My First Years as a Frenchwoman, 1876-1879

to me casually: "This room looks very different from what it did the last time I was in it." "Does it? I should have thought a big official dinne

be done with us." Then I remembered that it was the 2d of December, the anniversary of Louis Napoléon's coup d'état. He said they were quite u

e Chamber and W. was late. As soon as I was ready I went to his library and waited for him; I couldn't go down and receive a foreign mission without him. We were quite seven or eight minutes late and found all the company assembled (except the Annamites, who were waiting with their interpreter in another room to make their entry in proper style). As I shook hands with Lord Lyons (who was doyen of the diplomatic corps) he said to me: "Ah, Madame Waddington, I see the Republic is becoming

tion: Lor

ly the first three, who were très grands seigneurs in Annam,-heavily embroidered silk robes, feathers, and jewels, and when they didn't open their mouths they were rather a decorative group,-were tall, powerfully built men. They knew no French nor English-spoke through the interpreter. My intercourse with them was very limited. They were not near me at dinner, but afterward I tried to talk to the

. They were brought one morning to the Quai d'Orsay, and W. gave rendezvous to Comte de Pontécoulant and some of the sporting men of the cabinet, in the courtyard. There were also several stablemen, all much interested in the idea of taming the fiery steeds of the desert. The first look was disappointing. They were thin, scraggy animals, apparently all le

led with people of all kinds-the diplomatic corps in uniform, a very large representation of senators and deputies. There was a slight hesitation among some of the Left-who were ardent sympathisers with young Italy-but who didn't care to compromise themselves by taking part in a religious ceremony. However, as a rule they went

ly had no opinion. One saw him very little. I remember one day in the hunting-field he got a nasty fall. His horse put his foot in a hole and fell with him. It looked a bad accident, as if the horse were going to roll over on him. I, with one of my friends, was near, and seeing an accident (I didn't know who it was) na

-long lines of Italian soldiers, the bersaglieri with their waving plumes, on each side of the great aisle. There was a magnificent service for him at Notre Dame. The Chambers raised their sitting as a mark of respect to the head of the church, and again there was a great attendance at the cathedral. There were many discussions in the monde (society not offic

oing on hard in Rome, and the issue of the conclave was impatiently awaited. No one could predict any

uld be a very lively debate in the Parliament. W. would come home very late, saying things couldn't go on like that, and we would surely be out of office in a

es who didn't exactly like to refuse a cup of tea offered to them by the minister's wife, holding the cup and saucer most carefully in their hands, making a pretence of sipping the tea and replacing it hastily on the table as soon as it was possible. I had of course a great many people of different nationalities, who generally didn't know each other. The ambassadresses and ministers' wives sat on each sid

ien à l'H?tel de Londres à Rome," quite an insignificant and inoffensive remark-merely to say something. She replied haughtily: "Je n'en sais rien, Madame; je n'ai jamais quitté Paris et je m'en vante." I was so astonished that I had nothing to say, but was afterward sorry that I had not continued the conversation and asked her why she was so especially proud of never having left Paris. Travelling is usually supposed to enlarg

be ready for the 1st of May. There were armies of workmen in every direction and carts and camions loaded with cases making their way with difficulty through the mud. Occasionally a light case or bale would fall off, and quantities of small boys who seemed always on the spot would precipitate themselves, tumbling over each other to pick up what fell, and there would be protestations and explanations in every language under the sun. It was a motley, picturesque crowd-the costumes and uniforms

ts, and there were flags, palms, flowers, and fountains everywhere-the Seine running through the middle with fanciful bridges and boats. There was a curious collection of people in the tribunes. The invitations had not been very easy to make. There were three Spanish sovereigns, Queen Isabella, her husband, Don Fran?ois d'Assizes, and the Duc d'Aosta (King Amadée), who had reigned a few stormy months in Spain. He had come to represent Italy at the exposition. The marshal was rather preoccupied with h

y lady's man-very much the reverse. He looked a soldier (like all the princes of the house of Savoy) and at the same time a monk. One could easily imagine him a crusader in plumed helmet and breastplate, supporting any privation o

elonged to our modern world at all. The marshal had a series of dinners and receptions which were most brilliant. There was almost always music or theatricals, with the best artists in Paris. The Comédie Fran?aise was much appreciated. Their style is so finished

elin. The prince seemed to enjoy himself. He was very good-looking, with a slight, elegant figure and charming smile-didn't look like a man whose life would end so tragically. When I saw him some ye

er looked bored, was unfailingly courteous and interested in the people he was talking to. It was a joy to the French people to see him at some of the small theatres, amusing himself and understanding all

gentlemen, and looking in at the windows like an ordinary provincial. He was tall, with a slight, youthful figure, and was always

all the theatres were packed. Paris was illuminated the night of the opening of the exposition, the whole city, not merely the Champs-Elysées and boulevards. As we drove across the bridge on our way home from the reception

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ccasionally (not often) W. had a man's dinner, and then I could go with some of my friends and dine at the exposition, which was very amusing-such a curious collection of people. The rue des Nations was like a gigantic fair. We met all our friends, and heard every language under the sun. Among other distingu

now) come into the big drawing-room at the old Cozzen's Hotel at West Point, with two or three gentlemen with him. There was a certain number of people in the room and nobody moved, or dreamt of getting up. However, the Grants were ve

, made me a low bow from a certain distance, and then fell back into a group of smaller satellites, all very splendidly dressed. When dinner was announced the first couples filed off-the marshal with Mrs. Grant and the Maréchale with President Grant and W. with his lady. There was a pause; I should have gone next, but my ambassador wasn't forthcoming. I looked and wondered. All the aides-de-camp were making frantic signals to me to go on, and the whole cortège was stopped. I really didn't know what to do-I felt rather f

ddington je vous en prie, dites à Madame Grant que je ne puis pas répondre; je ne comprends pas l'anglais; je ne puis pas parler avec elle." "Mrs. Grant, the marshal begs me to say to you that he regrets not being able to talk with you, but unfortunately he does not understand English." Then there was a pause and Mrs. Grant began again: "What a beautiful palace, Mr. President. It must be delightful with that charming garden." Again the marsha

id,-never made a mistake. I saw he was looking at the flowers on the table, which were very well arranged, so I said to him, speaking very slowly and distinctly, as one does to a child or a deaf person: "Have you pretty flowers in your country?" He replied promptly: "Yes, yes, very hot, very cold, very hot, very cold." I was a little disconcerted, but thought I had perhaps spoke

o me: "I am sure you had a delightful dinner, Madame Waddington. The Chinese ambassador is such a clever man, has travelled a great deal, and speaks such wonderful English." "

speaking nor understanding a word of French. W. acted as interpreter and found that very fatiguing. There is so much repartee and sous-entendu in all French conversation that even foreigners who know the language well find it sometimes difficult to follo

word of English. The dinner was exclusively English-a great many clever men-the master of Trinity College, Cambridge (asked especially to meet my husband, who graduated from Trinity College), Lord Goschen, James Knowles of the Nineteenth Century, Froude, the historian, Sir Henry James, Lord Wolseley, etc. The talk was very animated,

the Catholics in France. Prince and Princess Hohenlohe had succeeded Arnim at the German embassy. Their beginnings were difficult, as their predecessor had done nothing to make the Germans popular in France, but their strong personality, tact, and understanding of the very delicate position helped them enormously. They were Catholics (the Princess born a Russian-her brother, Prince Wittgenstein, military attaché at the Russian embassy) and very big people in their own country, so absolutely sure of themselves and their position that it was very difficult to slight them in any way. They would never have perceived it unless some extraordinary rudeness were shown. The Princess was very striking-looking, tall, with a good figur

if it were a dog, and I must say the little animal was perfectly quiet, and kept close to her. I think the lights and the quantity of people frightened it. It growled once or twice, and we all had a feeling of relief when it was taken away. I asked the Maréchale afterward if she were afraid. "Oui, j'ava

, we did talk chiffons, curiously enough. I had waited for a dress, which only came home at the last moment, and when I put it on the corsage was so tight I could hardly bear it. It was too late to change, and I had nothing else ready, so most uncomfortable I started for my dinner. I didn't dare to eat anything, hardly dared move, which Hohenlohe remarked, after seeing three or four dishes pass me untouched, and said to me: "I am afraid you are ill; you are eating nothing." "No, not at all, onl

Hohenlohe. After the p

es and attracted great attention. Prince Hohenlohe often rode with her. I was riding with a friend one morning when we saw handsome horses waiting at the mounting-block, just inside the gates. We divined they were the Empress's horses and waited to see her mount. She

and white tie of our men. The Greek dress was very striking, a full white skirt with high embroidered belt, but it was only becoming when the wearer was young, with a good figure. I remember a pretty Roumanian woman with a white veil

Spanish. The duke said would I come, Her Majesty was ready to receive me. We passed through several salons where there were footmen and pages (no ladies) until we came to a very large one quite at the other end of the palace. The big doors were open, and at the far end I saw the Queen standing, a stately figure (enormous), dressed in a long black velvet dress, a high diamond tiara on her head, from which hung a black lace veil, a fan in her hand (I suppose no Spanish woman of any station ever parts with her fan) and a splendid string of pearls. I made my curtsey on the threshold, the chamberlain named me with the usual formula: "I have the honour to present to Your Majesty, Madame Waddington, the wife of the Minister of Foreign Affairs," then backed himself out of the room, and I proceeded down the long room to the Queen. She didn't move, let me make my two curtseys, one in the middle of the room, one when I came close up to her-and then shook hands. We remained standing a few minutes and then she sat down on a sofa (not a very small one) which she quite filled, and motioned me to take an armchair on one side. She was very amiable, had a charming smile, spoke French very well but with a strong Spanish accent. She said she was very glad to see my husband at the Foreign Office, and hope

was very effective. The number of servants in red liveries, the solitary standing figure at the end of the long enfilade of rooms,

ettes and aiguillettes. The table was covered with red and yellow flowers and splendid gold plate, and a very good orchestra of guitars and mandolins played all through dinner, the musicians singing sometimes when they played a popular song. We

sh. Besides all the exposition people, there were many tourists and well-known English people, all expecting to be entertained at the embassy. All the world was there. The Prince and Princess of Wales, the Marshal and Madame de MacMahon, the Orléans princes, Princesse Mathilde, the Faubourg St. Germain, th

Denmark. I sat between the Princes of Denmark and Sweden. Opposite me, next the Prince of Wales, sat a lady I didn't know. Every one else at the table did. She was very attractive-looking, with a charming smile and most animated manner. I asked the Prince of Denmark in a low voice, who she was-thought it must be one of the foreign princesses I hadn't yet met. The Prince of Wales heard my question, and immediately, with his charming tact and ease of manner, said to me: "You don't know the Princesse Mathilde; do let me have the pleasure of presenting you to her," naming me at once-in my official capacity, "wife of the Minister of Foreign Affairs." The princess was very gracious and smiling, and we talked about all sorts of things-some of her musi

his embassy in London, though we never saw her, she constantly sent him word through mutual friends of little negotiations she knew about and thought might interest him, and always spoke very well of him as a "clear-headed, patriotic statesman." I should have liked to have seen her in her prime, when she must have been extraordinarily beautiful and graceful. When I did see her she was no longer young, but a stately, impressive figure, and had still the beautiful brow one sees in all her pictures. One of our friends, a very clever woman and great anti-Bonaparti