George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor
George Hillard, Ed.

[55] of course, at the ball, and as soon as the Court came into the room, crossed it to us, and shook hands with us, and greeted us as old friends, in the most good-natured manner. We, too, on our part, were very glad to see them, for they were very kind to us last winter.

In the course of the evening I was presented to the Grand Duchess Dowager, and found her as intelligent and agreeable as she is always represented to be, and as all the children of Prince Max really are . . . .

November 18.—. . . . I went by appointment this morning to pay my respects to Prince Max. I found him up four pair of stairs, and passed through, I should think, not less than twelve or fourteen rooms, that looked more like lumber-rooms than like apartments in a palace. But when I reached his suite, I found it richly furnished, as becomes the rank of one who is the father of a king,¹ and might at this moment have been a king himself, if he had not voluntarily abdicated. He received me with his little chapeau-de-bras under his arm, which I never saw him without, and led me into the Princess Amelia's parlor, where she was waiting for us. There we sat down and talked about Saxony, which seemed to please the old Prince very much. . . . He talked well and kindly, and the Princess talked with esprit for half an hour, when, in courtly style, they rose and left the room.

November 19.—. . . . This evening, as in duty bound, we went to pay our respects to the Saxon princesses. We found the Princess Louise waiting for us, looking very prettily, but most simply dressed; and soon afterwards the old Prince Max came in with the Princess Amelia. They were extremely kind, . . . . and talked pleasantly, after the fashion of princesses, about small matters that could compromise nobody . . . . .

November 20.—. . . . In the evening we drove out to Fiesole, where Mr. Thompson of New York has been living two years, in a very nice, comfortable villa. . . . . . At table, I happened to sit next to the Princess Galitzin, and it is a long time since I have talked with any lady who had at once so much good sense and so much brilliancy in her conversation. After dinner, while I was near her, Bartolini gave us an interesting account of his residence at Elba, with Bonaparte, whose sculptor he was, and who was so kind to him, both then and previously, that he is still a thorough Bonapartist. One of the works Bonaparte ordered from him was a series of very large marble vases, in which to place lights, for the purpose of illuminating a terrace where he walked in the nights; and Bartolini was at Carrara, employed