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 à
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 embarrassment, kindly said,
"Don't worry; you are not late."
I told him I had been sight-seeing in Compiègne, 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 assured 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-balls 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 button.
The various equipages were waiting to take us to the field.
The Duchess 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 Compiègne. 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-glasses, 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.