He (like so many others) wrote repeated
letters and warnings to the French Foreign Office, which apparently had
no effect. One heard afterward that several letters of that description
from French diplomatists in Germany were found unopened in a drawer at
the ministry.
It was rather sad, as we drove through the stately alleys of the Park of
St. Cloud, with the setting sun shining through the fine old trees, to
hear of all the fetes that used to take place there,--and one could
quite well fancy the beautiful Empress appearing at the end of one of
the long avenues, followed by a brilliant suite of ladies and
ecuyers,--and the echoes of the cor de chasse in the distance. The
alleys are always there, and fairly well kept, but very few people or
carriages pass. The park is deserted. I don't think the cor de chasse
would awaken an echo or a regret even, so entirely has the Empire and
its glories become a thing of the past. A rendezvous de chasse was a
very pretty sight.
We went once to Compiegne before I was married, about three years before
the war. We went out and breakfasted at Compiegne with a great friend of
ours, M.
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