"And why," the correspondent of the _Times_ asked me, "do you bring apologies to the French Government?"

"Because we ma.s.sacred some French residents."

"French residents! That's of no importance nowadays. France no longer exists. You can, if it amuses you, throw all the French residents into the sea."

"We also thoughtlessly ma.s.sacred some English residents."

"You ma.s.sacred some English residents! Oh, that's very different!

England is still a great nation. And you have brought apologies to Queen Victoria?"

"Yes, apologies and presents."

"Go to London, go straight to London, and don't bother about France; there is no France."

The correspondent of the _Times_ looked quite happy when he spoke those words: "there is no France."

LONDON, _October 10, 1870_.

I've seen the Queen of England. She received me very cordially. She has accepted the apologies; she has accepted the presents.

LONDON, _October 12, 1870_.

Had a long conversation with Lord Granville, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Queen of England. I explained to his Excellency that I meant to go home at once, and that I feel I need not pay further attention to my French emba.s.sy, as France no longer exists. Lord Granville answered me:

"Don't go away so soon; you will perhaps be obliged to come back, and sooner than you imagine. France is an extraordinary country, which picks up very quickly. Await the end of the war, and then you can take your apologies to the Government that France will have decided on giving itself. Till then remain in England. We shall be most happy to offer you our hospitality."

LONDON, _November 3, 1870_.

I did not return to China. I am waiting in London till the Minister of Foreign Affairs is not besieged, and till there is some way of laying one's hands on the French Government. There are many Parisians here who escaped from their country on account of the war. I dined yesterday with his Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. Three Parisian women, all three young, and all three pretty, took possession of me after dinner. We had a very interesting conversation in English.

"You are looking for the French Government, the legitimate Government?"

said the first of these Parisians. "Why, it is here in England, half an hour from London. To-morrow go to the Waterloo station and buy a ticket for Chiselhurst, and there you will find Napoleon III., who is, and has never ceased to be, the Emperor of the French."

"Don't listen to her, Mr. Amba.s.sador," laughingly said the second Parisian, "don't listen to her; she is a terrible Bonapartist. Yes, the true sovereign of France is in England, quite near London, but not at Chiselhurst; and it is not the Waterloo station you must go to, but the Victoria station. You mustn't take a ticket for Chiselhurst, but for Twickenham, and there you will find at Orleans House his Royal Highness the Count of Paris."

"Don't listen to her, Mr. Amba.s.sador," exclaimed in turn, and also laughing, the third Parisian, "don't listen to her; she is a terrible revolutionist! The Count of Paris is not the heir to the throne of France. To find the legitimate King you must go a little farther than Chiselhurst or Twickenham; you must go to Austria, to the Frohsdorf Palace. The King of France--he is the descendant of Henry IV.--is the Count of Chambord."

If I count aright, that makes three legitimate sovereigns, and all three deposed. Never in China have we had anything of that sort. Our old dynasty has had to fight against the invasions of the Mongols and against the insurrections of the Taipings. But three legitimate sovereigns for the same country, for a single throne! One has to come to Europe to see such things.

However, the three Parisians gayly discussed the matter, and seemed to be the best friends in the world.

LONDON, _November 15, 1870_.

As a sequel to the three Frenchwomen, representing three different monarchs, I met, this evening, at Lord Granville's, three Frenchmen representing three different republics.

The first asked me why I didn't go to Tours.

"You will find there," he said to me, "the authorized representatives of the French Republic, and in addressing yourself to M. Gambetta you are addressing France--"

"Don't do that, Mr. Amba.s.sador!" exclaimed the second Frenchman; "the real Government of the real French Republic is shut up in Paris. M.

Jules Favre alone can officially receive your visit and your apologies."

"The Republic of Paris isn't worth more than the Republic of Tours," the third Frenchman then told me. "If we have a Republic in France, it will be neither the Republic of M. Gambetta nor the Republic of M. Jules Favre."

"And whose Republic then?"

"The Republic of M. Thiers--"

Whereupon the three Frenchmen began to dispute in earnest. They were very red, shouted loudly, and made violent gestures. The discussion about the three monarchies had been much gentler and much more agreeable than the discussion about the three republics.

During the evening these Frenchmen managed to slip into my ear, in turn, two or three little phrases of this kind:

"Don't listen," the first one said to me, "to that partisan of the Government of Paris; he is a lawyer who has come here with a commission from M. Jules Favre. So you see he has a big salary, and as he wishes to keep it--"

"Don't listen," the second one said to me, "to that partisan of the alleged Republic of M. Thiers; he is only a monarchist, a disguised Orleanist--"

"Don't listen," the third one said to me, "to that partisan of the Republic of Tours; he is a gentleman who has come to England to get a loan for the benefit of the Government of Tours; so, as he expects to get a lot of money--"

Thus I am, if I reckon correctly, face to face with six governments--three monarchies and three republics.

LONDON, _December 6, 1870_.

I think that his Excellency, M. de Bernstoff, Prussian Amba.s.sador to England, takes pleasure in making fun of me. I never meet him but that he announces to me that Paris will capitulate the next day. The next day arrives and Paris does not capitulate. However, this evening his Excellency looked so perfectly sure of what he was saying that I think I can prepare to start for Paris.

PARIS, _February 20, 1871_.

I only left on the 10th of February. At last I am in Paris. I travelled slowly, by short stages. What a lot of burned villages! What a lot of sacked houses! What a lot of devastated forests, dug-up woods, and bridges and railroads destroyed! And these Europeans treat us as barbarians!

However, among all these ruins there is one the sight of which filled me with the keenest joy. The palace of Saint-Cloud was the summer palace of the Emperor Napoleon, and not a stone upon a stone remains. I contemplated curiously, eagerly, and for a long time the blackened ruins of this palace. Pieces of old Chinese vases were hidden in the heaps of rubbish among the wreck of marble and fragments of sh.e.l.l.

Where did those old Chinese vases come from? Perhaps from the summer palace of our Emperor, from that palace which was devastated, burned, and destroyed by those English and French soldiers who came to bring us civilization.

I was extremely well received by the English, who overwhelmed me with invitations and kindnesses; but none the less I hope that the palaces of Buckingham and Windsor will also have their turn.

PARIS, _February 25, 1871_.

I have written to M. Jules Favre to let him know that I have been waiting six months for the opportunity of presenting to him the compliments and apologies of the Emperor of China. M. Jules Favre answered me that he is obliged to start for Bordeaux. I shall have an audience in the beginning of March.

PARIS, _March 7, 1871_.

Another letter from M. Jules Favre. He is expected at Frankfort by M. de Bismarck. My audience is again put off.