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Updated: May 14, 2025
He was also sorry that Dufaure would not remain, but he was an old man, had had enough of political life and party struggles left the field to younger men. The marshal's letter was communicated at once to the Parliament, and the houses met in the afternoon. There was not much excitement, two or three names were pronounced, but every one felt sure that Grevy would be the man.
We went to see a first function at the Elysee some time in February, two Cardinals were to be named and Grevy was to deliver the birettas. Mollard asked to see me one morning, telling me that the two ablegates with their suite had arrived, and wished to pay their respects to me. One of them was Monsignor Cataldi, whom we had known well in Rome when we were living there.
He towered far above the president of the republic Jules Grevy, that hard-headed, close-fisted old peasant and his star had reached its zenith. All this time he and Leonie Leon maintained their intimacy, though it was carefully concealed save from a very few. She lived in a plain but pretty house on the Avenue Perrichont in the quiet quarter of Auteuil; but Gambetta never came there.
As soon as it was daylight we had assembled in the house of our imprisoned colleague, M. Grévy. We had been installed in his private room. Michel de Bourges and myself were seated near the fireplace; Jules Favre and Carnot were writing, the one at a table near the window, the other at a high desk. The Left had invested us with discretionary powers.
No one ever converts any one else. I have always heard it said that the best political speech never changed a vote. The first person who entertained Grevy was Prince Hohenlohe, the German ambassador. They had a brilliant reception, rooms crowded, all the official world and a fair contingent from the Faubourg St. Germain.
Three mornings in the week his old intimate associates, artists, journalists, deputies, etc., entered the presidential palace unannounced, and went straight to an apartment fitted up for fencing. There, taking masks and foils, they amused themselves, till presently M. Grévy would come in, make the tour of the room, speak a few words to each, and invite one or two of them to breakfast with him.
On Count Martin's yellowed face two or three wrinkles appeared. He was smiling. "The decree," continued Loyer, "will be published tomorrow. I accompanied myself the clerk who took it to the printer. It was surer. In Grevy's time, and Grevy was not an idiot, decrees were intercepted in the journey from the Elysee to the Quai Voltaire." And Loyer threw himself on a chair.
Then from all sides information began to pour in from people who had paid money to M. Wilson to procure them ministerial or presidential favors, and such disclosures could not but reflect on M. Grévy. Instantly his enemies seized their opportunity.
Everything was done "decently and in order," much like an American president's housekeeping, but without show or brilliancy. When M. Grévy became president, Gambetta succeeded to his place as president of the Chamber. He did not desire the post of prime minister. His new position made him the second man in France, and seemed to point him out as the future candidate for the presidency.
M. Fabre is the author of a play and several volumes devoted to Joan of Arc. He presented me to the President and to Mme. Jules Grévy. I was also introduced to M. Jules Ferry, then Prime Minister, who said, among other things: "I am sorry to confess it, but it is only too true, our French women are far behind their sisters in America."
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