Nothing will make a
Frenchman thoroughly your friend sooner than heartily to praise his
country. It is for this I love them.
Arrived at Sartory I had a long walk to reach the camp; and instead of
inquiring, as I ought to have done, whether the review was to take
place, I took it for granted. I saw bodies of soldiers moving in
various directions, officers galloping about, and flying artillery
trundling along, and heard drums, trumpets, and bands, and thought it
was all right.
A fifteen minutes' walk brought me to the camp, where tents for some
twenty-five thousand whiten the plain far as the eye can reach. There,
too, I saw distant masses of infantry moving. I might have known by
their slouchy way that they were getting home from parade, not
preparing for it. But I thought the latter, and lying down under a
tree, waited for the review to begin.
It was almost three o'clock. I waited and waited. The soldiers did not
come. I waited, and waited, and waited. The soldiers seemed to have
_gone_ more and more. The throne where the emperor was to sit
remained unoccupied. At last it was four o'clock. Thought I, I will
just ask these redcaps here about this.
"Messieurs," said I, "will you be so good as to inform me if the
emperor is to be here to-day?"
"No," they replied, "he comes on Sunday."
"And what is to be done here, then?" I asked.
"Here," they replied, "to-day? Nothing; _c'est fini_ - it is all
over. The review was at one o'clock."
There I had been walking from Versailles, and waiting for a parade
some two hours after it was all over, among crowds of people who could
have told me at once if I had not been so excessively modest as not to
ask.
About that time an American might have been seen precipitately seeking
the railroad. I had _not_ seen the elephant. It was hot, dusty,
and there was neither cab nor _caleche_ in reach.
I arrived at the railroad station just in time to see the train go out
at one end as I came in at the other. This was conducive to a frame of
mind that scarcely needs remark. Out of that depot (it was half past
four, and at six they dine in Paris) with augmented zeal and decision
I pitched into a cab.
"_A l'autre station, vite, vite!_" - To the other station, quick,
quick! He mounted the box, and commenced lashing his Rosinante, who
was a subject for crows to mourn over, (because they could hope for
nothing in trying to pick him,) and in an ambling, scrambling pace,
composed of a trot, a canter, and a kick, we made a descent like an
avalanche into the station yard.
