My First Years as a Frenchwoman, 1876-1879 | Page 3

invites the diplomatic corps and the ministers and their wives on that
day. The troops are always received with much enthusiasm, particularly
the artillery, dragging their light field-pieces and passing at a
gallop--also the battalion of St. Cyr, the great French military school.
The final charge of the cavalry is very fine. Masses of riders come
thundering over the plain, the general commanding in front, stopping
suddenly as if moved by machinery, just opposite the President's box. I
went very regularly as long as W. was in office, and always enjoyed my
day. There was an excellent buffet in the salon behind the box, and it
was pleasant to have a cup of tea and rest one's eyes while the long
columns of infantry were passing--the regular, continuous movement
was fatiguing. All the ambassadors and foreigners were very keen
about the review, paying great attention to the size of the men and
horses and their general equipment. As long as Marshal MacMahon
was President of the Republic, he always rode home after the review
down the Champs-Elysees--in full uniform, with a brilliant staff of
foreign officers and military attaches. It was a pretty sight and attracted
great attention. Some of the foreign uniforms are very striking and the
French love a military show.

[Illustration: Marshal MacMahon.]
For many years after the war the German military attache returned from
the review unobserved in a shut carriage, couldn't run the risk of an
angry or insulting word from some one in the crowd, and still later,
fifteen years after the war, when W. was ambassador in England, I was
godmother of the daughter of a German-English cousin living in
London. The godfather was Count Herbert Bismarck, son of the famous
chancellor. At the time of the christening I was in France, staying with
some friends in the country. The son of the house had been through the
war, had distinguished himself very much, and they were still very sore
over their reverses and the necessity of submitting to all the little
pin-pricks which came at intervals from Germany. Bismarck sent me a
telegram regretting the absence of the godmother from the ceremony. It
was brought to me just after breakfast, while we were having our coffee.
I opened it and read it out, explaining that it was from Bismarck to
express his regret for my absence. There was a dead silence, and then
the mistress of the house said to me: "C'est tres desagreable pour vous,
chere amie, cette association avec Bismarck."
I didn't see much of W. in the daytime. We usually rode in the morning
in the Bois and immediately after breakfast he started for Versailles in
the parliamentary train. Dinner was always a doubtful meal. Sometimes
he came home very late for nine-o'clock dinner; sometimes he dined at
Versailles and only got home at ten or eleven if the sitting was stormy.
The Hotel des Reservoirs did a flourishing business as long as the
Chambers sat at Versailles. When we were dining out it was very
disagreeable, particularly the first winter when I didn't know many
people. I remember one dinner at the Countess Duchatel's where I went
alone; we were ten women and five men. All the rest were deputies,
who had telegraphed at the last moment they would not come, were
kept at Versailles by an important question.
One of the most interesting things I saw in 1873, just before my
marriage, was the court-martial of Marshal Bazaine for treachery at
Metz--giving up his army and the city without any attempt to break
through the enemy's lines, or in fact any resistance of any kind. The

court was held at the Grand Trianon, Versailles, a place so associated
with a pleasure-loving court, and the fanciful devices of a gay young
queen, that it was difficult to realise the drama that was being enacted,
when the honour of a Marshal of France--almost an army of France,
was to be judged. It was an impressive scene, the hall packed, and
people at all the doors and entrances clamouring for seats. The public
was curious, a little of everything--members of the National Assembly,
officers all in uniform, pretty women of all categories--the group of
journalists with keen eager faces watching every change of expression
of the marshal's face--some well-known faces, wives of members or
leading political and literary men, a fair amount of the frailer sisterhood,
actresses and demi-mondaines, making a great effect of waving plumes
and diamonds. The court was presided over by the Duc d'Aumale, who
accepted the office after much hesitation. He was a fine, soldierly
figure as he came in, in full uniform, a group of officers behind him, all
with stern, set faces. The impression of the public was generally hostile
to the marshal; one felt it