rince and Colonel Abercromby (you know both, I believe)
also dined there two days we remained.

On Sunday there was a Procession. The most curious circumstance was that
a troop of British cavalry attended to clear the way and do the honours,
for the National Guard had been disarmed three days before in
consequence of an order from the Duke of Wellington (nobody knows why).
They gave up their arms without a murmur; some few, I believe, expressed
by a "Bah!" and a shrug of the shoulders that it was not quite agreeable
to their feelings, but "voila tout." "I say, Jack," said a Grenadier of
the Guards to his Companion, by whom I was standing as the procession
came out of the Church, "who is that fellow with a gold coat and
gridiron?" "Why, that's St. Lawrence," and so it was.

St. Lawrence led the way, followed by a brass St. Andrew as stiff as a
poker and as much resembling St. Andrew as I conceive; but my companion
the Grenadier thought differently, for he pronounced him to be a Chef
d'oeuvre. "Well now, Jack, that's quite natural." ...

I must hurry you on to Compiegne, merely saying that we traversed a
country fringed with immense forests in which wolves are born and live
and die without much interruption, tho' we were told at one of the Inns
that a peasant had, a day or two before, captured seven juvenile
individuals of the species and carried them off uneaten by their
disconsolate parents.

Our chief reason for visiting Compiegne was that we might see a Palace
fitted up for Marie Louise by Bonaparte in a style of splendour
surpassing, in my opinion, any Palace I have seen in France.

_Mrs. E. Stanley to Lady Maria J. Stanley._

PARIS, _June 28, 1816_.

And here I am--and what shall I tell you first? And how shall I find
time to tell you anything in the wandering Arab kind of life we are
leading? It is very new and very amusing and I enjoy it very much, but I
enjoy still more the thoughts of how much I shall enjoy my own quiet
home and children again when I get to them.

We arrived on Tuesday evening, and in half an hour I was in the Palais
Royal in the Cafe de Mille Colonnes, and at night the brilliancy of the
Lamps and Mirrors, glittering in every direction in every alley,
displayed this new scene to me in the newest colours; and it was very
like walking in a new world....

The Fetes for the marriage of the Due de Berri are unfortunately all
over. Except the entertainments at the Court itself, a French pa