He had thought the matter well over, and had a final talk with
Freycinet, who would have liked to keep both W. and Léon Say, but it
wasn't easy to manage the new element that Freycinet brought with him.
The new members were much more advanced in their opinions. W. couldn't
have worked with them, and they certainly didn't want to work with him.
The autumn session came to a turbulent end on the 26th of December, and
the next day the papers announced that the ministers had given their
resignations to the President, who had accepted them and had charged M.
de Freycinet to form a cabinet. We dined with mother on Christmas day, a
family party, with the addition of Comte de P. and one or two stray
Americans who were at hotels and were of course delighted not to dine on
Christmas day at a table d'hôte or café. W. was rather tired; the
constant talking and seeing so many people of all kinds was very
fatiguing, for, as long as his resignation was not official, announced
in the _Journal Officiel_, he was still Minister of Foreign Affairs.
One of the last days, when they were hoping to come to an agreement, he
was obliged to come home early to receive the mission from Morocco. I
saw them arrive; they were a fine set of men, tall, powerfully built,
their skin a red-brown, not black, entirely dressed in white from
turbans to sandals. None of them spoke any French--all the conversation
took place through an interpreter. Notwithstanding our worries, we had a
very pleasant evening and W. was very cheerful--looking forward to our
Italian trip with quite as much pleasure as I did.
W. made over the ministry to Freycinet on Monday, the 28th, the
transmission des pouvoirs. Freycinet was very nice and friendly,
regretted that he and W. were no longer colleagues. He thought his
ministry was strong and was confident he would manage the Chamber. W.
told him he could settle himself as soon as he liked at the Quai
d'Orsay, as we should go at once, and would sleep at our house on
Wednesday night. Freycinet said Madame de Freycinet (whom I knew well
and liked very much) would come and see me on Wednesday, and would like
to go over the house with me. I was rather taken aback when W. told me
we must sleep in our own house on Wednesday night. The actual packing
was not very troublesome, as I had not brought many of my own things
from the rue Dumont d'Urville. There was scarcely a van-load of small
furniture and boxes, but the getting together of all the small things
was a bore,--books, bibelots, music, cards, and notes (these in
quantities, lettres de condoléance, which had to be carefully sorted as
they had all to be answered). The hotel of the Quai d'Orsay was crowded
with people those last two days, all W.'s friends coming to express
their regrets at his departure, some very sincerely sorry to see him go,
as his name and character certainly inspired confidence abroad--and some
delighted that he was no longer a member of such an advanced
cabinet--(some said "de cet infect gouvernement"), where he was obliged
by his mere presence to sanction many things he didn't approve of. He
and Freycinet had a long talk on Wednesday, as W. naturally wanted to be
sure that some provision would be made for his chef de cabinet and
secretaries. Each incoming minister brings his own staff with him.
Freycinet offered W. the London Embassy, but he wouldn't take it, had
had enough of public life for the present. I didn't want it either, I
had never lived much in England, had not many friends there, and was
counting the days until we could get off to Rome. There was one funny
result of W. having declined the London Embassy. Admiral Pothnau, whom
W. had named there, and who was very much liked, came to see him one day
and made a great scene because Freycinet had offered him the London
Embassy. W. said he didn't understand why he made a scene, as he had
refused it. "But it should never have been offered to you over my head."
"Perhaps, but that is not my fault. I didn't ask for it--and don't want
it. If you think you have been treated badly, you should speak to
Freycinet." However, the admiral was very much put out, and was very
cool with us both for a long time. I suppose his idea was that being
recalled would mean that he had not done well in London, which was quite
a mistake, as he was very much liked there.
We dined alone that last night at the ministry, and sat some time in the
window, looking at the crowds of people amusing themselves on the Seine,
and wondering if we should ever see the Quai d'Orsay again. After all,
we had had two very happy interesting years there--and memories that
would last a lifetime.--Some of the last experiences of the month of
December had been rather disillusioning, but I suppose one must not
bring any sentiment into politics. In the world it is always a case of
donnant--donnant--and--when one is no longer in a position to give a
great deal--people naturally turn to the rising man. Comte de P., chef
de cabinet, came in late as usual, to have a last talk. He too had been
busy, as he had a small apartment and stables in the hotel of the
ministry, and was also very anxious to get away. He told us all the
young men of the cabinet were very sorry to see W. go--at first they had
found him a little cold and reserved--but a two years' experience had
shown them that, if he were not expansive, he was perfectly just, and
always did what he said he would.
The next day Madame de Freycinet came to see me, and we went over the
house. She didn't care about the living-rooms, as they never lived at
the Quai d'Orsay, remained in their own hotel near the Bois de Boulogne.
Freycinet came every day to the ministry, and she merely on reception
days--or when there was a party. Just as she was going, Madame de
Zuylen, wife of the Dutch minister, a great friend of mine, came in. She
told me she had great difficulty in getting up, as I had forbidden my
door, but my faithful Gérard (I think I missed him as much as anything
else at first) knowing we were friends, thought Madame would like to see
her. She paid me quite a long visit,--I even gave her some tea off
government plate and china,--all mine had been already sent to my own
house. We sat talking for some time. She had heard that W. had refused
the London Embassy, was afraid it was a mistake, and that the winter in
Paris would be a difficult one for him--he would certainly be in
opposition to the Government on all sorts of questions--and if he
remained in Paris he would naturally go to the Senate and vote. I quite
agreed that he couldn't suddenly detach himself from all political
discussions--must take part in them and must vote. The policy of
abstention has always seemed to me the weakest possible line in
politics. If a man, for some reason or another, hasn't the courage of
his opinions, he mustn't take any position where that opinion would
carry weight. I told her we were going to Italy as soon as we could get
off after the holidays.
While we were talking, a message came up to say that the young men of
the cabinet were all coming up to say good-bye to me. I had seen the
directors earlier in the day, so Madame de Zuylen took her leave,
promising to come to my Christmas tree in the rue Dumont d'Urville. The
young men seemed sorry to say good-bye--I was, too. I had seen a great
deal of them and always found them ready and anxious to help me in
every way. The Comte de Lasteyrie, who was a great friend of ours as
well as a secretary, went about a great deal with us. W. called upon him
very often for all sorts of things, knowing he could trust him
absolutely. He told one of my friends that one of his principal
functions was to accompany Madame Waddington to all the charity sales,
carrying a package of women's chemises under his arm. It was quite true
that I often bought "poor clothes" at the sales. The objects exposed in
the way of screens, pincushions, table-covers, and, in the spring, hats
made by some of the ladies, were so appalling that I was glad to have
poor clothes to fall back upon, but I don't remember his ever carrying
my purchases home with me.
They were much amused when suddenly Francis burst into the room, having
escaped a moment from his Nonnon, who was busy with her last packing,
his little face flushed and quivering with anger because his toys had
been packed and he was to be taken away from the big house. He kicked
and screamed like a little mad thing, until his nurse came to the
rescue. I made a last turn in the rooms to see that all trace of my
occupation had vanished. Francis, half pacified, was seated on the
billiard-table, an old grey-haired huissier, who was always on duty
up-stairs, taking care of him. The huissiers and house servants were all
assembled in the hall, and the old Pierson, who had been there for
years, was the spokesman, and hoped respectfully that Madame "would soon
come back...." W. didn't come with us, as he still had people to see and
only got home in time for a late dinner.
We dined that night and for many nights afterward with our uncle
Lutteroth (who had a charming hotel filled with pictures and bibelots
and pretty things) just across the street, as it was some little time
before our kitchen and household got into working order again. The first
few days were, of course, very tiring and uncomfortable--the house
seemed so small after the big rooms at the Quai d'Orsay. I didn't
attempt to do anything with the salons, as we were going away so
soon--carpets and curtains had to be arranged to keep the cold out, but
the big boxes remained in the carriage house--not unpacked. We had a
procession of visitors all day--and tried to make W.'s library
possible--comfortable it wasn't, as there were packages of books and
papers and boxes everywhere.
I had a good many visits and flowers on New Year's day--which was an
agreeable surprise--Lord Lyons, Orloff, the Sibberns, Comte de Ségur,
M. Alfred André, and others. André, an old friend of W.'s, a very
conservative Protestant banker, was very blue about affairs. André was
the type of the modern French Protestant. They are almost a separate
class in France--are very earnest, religious, honourable, narrow-minded
people. They give a great deal in charity and good works of all kinds.
In Paris the Protestant coterie is very rich. They associate with all
the Catholics, as many of them entertain a great deal, but they live
among themselves and never intermarry. I hardly know a case where a
French Protestant has married a Catholic. I suppose it is a remnant of
their old Huguenot blood, and the memories of all their forefathers
suffered for their religion, which makes them so intolerant. The
ambassadors had paid their usual official visit to the Elysée--said
Grévy was very smiling and amiable, didn't seem at all preoccupied. We
had a family dinner at my uncle's on New Year's night, and all the
family with wonderful unanimity said the best wish they could make for
W. was that 1880 would see him out of politics and leading an
independent if less interesting life.
An interesting life it certainly was, hearing so many questions
discussed, seeing all sorts of people of all nationalities and living as
it were behind the scenes. The Chamber of Deputies in itself was a
study, with its astounding changes of opinion, with no apparent cause.
One never knew in the morning what the afternoon's session would bring,
for as soon as the Republican party felt themselves firmly established,
they began to quarrel among themselves. I went back to the ministry one
afternoon to pay a formal visit to Madame de Freycinet on her reception
day. I had rather put it off, thinking that the sight of the well-known
rooms and faces would be disagreeable to me and make me regret, perhaps,
the past, but I felt already that all that old life was over--one adapts
one's self so quickly to different surroundings. It did seem funny to be
announced by my own special huissier, Gérard, and to find myself sitting
in the green drawing-room with all the palms and flowers arranged just
as they always were for me, and a semicircle of diplomats saying exactly
the same things to Madame de Freycinet that they had said to me a few
days before, but I fancy that always happens in these days of democracy
and equalising education, and that under certain circumstances, we all
say and do exactly the same thing. I had quite a talk with Sibbern, the
Swedish minister, who was very friendly and sympathetic, not only at our
leaving the Foreign Office, but at the extreme discomfort of moving in
such frightfully cold weather. He was wrapped in furs, as if he were
going to the North Pole. However, I assured him we were quite warm and
comfortable, gradually settling down into our old ways, and I was
already looking back on my two years at the Quai d'Orsay as an agreeable
episode in my life. I had quite a talk too with the Portuguese minister,
Mendes Leal. He was an interesting man, a poet and a dreamer, saw more,
I fancy, of the literary world of Paris than the political. Blowitz was
there, of course--was always everywhere in moments of crisis, talking a
great deal, and letting it be understood that he had pulled a great many
wires all those last weeks. He too regretted that W. had not taken the
London Embassy, assured me that it would have been a very agreeable
appointment in England--was surprised that I hadn't urged it. I replied
that I had not been consulted. Many people asked when they could come
and see me--would I take up my reception day again? That wasn't worth
while, as I was going away so soon, but I said I would be there every
day at five o'clock, and always had visits.
[Illustration: Mme. Sadi Carnot. From a drawing by Mlle. Amelie
Beaury-Saurel.]
One day Madame Sadi Carnot sat a long time with me. Her husband had been
named undersecretary at the Ministry of Public Works in the new
cabinet, and she was very pleased. She was a very charming, intelligent,
cultivated woman--read a great deal, was very keen about politics and
very ambitious (as every clever woman should be) for her husband and
sons. I think she was a great help socially to her husband when he
became President of the Republic. He was a grave, reserved man, didn't
care very much for society. I saw her very often and always found her
most attractive. At the Elysée she was amiable and courteous to
everybody and her slight deafness didn't seem to worry her nor make
conversation difficult. She did such a charming womanly thing just after
her husband's assassination. He lay in state for some days at the
Elysée, and M. Casimir Périer, his successor, went to make her a visit.
As he was leaving he said his wife would come the next day to see Madame
Carnot. She instantly answered, "Pray do not let her come; she is young,
beginning her life here at the Elysée. I wouldn't for worlds that she
should have the impression of sadness and gloom that must hang over the
palace as long as the President is lying there. I should like her to
come to the Elysée only when all traces of this tragedy have gone--and
to have no sad associations--on the contrary, with the prospect of a
long happy future before her."
[Illustration: _Photograph, copyright by Pierre Petit, Paris._
President Sadi Carnot.]
W. went the two or three Fridays we were in Paris to the Institute,
where he was most warmly received by his colleagues, who had much
regretted his enforced absences the years he was at the Foreign Office.
He told them he was going to Rome, where he hoped still to find some
treasures in the shape of inscriptions inédites, with the help of his
friend Lanciani. The days passed quickly enough until we started. It was
not altogether a rest, as there were always so many people at the house,
and W. wanted to put order into his papers before he left. Freycinet
made various changes at the Quai d'Orsay. M. Desprey, Directeur de la
Politique (a post he had occupied for years) was named ambassador to
Rome in the place of the Marquis de Gabriac. I don't think he was very
anxious to go. His career had been made almost entirely at the Foreign
Office, and he was much more at home in his cabinet, with all his papers
and books about him, than he would be abroad among strangers. He came to
dinner one night, and we talked the thing over. W. thought the rest and
change would do him good. He was named to the Vatican, where necessarily
there was much less to do in the way of social life than at the
Quirinal. He was perfectly au courant of all the questions between the
Vatican and the French clergy--his son, secretary of embassy, would go
with him. It seemed rather a pleasant prospect.
W. went once or twice to the Senate, as the houses met on the 12th or
14th of January, but there was nothing very interesting those first
days. The Chamber was taking breath after the holidays and the last
ministerial crisis, and giving the new ministry a chance. I think
Freycinet had his hands full, but he was quite equal to the task. I went
late one afternoon to the Elysée. I had written to Madame Grévy to ask
if she would receive me before I left for Italy. When I arrived, the one
footman at the door told me Madame Grévy was un peu souffrante, would
see me up-stairs. I went up a side staircase, rather dark, preceded by
the footman, who ushered me into Madame Grévy's bedroom. It looked
perfectly uncomfortable--was large, with very high ceilings, stiff gilt
furniture standing against the wall, and the heat something awful,--a
blazing fire in the chimney. Madame Grévy was sitting in an armchair,
near the fire, a grey shawl on her shoulders and a lace fichu on her
head. It was curiously unlike the bedroom I had just left. I had been to
see a friend, who was also souffrante. She was lying under a lace
coverlet lined with pink silk, lace, and embroidered cushions all
around her, flowers, pink lamp-shades, silver flacons, everything most
luxurious and modern. The contrast was striking. Madame Grévy was very
civil, and talkative,--said she was very tired. The big dinners and late
hours she found very fatiguing. She quite understood that I was glad to
get away, but didn't think it was very prudent to travel in such
bitterly cold weather--and Rome was very far, and wasn't I afraid of
fever? I told her I was an old Roman--had lived there for years, knew
the climate well, and didn't think it was worse than any other. She said
the President had had a visit from W. and a very long talk with him, and
that he regretted his departure very much, but that he didn't think
"Monsieur Waddington was au fond de son sac." Grévy was always a good
friend to W.--on one or two occasions, when there was a sort of cabal
against him, Grévy took his part very warmly--and in all questions of
home policy and persons W. found him a very keen, shrewd
observer--though he said very little--rarely expressed an opinion. I
didn't make a very long visit--found my way down-stairs as well as I
could--no servant was visible either on the stairs or in the hall, and
my own footman opened the big doors and let me out. We got off the first
days of February--as, up to the last moment, W. had people to see. We
went for two or three days to Bourneville--I had one or two very cold
tramps in the woods (very dry) which is quite unusual at this time of
the year, but the earth was frozen hard. Inside the woods we were well
sheltered, but when we came out on the plain the cold and icy wind was
awful. The workmen had made fires to burn the roots and rotten wood, and
we were very glad to stop and warm ourselves. Some had their children
with them, who looked half perished with cold, always insufficiently
clad, but they were quite happy roasting potatoes in the ashes. I was so
cold that I tied a woollen scarf around my head, just as the women in
Canada do when they go sleighing or skating.
We had a breakfast one day for some of W.'s influential men in the
country, who were much disgusted at the turn affairs had taken and that
W. could no longer remain minister, but they were very fairly au courant
of all that was going on in Parliament, and quite understood that for
the moment the moderate, experienced men had no chance. The young
Republic must have its fling. Has the country learned much or gained
much in its forty years of Republic?
INDEX
Adams, Sir Francis, school friend of
M. Waddington
Aisne, deputies and senators of Department
of the
Alexander of Battenberg, Prince
Alexander of Russia, Grand Duke
(Emperor Alexander III), interview
with
Alexandra, Queen
Ambassadors, treatment of, in Russia
Americans, violation of rules of court
etiquette by; good-natured tolerance
of, in European circles;
Lord Lyons's opinion of women
of
Andrassy, Count, at Berlin Congress;
personality of
André, Alfred
Annamites as dinner guests
Aosta, Due d', in Paris at opening of
exposition; author's impressions of
Arab horses presented to M. Waddington
Arco, Count
Arnim, Count, German ambassador
in Paris; succeeded by Prince
Hohenlohe
Aumale, Duc d', president of Bazaine
court-martial; at ball at
British embassy
Austria, description of Empress of,
when in Paris; stiffness of court
etiquette in
Baden, Grand Duchess of, M. Waddington's
meeting with
Bazaine, Marshal, court-martial of
Beaconsfield, Lord, at Berlin Congress
Bear as a pet at German embassy
Begging letters received by persons in
public life
Berlin Congress, the; French
plenipotentiaries named to the;
M. Waddington's account of doings at
Berlin Treaty, signing of
Bernhardt, Sarah
Beust, Comte de, as a musician
Bismarck, Count Herbert, story of
telegram from; welcomes M.
Waddington to Berlin
Bismarck, Countess Marie
Bismarck, Prince, account of, at Berlin
Congress; anxiety of,
over French advance in radicalism;
suspicions of sincerity
of, in anxiety for France;
surprise of, over speedy payment of
war indemnity by France
Bismarck, Princess, M. Waddington's
account of
Blowitz, M. de, present during meeting
of Berlin Congress;
M. Waddington's distrust of;
Prince Hohenlohe's high opinion of;
at Madame de Freycinet's
Borel, General
Bourneville, days at; a winter
house-party at; a winter
visit to
Breakfasts, political
Bridge, remarks on
Broglie, Duc de, cabinet of; unpopularity
of; break-up of
cabinet
Brown, John, retainer of Queen Victoria
Bunsen, George de
Bunsen family
Canrobert, Marshal
Capel, Monsignor
Cardinals, incidents attending naming of
Carnot, M. Sadi
Carnot, Madame
Carvalho, Madame
Casimir Périer, dislike of, for office of
president; mentioned;
story of Madame Carnot and
Cataldi, Monsignor
Catholics, views of, concerning Protestants
Chanzy, General, appointed ambassador to Russia
Châteaux in France
Children
interest of Frenchwomen in
good treatment of, by French of all classes
Chinese ambassador, experience at dinner with
Cialdini, General, Italian ambassador in Paris
Clarence, Duke of, love affair of, with Catholic princess
Comédie Française, finished style of artists of the
Compiègne, a scene at, during the Empire
Conciergerie
Mr. Gladstone at the
interest of American visitors in the
Conservatoire,
Sunday afternoon concerts at the
marriages made at the
change effected in dress of chorus of the
Monsignor Czascki at the
Convent of the Soeurs Augustines in the rue de la Santé
Corti
Italian plenipotentiary to Congress of Berlin
feeling of, over establishment of Tunisian protectorate by France
Costumes, national, seen in Paris during exposition year
Country people
lack of interest of French, in form of government
attitude of, in election of 1877
enthusiasm of, aroused over Republic
Croizette, Théâtre Français artist
Cyprus, cession of, to England
Czascki, Monsignor, papal nunzio
Deauville, a vacation at
Décazes, Duc
appointed to Foreign Office
advice on social etiquette from
Duc de Broglie contrasted with
Denmark, Crown Prince of
in Paris during exposition
at ball at British embassy
at ball at the Quai d'Orsay
Desprey, Monseigneur, created a Cardinal
Desprey, M.
a plenipotentiary of France at Berlin Congress
quoted on treatment of ambassadors in Russia
named ambassador to Rome
Diplomatists
antagonistic attitude of, toward the Republic
anomalous and mistaken behaviour of
superficiality of majority of
Dufaure, M.
appointed Président du Conseil
now cabinet formed by
Dufferin, Lord
Election of 1877
Elysée, ceremonies attending naming of Cardinals at
English, Monsignor
English visitors to Paris in 1879
Eugénie, Empress
at Compiègne
description of, and reminiscences concerning
Exposition Universelle of 1878
closing of
good moral effect of