throughout all the courts of Europe. Travelling
gallants, returned home from the grand
tour, told how they had seen glittering in
the salons of Berlin the Countess Denhof,
followed whithersoever she moved by all
eyes, and Madame Marckchal—fair bride,
just sixteen years of age, and, as the chronicle
tells us, d'une tournure enchantée. Eagerly
was her coming waited for by the Grand
Monarque and his petits-maîtres, for her
husband was already appointed ambassador
to the court of France, and was to proceed
thither at the termination of his Utrecht
labours. Madame Dalwick, wife of the Hessian
minister, completed this famous triad of
beauty. There was, besides, a host of lesser
stars not quite so resplendent, among whom
were to be seen Madame Bergomi from
Modena; Madame Passionei, wife of the
Pope's representative; the Duchess of St.
Pierre; and, lastly, Miss Wood, or Woold,
as the French must mispell it, daughter of
the Bishop of Bristol, who was held to be a
demoiselle de mérite, and much liked. With
such distraction, it is wonderful how their
excellencies contrived to do business at all.
Pleasure first and business afterwards
(reversing the popular maxim) became the
established canon, or rather an agreeable
mélange of both, which pleasantly lightened
the labours of office. Perhaps, thanks to the
intercession, sundry little difficulties were
smoothed away, which might otherwise have
hindered the march of the great negotiation.
Who knows how much of the famous
treaty was to be set down to one
of Madame Denhof's seductive smiles, or
a soft whisper of Madame Marckchal? Who
shall tell how many times an impracticable
diplomatist gave way before the witcheries of
these fair but unaccredited negotiators? It is
to be feared that in the cold insensible
council so lately dissolved, such gentle
aids to discussion would not have found
proper appreciation, and the efforts of some
captivating intercessor would have fallen
powerless before flinty Buol or Walewski
natures.

Before, however, any serious business could
be thought of, certain terrible breakers showed
themselves a-head, on which it was just possible
the congress might split and go to pieces
at once. With fifty-four excellencies present,
each with their following of servants, liverymen,
pages, écuyers, and the like, it was only
to be expected that brawls and quarrels on
the score of precedence would result when
rival nations came in contact. It is written,
then, that at the very first sitting of this
Utrecht conference a solemn treaty or
convention of many articles was rédigèd, by
which provision was made for the better
behaviour of their excellencies' Jehus and
running footmen. It was decreed, in the first
instance, that every commissioner should
drive to the place of meeting in a coach
drawn by not more than two horses, and
attended by a small following only. Further,
that to avoid contestation parmi les cochers,
each should draw up at the door where their
masters had alighted. MM. les Plenipotentiaires
were also enjoined to use their best
efforts towards hindering quarrels among
their coachmen and lacqueys—these latter
being conjured to treat each other with
douceur and honnêteté. Provision was even
made for a delicate point of professional
etiquette, on which tenants of the Bon are
proverbially sensitive—viz., as to the right
of passing first in a narrow street. In the
public walks and promenades, when their
excellencies would go forth in state attended
by their train of attendants, every one was
enjoined to keep strictly to his own side,
giving place to others with all gentleness
and politeness. By this means, what has
been a fruitful source of quarrel in all ages
and countries—taking shape in our own land
as the right to the wall-side—was in some
measure sought to be avoided. The history
of London life during the last century is full
of such unhappy rencontres—gallants
stepping out into the road to settle the quarrel
there and then. Again, no page, lacquey, or
domestic was to carry sword, stick, or other
offensive weapon. Above all, no one was to
be seen in the streets after ten o'clock, and
transgressors were to be handed over to the
schout or police officer.

In spite of all this sage legislation, almost
before the congress had met a second time, a
difficulty arose between the followings of two
of the ministers. News arrived one day of
the defeat at Denain, and the domestics of
the Dutch plenipotentiary, Count Rechteren—
possessed of vast estates, and married to
Princess—— brought home word to their
master that when passing the hotel of M.
Mesnager his servants had made insulting
gestures at them. M. le Comte de Rechteren
cannot credit such effrontery. What! he, a
great Dutch noble, one of the Hogen Mogen,
and husband of a princess! Impossible!
Accordingly, he ordered round his carriage;
and, to convince himself, bade his coachman
drive past the scene of the affront. He was
to be convinced. The French valets were
still standing about the door, and repeated
their offensive gestures. The Count returns
home furious, and pens a note to M, Mesnager,
complaining of the insult and demanding
reparation. That minister, with true
French insouciance, affected to treat the
whole affair as a mere bagatelle. His
excellency must have been mistaken—he had
enquired among his servants—nothing of the
sort had taken place. However, he would
make further perquisitions. After a proper
interval, during which M. Mesnager appeared
to be sleeping over the matter, the Count
again wrote, demanding that his valets should
be confronted with those of the French
minister. This, M. Mesnager, naturally
forseeing the inevitable consequences, and of