We had quite an excitement one day at the chateau.  Francis was riding with the groom one morning about the end of August, and had hardly got out of the gates, when he came racing back to tell us that the manoeuvres were to take place very near us, small detachments of troops already arriving; and the village people had told him that quite a large contingent, men and horses, were to be quartered at the chateau.  W. sent him straight off again to the mayor of Marolles—­our big village—­to know if his information was correct, and how many people we must provide for.  Francis met the mayor on the road on his way to us, very busy and bustled with so many people to settle.  He was billeting men and horses in the little hamlet, and at all the farms.  He told us we were to have thirty men and horses—­six officers, twenty-four men; and they would arrive at sundown, in time to cook their dinner.  Hubert, the coachman, was quite bewildered at first how to provide for so many, but fortunately the stables and dependencies were very large, and it was quite extraordinary how quickly and comfortably everything was arranged.  Men from the farm brought in large bundles of straw, and everybody lent a willing hand—­they love soldiers in France, and are always proud and happy to receive them.

About 4.30, when we had just moved out to the tennis ground for tea, we saw an officer with his orderly riding up the avenue.  He dismounted as soon as he caught sight of us sitting on the lawn, and introduced himself, said he was sent on ahead to see about lodging for himself, his brother-officers, and his men.  They were part of a cavalry regiment, chasseurs, stationed at a small town in the neighbourhood.  He asked W. if he might see the soldiers’ quarters, said they brought their own food and would cook their dinner; asked if there was a room in the chateau where the sous-officiers could dine, as they never eat with their men.  He, with W. and Francis, went off to inspect the arrangements and give the necessary orders.  We had already seen to the officers’ rooms, but hadn’t thought of a separate dining-room for the sous-officiers; however, it was easily managed.  We gave them the children’s dining-room, in the wing near the kitchen and offices.

When W. came in he told us the whole party had arrived, and we started off to the communs to see what was going on.  The stable-yard, which is very large, with some fine trees and outbuildings all around it, was filled with blue-coated soldiers and small chestnut horses—­some were drinking out of the troughs; some, tied to the trees, and rings on the wall, were being rubbed down—­the men walking about with the officers’ valises and their own kits, undoing blankets, tin plates, and cups; and I should think every man and boy on our place and in the small hamlet standing about anxious to do something.  Our little fox-terriers were mad with excitement; even the donkey seemed to feel there was something different in the air.  He brayed noisily, and gave little vicious kicks occasionally when some of the horses passed too near.  A group of officers was standing at the door of the stables talking to Hubert, who had managed very well, putting all the officers’ horses into a second stable, which was always kept for guests, and the others in the various sheds and outhouses, all under cover.