PARIS, _October 13, 1865_.
DEAR FRIEND: I found your letter yesterday, on my return from Biarritz,
whence their Majesties brought me back in a fair state of preservation.
The first welcome which my native land accorded me, however, was
anything but cordial. Last night I suffered one of the most prolonged
attacks of choking that I had experienced for weeks. It is the result, I
suppose, of the change of temperature, or it may be the effect of
thirteen or fourteen hours of jolting over a very rough railroad. It
seemed as if I was in a winnowing-basket. This morning I am feeling
better.
I have not as yet seen a soul, and think no one has returned to Paris,
but I have received some lugubrious letters from persons who speak of
nothing but cholera, and who beg me to fly from Paris. Here no one pays
any attention to it, so I am told, and the fact is, I believe that, with
the exception of several old topers, there have been no serious cases.
If the cholera had made its first appearance in Paris, probably we
should have thought no more about it. It took the cowardice of the
Marseillais to give us the warning. I have informed you of my theory on
the subject of cholera; no one dies of it unless he really wishes to
die, and it is a visitor so polite, that it never makes a call upon you
without sending its visiting-card in advance, as the Chinese do.
I spent my time most agreeably at Biarritz. We had a visit from the
king and queen of Portugal. The king is a very shrinking German student.
The queen is charming. She bears a strong resemblance to the princess
Clotilde, but she is more beautiful. She is a revised edition. Her
complexion is that of a lily and of a rose, rare even in England. Her
hair is red, to be sure, but it is the dark red so fashionable just now.
She is extremely engaging and polite. They brought along with them a
certain number of male and female caricatures, who seemed to have been
gathered up from some curiosity-shop. My friend, the Portuguese
minister, took the queen aside and gave her a little tirade about me,
which her Majesty immediately repeated to me with much graciousness. The
emperor presented me to the king, who shook hands with me, and looked at
me with two big, round, startled eyes, that made me almost fail in my
duties.
Another person, M. de Bismarck, pleased me more. He is a large German,
very polite, and not at all unsophisticated. His manner is absolutely
lacking in _gemüth_, but is full of intelligence. He conquered me
completely. He brought with him a wife, who has the biggest feet beyond
the Rhine, and a daughter who walks in her mother’s footsteps.
I have said nothing of don Enrique or of the duke of Mecklenburg, I know
not why. The Legitimist party is in a terrible state since the death of
General Lamoricière. I met yesterday an Orleanist of the old school, who
was also disconsolate. How cheaply, nowadays, one becomes a great man!
Please tell me what I may read of the good things written since I ceased
to live among the cleverest people of the universe. I should like,
indeed, to see you.
Good-bye. I am going to take care of my health until the fêtes at
Compiègne make me ill again.