"Did you see how we were affected when you sang 'Suwanee River'? I thought
to laugh, instead of which I cried; how could you make it so pathetic?"
"That is my teacher's art," I replied.
"Who is your teacher?"
"Monsieur Delsarte. Your Majesty has perhaps heard of him?"
"No," answered the Emperor. "I have never heard of him. Is he a great
singer?"
"He cannot sing at all, your Majesty; but he has wonderful theories which
go to prove that one does not need any voice at all to sing; one only
needs features to express one's emotions."
"He must be wonderful," the Emperor remarked.
"He is, your Majesty, and quite unique in his way. He says, for instance,
when he sings, 'J'ai du bon tabac dans ma tabatière,' and comes to 'Tu
n'en auras pas,' he can make people shed bitter tears, as though it were
too much to bear."
"His tobacco must be very good?" laughed the Emperor.
"It is the worst thing of its kind, your Majesty, one can imagine," I
answered.
"Is it perhaps Caporal?" said he, with a merry twinkle in his eye.
"I don't know anything about military grades, but, if there were anything
lower than a Caporal I should say it was the name of his tobacco."
"Well," he said, "if he taught you to sing as you sing, _il mérite de la
patrie._"
The Emperor was perfectly delightful, witty, amusing, and laughing
continually, with such a keen appreciation he seemed really to enjoy
himself.
As the programme in our room this morning read, _chasse à courre_, on
went the green dress for the second time, and, of course, the button. The
Duchess de Fernan Nuñez asked me to drive with her, which I was happy to
do, as I like her very much. We sat on the front seat, so as to have the
best view of the proceedings.
The Emperor and Empress were on horseback; all the gentlemen were in red
coats, white breeches, top-boots, and velvet caps, which made them look
very picturesque.
The rendezvous was at the Carrefour l'Étoile, and when we arrived the
hunters and equipage, with the _piqueurs_ and the _chasseurs_ from the
neighborhood, who belonged to the Imperial Hunt, were already there.
The Imperial _équipage de chasse_ is composed of ten _piqueurs, valets de
chien, valets à pieds, valets à cheval_, and _valets de limiers_, and one
hundred English hounds. The hounds are trained by the use of drags, which
are, as perhaps you know, bundles of something saturated in blood, which
the horses drag and the scent of which the hounds follow. The carriages
were drawn up on the side of the road to wait until their Majesties
appeared.
The ladies dressed in rich furs and velvets, the riders in brilliant red
coats on prancing horses, the attendant grooms, the _piqueurs_ in their
gay liveries, green and gold with green-velvet jockey caps, made a
wonderful spectacle. The day was superb, the sun shone brilliantly through
the autumn foliage, the hazy distances were of a tender hue, and
everything had an exquisite tint. Never shall I forget it!
Unfortunately our coachman neglected to follow the other carriages, and we
drove about a long time before we discovered that we were on the wrong
road, and then he became quite bewildered and seemed to lose his head
completely.
After driving from one cross-road to another, we at last chanced upon
Monsieur de Bourgogne, who told us that he was just in advance of their
Majesties, and that they would be there presently. He said that we had
better wait where we were, as the stag would probably pass by that way.
It seemed as if, in fact, we must be near, as we could hear the dogs
yelping and the horns sounding (they call it "hallali"). Count de Grammont
rode up to us and said we had better follow him, as we would then soon
come in sight of the hunters. Despite all these contradictory advices, our
coachman managed to arrive on the scene of action just in time for us to
see the poor stag, who had taken to the water for dear life (they call it
_bat l'eau_), and the dogs in a frenzy of excitement barking furiously and
plunging after him.
We could not see _all_ that happened, thank heaven! as our carriage was
behind the whole assembled crowd.
With my tenderness toward all animals, my heart ached for the poor beast,
and I hoped sincerely that he would escape his cruel pursuers. I could not
see any pleasure or excitement in watching this painful spectacle, and was
glad when the time came to turn our backs on the whole thing and return to
the château.
At the Empress's tea no one talked of anything else but the events of the
afternoon. I pretended that I had seen it all, even to the very end.
Princess Ghika, beaming all over with joy, was given the foot, as she was
in at the death.
Count de l'Aigle took me in to dinner. He is one of the neighbors, not one
of the guests; but, as he belongs to the Imperial Hunt, he is always
invited to this dinner.
The Empress looked superb in a brown tulle over satin, looped up with
brooches of diamonds. She had had a diamond crescent in her hair like
Diana. The Marquise de Gallifet was lovely in light-green tulle, with an
aigret of diamonds in her blond hair.
The table was arranged most appropriately for the occasion, decorated by
the whole _biscuit de Sèvres service de chasse_. Every one seemed gay
and stimulated by the excitement of the day.
When the usual after-dinner ceremonies and the _cercle_ in the salon were
terminated, the Grand Chamberlain announced to his Majesty that all was
ready for the _curée_, which was awaiting his permission to begin.
The Emperor and the Empress led the way into the long gallery, which
overlooks the _cour d'honneur_. We ladies had provided ourselves with
wraps and shawls, as we knew we should need them either on the balcony or
at the windows of the gallery, of which there are about twenty.
The Empress braved the weather and stood out on the balcony with the
Emperor, well wrapped in furs, for the night was cold; and the gentlemen,
not finding sufficient room, went below and stood on the steps of the
"Perron," which gives on to the courtyard.
All the lackeys, valets, grooms, in fact, all the household servants,
formed a large circle in the enormous _cour d'honneur_ opposite the
Imperial balcony, all bearing flaming torches made of tar, which lighted
up the whole place. Behind these stood the populace of Compiègne, who are
allowed to be present on these occasions.
At the farther side of the courtyard, and directly opposite their
Majesties, the chief huntsman held up the skin of the stag, which
contained the entrails, waving it backward and forward, in order to excite
the hounds. The _piqueurs_ stood in front of the "Perron," holding the
dogs back with great difficulty, for they were struggling to get loose,
and yelping in their eagerness and greediness to rush forward.
As the _chasseur_ waved the skin, the _piqueurs_ let the hounds loose, and
when they were half-way across the court, approaching the object of their
desire, the _piqueurs_ called them back, in order to show how well
disciplined and under what complete control they were.
The tantalizing of the poor animals was repeated several times. At last
the fanfare was sounded, and the hounds were allowed to rush forward midst
the tooting of horns, the cracking of whips, and the cries and shouts of
the crowd. The torches were waved high in the air, giving a weird light to
the whole scene, and the entrails at last were thrown to the dogs, and
before you could say "Jack Robinson" everything was devoured. You can
picture to yourself what a unique and fantastic sight this must have been!
It was eleven o'clock when we returned to the salon, where tea and
refreshments were served. Those returning to Paris took leave of their
Majesties and drove to the station, where the special Imperial train
provided for them was waiting.
Later their Majesties took leave of us.
We lingered a little, as it was our last evening.
On returning to my apartment, I saw on my table a package, on which was
written, _De la part de l'Empereur_. You can imagine how eager I was to
open it. Those magic words brought untold visions before my eyes. What
might it not be?
I opened the package feverishly, and what was my surprise and
_disappointment_ to find a rather ordinary-looking _tabatière_ and a
package of tobacco, written on it, _Du bon tabac pour le maître de chant
de Madame Moulton_.
Was it not a cruel blow?
_November 30th._
Here we are again in Paris, glad to be at home after our gay week in
Compiègne, charming and delightful as it was; there is always great
fatigue and tension attending such visits. To-day I luxuriate in one
dress; no changing five times a day. I allowed my maid to go out for the
day, and we are going to dine at a restaurant.... What a contrast! It
seems as if I had been away a month!
Before we left Compiègne yesterday, when we were taking our morning tea,
we were interrupted by the coming in of the majordomo, who handed us a
paper. We were not unprepared for this visit, as we had been told by one
of the guests, who had been here before, that every one was expected to
remain in their rooms until this important personage had made his rounds,
in order to collect the _pourboire_. I say THE _pourboire_, because what
one generally gives separately is lumped into one sum. This paper, which
he handed to us almost at the point of his _hallebarde_, proved to be a
_già scritto_ receipt for six hundred francs--our _pourboire!_
During breakfast yesterday the Emperor took up his glass, and, looking at
me across the table, drank my health. Among the guests there was a great
deal of health-drinking.
Gustave Doré had made some very clever caricatures of some events which he
had drawn beautifully and touched off with aquarelle, as he alone could do
it. The little album was passed stealthily from hand to hand under the
shelter of the table, with the strictest injunctions not to let any one
see it except your _immediate_ neighbor! With these injunctions it managed
to travel about half-way down the table.
He had made a lovely sketch of her Majesty driving a chariot like the
"Aurora" in the Rospigliosi Gallery, and had depicted the Emperor seated
on an enormous white horse, leading a charge of cavalry, his arm uplifted.
The Princess Metternich was represented as the coachman in the charade,
hat on one side, pipe in her mouth, and looking very _débonnaire_. Prince
Metternich was shown standing in the middle of an arena, in full
diplomatic uniform, with masses of decorations and _cordons_. He had a
long whip, such as are used in circuses, and men and women (meaning us,
I suppose) capering around doing their tricks.
The sketch of Madame de Persigny was very funny. A mass of tulle
petticoats, in the midst of which two little feet in the air, and a crown
rolling away in the distance.
The picture he made of me was the mechanical doll, ribbons floating all
about, and on every turn of the ribbons was written "Beware!"
The diplomat's shoe was not forgotten. There was a table a mile long, and
at the very end of it a little shoe seen underneath.
We were in our traveling costumes, and on our return to the salon their
Majesties went about saying pleasant and gracious things to every one.
They hoped we would remember our visit with as much pleasure as they
would, etc.
There was a greater animation than usual, and less ceremony; people talked
louder and with less restraint; every one bade good-by to the ladies and
gentlemen of the Household who remained. The Empress gave her hand to be
kissed by the gentlemen (some of them, not all), kissed some ladies, and
shook hands with others.
When their Majesties were ready to dismiss us they bowed, and we all
departed to get our hats and wraps,
I gave a lingering look at the lovely rooms I was leaving, which were now
devoid of our trunks and little personal trinkets, nodded a farewell to
our particular valet, who was probably thinking already of our successors,
descended _l'Escalier d'honneur_, and passed through the beautiful
_Galerie des Gardes_ to the colonnades, where the _chars-à-bancs_ were
ready waiting to carry us to the station. We were a rather subdued party
in the train; the conversation mostly turned on the subject of
_pourboires_. The _huissier_ decides the exact amount that each ought to
give. For instance, he knows an ambassador ought to give two thousand
francs. For a minister of state one thousand francs suffices. Unofficial
people like ourselves cannot be expected to be out of pocket more than six
hundred francs. As for the poor nobility of France, they escape with five
hundred!
Some were of opinion that it was pleasanter to give _en masse_, in one big
sum, than to give in driblets; others thought it more satisfactory to hand
one's offering personally to the different servants; but we all, with one
voice, voted the officious beadle an imposition.
The daily expenses of Compiègne, so the _Gouverneur de la Maison_ told us,
and he ought to know, are not less than ten thousand francs a day, and
there are more than nine hundred people living in the Palace at a time, to
be fed and warmed.
To-day, at five o'clock, the fourth _série_ will come; it is called _la
série des oubliés_, as ours was called _la série élégante_. The first is
called _la série obligatoire_, the second _les ennuyeux_.
We found our carriage at the station. Our simple coupé seemed a great
come-down from the beautiful carriages we had been driving in, and good
Louis and the footman, in their quiet liveries, seemed in fierce contrast
to the gorgeous creatures we had been familiar with so lately.
The family is at Petit Val, and we remain there quietly until January.
We found among our belongings an enormous _bourriche_, containing a
quantity of game, hares, pheasants, and so forth.
Good night! I am tired.