"But will you not let me, at least, reflect?" "No, sir; not a second. If my offer was not as frankly taken as made--ay, and on the instant too--I am only the more ashamed for ever making it: but there's an end on't. If you would be as good friends parting with me as we have been hitherto, never speak of this again." And so saying, Martin turned on his heel and walked hastily away. I followed him after a second, but he waved me back with his hand, and I was forced to comply.

That day Amy and I dined alone together. Her father, she said, "had got a bad headache;" and this she said with such evident candour, it was clear she knew nothing of our interview. The dinner was to me, at least, a very constrained affair; nor were my sensations rendered easier as she said--"My father tells me that you are obliged to leave us this evening, Mr. Templeton. I'm very sorry for it; but I hope we'll meet soon again."

We did not meet soon again, or ever. I left the farm that night for London. Martin came to the door from his bed to wish me good-by. He looked very ill, and only spoke a few words. His shake-hands was, however, hearty; and his "G.o.d bless you," uttered with kind meaning.

I have never seen that neighbourhood since.

It was about two years after that I received a letter--the very one now before me--superscribed Martin Haverstock. It was brief, and to this effect. The Secretary for Foreign Affairs being a candidate for the representation in Parliament of the county in which Martin held a large stake, had, in acknowledgment of his friend Mr. Haverstock's exertions in his support, been only too happy to consider the application made respecting Mr. H.'s young friend, who, by the next Gazette, would be announced for promotion.

And thus I was made Secretary of Legation at Studtgart!

There was a postscript to Martin's letter, which filled me with strange and varying emotions:---"Amy is sorry that her baby is a little girl; she'd like to have called it 'Horace.'"

This packet I need not open. The envelope is superscribed, "Hints and Mems for H.T. during his residence at the Court of M------." They were given in a series of letters from old Lord H------, who had long been a resident Minister there, and knew the people thoroughly. I followed, very implicitly too, the counsels he gave, and was said to have acquitted myself well, for I was "_Charge d'Affaires_." But what absurdity it is to suppose that any exclusive information is ever obtainable by a Minister, except when the Government itself is disposed to afford it! I remember well, the spy we employed was also in the pay of the French Emba.s.sy. He was a Sardinian, and had spent some years of his life an Austrian prisoner in a fortress. We all believed, whatever the fellow's sentiments on other subjects, that he was a profound hater of Austria. Well, it turned out that he sold us all to Metternich.

Old Sir Robert W------ used to say to his _attaches_--"Never tell me secrets, but whenever any thing is publicly discussed in the clubs and cafes, let me hear it." In the same way, he always rejected the authenticity of any revelations where Talleyrand, or Metternich, or Pozzo di Borgo's names appeared. "These men," he always used to say, "were their own confidants, and never leaked save to serve a purpose."

It was from Sir Robert I heard a story first, which has since, I believe, been fully corroborated. An Under-secretary of Talleyrand, during the Prince's residence as French amba.s.sador at St. James's, informed his Excellency one morning, that a very tempting offer had been made to him if he would disclose the contents of his master's writing-desk. He had not accepted, nor altogether declined the proposal, wishing to know from the Prince how it might be made available to his plans, and whether a direct accusation of the author, a person of high station, would be deemed advisable. Talleyrand merely said, "Take the money; the middle board of the drawer in my secretary is removable by a very simple contrivance, which I'll shew you. I had it made so at Paris.

You'll find all the papers you want there. Take copies of them."

"But, Monsieur le Prince-----"

"Pray make your mind at ease. I'll neither compromise myself nor you."

The Secretary obeyed; the bargain was perfected, and a supposed "secret correspondence between Talleyrand and Arnim," deposited in Lord T------'s hands. About a week afterwards Lord T------ invited the Prince to pa.s.s some days at his seat in Herefordshire, where a distinguished party was a.s.sembled. The Amba.s.sador accepted; and they met like the most cordial of friends. When the period of the visit drew to its conclusion, they were walking one morning in the grounds together, engaged in a conversation of the most amicable candour, each vying with the other by the frankness and unreserve of his communications.

"Come now, Prince," said Lord T------, "we are, I rejoice to find, on terms which will permit any freedom. Tell me frankly, how do you stand with Prussia? Are there any understandings between you to which we must not be parties?"

"None whatever."

"You say this freely and without reserve?"

"Without the slightest reserve or qualification."

Lord T------ seemed overjoyed, and the discussion concluded. They dined that day together, and in the evening a large company was a.s.sembled to meet the Prince before his departure for London. As usual at T------ House, the party contained a great show of distinguished persons, political and literary. Among the subjects of conversation started was the question of how it happened that men of great literary distinction so rarely could shine as statesmen; and that even such as by their writings evinced a deep insight into political science, were scarcely ever found to combine practical habits of business with this great theoretical talent.

The discussion was amusing, because it was carried on by men who themselves occupied the highest walks in their respective careers.

To arrest a somewhat warm turn of the controversy, Lord T------, turning to the Prince, said, "I suppose, Monsieur le Prince, you have seldom been able to indulge in imaginative composition?"

"Pardon me, my Lord, I have from time to time dissipated a little in that respect; and, if I must confess it, with a very considerable degree of amus.e.m.e.nt."

The announcement, made with a most perfect air of candour, interested at once the whole company, who could not subdue their murmured expressions of surprise as to the theme selected by the great Diplomatist.

"I believe," said he, smiling, "I am in a position to gratify the present company; for, if I mistake not, I have actually with me at this moment a brief ma.n.u.script of my latest attempt in fiction. As I am a mere amateur, without the slightest pretension to skill or ability, I feel no reluctance at exposing my efforts to the kind criticism of friends. I only make one stipulation."

"Oh, pray, what is it? any thing, of course, you desire!" was heard on every side.

"It is this. I read very badly, and I would request that T------, our kind host, would take upon him to read it aloud for us."

Lord T------ was only too much flattered by the proposal, and the Prince retired to fetch his papers, leaving the company amazed at the singularity of a scene which so little accorded with all they had ever heard of the deep and wily Minister; some of the shrewdest persons significantly observing, that the Prince was evidently verging on those years when vanity of every kind meets fewest obstacles to its display.

"Here are my papers, my Lord," said the Prince, entering with his ma.n.u.script. "I have only to hope that they may afford to the honourable company any portion of the amus.e.m.e.nt their composition has given me."

The party seated themselves round the room, and Lord T------, disposing the papers on the table before him, arranged the candles, and prepared to begin. "The t.i.tle of the piece is missing," said he, after a pause.

"Oh, no, my Lord; you'll find it on the envelope," replied Talleyrand.

"Ah, very true; here it is!--'Secret Correspondence'------" Lord T------ stopped--his hands trembled--the blood left his face--and he leaned back in his chair almost fainting.

"You are not ill!--are you ill?" broke from many voices together.

"No; not in the least," said he, endeavouring to smile; "but the Prince has been practising a bit of 'plaisanterie' on me, which I own has astounded me."

"Won't you read it, my Lord; or shall I explain?"

"Oh, Monsieur le Prince," said Lord T------, crushing the papers into his pocket, "I think you may be satisfied;" and with this, to the company, very mysterious excuse, his Lordship abruptly retired; while Talleyrand almost immediately set out for London.

The nature of the mystification was not disclosed till long afterwards; and it is but justice to both parties to say, not by Talleyrand, but by Lord T------ himself.

With what facility men, whose whole daily life is artifice, can be imposed on, is a very remarkable feature in all these cases. The practice of deceit would actually appear to obstruct clear-sightedness and dull the ordinary exercise of common sense. Witness that poor Dutch amba.s.sador Fabricius, who, a few years ago, was imposed on at Paris by Bouffe, the comedian, representing himself to be the first Secretary of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and offering, for a sum of money, to confide to him the secret negotiations between M. Guizot and the Belgian Government! Fabricius, deceived by the great resemblance of Bouffe to the person he represented, agreed, and actually wrote to the King of Holland a triumphant despatch, announcing his own diplomatic dexterity.

Every post saw a huge packet of letters to the King, containing various doc.u.ments and papers; some a.s.suming to be in the handwriting of Guizot--some, of Nothomb--some, of the Duke of Wellington--and two or three of King Leopold himself. The task of undeceiving the unhappy dupe was taken by his Majesty Louis Philippe, who having, at an evening reception at Neuilly, exposed his attempted corruption, coolly turned his back and refused to receive him.

Another dive into this chaotic ma.s.s of reminiscence! A letter from poor Granthorpe, whose sad suicide remains the unexplained and unexplainable mystery of all who knew him. A man whose mind was remarkable for its being so deeply imbued with sentiments of religious truth--whose whole life was, so to say, devotional--is found dead, the act being by his own hand! No circ.u.mstance of domestic calamity, no pecuniary difficulty, not even a pa.s.sing derangement of health, to account for the terrible event.

Here is his note; we were but new acquaintances at the time, and it begins,--

"Dear Sir,

"From the conversation we held together lately at Lord N----'s table, I believe I shall not misinterpret your sentiments by supposing that any new fact connected with Waterloo will interest you strongly. I therefore enclose you a memoir, drawn up a few evenings back at W------. It was begun by way of a regular refutation of Alison, whose views are so manifestly incorrect; the idea of publication is, however, abandoned, and I am at liberty merely to shew it to such of my friends as take a more than common interest in the transaction.

"Truly yours,

"S. Granthorpe."

The memoir which accompanied this is curious for two reasons: first, from its authenticity; and, secondly, from the fact that, being dictated from beginning to end, it is as clear, as consecutive, as free from unnecessary, and as full of all necessary detail, as if the events were of a few days' back, and that no recital of them had yet been given to the world. Two or three anecdotes (new to me, at least) were interspersed here and there, not for themselves, but as circ.u.mstantially evidencing facts of some importance.

One, I remember, alluded to a Prussian statement by a Captain Hahnsfelder, who stated that two British guns, placed on the height above La Haye Sainte, were captured by the French as early as eleven o'clock. The pa.s.sage in the memoir is this:--"Untrue; these guns were in the field at seven in the evening, in the same position which they stood at the beginning of the battle. They are in advance of Adam's left, and were so far unprotected that the artillerymen who served them had to retire after each discharge. The Cuira.s.siers made several attempts to carry them off, but as orders were given that, after each fire, one wheel should be taken off each gun, the cavalry failed in their object.

They tried to la.s.so them, but this also failed, besides losing them some men."

Alison's strategy, for he went so far as to plan a campaign of his own, is very ably exposed, and the necessity of posting troops in particular districts clearly explained from circ.u.mstances peculiar to the localities, such as stationing the cavalry at Enghein, where alone forage was procurable. The controversy, if it can be so called, is worthless. They whose opinions are alone valuable are exactly the persons who will not speak on the subject.

A strange-looking letter is this from C------ enclosing the proof of a paper I wrote on Irish Educational matters, very laconic and editorial:--

"Dear T.,

"You are all wrong: as blue and yellow, when mixed, form green, so will your Protestant and Papist League make nothing but rampant infidelity. In any great State scheme of education there must be one grand standard of obedience--the Bible is the only one I've heard of yet. Keep this one then till you hear of better.

"Yours,