Part 15 (1/2)

THeOPHILE GAUTIER.

Charles had gone long before, and I became absorbed in reading it, and forgot to look at the clock, when suddenly, seeing how late it was, I rushed down into the gallery, and what was my horror at finding myself alone with the _Cent Gardes_, who were standing at ease! It was the first time I had ever seen them look like mortal beings, and not like statues, and it signified, naturally, that every one was in the _salle a manger_, and that I was too late. However, I thought I could slip into the room unnoticed, and a place at the table would be offered to me; but, alas! it happened that just this morning the Emperor had desired me to sit next to him at the table, and the valet de chambre had been and was still, waiting for me at the door to conduct me to my place on the sovereign's left hand.

I cannot tell you how I felt as I was being marshaled up the whole length of the room, stared at by every one, and criticized, probably, for this horrible breach of etiquette. I never was so mortified in all my life. I took my place, speechless and confused, and Prince Murat, who sat on the other side of me, kept saying, ”The Emperor is piping mad.” The Prince Murat is half American (his mother was a Miss Frazier, from New Jersey), therefore I will forgive him for wanting to tease me.

I suppose I must have looked very red, and I certainly was very out of breath, for the Emperor, probably noticing my embarra.s.sment, kindly said, ”Don't worry; you are not late.”

I told him I had been sight-seeing in Compiegne, and I hoped he would forgive me.

The Empress smiled and nodded to me in the most gracious manner across the table, as if to put me at my ease.

The Emperor told me that he had sent up to Paris for a game of croquet, having heard from Prince Metternich that we all loved so much to play it, adding that he would like to see the game himself. ”We are going to have a mock battle this afternoon,” said he. ”All these generals and officers who are here have come from everywhere to take part I think it will amuse you to see it, if you have never seen anything of the kind.”

I a.s.sured him I had never seen a battle, mock or otherwise, and had no idea what it could be like.

”Well, you shall see,” he said.

”Is there,” I inquired, ”as much firing as yesterday?”

”Much more; but this time with cannons,” he replied.

”I hope the cannon-b.a.l.l.s are also mock,” I ventured to say.

I told the Emperor of the poetry which Gautier had sent to me, and, having it in my hand, showed it to him, saying, ”Ought I to forgive him?”

”You ought to forgive him,” he said. ”This is the most exquisite thing I ever have read.”

”If your Majesty says so, I will.”

The manoeuvers were to commence at two o'clock. All the ladies wore their hunting-dresses, and I was proud to don my gold b.u.t.ton.

The various equipages were waiting to take us to the field.

The d.u.c.h.ess de Persigny, Princess Murat, Baron Beyens, the Marquis de Caux, and I got in the same carriage; many of the ladies appeared on horseback. Princess Ghika rode one of the three horses she had brought with her to Compiegne. Madame de Vatry rode one of the Emperor's.

All the carriages, on reaching the field where the manoeuvers were to take place, were drawn up in line, in order that every one should have a good view. Then the Emperor and Empress, on their beautiful horses, and the Prince Imperial, full of youthful dignity, on his cream-colored pony, arrived, accompanied by the staff of splendidly uniformed generals and officers, who took up their positions behind their Majesties before the manoeuvers commenced.

The Empress looked radiantly beautiful, her well fitting riding-habit showing her fine figure to the greatest advantage.

It was, as the Emperor had said, a mock battle, but it seemed to me, not having had much experience in battles, to be very real.

Officers careered over the field for dear life; orderlies with enormous flat, four-cornered things flapping across their backs, scurried to and fro; trumpeters sounded bugles, waved flags, and made signals.... What could look more real and less mock than this?

It was France _versus_ an imaginary enemy.

It seemed as if the one thing France craved and coveted was a poor, lonely farm-house in the distance, apparently unprotected. All the stratagems of war, all the trumpeting and capering about, were brought to bear on conquering that little house. The artillery collided up against it; the infantry, with drums beating, marched boldly to the very door-steps; the cavalry pranced around it.... But for the life of me, though I was staring as hard as I could through my opera-gla.s.ses, I could not tell whether France had got it or not. However, there was so much smoke, it might have capitulated without my noticing. I suppose the generals knew.

It made me think of Tennyson's ”Charge of the Light Brigade.”

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them, Volley'd and thunder'd.