Chapter D: Montaigu

I have before me the original ‘dispensation,’ to enable him to neglect keeping Lent in the usual abstinent way. That he should take the trouble to procure such a power would seem to be warrant for a sincerity for which we can hardly credit him. It is dated ‘March 6, 1767,’ and he is styled ‘Excellentissimus Dominus Eduardus de Comitibus Montagu.’ Meanwhile the question of the marriage was still undecided. The ecclesiastical and civil judges were perhaps not long in forming, but they were very slow in delivering judgment. Mrs. Montagu, however, or ‘the Countess,’ as she was sometimes called, seems to have formed a judgment of her own; or, at all events, to have accepted that of her second husband. They lived together at Smyrna, where for two years both applied themselves to the study of Turkish, in which language, as in others of the East, Montagu became a proficient scholar. On New Year’s day, 1769, he addressed a joyous letter to his brother-in-law Varsy. The Tuscan and the Roman tribunals had at length pronounced on the great question. The rich and orthodox second husband was declared to be the legal possessor of the lady, and her previous marriage with the poor heretical consul was decreed to be no marriage at all.

You cannot imagine, thus runs the letter, the great joy I feel at
being able to tell you that Mr. Feroe has the final decree of the
Court of the Nuncio at Florence. Accordingly, as Madame is already
here (Smyrna), we reckon on being as soon as possible at Rosetta.
But prudence requires that we should first write to you to beg you
to find us a suitable house. That in which we were before would
be good enough, but I think and fear that the consul may have it.
Without the servants, there are myself, my wife, and her father
(_monsieur son père_). We live more in the Turkish fashion than
ever. Accordingly, the women’s apartments must be comfortable
and convenient for the _salamlike_ (_sic_), and there must be a
chamber for my father-in-law. You know what is necessary. The
quarter in which we live must be free from disturbance, from
plague, and from robbers. Have the kindness to inform me if
the country is tranquil, and if you believe that there is no
danger from the government; for here no end of stories is being
circulated. Write by the first ship. Be convinced of the constant
friendship with which I am, my very dear friend, entirely yours,