In the Courts of Memory, 1858-1875 Part 29

Every one praised the Marquis to the skies, and he was really in the seventh heaven of delight.

I am only afraid his head will be turned, and that he will write another _chef-d'oeuvre_.

I was glad when their Majesties bade us good night, for I was completely exhausted.

PARIS, _December 5th_.

It seems nice, all the same, to be at home again. We arrived in Paris at six o'clock, and at half-past seven I was in my bed, completely worn out.

However, I must tell you how our visit ended the day before yesterday. Was it only the day before yesterday? It seems months ago. At _dejeuner_ the Princess Metternich sat on the right of the Emperor, and the Empress's brother-in-law, Duke d'Albe, gave me his _avant-le-deluge_ arm, and put me on the left of his Majesty.

I thought the Emperor looked tired and ill, and I noticed he frequently put his hand on his back, as if he was in pain. The Princess Metternich engrossed the Emperor's attention. She is so witty and lively that every one must listen when she talks. All the same, the Emperor talked with me a good deal, and thanked me for having done so much to amuse them. Never would they forget the pleasure they had had.

When we went up to our rooms to put on our cloaks there was no pretentious majordomo demanding his fee, and our particular valet looked sad, and did not meet my eye when I tried to catch his to give a smile of adieu, and persistently fixed his gaze on something at the other end of the corridor.

I rather liked the old way better, as one felt that in a measure one had made some little compensation for all the delightful days spent there.

I asked my maid how the servants felt about this change. She said that in their _salle a manger_ almost all the maids and valets belonging to the guests gave _pourboires_.

After we had made our adieux, and taken our seats in the different carriages, their Majesties came out on the balcony to see us depart. They waved their hands in farewell as we drove off.

The journey back to Paris was a silent one. Every one was occupied with his own thoughts. Prince Metternich sat in a corner talking with the impervious diplomat; I wondered if he were relating the salad's complicated relationships. We all bade one another good-by, adding, with a.s.sumed enthusiasm, that we hoped to meet soon again, when perhaps we were rejoicing in the thought that we would not do so for a long time to come.

What insincere creatures we are!

_May, 1870._

We were invited to a picnic at Grand Trianon, given by the Emperor and Empress for the Archduke of Austria.

The rendezvous was to be at St. Cloud, and we were asked to be there at four o'clock. On arriving we found the Metternichs, edouard Delesert, Duperre, and Count Dehm, the Austrian Secretary. Their Majesties and the Prince Imperial joined us when we were all a.s.sembled. We then mounted the two _char-a-bancs_ which were waiting for us in front of the chateau, with their postilions and four horses; the _piqueurs,_ in their saddles, were all ready to precede us. The Emperor, Empress, the Prince Imperial, Princess Metternich, and the Archduke were in the first carriage; the rest of us were in the second--about fourteen people in all. We drove through the lovely forest of Marly, the long, tiresome avenues of Versailles, and through many roads known probably only to the postilions, and perhaps used only on rare occasions such as this royal excursion, for they were in such a bad condition, ruts and stones everywhere, that our heads and shoulders were b.u.mping continually against our neighbors'. Finally we reached Pet.i.t Trianon, where we left the carriages and servants, who were ordered to meet us at Grand Trianon later, bringing our extra wraps with them. The air was deliciously balmy and warm, and was filled with the perfume of lilacs and acacias.

We wandered through the park, admiring the skill of the artist who had laid it out so cleverly, just like Pet.i.t Val. This is not surprising, as it was the same person who planned them both. All the surroundings recall the charming life which Marie Antoinette must have lived in the midst of this pastoral simplicity.

I wondered if the same thought pa.s.sed through the Empress's mind which pa.s.sed through mine. Could history ever repeat this unfortunate queen's horrible fate? We continued our walk to Grand Trianon, and found the table spread for our dinner under the wide _charmille,_ near the lake. The Princess Metternich sat on the right of the Emperor, and I on his left.

The Emperor was in excellent spirits, and bandied repartees with Monsieur Delesert, who surpa.s.sed himself in wit, and told many and sometimes rather risky stories, which made every one laugh. The Prince Imperial could hardly wait till the end of the dinner, he was so impatient to get to the rowboat which was ready waiting for him on the lake. The Empress was quite nervous, and stood on the edge of the lake all the time he was on the water, calling to him, "Prends garde, Louis!" "Ne te penches pas, Louis!"

and many other such counsels like any other anxious mother, and she never took her eyes from the little boat which was zigzagging about under the hands of the youthful prince.

It was after nine o'clock when we started to return to St. Cloud by another route. The _piqueur_, finding the gate locked through which we had to pa.s.s, knocked on the door of the lodge-keeper, who, awakened from his slumbers, appeared in a _deshabille_ more than hasty, intending to administer a _savon_ (scolding) to such tardy comers. But on hearing from the _piqueur_ that the monarch of all he surveyed was waiting in the carriage, he flew to open the gate, disclosing his scanty night-attire.

The funniest part of it was that, as soon as he realized the situation, he thought it his duty to show his patriotism, so he stood on the steps of his lodge and, as we pa.s.sed through the gate, he chanted a hoa.r.s.e and sleepy! "Vive l'Empereur!" and waved his smoking candle.

The Emperor was convulsed with laughter. I, who sat behind him, could see his shoulders shaking.

The ball of the _plebiscite_ was the most splendid thing I ever saw.

The architects and decorators had outdone themselves. The gardens of the Tuileries beyond the fountain had been hedged in by orange-trees, and other large trees moved there in their tubs. The whole _parterre_ of flowers was festooned with lanterns and little colored lamps, making this fairy scene as bright as day. The ballroom and adjoining salons, of which the windows had been removed as well as the iron railing outside of them, led on to a large platform which occupied the s.p.a.ce of six such windows or doors; these gave out into two colossal staircases which descended into the garden. It was such a beautiful night, so warm that we ladies could walk about in our ball-dresses without any extra wraps; there were about six thousand people invited, they said. It seemed as if all Paris was there.

After the _quadrille d'honneur_ their Majesties circulated freely about.

Every one was eager to offer congratulations to the Emperor. Was it not the greatest triumph of his reign to have the unanimous vote of all France--this overwhelming proof of his popularity? As he stood there smiling, with a gracious acknowledgment of the many compliments, he looked radiantly happy to thus receive the homage of his country. As the Emperor pa.s.sed near me I added my congratulations, to which he replied, "Merci, je suis bien heureux."

Their Majesties stood on the dais with the members of the Imperial family, and after watching the dance they all went in to the _Pavillon de Flore_, where supper was served for the notabilities.

For the others there was arranged a supper in the theater; an orchestra on the stage played all the time; the balconies were festooned with flowers and filled with guests; there were supper-tables in the parquet and in the largest _loges_, and plants and shrubs placed in every available spot.

LONDON, _June, 1870._

DEAR M.,--What will you think of your dissipated daughter? Do you not think that she is insatiable? I am sure that you will say that I ought to be contented after the long season of gaiety and excitement in Paris, and settle down in lovely Pet.i.t Val, where the lilacs and the violets call one with scented voices.

However, we decided to go to London.

Did I write to you of our breakfast at Armenonville? After Lord Lyons's ball, which lasted until six o'clock in the morning, Prince Metternich and several others thought that it would be a good idea to go home, change our ball-dresses for morning-dress, and go out to the Bois for our morning coffee. We did it.

I confess that it was a crazy thing to do after dancing all night; but the beautiful May morning, the glorious sunshine, and our spirits inspired us to carry out this wild whim, much to the disgust of our sleepy coachmen.

This excursion was not a success; we were all tired and longed for bed.

One cannot be amusing or _en train_ at seven o'clock in the morning.

And as for the family, when we returned home all the comment they made was, "What fools!" They did not see any fun in it; neither did we, to tell the truth.

The Rothschilds, Lord Lyons, and Prince and Princess Metternich gave us what must have been very powerful letters, for we had hardly been in London more than a few days before we knew every one worth knowing, and all doors worth opening were opened to us, and I found myself what one calls _lancee_.

We took rooms in Park Street; that is, we had the two stories of the house. The landlady lived downstairs, and gave us our meals when we were at home. As soon as we got settled we left our cards and letters of introduction.

Invitation followed invitation in the most bewildering manner, sometimes several for the same day.

I could not begin to tell you all that we have already done. Writing letters seems to be the one thing which I have no time for. It is a perpetual push and rush from morning till night.

Our first dinner was at Baron and Baroness Rothschilds', where the Prince and Princess of Wales and a great many distinguished people were invited.

I sat next to a Mr. Osbourne--everybody called him d.i.c.k. He told me that he was the most dined-out and tired-out man in London, and that he had not eaten at home for six months.

I had not seen their Royal Highnesses since their visit to Paris during the Exposition. They said that they remembered me; but I cannot think it possible that they can have such wonderful memories.

I never saw such a splendid collection of orchids as there was on the table, and each lady had a bouquet of orchids and roses by her plate.

I was asked to sing, and was delighted to do it. The Rothschilds' ballroom was a glorious place in which to make a debut.

Michael Costa, the well-known musician, came after dinner and accompanied me in the "Cavatina" from "Rigoletto," and the waltz from the "Pardon de Ploermel."

Lady Sherbourne, a charming lady whom I fell in love with at first sight, sang also. She has a beautiful, rich contralto voice, and sang with a great deal of expression an English song called, "Out on the rocks when the tide is low."

In your last letter you wrote, "I am afraid that you are on the way to become conceited." I am afraid myself I am, still I cannot resist telling you, this once, that my audience was very enthusiastic and Mr. Costa said --well, I won't tell you what he said; it might sound conceited. The last thing I sang was "Beware!" which was immensely appreciated.

The Prince of Wales said: "That is a bewitching song. I never heard it before. Who composed it?"

I told him that it was written for me by my husband, and Longfellow had written the words.

The Princess, before leaving, said, "I cannot tell you how much pleasure you have given us this evening; we hope to see you often while you are in London." She is very beautiful, even handsomer than when I saw her last.

Baroness Rothschild kissed me, and thanked me for having sung for her.

Call me vain and conceited if you will, my head is turned, and there is nothing more to be said about it!