On these long excursions the Queen carried a map and made out the itinerary herself with the skill of a staff officer; she also taught me and my sisters how to take our bearings.
At this time the automobile had not yet ravaged the world. I have come across this stupefying remark of a Frenchman, "Speed is the aristocracy of movement." One might as well say, "Thoughtlessness is the aristocracy of thought." The automobile is doubtless of occasional individual benefit, but I look upon it as a general scourge. Side by side with the satisfaction which it procures, it upsets existence by precipitating it.
At the time when horse-drawn vehicles were in constant use, we had different impressions of a day's excursion than those which we have after the end of three weeks' feverish motoring—when we halt at various palaces, drive between interminable rows of poplars, interspersed with fleeting visions of fields, houses and poultry-yards, and when we are tortured by the dread of being made untidy by the wind and splashed by the mud.
It is nearly half a century since the horse was the ornament and comfort of the best European society. The example of the Queen of Belgium then counted for something.
In France, the Orleans family—which is related to ours—and the Duc and Duchesse de Chartres led the fashion not only in Cannes, but in Normandy and in the delicious region of Chantilly. The duchess always rode in an admirable riding habit. I well remember her black eyes, her pure features and her dazzling personality which were a mixture of natural charm and inborn distinction.
The Prince de Joinville, so artistic, so witty, was endowed with the most exquisite and gallant spirit. He paid me marked attention, as did his brother the Duc de Montpensier. We were a very gay trio, and the graver members of the family were wont to cast severe glances in our direction.
The mention of the Orleans family recalls to me the most indulgent, the greatest nobleman of all—the Duc d'Aumale, a faithful friend of Belgium and often our host. Oh! what a loyal and noble character the French Republic refused to recognize in him. His revenge was to overwhelm his ungrateful country with kindness. I have lived under his roof and I think of him with the greatest tenderness. I still see myself in a room on the ground floor overlooking the moat at Chantilly, where this princely host surrounded himself with everything that counted for anything in France, and where he held wonderful receptions, frequently numbering among his guests the magnificent-looking Prince de Condé, whom he honoured and had almost brought back to life.
The Queen and the Duc d'Aumale were greatly attached to one another. When the bitterness of a difficult situation rendered her life first difficult, and then impossible, owing to the King's forgetfulness of what was due from the man to the prince, the Duc d'Aumale was one of those invaluable friends whose delicate understanding and faithful thoughts consoled her helplessness.
Although devoted to the Duc d'Aumale, I also knew the Comtesse de Paris intimately, with whom I have stayed at the Château d'Eu. She was an eccentric woman, rather odd-looking in appearance, but she possessed a joyous and lively disposition.
Another lady of the Orleans family who became familiar to me in early life was the Princess Clémentine of respected memory, a daughter of King Louis Philippe, and the wife of Prince Auguste of Coburg. I became her daughter-in-law by my marriage with her eldest son, and my ardent hope was that she would be a second mother to me. It did not occur to either of us that her age and my youth could not agree.