[CHAPTER IX]
1873

LETTER FROM GENERAL SHERMAN​--​LOSS OF THE “ATLANTIC”​--​THE BOYHOOD HOME OF NAPOLEON III. AND OF HIS MOTHER, QUEEN HORTENSE​--​A COMPANION TELLS OF THE PRINCE’S PRANKS AND STUDIES​--​JOSEPHINE’S HARP​--​ARENABERG FULL OF NAPOLEON RELICS​--​WE HAVE A LONG INTERVIEW WITH THE EX-EMPRESS EUGENIE​--​LETTER FROM GENERAL SHERMAN​--​SPEAKS OF THIERS.

May Day, 1873.​--​The terrible wreck of the White Star Liner “Atlantic,” took place two weeks since. Five hundred souls lost. I had secured passage for our young friend, Hirzel. He writes how he clung to the rigging that cold morning, and witnessed poor human beings gradually freezing, letting loose their hold, and dropping from the rigging down into the sea. He was almost the last one taken off on to the rocks.

General Sherman speaks of this disaster, as well as of the Modoc war:

“Washington, D. C., April 24, 1873.

“Dear Byers: Your last letter came promptly, and I have sent it out to Mrs. Sherman, who is on a visit to Ohio, and, of course, demands prompt notice of everything concerning Minnie. We get from her letters regularly and promptly, the last being dated at Castellamare, near Naples. She seemed unusually well, and said she would soon return to Rome, and then begin her northward progress. The Grahams will probably move slower than she wants to, and she will probably catch a favorable opportunity to reach you in Switzerland. I advise her to take this course; get near you, and then maneuver from that as her base for the summer. She does not seem very anxious to go to Vienna, though I advise it for no other reason than to see the Fair and the city, and also to see the family of our Minister, Mr. Jay. I want her to come home in September or October, and to arrange for her passage as early as possible, for there will be a rush in the autumn westward. Notwithstanding the loss of the ‘Atlantic,’ I have not lost faith in the White Star Line. It was not the fault of the ship that she was foundered on the rock at a twelve-mile speed. No ship could stand that; still, if she is afraid, then the Cunard Line will be preferable.

“Our spring has been very backward, indeed, but the trees are trying now to blossom and to leaf. The grass is very green, and I hope that winter is past. The President is away at the West and the Secretary of War in Texas, so times here are dull, although we find the Indians are trying their annual spring business; not very peaceful. You will have heard of the killing of General Canby, and the treacherous conduct of the Modocs. I hope the last one of them will be hunted out of their rocks and killed. I have not heard of the actual coming of Mr. Rublee, but notice that Consul Upton of Geneva has been named as chargé during his (Rublee’s) absence. If I hear of his resignation, I will endeavor to remind the President of your claims, but must warn you that against political combinations I find my influence very weak.

“Present me kindly to Mrs. Byers, and, believe me, truly your friend,

W. T. Sherman.”

The home of Queen Hortense, Napoleon’s stepdaughter, is on the Rhine, only a couple of hours’ ride from Zurich. One of our delightful excursions was to go and see the falls at Schaffhausen, and then take a little steamer up the river to “Arenaberg,” the beautiful chateau where the Queen lived for twenty years, and where she died. Here, too, her son, Napoleon III., lived, as a youth. In the stable building, close to the chateau, were his sleeping-rooms and study. Louis Napoleon once said he would rather be a fine country gentleman than Emperor of France. He got his tastes for the beautiful in nature in this boyhood home. The chateau sits above the Rhine, with beautiful hills behind it, and the historic lake of Constance close by. It is on Swiss territory, and is a spot of perfect loveliness. It is the one spot where Napoleon’s days were all happy days, and the one spot where Queen Hortense led a happy life. The scene is so perfectly enchanting, any one, not burdened with a crown, should find delight in just existing there. The Queen’s room, in the upper corner of the villa and overlooking the river and the lake, and with ravishing vistas beyond, is just as she left it at her death. There are her harp and her paint-brushes and her table. In this room she wrote the famous song of “Partant Pour la Syrie,” that moved all France. Walter Scott translated it into exquisite English.

Napoleon III.​--​[Page 81.]