with all the grand traditions of
"la Venerie," recruited from the former establishments of the Condes and
Rohans;--in short, such eclat was to be given to them as to make them
not only the talk of the whole of France, but of Europe besides. The
experiment was worth trying. Compiegne was less than a hundred miles
from Paris; thousands would flock, not only from the neighbouring towns,
but from the capital also, and the glowing accounts they would be sure
to bring back would produce their effect. There would be, moreover, less
risk of incurring the remarks of an irreverent Paris mob, a mob which
instinctively finds out the ridiculous side of every ceremonial
instituted by the court, except those calculated to gratify its love of
military pomp and splendour. As yet, it was too early to belie the
words, "L'empire, c'est la paix;" we had not got beyond the "tame eagle"
period, albeit that those behind the scenes, among others a near
connection of mine, who was more than half a Frenchman himself,
predicted that the predatory instincts would soon reveal themselves,
against the Russian bear, probably, and in conjunction with the British
lion,--if not in conjunction with the latter, perhaps against him.

At any rate, les grandes chasses et fetes de Compiegne formed the first
item of that programme of "La France qui s'amuse,"--a programme and
play which, for nearly eighteen years, drew from all parts of the
civilized world would-be critics and spectators, few of whom perceived
that the theatre was undermined, the piece running to a fatal denoument,
and the bill itself the most fraudulent concoction that had ever issued
from the sanctum of a bogus impressario. But had not Lamartine, only a
few years previously, suggested, as it were, the tendency of the piece,
when, in the Chamber of Deputies, he said, "Messieurs, j'ai l'honneur et
le regret de vous avertir que la France s'ennuie"? Louis-Napoleon was
determined that no such reproach should be made during his reign. He
probably did not mean his fireworks to end in the conflagration of
Bazeilles, and to read the criticism on his own drama at Wilhelmshoehe,
but he should have held a tighter hand over his stage-managers. Some of
these were now getting their reward for having contributed to the
efficient representation of the prologue, which one might entitle "the
Coup d'Etat." General Magnan was appointed grand veneur--let us say,
master of the buckhounds,--with a stipend of a hundred