wearing it on one side was too much like Lord Hastings.”
Lord Lyons (a bachelor) was not credited with overmuch hospitality during his tenure of the Paris Embassy, but in the June of 1868 he surprised people by giving dinners two or three times a week.
At one of the State balls at the Tuileries in “Lord Hastings’ year” an Englishman was heard to remark at the top of his voice: “I say, this is d——d bad wine! Not so good as Pinard’s!”[40] Whitehurst was a very minute recorder of events. He observed among the guests—4,000 or 5,000—“Mrs. Moulton, a great American beauty, and a fine musician; and the Comtesse de Fernandina, glittering in a sort of silver cloud.” Also that “Napoleon III. was with his relative, the Duchess of Hamilton, née Princesse de Bade. They stopped to speak to Mme. De Arcos,[41] Irish, but married to a Spaniard. In the corner was the ne plus ultra of Paris fashion.” And there were to be seen Mmes. de Gallifet, de Pourtalès, and de Sagan, and Princesse de Metternich, who “sat in judgment on Paris society,” and “out of whose mouths came the dreaded sentence.”
The military review in the Bois de Boulogne on June 6 transcended in glitter and colour all other spectacles witnessed in Paris since the elevation of the Prince-President to the imperial throne. “Grand succès! Enthousiasme énorme!” Thoughtless people, attracted to the Bois merely by curiosity, shed tears. Adrien Marx himself, “with his own eyes,” saw these impressionable folk overcome by their emotion. One must have had “a heart with the famous ‘triple envelope of brass’ not to have felt feverish and overwhelmed by the deepest national sentiment at such a scene. Quel coup d’œil!”
This parade of 60,000 troops was in honour of the Emperor Alexander II. and King William of Prussia. They were in the imperial tribune, by the side of the Empress Eugénie, “in all the radiance of her beauty.” There, too, was the Prince Imperial, aged eleven, regarding the crowd, drunk with joy, with his look of former days—that look at once sweet and naïf. Behind the Empress were the imperial and royal Princesses and all the Palace ladies. Other tribunes were reserved for all the dignitaries, illustrious persons, and the grandes dames that Paris could boast. The general wear for the ladies was light-hued taffetas, garnished with white guipures. This, for the moment, was the “livrée de la femme distinguée.”
The success of the day was made by the artillery of the guard. The other plaudits were for the chasseurs, zouaves, guides, and cuirassiers. Marshal Canrobert was in command, and he was “much moved,” reminding some of the chroniclers of “dramatic authors on the night of a première.” Was he not also presenting to the public (“and what a public!”) an important piece? Not a piece “à femmes,” but a piece “à soixante mille hommes.”
After inspecting the massed troops, the Sovereigns and their brilliant staff rode into the centre of the parade-ground and faced the tribunes. Then came the great movement of the day. Thirty thousand cavalry, ranged in one line, galloped at breakneck speed to within five yards of their Majesties, halted, and shouted in unison, “Vive l’Empereur!” cleaving the air with their gleaming sabres.
With the King of Prussia were the Crown Prince, Count von Bismarck, General Baron von Moltke, Major-General Count von Goltz, and many personages less known to fame. The Tsar was accompanied by the Tsarevitch (the late Emperor Alexander III.); another of his sons, the Grand Duke Vladimir; Prince Basil Dolgorouki, Count Adlerberg, Count Schouvaloff (in later years Ambassador in London), the French Generals Lebœuf and Fave, and Baron de Bourgoing.[42]
After a day’s interval came the “bal des Souverains” at the Hôtel de Ville. Thanks to the magnificent Haussmann, this entertainment eclipsed the raoût offered in 1855 to Queen Victoria. The 10,000 invités agreed that such a spectacle was not to be witnessed twice in a century. “The féeries of the Hosteins and the Marc-Fourniers, with their surprises, their silks, their spangles, their velvets, their gold, their electricity, and their mise-en-scène, will henceforward leave us cold, dissatisfied, and eclipsed. Place yourself before a candle after you have looked at the sun!”