Seventeen Years in Paris: A Chaplain's Story

by H. E. Noyes

His Majesty left Paris for Cherbourg the next morning, President Loubet accompanying him to the Gare des Invalids. There was a thankful sigh of relief from the many loyal hearts in Paris that all had passed off so well, and that our beloved Monarch was safe. It had been an anxious time, for the happy change to more friendly relations between the two countries had then only just commenced.

The next visit of His Majesty was in May, 1905, just two years after his first official visit. There had been a change at the Embassy. Much to the regret of all who knew him, Sir Edmund Monson had retired, having reached the age limit, and had been succeeded by Sir Francis Bertie, the present Ambassador. There was, moreover, a great change in the attitude of the people, and the “Entente Cordiale” was on the lips of all. The King’s previous visit, and the return visit of M. Loubet to London, resulted in the settling of several outstanding disputes which had long been an anxiety to diplomatists. There was much less ceremonial upon this visit, and the King, instead of going to the Embassy, took his old suite of rooms at the Hotel Bristol in the Place Vendome, where he had often stayed as Prince of Wales. His Majesty came to Paris via Marseilles, where he had a very hearty reception, and arriving at the Gare de Lyon was met by Sir Francis Bertie and the staff of the Embassy, and that all-important functionary, the Prefect of the Police. A good number of people gathered in the Place Vendome in the hope of seeing the King, but the weather was showery, and he drove in a closed carriage, and they were disappointed. The Hotel Bristol in the Place Vendome—formerly a monastery—is managed by an Englishman, Mr. Morlock, who is well known to many crowned heads. The Tsar of Russia stayed there before his accession to the throne; the late King and Queen of Portugal, and many others. Mr. Morlock is a most genial host, and although he has been so long in France is proud of his nationality, and always ready to join in any movement for the good of the British colony. I had been informed that His Majesty would attend Divine Service on the Sunday morning, and took the precaution to admit only by ticket, to prevent over-crowding. It was well I did so, for a great crowd assembled outside the Church, and would have prevented the regular worshippers from entering. Owing to this arrangement the Church was filled before the hour of service, and there was no confusion. It was Eastertide, and the hymns “Jesus lives! no longer now—Can thy terrors, death, appal us” and “Hosanna to the living Lord” were sung with great fervour. I had requested the congregation to remain in their seats during the singing of the National Anthem at the close of the service—the intention being that His Majesty and the staff of the Embassy would then leave and thus prevent crowding at the door. However, the King stayed until the end, and, I was told, joined heartily in the anthem. We always omitted the second verse having the words “Confound their politics,” as being guests in a foreign land.

Upon this occasion His Majesty sat in the Embassy gallery with Sir Francis Bertie and the staff. An amusing incident happened as the King left the Church. A loud crash was heard and caused some excitement. It came from a photographer who had perched himself upon a high ladder with a large camera, hoping for a snapshot. He fell owing to the breaking of the ladder just as the King came out of the porch. He was very disappointed at losing the photograph.

Upon the return to the hotel the King received Admiral Fournier, who had presided over the enquiry relating to the North Sea firing incident, and conferred upon him the insignia of a Knight Grand Cross of the Victorian Order.

The reception of His Majesty on the part of the people was in marked contrast to that of his former visit. There were very few cries in the streets on that occasion, but now one often heard “Vive le Roi” and “Vive l’Angleterre” shouted with a hearty good will. The “Entente Cordiale” was an established fact.

HIS MAJESTY LEAVING THE EMBASSY CHURCH.

The third visit of the King during my chaplaincy took place in March, 1906, when he travelled as the Duke of Lancaster, arriving in Paris from Cherbourg on the Saturday evening. The Royal train was brought round to the Gare des Invalides, where the King was met by Sir Francis Bertie and the staff of the Embassy, M. Mollard representing the President of the Republic, and M. Lepine, Prefect of Police. As His Majesty ascended the stairs a flashlight photograph of the scene was taken by an unauthorised person—much to the annoyance of all present, as the explosion caused a temporary alarm. Next morning the King attended the Embassy Church, and sat in the Royal gallery with Sir Francis and Lady Feodorowna Bertie. Little change was made in the service, except that I preached a short sermon in order to keep within the limited time. My text was “But the Word of God is not bound,” and the collection was for the British and Foreign Bible Society. H.R.H. Princess Henry of Battenberg and the Princess Ena (now Queen of Spain) joined the King at the Embassy for lunch. His Majesty drove to and from the church in a closed carriage, and although there was a great crowd, his desire to be “incognito” was respected. It was upon this occasion that His Majesty handed to M. Fallières the missing leaves from the second volume of “The History of the antiquities of the Jews” for the Bibliothéque Nationale. M. Loubet, former President of the Republic, was one of the many who called upon the King, and it was characteristic of the kind feeling of His Majesty that he returned the call at the private apartment of M. Loubet—an act that was much appreciated by the people generally. I often heard French people speak of it. Upon this visit the Embassy in the Faubourg St. Honore was turned into a Royal Palace, the King and his suite staying there. I was told of the following incident which indicates the change of feeling on the part of the French. After dinner at a fashionable restaurant (while the King was in Paris) the band was called upon to play the English National Anthem by a party of Frenchmen. Then some Englishmen present called for the Marseillaise, which was received with the same honours and enthusiasm.

By a curious chance there was a party of Germans present, and these stood up and uncovered while both the National Anthems were being played. Beyond the various social functions there was no other special incident, and the short visit passed off very satisfactorily in every way.

I have told of the enthusiasm evoked by the first official visit of His Majesty to Paris, and the two subsequent visits, but when it was reported early in 1907 that the King was coming, accompanied by the Queen, enthusiasm knew little bounds. Many of the English Colony had never seen the Queen, and were on tiptoe of expectation. Their Majesties arrived in Paris from London on Saturday evening, February 2nd, at the Gare du Nord, where they received an enthusiastic—though non-official—welcome, for they were travelling as the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster. The photographic fiend was again in evidence, and Her Majesty gave a perceptible start as the magnesium light flashed, although she must be accustomed to this annoyance. I was told that the crowd outside the station was enormous, and the cries “Vive le Roi—Vive la Reine” were very hearty, both there and along the route to the British Embassy, which was to be the temporary home of their Majesties. Notwithstanding the fatigues of the journey the King and Queen paid a visit to the Nouveau Cirque in the evening, much to the delight of those present.