Sir C. Blagden wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:

I wrote to you from Paris on the day of our departure, and left the

letter to be sent by post next day. Our journey hither was made

during the hottest time of this summer; we had the thermometer

in the carriage one day at 93°, and several days within a degree

or two of it; but this great heat did not injure our health or

materially impair our spirits or appetite.

It is really pleasant to see with what respect and affection Count

Rumford is treated here by all ranks of people. I do not mean to

say that he is without enemies, for surely he has many, but all,

as far as I can learn, from envy, jealousy, or competition of

interests. The great mass of the people consider him as a public

benefactor, and would rejoice to see the government of the country

thrown into his hands. This, however, as far as I can judge from

what he says, as well as from his actions, is by no means his own

wish, and, indeed, I think he can do as much good, leading at the

same time a vastly pleasant life, if he remains simply as the

Elector’s friend. In our way we called at a convent in Bavaria, and

it was surprising to see how much attachment the monks show to him,

though they must consider him as a heretic. In spite of religious

differences he has found the means to persuade them of his general

good intentions. The Elector and every person in his family behave

to the Count with great respect, and are extremely gracious to me,

evidently for the purpose of showing regard to his introduction.

On September 1, Rumford wrote to his daughter that he found his English

Garden grown more beautiful than ever, the Elector sparing no expense

upon it. But his House for the Poor had not been well attended to,

though there were few or no beggars to be met with in the streets. The

Count says that he was received by the public with the most flattering

marks of esteem and respect. The Emperor of Russia sent him an

invitation to visit St. Petersburg, but the Count could not make up his

mind to the undertaking. He writes:

My health requires that I should keep more quiet. It is all I

ask here. I have and ask no augmentation of appointments. Many

cannot understand why I am not more anxious for places and money.

People even pretend I am going to be Minister of State; but for a

certainty I am not, neither do I desire to be. I want only quiet.

In her summary of a letter from her father, dated from Mannheim,

November 30, 1802, his daughter says that ‘he alludes to his love

concern: says he has got into full employment at Munich, but would

rather be in Paris; and the _certain lady_ would rather have him there.’

At Christmas he was still at Mannheim, and thence he wrote to the clerk

at the Institution: ‘As I have no correspondent but you who can inform

me how you are going on at the Royal Institution, you will oblige me

very much by writing to me now and then, and letting me know what you

are doing, and how the Institution stands in the public opinion. You

will easily believe that I must be very anxious to hear of its welfare

and prosperity.’ He said that he hoped to be back in April or May. In

January he sent his compliments to Dr. Young and to Mr. Davy.

Writing to his daughter again from Munich, January 22, 1803, Rumford

says he is unsettled there, and therefore that he cannot conveniently

have her with him, but that at a future time, not far distant, he will

attempt it. He spoke of the style in which he was living, having his

servants, the Aichners, with him, with his carriages. While he was at

Munich he was joined by Madame Lavoisier.

Sir C. Blagden wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:

Paris, October 15, 1802.

As a good occasion of making the journey to Paris presented itself,

I left Munich about a week sooner than I originally intended, and

have now been some days in this capital.

Count Rumford was in very good health, and proposed to spend the

winter at Munich; he was going into a magnificent house, or rather

palace, lent him by one of the nobility, an old friend, in which

he meant to give concerts as he used to do. The Elector continued

to treat him with the most marked distinction, but he did not seem

to be engaging in any public business. Indeed, the country was

rather in a state of alarm, on account of the menacing appearances

of the Emperor, who evidently wants part of Bavaria as a further

compensation to the Grand Duke. The Count’s opinion when I quitted

him was that he should be in Paris next spring, and thence return

to England.

Two months later Sir C. Blagden said: ‘The Count finds the climate of

Mannheim much milder and more suitable to his constitution than that

of Munich, which is really sharp and trying.’ And afterwards he wrote

regarding the French Institute:

Count Rumford has been removed from the third class to the first, a

change which I believe he very much desired. In consequence there

is now only one vacancy to be filled up in the first class, and I

think that Volta will be the man chosen at the next election.

Unless we are all sent away by the war, I shall probably stay near

a fortnight longer than the 5th of April.

The Count expects to be in England some time in the summer. He is

very busy making experiments on heat, and says his new-invented

instruments have already put him in possession of several new and

interesting facts.

Sir C. Blagden wrote to Rumford’s daughter from London, August 8, 1803:

When my letter of last June was written I thought your father

pretty much fixed at Munich, and therefore ventured to suggest to

you that it might contribute to your happiness if you were to be

established at that Court. But I learn since that the Elector has

set him more at his liberty, and that in consequence he intends to

return to England this autumn. Political difficulties may possibly

stand in the way of this journey, but he hopes to avoid them. I am

still as much at a loss as I was in June to answer your question

whether your father be going to marry. He is now, as I told you in

that letter, making the tour of Switzerland with a very amiable

French lady. But I have no reason to think that they have any idea

of matrimonial connexion. When the Count comes to England she is to

return to Paris; at least so he writes me word.

He wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:

Count Rumford has sent me a letter from Mannheim, dated the 13th

of September. He had applied for leave to pass through France to

England, but was refused. I suppose the French Government thought

that he too would act the spy.[10]

He professes himself still uncertain whether he should not attempt

the journey by the north of Germany, but I am myself pretty well

satisfied that he will not. In the meantime he desires me to

assure you that he will certainly contrive to send the paper on

Heat before Christmas. The King and Queen of Sweden were then at

Mannheim. He had been presented to and had dined with them.

Later he wrote:

Soho Square, September 29.

My last letter from Count Rumford was of July 31, but I have

learned otherwise that he was at Geneva about the 20th of

August, setting out for a tour to the icy mountains of Savoy. He

has permission, therefore, to travel in that part of the French

territory. Whether he will be allowed to return to England through

France, or whether he will come at all, I do not yet know.

Whilst in Switzerland Rumford wrote ‘Some Observations on the Glaciers

of Chamouni, and on the Propagation of Heat in Liquids.’ This paper

was sent to the Royal Society, of which he was then vice-president,

December 15. It was published in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ for

1804.

On December 5, 1803, Sir C. Blagden again wrote to Rumford’s daughter:

All I can tell you about your father is this: He continued

travelling with the French lady till about the middle of September,

when she left him at Mannheim and returned to Paris. Your father

had applied to the French Government for leave to come to England

through France, but was refused. In consequence he remained at

Mannheim till the middle of October, when, having by some means,

I do not know how, induced the French Government to change their

resolution, and allow him to travel in France, he set out for

Paris; and I know that he was in that city on the 1st of November.

In the last letter I received from him, which was written the day

before he set out from Mannheim, he said that he had great hopes

of being in England before the end of this year. Since that time I

have heard nothing from him. He continues very intimate with the

lady, but whether it will end in a marriage I cannot say. My own

opinion is rather inclined to the negative, yet I have no good

foundation for it.

Since this was written I have received a letter from your father,

dated at Paris, November 11. By this it is evident that he expects

to marry the French lady, though nothing is yet finally determined.

On March 12, 1804, he again writes from Liverpool:

The last account I received of your father was dated the 19th of

January. He was then at Paris, very assiduous in his attentions to

the French lady, with whom, indeed, he spent most of his time. But

I believe she had not then determined to marry him, and I am still

inclined to think she never will. In the meantime he is entirely

losing his interest in the country. His residence at Paris this

winter, whilst we were threatened with an invasion, is considered

by everyone as very improper conduct, and his numerous enemies do

not fail to make the most of it. He has quarrelled with Mr. Bernard

and others of his old friends at the Royal Institution, and they do

all they can to render him unpopular. Probably he has written to

you more than once by American ships since his residence at Paris.

To me he wrote on the 12th of November, about a fortnight after his

arrival there. But I expect no other letter from him, as it would

certainly be imprudent in him to keep up a correspondence with this

country during his residence in France.

On January 22, 1804, Rumford wrote to his daughter:

I shall withhold this information from you no longer. I really

do think of marrying, though I am not yet absolutely determined

on matrimony. I made the acquaintance of this very amiable woman

in Paris, who, I believe, would have no objection in having me

for a husband, and who in all respects would be a proper match

for me. She is a widow, without children, never having had any,

is about my own age, enjoys good health, is very pleasant in

society, has a handsome fortune at her own disposal, enjoys a most

respectable reputation, keeps a good house, which is frequented by

all the first philosophers and men of eminence in the science and

literature of the age, or rather of Paris, and, what is more than

all the rest, is goodness itself.... She is very clever (according

to the English signification of the word); in short, she is

another Lady Palmerston. She has been very handsome in her day, and

even now, at forty-six or forty-eight, is not bad-looking; of a

middling size, but rather _en bon point_ than thin. She has a great

deal of vivacity and writes incomparably well.

He soon after writes again of the lady: ‘She is fond of travelling,

and wishes to make the tour of Italy with me. She appears to be most

sincerely attached to me, and I esteem and love her very much.’

On February 7, 1804, the Count writes again from Paris. He and Madame

Lavoisier were then making preparations for their marriage. She

deposited in his name one hundred and twenty thousand _livres_ in the

five per cent. French funds, which was to go to the survivor of the

three--herself, himself, or his daughter. An income of six thousand a

year out of her own property was secured to Madame Lavoisier. Her house

in Paris, as well as the Count’s at Brompton, was to revert to the

survivor of the two.

On July 2 he said:

MY DEAR SALLY,--This letter, which will be entirely devoted to very

serious and important business, will, no doubt, obtain your serious

attention.

In order to be able to complete in a _legal manner_ some domestic

arrangements of great importance to me and to you, I have lately

found, to my no small surprise, that certificates of my birth and

of the death of my former wife are indispensably necessary. You

can, no doubt, very easily procure them--the one from the town

clerk of Woburn, the other from the town clerk of Concord. And I

request that you would do it without loss of time, and send them

to me under cover, or rather in a letter addressed to me and sent

to the care of my bankers in London. As an accident may possibly

happen to that letter, I beg you would at the same time send

another set of these certificates directly to Paris, addressed to

me, rue de Clichy, No. 356.

On July 3 he wrote to Mr. Savage, the clerk of the Royal Institution:

With regard to the outstanding bills which you mention, as I intend

and expect to come to England soon, they may as well stand on till

my arrival. Some of the charges require examination. It gives me

great pleasure to hear that my house is kept in good order. I hope

to inhabit it next winter.

On August 10 the Count left Paris for Munich.

On May 1, 1805, he wrote to the clerk of the Royal Institution:

Munich, May 1.

I have written to Mr. Herries respecting the letting or selling

of my house. I hear that the Royal Institution is become a great

favourite with the public. I am sorry, however, to find that the

Journals of the Institution have not been continued. I desire you

would make my compliments to Mr. Davy, and tell him that I am still

employed in my researches on heat and light. I should be glad to

know what he is doing, for I am sure he cannot be idle. It is now

more uncertain than ever when I shall have it in my power to visit

England.

To his daughter he wrote, June 18, from Munich:

I left Paris the 9th of June, and arrived here the 16th. My stay

here is uncertain, for many things are yet wanting that are

indispensably necessary for the success of such an establishment

as the Academy of Arts and Sciences.[11] I continue to pursue my

philosophical researches, and that will ever be the most pleasing

occupation I can have.

On September 17 he was again in Paris.

He wrote to his daughter:

Rue d’Anjou, No. 39, Paris, October 25, 1805.

You will have intelligence by the papers of the events that have

lately taken place in Germany. Foreseeing the storm, I left Munich

the day before the Elector left it. I have brought Aichner and his

whole family, not being willing to leave them behind. I succeeded

in so winding up my affairs in Bavaria as in the future to be able

to live where I please. I shall, of course, go from time to time to

pay my respects to the Elector, for he has ever treated me with too

much respect for me to be negligent on that account towards him.

I have informed you before of the arrangements Madame Lavoisier

and I had made in case of our marriage, which, in fact, took place

yesterday.

I have the best-founded hopes of passing my days in peace and quiet

in this paradise of a place, made what it is by me--my money,

skill, and directions. In short, it is all but a paradise, removed

from the noise and bustle of the street, facing full to the south,

in the midst of a beautiful garden of more than two acres, well

planted with trees and shrubbery. The entrance from the street is

through an iron gate, by a beautiful winding avenue, well planted,

and the porter’s lodge is by the side of this gate; a great bell to

be rung in case of ceremonious visits.

The daughter’s comment on this letter is: ‘It seems there had been an

acquaintance between these parties of four years before marriage. It

might be thought a long space of time enough for perfect acquaintance.

But, ah Providence! thy ways are past finding out.’

Dr. Ellis, the biographer of Rumford, says:

An interval, though a very brief one, of cheerfulness and

satisfaction, was enjoyed by the Count after his marriage. There

were but two letters to his daughter recognising this state of

content and pleasant anticipation. He informed her that he left

Munich under the pleasantest relations with the Bavarian sovereign

and his friends at that Court. He had received a letter from

Maximilian, congratulating him on his marriage and approving of

his settling himself in France, and at the same time adding four

thousand florins a year to his pay.

One letter was dated from Paris, December 20, 1805, two months after

his marriage:

I gave up my lodgings on quitting Munich, and managed so as to

settle all concerns of business. I flatter myself I am settled

down here for life, far removed from wars and all arduous duties,

as a recompense for past services, with plenty to live upon and

at liberty to pursue my own natural propensities, such as have

occupied me through life--a life, as I try to fancy, that may come

under the denomination of a benefit to mankind.

Next spring we are going to travel into Italy and the south of

France, to be gone two years, so you must patiently stay where you

are for the present.

You will wish to know what sort of a place we live in. The house is

rather an old-fashioned concern, but in a plot of over two acres of

land, in the very centre and finest part of Paris, near the Champs

Elysées and the Tuileries and principal boulevards. I have already

made great alterations in our place, and shall do a vast deal more.

When these are done I think Madame de Rumford will find it in a

very different condition from that in which it was, that being very

pitiful with all her riches.

Our style of living is really magnificent. Madame is exceedingly

fond of company, and makes a splendid figure in it herself. But

she seldom goes out, keeping open doors; that is to say, to all

the great and worthy, such as the philosophers, members of the

Institute, ladies of celebrity, &c.

On Mondays we have eight or ten of the most noted of our associates

to dinner. Thursdays are devoted to evening company, of ladies and

gentlemen, without regard to numbers. Tea and fruits are given, the

guests continuing till twelve or after. Often superb concerts are

given, with the finest vocal and instrumental performers.

At this time Sir C. Blagden wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:

I have received a letter, dated November 22, from a lady in Paris,

which contains no kind of news except the following article about

Count Rumford and his lady: ‘Madame Lavoisier s’appelle à présent

Madame de Rumford. J’ai vu Madame de Rumford [the writer of the

letter has been returned to Paris only two days]. Ils ne donnent

ni l’un ni l’autre aucun détail sur leur mariage ni sur l’époque;

un jour ils l’ont dit à leurs amis, et il n’y a pas eu plus de

formalité que cela. Ils sont sur un pied fort amical, mais ils

étaient ainsi depuis longtemps. La maison de Mdme. de Rumford est

charmante. Elle l’embellit tous les jours et avec beaucoup de goût.’

On January 15, 1806, Rumford wrote to his daughter:

The newspapers will acquaint you with the other particulars of this

peace, which will occasion a great change in the political state of

Germany, as, in fact, of all Europe. I hope that I shall not, and

I do not think that I shall, lose by any of these changes. At all

events the Elector, or rather the new King, has just written me a

very kind letter, giving me hopes, rather than suggesting fears of

anything of a disagreeable nature. But dependencies like mine can

never be otherwise than uncertain, as I feel it, notwithstanding

my marriage. I may make a change, after all, but never certainly

to the disadvantage of anyone. Between you and myself, as a family

secret, I am not at all sure that two certain persons were not

wholly mistaken, in their marriage, as to each other’s characters.

Time will show. But two months barely expired, I forebode

difficulties. Already I am obliged to send my good Germans home--a

great discomfort to me and wrong to them.

On March 8, 1806, Sir C. Blagden, who had quarrelled with his friend

because he thought that Count Rumford had not defended him from the

imputation of acting as a spy in Paris in 1803, wrote to Rumford’s

daughter regarding the marriage:

They are now living together in Paris, and, as far as I can learn,

very happily. I know nothing of it from your father himself, which

is not surprising, as I some time since intimated to him my wish

that our correspondence should cease. We are not, to the best of my

knowledge, on terms of enmity, but it is not likely that any kind

of confidence or friendship should subsist between us again.

In 1806 and 1807 Count Rumford sought for relief by the pursuit of

science. He published in the Memoirs of the mathematical class of

the Institute a continuation and extension of his investigations on

light and heat. These were in the sixth, seventh, and eighth volumes,

and made nine papers. 1. ‘A Description of a New Thermoscope or

Differential Thermometer.’ 2. ‘Researches on Heat, Showing the Effect

of Difference of Surface on Radiation.’ 3. ‘Further Experiments on

the Effect of Blackening the Surface.’ 4. ‘Researches Continued on

the Different Properties of Bodies with Respect to Radiation and to

Conducting Powers.’ 5. ‘Further Researches on the Passage of Heat

through Solids.’ 6. ‘Experiments on the Heat of the Solar Rays.’ 7.

‘Remarks on the Temperature of Water at the Maximum Density.’ He made

it 41° F. or 5° C. This paper was published in the ‘Philosophical

Transactions.’ 8. On the ‘Dispersion of the Light of Lamps by Screens

of Ground Glass, Silk, and so forth, with a Description of a New Lamp.’

He had an illuminator constructed and presented to the Institute.

This paper was published in England as his sixteenth essay on the

‘Management of Light in Illuminations.’ 9. On the ‘Cooling of Liquids

in Vases of Porcelain, Gilt or not Gilt.’

In October 1806 he gave this sad account to his daughter:

MY DEAR CHILD,--This being the first year’s anniversary of my

marriage, from what I wrote two months after it, you will be

curious to know how things stand at present. I am sorry to say

that experience only serves to confirm me in the belief that in

character and natural propensities Madame de Rumford and myself

are totally unlike, and never ought to have thought of marrying.

We are, besides, both too independent, both in our sentiments

and habits of life, to live peaceably together--she having been

mistress all her days of her actions, and I, with no less liberty,

leading for the most part the life of a bachelor. Very likely she

is as much disaffected towards me as I am towards her. Little it

matters with me, but I call her a female dragon--simply by that

gentle name! We have got to the pitch of my insisting on one thing

and she on another.

It is possible that, had the war ceased raging, and had we gone

into Italy, where she is dying to go, and with me too, she having

heard me speak much of the delights of that country, she having

been very happy, too, in travelling with me in Switzerland, it

might have suspended difficulties, but never have effected a cure.

That is out of the question. Indeed, I have not the least idea of

continuing here, and, if possible, still less the wish, and am only

planning in my mind what steps I shall take next--to be hoped more

to my advantage. Communication with England is prohibited, and it

makes me sad.

He wrote more pitiably a year later:

Rue d’Anjou, Paris, October 24, 1807.

I can do no more, my dear Sally, than simply give you the latest

news upon this the anniversary of my marriage, for I am still here,

and so far from things getting better they become worse every day.

We are more violent and more open, and more public, as may really

be said, in our quarrels. If she does not mind publicity, for a

certainty I shall not. As I write the uncouth word _quarrels_, I

will give you an idea of one of them.

In the first place be it known that this estate is a joint concern.

I have as good a right to it as Madame, she having paid rather

more in the beginning, but I an immensity of money in repairs and

alterations, &c. &c., besides a great deal of my own time and care

spent while we have been here.

I am almost afraid to tell you the story, my good child, lest in

future you should not be good; lest what I am about relating should

set you a bad example, make you passionate, and so on. But I had

been made very angry. A large party had been invited I neither

liked nor approved of, and invited for the sole purpose of vexing

me. Our house being in the centre of the garden, walled around,

with iron gates, I put on my hat, walked down to the porter’s lodge

and gave him orders, on his peril, not to let anyone in. Besides, I

took away the keys. Madame went down, and when the company arrived

she talked with them, she on one side, they on the other, of the

high brick wall. After that she goes and pours boiling water on

some of my beautiful flowers.

And the wretched climax came the next year:

Rue d’Anjou, St. Honoré, No. 39, Paris, April 12, 1808.

After what you know, my dear Sally, of my domestic troubles you

will naturally be anxious to know the present state of things.

There are no alterations for the better. On the contrary, much

worse. I have suffered more than you can imagine for the last four

weeks; but my rights are incontestable, and I am determined to

maintain them. I have the misfortune to be married to one of the

most imperious, tyrannical, unfeeling women that ever existed, and

whose perseverance in pursuing an object is equal to her profound

cunning and wickedness in framing it.

It is impossible to continue in this way, and we shall separate. I

only wish it was well over. It is probable I shall take a house at

Auteuil, a very pleasant place, with the Seine on one side and the

Bois de Boulogne on the other, about a league from Paris. I have

seen a very handsome house there which I can have--rather dear,

but that matters little can I but find quiet. It would be truly

unfortunate, after the King of Bavaria’s late bounties joined to

former ones, if I could not live more independently than with this

unfeeling, cunning, tyrannical woman.

Little do we know people at first sight! Do you preserve my

letters? You will perceive that I have given very different

accounts of this woman, for _lady_ I cannot call her.

Now, my dear Sally, as soon as I get settled, enjoying again

independence, I shall wish you to join me.

In the meantime believe me your affectionate Father.

The Count bought the lease of his villa at Auteuil in April 1808.

For the last two or three months of his most miserable married life he

was seriously ill. The nature of his illness is seen by the remedies

that benefited him. He told his daughter that the King of Bavaria,

having knowledge of his domestic discomforts, had recently written him

a letter that had done him much good. ‘He speaks most kindly to me, and

encourages me to bear my misfortunes like a man of firmness who has

nothing to reproach himself with.’

The separation took place amicably on June 30, 1809. He soon after

wrote to his daughter:

I find myself relieved from an almost insupportable burden. I

cannot repeat too much how happy I am, gaining every day in

health, which, from vexations, had become seriously deranged. I am

persuaded it is all for the best. After the scenes which I have

recently passed through I realise, as never before, the sweets of

quiet, liberty, and independence. My household consists of the

most faithful, honest people, attached to me, without dissension,

bribery, or malice. And, above all, that eternal contradiction. Oh!

happy, thrice happy, am I to be my own man again!

Later he wrote:

Madame de Rumford is well. I see her sometimes, though very seldom.

After what is past a reconciliation is impossible. She now repents

of her conduct, but it is too late. The less I see her the better.

I now enjoy peace and tranquillity, and my health improves every

day.

Again:

Auteuil, October 24, 1809.

DEAR SALLY,--The ‘Mentor’ arrived some weeks since, when I was

expecting you. Without doubt the reason you did not come was owing

to your not finding proper protection, and in these terrible times

of war you cannot be too particular. This unfortunate war chains me

to the spot, for I am so situated between three governments that I

am obliged almost to turn into a cypher. It is to England I want

to go, but dare not risk it. And it is there I should much prefer

receiving you than here.

By the date of this letter you will perceive it to be the

anniversary of my wedding-day with Madame Lavoisier to-day four

years. I own I make choice of this day to write to you, in reality

to testify joy, but joy that I am away from her, as has been the

case for the last six months. It would be difficult to describe

what I suffered there for the last year. I often wished for you,

but am now exceedingly glad you did not come, as it would have made

you unhappy and perhaps have done me no good. I was made quite

ill at last, but now, thank Heaven, I am recovering my health and

spirits fast. I am like one risen from the dead. Adieu, my dear

child. You will hear from me soon again, and I hope to see you

soon. I have some pretty rooms prepared for you. I had one of the

Aichners to come and wait upon you, but she did not exactly please

me, and I sent her back again. My old servants, her father and

mother, are nicely established, owing to mine and the Elector’s

kindness, at Munich, and are very happy.

Auteuil, November 12, 1809.

MY DEAR DAUGHTER,--Here is another month past, and you do not come.

I know all the difficulties of travelling either by sea or by land,

so do not blame you; am only sorry. Sorry on several accounts--on

one account that I want to see you. For do you recollect, my dear,

that it is many years since we saw each other? We will not say how

many, lest the time should seem longer. And little did I think,

when you quitted me at Brompton, it would have been for such a

length of time, nor would it have been but for this unfortunate

marriage. Never were there two more distinct beings than this

woman (for I cannot call her a lady) before and after marriage.

But undoubtedly she was pushed on by those looking forward to her

fortune, fearing some of it would light on me. She is the most

avaricious woman I ever saw, and the most cunning--things which I

could not possibly know before marriage.

I suffered more for the last fourteen months--indeed, the whole

three years and a half that I lived with her--than I had an idea I

could have gone through. Luckily I have money enough of my own, but

war and these terrible times prevent me from receiving money from

Bavaria, or my half-pay from England. Yet I am obliged to keep up a

certain consequence, besides being disgusted with everything. I am

afraid you will have to quit the world if you stay with me.

Auteuil, January 10, 1810.

Here month after month arrives, but you do not come. I am very

impatient to see you, but I am more anxious lest something should

happen to you on the way, for discord reigns everywhere.

Later he said:

I am absolutely obliged to set out for Munich, so if you come in

the time you must make yourself comfortable. If I find you here on

my return, it will give me much pleasure.

The King has been in Paris, and invited me so kindly I thought it

my duty to go; but he assures me I shall not be detained there on

any business of importance.

On his arrival in Munich he wrote:

My reception here has been most kind and flattering. The whole town

is in expectation of seeing me again fixed here and employed in the

public affairs of the country. But I know positively, and it is my

greatest consolation, that I shall be permitted to return quietly

to my retreat at Auteuil.

Adieu, my dear Sally. I shall write to you again, I think, before

leaving Munich; but you had better not write me, lest I should be

already set out on my return.

My health is perfectly good, and I am very happy. All my late

sufferings are forgotten. I feel as if just relieved from an

insupportable weight. God be thanked for my delivery! All your

friends here have desired to be remembered to you. Adieu, my dear

Sally; make yourself as comfortable and happy as you can, and be

assured that I have at length quite recovered my reason, and that

I am now persuaded that all that has happened to me has been most

fortunate for me. I am now a free man.

Munich, October 24, 1810.

You will perceive that this is the anniversary of my marriage.

I am happy to call it to mind, that I may compare my present

situation with the three and a half horrible years I was living

with that tyrannical, avaricious, unfeeling woman. You can have no

idea, my dear Sally, what I had to suffer during the last fourteen

months--indeed, during the whole three years and a half I lived in

that house--but the closing six months was a purgatory sufficiently

painful to do away the sins of a thousand years.

The Prince Royal was married on the 12th, and we have had continued

_fêtes_ and rejoicings. The English Garden is in high beauty; no

expense is spared upon it. I am allowed to dine with the King

pretty much as often as I wish, but to-morrow I take leave of him,

of Munich, and the rest of my friends; so you will soon, my dear

Sally, see me at Auteuil.

In December 1811 his daughter arrived at Auteuil, and found him in

excellent health. She writes:

I had not been many days at Auteuil before we had a visit from his

separated lady, for they seemed to be on good terms--at least on

visiting terms. The lady was gracious to me, and I was charmed with

her, nor did I ever after find reason to be otherwise, for she was

truly an admirable character. Their disagreements must have arisen

from their independence of character and means; being used always

to having their own ways. Their pursuits in some particulars were

different. He was fond of his experiments, and she of company.

A picture of Madame de Rumford was thus drawn by M. Guizot in 1841,

five years after her death:

Soit affection pour son mari, soit disposition naturelle, Madame

Lavoisier s’associa à ses travaux comme un compagnon ou un

disciple. Ceux-là même qui ne l’ont connue que bien loin de la

jeunesse ont pu démêler que sous une apparence un peu froide et

rude, et presque uniquement préoccoupée de sa vie de société,

c’était une personne capable d’être fortement saisie par un

sentiment, par une idée, et de s’y adonner avec passion. Elle

vivait dans le laboratoire de M. Lavoisier, l’aidait dans ses

expériences, écrivait ses observations sous sa dictée, traduisait,

définait pour lui. Elle apprit à graver, pour qu’il fût sûr d’un

ouvrier exact jusqu’au scrupule, et les planches du ‘Traité de

Chimie’ furent bien réellement l’œuvre de ses mains. Elle publia,

parce qu’il le désirait, la traduction d’un ouvrage du chimiste

anglais Kirwan sur ‘la Force des Acides et la Proportion des

Substances qui composent les Sels neutres,’ et elle avait acquis,

de la science qu’ils cultivaient ensemble, une intelligence si

complète que lorsqu’en 1805, onze ans après la mort de Lavoisier,

elle voulut réunir et publier ses mémoires scientifiques, elle

put se charger seule de ce travail et l’accomplit en effet, en y

joignant une préface parfaitement simple, où ne se laisse entrevoir

aucune ombre de prétention.

Un intérieur aussi animé par affection réciproque et des

occupations favorites, une grande fortune, beaucoup de

considération, une bonne maison à l’Arsenal, recherchée par les

hommes les plus distingués, tous les plaisirs de l’esprit, de la

richesse, de la jeunesse, c’était là, à coup sûr, une existence

brillante et douce. Cette existence fut frappée, foudroyée par la

Révolution, comme toutes celles qui l’entouraient. En 1794 Mdme.

Lavoisier vit monter le même jour sur l’échafaud son père et son

mari, et elle n’échappa elle-même, apres un emprisonnement assez

court, qu’en plongeant avec la patience la plus persévérante dans

la plus complète et silencieuse obscurité.

Quand les proscriptions cessèrent, quand l’ordre et la justice

revinrent apaiser et ranimer en même temps la société, Mdme.

Lavoisier reprit sa place dans le monde, entourée de toute une

génération de savants illustres, les amis, les disciples, les

successeurs de Lavoisier, Lagrange, Laplace, Berthollet, Cuvier,

Prony, Humboldt, Arago, charmés en honorant sa veuve de trouver

dans sa maison, en retour de l’éclat qu’ils y répandaient, les

agréments d’une hospitalité élégante. M. de Rumford arriva parmi

eux. Il était alors au service du roi de Bavière et jouissait dans

le public d’une grande popularité scientifique; son esprit était

élevé, sa conversation pleine d’intérêt, ses manières empreintes

de bonté. Il plut à Mdme. Lavoisier; il s’accordait avec ses

habitudes, ses goûts, on pourrait presque dire avec ses souvenirs.

Elle espéra recommencer en quelque sorte son bonheur. Elle l’épousa

le 22 October, 1805, heureuse d’offrir à un homme distingué une

grande fortune et la plus agréable existence.

Leurs caractères ne se convinrent point. A la jeunesse seule

il est facile d’oublier au sein d’un tendre bonheur la perte

de l’indépendence. Des questions délicates furent élevées, des

susceptibilités s’éveillèrent. Mdme. de Rumford en se remariant

avait formellement stipulé dans son contrat qu’elle se ferait

appeler Madame Lavoisier de Rumford. M. de Rumford, qui y avait

consenti, finit par le trouver mauvais. Elle persista. ‘J’ai

regardé comme un devoir, comme une religion,’ écrivait-elle en

1808, ‘de ne point quitter le nom de Lavoisier.... Comptant sur

la parole de M. de Rumford je n’en aurais pas fait un article de

mes engagements civils avec lui, si je n’avais voulu laisser un

acte public de mon respect pour M. Lavoisier et une preuve de la

générosité de M. de Rumford. C’est un devoir pour moi de tenir à

une détermination qui a toujours été une des conditions de notre

union; et j’ai dans le fond de mon âme l’intime conviction que M.

de Rumford ne me désapprouvera pas et qu’après avoir pris le temps

d’y réfléchir ... il me permettra de continuer à remplir un devoir

que je regarde comme sacré.’

Ce fut encore là une espérance trompée. Après des agitations

domestiques, que M. de Rumford avec plus de tact eût rendues moins

bruyantes, la séparation devint nécessaire, et elle eut lieu à

l’aimable le 30 juin, 1809.

Depuis cette époque et pendant vingt-sept ans aucun événement, on

pourrait dire aucun incident, ne dérangea plus Mdme. de Rumford

dans sa noble et agréable façon de vivre. Elle n’appartint plus

qu’à ses amis et à la société, tantôt étendue, tantôt resserrée,

qu’elle recevait avec un mélange assez singulier de rudesse et

de politesse, toujours de très-bonne compagnie et d’une grande

intelligence du monde même dans ses brusqueries de langage et ses

fantaisies d’autorité.

In February 1812 Count Rumford gave his mother 10,000 dollars in 3½ per

cent. stock as a free gift, and he wrote to her:

I desire that you will accept of it as a token of my dutiful

affection for you, and of my gratitude for the kind care you

took of me in the early part of my life. I have the greatest

satisfaction in being able to show my gratitude for all your

goodness to me, and to contribute to your ease and comfort. I

request that you will consider this donation as being perfectly

free and unconditional, and that you would enjoy and dispose of

what is now your property just as you shall think best and most

conducive to your happiness and to your satisfaction, without any

regard to any former arrangements you have made at my request.

My health continues to be good, and I yet feel none of those

infirmities of age which sometimes render the evening of life

painful. I have the satisfaction to think that I have done my duty

through life, and that is a great consolation to me as I approach

the end of my course. I shall never cease to be, my dear mother,

your dutiful and affectionate child,

BENJAMIN.

On January 23 he had a paper read before the Royal Society which he

published as his seventeenth essay. It was an ‘Inquiry Concerning

the Source of the Light which is Manifested in the Combustion of

Inflammable Bodies.’

His object was to prove by decisive experiments that the light which

accompanies the complete combustion of any given quantity of pure

inflammable matter is variable, and therefore light cannot be one of

the chemical products of combustion.

If light were a substance, as has been supposed, it seems highly

probable that means would long since have been found to discover

where and how it exists; but if it be nothing more than a blow

given to the eye by the repercussion of an ethereal fluid which

touches that organ and at the same time every other body in the

universe, it is evident that all attempts to discover it in a state

of combination must be vain.

Nobody, I imagine, ever thought of searching for sound in a

fulminating powder. Is it more reasonable to search there for the

light that accompanies the combustion of substances?

The greatest light may be obtained by preserving the heat of the

flame. Thus several flat flames placed together, in order that

they may mutually cover and defend each other against the powerful

cooling influence of surrounding bodies, form a lamp that has

answered far beyond my most sanguine expectation.

I lose no time in giving an account of the principles on which it

is constructed, in hopes that others may be induced to assist in

improving it.

So far from being jealous of their success I shall rejoice in it,

and shall ever be most ready to contribute to it by all the means

in my power.

On February 24 he had a paper read before the French Institute on the

‘Heat Manifested in the Combustion of Inflammable Substances.’

On August 1 he published his last essay, the eighteenth, of the

‘Excellent Qualities of Coffee and the Art of Making it in the Highest

Perfection.’

In 1813 the founder of the Royal Institution once more met Davy, then

the great discoverer who by his eloquence and genius had saved the

Rumford Institution from an early death.

In the ‘Life of Davy,’ by Dr. Paris, it is said, probably on the

authority of Mr. Underwood, ‘On November 10 they (Underwood and Davy)

dined at Auteuil with Count Rumford, at this time a prisoner in France,

who showed his laboratory to Davy. This was exactly eight months

before the poor, broken-hearted Count sank into the grave, the victim

of domestic torment and of the persecutions of the French savans,

instigated by his wife, the widow of the celebrated Lavoisier.’

The following account of Count Rumford’s life at Auteuil was probably

also written by his friend Mr. Underwood. It was published in the

‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ in 1814:

After the death of his worthy friend, the illustrious Lagrange, he

saw only his next-door neighbour, the Senator Leconteux Caneleux;

Mr. Underwood, a member of the Royal Institution, who assisted

him in his experiments; and an old friend, Mr. Parker, a learned

American, who possesses a splendid mansion in Paris and a very fine

landed estate and agricultural establishment in its environs. He

ceased to attend the sittings of the National Institute; but for

the perpetual secretary, Cuvier, a man as morally estimable as

his talents are superior to his French fellow-members, he always

preserved the highest admiration and esteem.

One object of his later occupations was a work--not yet finished,

though it has been constantly going on for more than twenty

years--on the ‘Nature and Effects of Order,’ which, had he been

spared to finish it, would probably have been one of the most

valuable presents ever made to domestic society. No man in all his

habits had more the spirit of order; everything was classed; no

object was ever allowed to remain an instant out of its place the

moment he had done with it, and he was never behind his time in an

appointment a single instant.

He was also latterly employed on a series of experiments on the

propagation of heat in solids. He had by him several unpublished

works, particularly one of considerable interest on Meteorolites,

in which he demonstrated that they came from regions beyond the

atmosphere of the earth. He has left several memoirs in French

(of which he had a few copies printed for the use of his friends)

on the quantity of heat obtained by the combustion of various

substances and the relative quantity of light from others, with a

description of different improvements in the construction of lamps,

which he had the satisfaction of seeing very generally adopted in

Paris. His admirable paper on the ‘Advantages of Broad Wheels

to Carriages’ is well known. He put this in practice in his own

chariot; but, though there could be no doubt of their advantages,

they were not used by others, the Count’s being the only carriage

in Paris that had them. Nor did anyone follow (which is not to be

wondered at) his whimsical winter dress, which was entirely white,

even his hat. This he adopted agreeably to the law of nature, that

more heated rays are thrown from a dark body than from a light

one. I do not know whether his very simple, and I may add perfect,

calorimeter is known in England. The apparatus with which he was

making a series of experiments on the relative conducting powers

of different solid bodies for heat, and which death prevented his

completing, is of the greatest beauty. It consists of a cylindrical

vessel of cork (which is a perfect non-conductor of heat), in

the centre of the bottom of which the small solid cylinder of

the substance to be experimented upon is fitted into an aperture

of exactly the same diameter as the cylindrical vessel, which is

then filled with water, and heat from the flame of a spirit-lamp

is applied to the lower extremity of the substance; the time

the heat takes to pass through and raise the temperature of the

water indicates the relative conducting powers of the different

substances through which it is made to pass. He has repeatedly

declared to me it was his decided opinion that heat and light were

the result of vibrations in bodies, and were not bodies themselves.

He had lately brought to the greatest perfection a lamp for

burning spirits of wine, and by which all explosion was rendered

impossible. This in France is of the greatest convenience, where,

from the low price of alcohol, it is nearly as economical as any

other fuel for heating water.

The Count met with considerable plague in his pursuits from the

malignant disposition and jealousies of his fellow-members of the

National Institute, in consequence of having differed in opinion on

capillary attraction from their despotic leader, Laplace. He often

used to exclaim that no one who had not lived a considerable time

in France could imagine how contemptible a nation they are, and how

void of honour and even honesty. Whenever he ordered any instrument

at a mathematical instrument maker’s a similar one was instantly

made for some one of the Great Nation, though of the intended use

they were at the moment ignorant; but the hope of supplanting a

foreigner and of arrogating to themselves a discovery (a common

practice with them) incited them to adopt this dishonourable

practice. This forced him to send for a workman from Germany, whom

he constantly employed, and who lived in his house. I was one day

with the Count at a sitting of the first class of the Institute,

when we heard one of the leading members declare that they would

set their faces against any discovery which did not originate among

themselves.

The Count displayed extraordinary spirited conduct and firmness

in refusing the French the passage of the city of Munich. He used

often to dwell with much pleasure on having been the means of

bringing forward two celebrated characters, the Bavarian general

Wieden and Sir Humphry Davy--the former originally a lawyer, or a

land steward, and possessing great military dispositions; Count

Rumford, then Minister of War to the Elector of Bavaria, gave him a

commission: and the latter was recommended to him when he had the

direction of the Royal Institution by Mr. Underwood, and was made

Lecturer on Chemistry.

The climate of France agreeing with him far better than that of

Bavaria, he received permission of the King of Bavaria to reside

there; and his half-pay as lieutenant-general in his service and

pension of retreat as minister of his late father [uncle] were

regularly paid him, amounting to about twelve hundred pounds

sterling _per annum_. It was this which prevented his return to

England, as Bonaparte would not, in that case, have allowed his

vassal, the King of Bavaria, to have paid the Count.

When Bavaria joined in the coalition for the emancipation of Europe

it was agitated in Bonaparte’s council to send the Count away.

However, as it was proved that he scarcely ever stirred out of his

house, he was allowed to remain.

The German, French, Spanish, and Italian languages were as familiar

to the Count as the English, both in speaking and writing. His only

recreations were playing at billiards against himself, for want of

one to play with, and walking in his garden, of which he was very

fond, though ignorant of botany and even of the common names of the

commonest plants. He was very fond of chess, at which he played

well, but rarely enjoyed this pleasure, as he said that after a

few minutes’ play his feet became like ice and his head like fire.

He drew with great skill the designs of his own inventions, but

of painting and sculpture he had no knowledge and little feeling;

nor had he any taste for poetry. He had, however, great taste for

landscape-gardening.

His habits of life were latterly most abstemious, so much so that

he had not sufficient vital strength to resist a nervous fever,

which carried him off on the 21st of August, after three days’

illness, when he was on the eve of returning to England, to which

as long as he lived he retained the most devoted attachment.

In the ‘Moniteur Universel’ of August 25, 1814, the death and burial of

Count Rumford are mentioned. An address was pronounced over his grave

by the Baron Benjamin Delessert, his friend and banker in Paris, on the

24th.

The news of Count Rumford’s illness and burial reached the French

Academy at the same time, so that the members were unable to attend

his funeral. On January 9, 1815, Baron Cuvier read his éloge to the

Academy. In it he said:

Nous l’y avons vu, en effet, pendant dix ans honoré des Français

et des étrangers, estimé des amis des sciences, partageant leurs

travaux, aidant de ses avis jusqu’aux moindres artisans, gratifiant

noblement le public de tout ce qu’il inventait chaque jour d’utile.

Rien n’y aurait manqué à la douceur de son existence si l’aménité

de son commerce avait égalé son ardeur pour l’utilité publique.

Mais il faut l’avouer, il perçait dans sa conversation et dans

toute sa manière d’être un sentiment qui devait paraître fort

extraordinaire dans un homme si constamment bien traité par les

autres, et qui leur avait fait lui-même tant de bien: c’est que

c’était sans les aimer et sans les estimer qu’il avait rendu tous

ces services à ses semblables. Apparemment que les passions viles

qu’il avait observées dans les misérables commis à ses soins ou ces

autres passions non moins viles que sa fortune avait excitées parmi

ses rivaux l’avaient ulcéré contre la nature humaine. Aussi ne

pensait-il point que l’on doit confier au commun des hommes le soin

de leur bien-être; ce besoin qui leur semble si naturel d’examiner

comment ils sont régis n’était à ses yeux qu’un produit factice des

fausses lumières. Il avait sur l’esclavage à peu près les idées

d’un planteur, et il regardait le gouvernement de la Chine comme

le plus voisin de la perfection, parce qu’en livrant le peuple au

pouvoir absolu des seuls hommes instruits, et en élevant chacun

de ceux-ci dans la hiérarchie selon le degré de son instruction,

il fait en quelque sorte de tant de millions de bras les organes

passifs de la volonté de quelques bonnes têtes--doctrine que

nous exposons sans prétendre la justifier en rien et que nous

savons de reste être peu propre à faire fortune chez nos nations

européennes. M. de Rumford a éprouvé lui-même à plus d’une reprise

qu’il n’est pas si aisé dans l’occident qu’en Chine d’engager les

autres à n’être que des bras; et cependant personne ne s’était

autant préparé que lui à bien se servir de bras qu’on lui aurait

soumis. Un empire tel qu’il le concevait ne lui aurait pas été

plus difficile à conduire que ses casernes et ses maisons de

pauvres; il se confiait surtout pour cela à la puissance de

l’ordre. Il appelait l’ordre l’auxiliaire nécessaire du génie,

le seul instrument possible d’un véritable bien et presque une

divinité subordonnée régulatrice de ce bas monde. Il se proposait

d’en faire l’objet d’un ouvrage qu’il regardait comme devant être

plus important que tous ceux qu’il a écrits; mais on n’en a trouvé

dans ses papiers que quelques matériaux informes. Lui-même de

sa personne était sur tous les points et sous tous les rapports

imaginables le modèle de l’ordre; ses besoins, ses plaisirs, ses

travaux, étaient calculés comme ses expériences. Il ne buvait que

de l’eau: il ne mangeait que de la viande grillée ou rôtie, parce

que la viande bouillie donne sous le même volume un peu moins

d’aliment. Il ne se permettait enfin rien de superflu, pas même un

pas ni une parole, et c’était dans le plus strict qu’il prenait le

mot _superflu_.

C’était sans doute un moyen de consacrer plus sûrement toutes ses

forces au bien, mais ce n’en était pas un d’être agréable dans la

société de ses pareils; le monde veut un peu plus d’abandon, et

il est tellement fait qu’une certaine hauteur de perfection lui

paraît souvent un défaut quand on ne met pas autant d’efforts à la

dissimuler qu’on en a mis à l’acquérir.

Quels que fussent au reste les sentiments de M. de Rumford pour les

hommes, ils ne diminuaient en rien son respect pour la divinité.

Il n’a négligé dans ses ouvrages aucune occasion d’exprimer

sa religieuse admiration pour la Providence et d’y offrir à

l’admiration des autres les précautions innombrables et variées

par lesquelles elle a pourvu à la conservation de ses créatures;

peut-être même son système politique venait-il de ce qu’il croyait

que les princes doivent faire comme elle et prendre soin de nous

sans nous en rendre compte.

Cuvier finished his éloge with this epitaph: ‘L’homme qui par l’heureux

choix des sujets de ses travaux a su lui donner à la fois pour appui

l’estime des savans et la reconnaissance des malheureux.’

Dr. Young, who, whilst Professor at the Royal Institution, knew Rumford

well, said of him in the ‘Encyclopedia Britannica:’

Count Rumford certainly possessed considerable facility of

conversation, and there was a very laudable spirit of originality

in his views and mode of reasoning, although he had never leisure

to acquire profound learning in any department of study. In person

he was above the middle size, with a dignified and pleasing

expression of countenance and a mildness in his manner and tone of

voice. He was ambitious of fame and distinction, and had too great

a propensity to dictate without sufficiently regarding the opinions

of those who were of equal authority with himself. His mode of life

was abstemious, and his health was even supposed to have suffered

from too great abstinence, though his regimen was much more the

result of medical opinion regarding his health than of his own

peculiar taste for temperance.

By his will, of which Lafayette was a witness, he made a bequest to his

daughter, and another to Harvard College

for the purpose of founding, under the direction and government

of the corporation, overseers, and governors of that university,

a new institution and professorship, in order to teach by regular

courses of academical and public lectures, accompanied with proper

experiments, the utility of the physical and mathematical sciences

for the improvement of the useful arts, and for the extension of

the industry, prosperity, happiness, and well-being of society.

He left all his military books and papers to the Government of the

United States, and the snuff-box given to him by the Emperor of Austria

to Baron Delessert, and his gold enamelled watch to his friend Mr.

Parker. He thus showed his regard for Davy:

I give to Sir Humphry Davy, Knight, Professor of Chemistry in the

Royal Institution of Great Britain, my plain gold watch, as a token

of my esteem.

Madame de Rumford gave up her interest in the lease of the Count’s

house at Brompton to his daughter, who went to London in May 1815 and

lived there for twenty years, during which period she returned to Paris

for three years. In 1835 she went to America, and then she returned to

Paris until 1844, when she revisited America. In the room in which she

was born she died, when seventy-eight years of age, December 21, 1852.

She left her property chiefly to form the Rolfe and Rumford Asylum for

the Poor and Needy at Concord.

The memory of Count Rumford is preserved in Munich by a stone monument

in the English Garden, erected by public subscription in 1795, and by a

bronze statue placed in 1867 by the present King in the finest street

in the city.

In Paris a street once bore his name, and his gravestone in the

cemetery at Auteuil is the only material mark of his residence in

France.

In America the Rumford medals which he founded, and the institutions he

originated, form his enduring monuments.

In England the highest scientific reward which the Royal Society can

bestow, and the place where the greatest scientific discoveries of this

century have been made, should both in gratitude be inseparably united

with the name of Rumford.