TO COMPLETE THE STORY
THE reader well informed in modern history will not require details as to the
fate of the Republic. The best account is to be found in the memoirs of Herr
Greisengesang (7 Bande: Leipzig), by our passing acquaintance the licentiate
Roederer. Herr Roederer, with too much of an author's licence, makes a great
figure of his hero -- poses him, indeed, to be the centre-piece and
cloud-compeller of the whole. But, with due allowance for this bias, the book is
able and complete.
The reader is of course acquainted with the vigorous and bracing pages of Sir
John (2 vols., London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme and Brown). Sir John, who
plays but a tooth-comb in the orchestra of this historical romance, blows in his
own book the big bassoon. His character is there drawn at large; and the
sympathy of Landor has countersigned the admiration of the public. One point,
however, calls for explanation; the chapter on Grunewald was torn by the hand of
the author in the palace gardens; how comes it, then, to figure at full length
among my more modest pages, the Lion of the caravan? That eminent literatus was
a man of method; `Juvenal by double entry,' he was once profanely called; and
when he tore the sheets in question, it was rather, as he has since explained,
in the search for some dramatic evidence of his sincerity, than with the thought
of practical deletion. At that time, indeed, he was possessed of two blotted
scrolls and a fair copy in double. But the chapter, as the reader knows, was
honestly omitted from the famous Memoirs on the various Courts of Europe. It has
been mine to give it to the public.
Bibliography still helps us with a further glimpse of our characters. I have
here before me a small volume (printed for private circulation: no printer's
name; n.d.), Poesies par Frederic et Amelie. Mine is a presentation copy,
obtained for me by Mr. Bain in the Haymarket; and the name of the first owner is
written on the fly-leaf in the hand of Prince Otto himself. The modest epigraph
-- `Le rime n'est pas riche' -- may be attributed, with a good show of
likelihood, to the same collaborator. It is strikingly appropriate, and I have
found the volume very dreary. Those pieces in which I seem to trace the hand of
the Princess are particularly dull and conscientious. But the booklet had a fair
success with that public for which it was designed; and I have come across some
evidences of a second venture of the same sort, now unprocurable. Here, at
least, we may take leave of Otto and Seraphina -- what do I say? of Frederic and
Amelie -- ageing together peaceably at the court of the wife's father, jingling
French rhymes and correcting joint proofs.
Still following the book-lists, I perceive that Mr. Swinburne has dedicated a
rousing lyric and some vigorous sonnets to the memory of Gondremark; that name
appears twice at least in Victor Hugo's trumpet-blasts of patriot enumeration;
and I came latterly, when I supposed my task already ended, on a trace of the
fallen politician and his Countess. It is in the Diary of J. Hogg Cotterill,
Esq. (that very interesting work). Mr. Cotterill, being at Naples, is introduced
(May 27th) to `a Baron and Baroness Gondremark -- he a man who once made a noise
-- she still beautiful -- both witty. She complimented me much upon my French --
should never have known me to be English -- had known my uncle, Sir John, in
Germany -- recognised in me, as a family trait, some of his grand air and
studious courtesy -- asked me to call.' And again (May 30th), `visited the
Baronne de Gondremark -- much gratified -- a most refined, intelligent woman,
quite of the old school, now, helas! extinct -- had read my Remarks on Sicily --
it reminds her of my uncle, but with more of grace -- I feared she thought there
was less energy -- assured no -- a softer style of presentation, more of the
literary grace, but the same firm grasp of circumstance and force of thought --
in short, just Buttonhole's opinion. Much encouraged. I have a real esteem for
this patrician lady.' The acquaintance lasted some time; and when Mr. Cotterill
left in the suite of Lord Protocol, and, as he is careful to inform us, in
Admiral Yardarm's flag-ship, one of his chief causes of regret is to leave `that
most spirituelle and sympathetic lady, who already regards me as a younger
brother.'
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