honours of the French territory and assuring her safety during her sojourn among us. He acquitted himself of this delicate task with such success as immediately gained the confidence of the venerable Queen to such an extent that she desired her ambassador to write to the French Minister of Foreign Affairs that thenceforth she wished that no other functionary than M. Paoli should watch over her during her visits to France. Each year, therefore, she found him faithful to his charge, awaiting her arrival either at Cherbourg or Calais.

From this time, M. Paoli became the indispensable personage for all the sovereigns and princes who undertook to visit our country, and therefore indispensable to the Republican government, who found in M. Paoli a perfect intermediary between itself and them. During twenty-five years he successively escorted to our watering places and seashore resorts fifteen emperors or kings, half a dozen empresses and queens, and countless numbers of princes of the blood, grand dukes and other princely globe trotters. He was admitted to their confidences, understood their impressions. To most of them, who continually saw our ministers appear and disappear, and who each time they came received the homage of new personages, M. Paoli personified the Republic which, with whatever petty quarrels and changes of officials, was always calm and smiling to its guests in the drawing-room. France, indeed, profited by the precious friendship which M. Paoli won for himself. "He is a model functionary, he has made the Republic beloved by Kings," exclaimed M. Félix Faure one day in my presence. And I remember another striking reflection of the regretted President.

As he came out of the hotel of the Empress of Austria where he had been visiting at Cap Martin, some one asked him what had been the subject of his interview with the sovereign.

"The Empress, gentlemen, spoke of nothing except of M. Paoli, whose courtesy and tact she praised without reserve."

What tribute could have been more flattering, indeed, than the invitation which he received from Queen Victoria to be present at her jubilee, and to accept the hospitality of Buckingham Palace? And after her death the royal family begged him to be present at her obsequies, and during all the sad solemnities treated him as a faithful and devoted friend.

And finally, what finer recognition of the "Protector of Sovereigns" than the remark of the King of England—then the Prince of Wales—when in the railway station of Brussels he was fired upon by the young anarchist Sipido—"If Paoli had been here," he said, "the rascal would have been arrested before he could use his weapon."

In fact, M. Paoli was always able to shield his clients from painful surprises and dramatic dangers. His art was always to appear ignorant of the fact that there were anarchists in the world, while at the same time keeping them constantly under the strictest watch. I believe that he was popular even among them, and that their esteem for this just and good man was so great that they would not, for anything in the world, have caused him—annoyance!

It is a curious fact that he never carried a weapon. The King of Siam was greatly disconcerted when he learned that M. Paoli had been charged to protect him during his visit to France in 1896.

"But where are your pistols and your poniards?" he would ask him every few minutes.

M. Paoli appears to cherish no vanity on account of the august interest with which he has been honoured, and the important part which during twenty-five years he has performed with as much intelligence as precision. He is still the affable and simple man which he always was. He may be the most decorated functionary in France—he possesses forty-two foreign decorations—but these seem to make him neither prouder nor happier. His only joy is to live quietly in his retreat, among his memories. His very modest apartment is a museum such as has no equal, harbouring all the sovereigns of yesterday and of to-day. Alphonso XIII and his young wife are in company with the royal pair of Italy, the Emperor of Russia seems to be conversing with the Emperor of Austria, the Queen of Saxony receives the salutation of the King of the Bulgarians, while listening to the poems which the Queen of Roumania appears to be reciting to her. The aged King Christian is smiling upon his innumerable grandchildren, the Prince of Wales is talking with his son, the Shah of Persia gazes upon the Bey of Tunis; and dominating all these crowned heads, the good Queen Victoria smiling from her golden frame, looks happily around upon all her family. To these photographs, each with its precious autograph, are added most touching testimonials of affection and esteem, letters entirely written by sovereign hands, jewels of inestimable price, the gifts of august clients. M. Paoli is in fact the only Frenchman who can at one time wear a cravat pin given by the Emperor of Austria, a watch offered by the King of Greece, a chain presented by Queen Victoria, a cane from the King of Sweden, a cigarette holder from the Emperor of Russia, a match box from the King of England, and—I cease, for the list would be interminable.

As may easily be perceived, the "Guardian of Kings" has often been asked to write his memoirs. One cannot have been intimate with sovereigns for twenty-five years and not have a whole book—many volumes, indeed—of impressions and memories in the brain. But precisely because he has been the travelling companion of illustrious guests of the nation, he has believed himself bound to absolute silence and a perhaps excessive discretion.

Happily, arguments have at last prevailed over these exaggerated scruples. M. Paoli has come to perceive that by relating his personal recollections, he would be making a useful contribution to the history of our time, correcting many errors which have slipped voluntarily or involuntarily into accounts of certain contemporary sovereigns.

M. Paoli has therefore yielded to persuasion, and has committed to writing the story of his many journeys in the company of Kings, reviving his memories of former days. I have been happy in collaborating with this interesting and charming man, and I hope that our readers may enjoy as happy hours in reading these memories as I myself have enjoyed in hearing them related to me.

Rene Lara.

[Pg xviii]
[Pg xix]