In those days, France was still looked upon as the first military power in Europe. Her soldiers were probably not superior to those who fell in the Franco-German war, but their prestige had not been questioned. They were also more sightly than the ill-clad legions of the Third Republic, so the review was a very splendid affair. At its termination, her Majesty repaired to the Invalides, to the tomb of Napoléon, which, though it had been begun, as I have incidentally stated, under the premiership of M. Guizot in 1846-47, was not finished then, and only officially inaugurated nearly six years afterwards.
My ticket for the review had been given to me by Marshal Vaillant, the minister for war, and the only Marshal of the Second Empire with whom I was, at that time, intimately acquainted; though I became on very friendly terms with Marshals MacMahon and Lebrun subsequently.
I will devote, by-and-by, a few notes to this most original soldier-figure—he was only a type in some respects; meanwhile, I may mention here an anecdote, in connection with this visit of the Queen, characteristic of the man. The governor of the Invalides was the late King of Westphalia, Jérôme Bonaparte. It was but natural that he should have been chosen as the custodian of his brother's last resting-place. It was equally natural that he should feel reluctant to meet at that tomb the sovereign of a country which, he considered, had tortured that brother to death. Consequently the last survivor of the elder Bonapartes, the one who had also fought at Waterloo, foreseeing, as it were, this pilgrimage on the part of her Majesty, had, a fortnight or so before the date of her intended visit, gone to Havre, whither he had been ordered by his doctor on account of his health, and whence he only returned when the Queen of England had left France.
The deputy-governor of the Invalides was, perhaps, not considered sufficiently important to do the honours to so illustrious a visitor, and Marshal Vaillant was sounded whether he would undertake the functions. He declined. "Je n'ai pas l'honneur, sire," he said, "d'appartenir à votre illustre famille et personne sauf la famille d'un grand homme a le droit d'oublier les souffrances que ses ennemis lui ont infligées." He was an honest, upright soldier, abrupt and self-willed, but kindly withal, and plainly perceived the faults of Louis-Napoléon's policy and of his frequently misplaced generosity—above all, of his system of conciliating the sovereigns of Europe by fêtes and entertainments. "Quand l'autre leur donnait des fêtes et des représentations de théâtre, c'était chez eux, et pas chez nous, ils en payaient les frais." More of him in a little while.
At the Queen's first visit to Versailles—the second took place on the Saturday before she left—she had been deeply moved at the sight of the picture representing her welcome at Eu by Louis-Philippe, to which ceremony I alluded in one of my former notes. But even before this she had expressed a wish to see the ruins of the Château de Neuilly, and the commemorative chapel erected on the spot where the Duc d'Orléans met with his fatal accident. "La femme qui est si fidèle à ses vieilles amitiés au milieu des nouvelles, surtout quand il s'agit de dynasties rivales, comme en ce moment, et quand cette femme est une reine, cette femme est une amie bien précieuse," said Jérôme's son. Both the Emperor and the Empress found that their cousin had spoken truly.
Saturday, the 25th, had been fixed for the fête at Versailles. In the morning, the Queen went to the palace of Saint-Germain, which no English sovereign had visited since James II. lived there. She returned to Saint-Cloud, and thence to the magnificent abode of Louis XIV., which she reached after dark—the Place d'Armes and the whole of the erstwhile royal residence being brilliantly illuminated.
The Imperial and Royal party entered by the Marble Court, in the centre of which the pedestal to the statue of Louis XIV. had been decorated with the rarest flowers. The magnificent marble staircase had, however, been laid with thick purple carpets, and the balustrades almost disappeared beneath masses of exotics; it was the first time, if I remember rightly, that I had seen mosses and ferns and foliage in such profusion. The Cent Gardes and the Guides de l'Impératrice were on duty, the former on the staircase itself, the latter below, in the vestibule. At the top, to the right and left, the private apartments of the Empress had been arranged, the Queen occupied those formerly belonging to Marie-Antoinette. I was enabled to see these a few days later; they were the most perfect specimens of the decorative art that flourished under Louis XVI. I have ever beheld. The boudoir was upholstered in light blue, festoons of roses running along the walls, and priceless Dresden groups distributed everywhere; the dressing-rooms were hung with pale green, with garlands upon garlands of violets. The toilet service was of Sèvres, with medallions after Lancret and Watteau. The historical Salle de l'Œil-de-Bœuf, which preceded her Majesty's apartments, had been transformed into a splendid reception-room for the use of the Imperial hosts and all their Royal guests, for there were one or two foreign princes besides, notably Prince Adalbert of Bavaria.
The ball was to take place in the famous Galerie des Glaces; the Empress herself had presided at its transformation, which had been inspired by a well-known print of "Une Fête sous Louis Quinze." More garlands of roses, but this time drooping from the ceiling and connecting the forty splendid lustres, which, together with the candelabra on the walls, could not have contained less than three thousand wax candles. At each of the four angles of the vast apartment a small orchestra had been erected, but very high up, and surrounded by a network of gilt wire.
At the stroke of ten those wonderful gardens became all of a sudden ablaze with rockets and Chinese candles; it was the beginning of the fireworks, the principal piece of which represented Windsor Castle. After this, the ball was opened by the Queen and the Emperor, the Empress and Prince Albert; but though the example had been given, there was very little dancing. I was a comparatively young man then, but I was too busy feasting my eyes with the marvellous toilettes to pay much heed to the seductive strains, which at other times would have set me tripping. I fancy this was the case with most of the guests.
On the Monday the Queen left for home.