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Updated: May 18, 2025
As was I grumbling one day to Victor Hugo that I never could have a chance of talking with him, he invited me to lunch, saying that after lunch we could talk together alone. I was delighted with this lunch, to which Paul Meurice, the poet Leon Cladel, the Communard Dupuis, a Russian lady whose name I do not remember and Gustave Dore were also invited.
Isidore, who had been a soldier, had some pistols by him, and had lent three to Pierre Dupont for the conflict. Suddenly these ladies turned their heads and saw me close to them. My daughter screamed. "Oh, go away," cried my wife, throwing her arms round my neck, "you are lost if you remain here a moment. You will be arrested here!" Madame Paul Meurice added, "They are looking for you.
If only for one night, I have said to myself, I must stay in this of all hotels. I 'ave what do you say? touched the spot. 'In what you say, he has said, more calmly, 'there is certainly something. It is a good hotel, this of mine! The only hotel, I have assured him. The Meurice? Chut! I snap my fingers. The Ritz? Bah! Once again I snap my fingers. 'In all Paris there is no hotel like this.
The President of the United States, Andrew Johnson, received a letter professing to be written from the Hotel Meurice, Paris, dated October 23, 1866, and signed "George W. M'Crackin, of New York." This letter was filled with accusations directed against various public agents, ministers, and consuls, representing the United States in different countries.
As I pressed nearer, to discover the cause of the mirth, which every moment seemed to augment, guess my surprise to perceive among the foremost rank of the players, my acquaintance, Mr. O'Leary, whom I at that moment believed to be solacing himself with his meershaum at Meurice. My astonishment at how he obtained admission to the Salon was even less than my fear of his recognising me.
At last he discovered it; and he lost no time in presenting himself at the Hotel Meurice. He was now awaiting the result of his application at the entrance of the hotel, where he stood whistling, with his hands in his pockets, when the servant returned, saying: "She consents to see you; follow me."
We were boarded, in the fust place, by custom-house officers in cock-hats, who seased our luggitch, and called for our passpots: then a crowd of inn-waiters came, tumbling and screaming on deck "Dis way, sare," cries one; "Hotel Meurice," says another; "Hotel de Bang," screeches another chap the tower of Babyle was nothink to it.
While we walked together towards Meurice, I explained to Trevanion the position in which I stood; and having detailed, at full length, the fracas at the Salon, and the imprisonment of O'Leary, entreated his assistance in behalf of him, as well as to free me from some of my many embarrassments.
I am not sure whether as a general thing they honoured me at such instants with a sign of recognition; but I recover in especial the sense of an evening hour during which I had accompanied my mother to the Hôtel Meurice, where one of the New York cousins aforementioned, daughter of one of the Albany uncles that is of the Rhinebeck member of the group had perched for a time, so incongruously, one already seemed to feel, after the sorriest stroke of fate.
Meurice, is it not?" "Hotel Meurice," said Sophia. "Yes." He spoke to the head-waiter about the bill, which was carried away like something obscene; and on his arm, which he punctiliously offered and she could not refuse, Sophia left the scene of her ignominy. She was so distraught that she could not manage her crinoline in the doorway. No sign anywhere outside of Gerald or his foe!
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