Both M. Grevy and Marshal MacMahon held their Cabinet meetings in that salle of the Elysee which is hung round with the portraits of sovereigns. Opposite to M. Grevy’s chair hung a portrait of Queen Victoria; and it was remarked that he always gazed at her while his ministers discoursed around him. But his happiness, poor man! was in his private apartments, where his daughter, her husband, M. Wilson, and his little grandchild made part of his household.
M. Greevy gave handsome dinners at the Elysee, and Madame Grevy and Madame Wilson gave receptions, and occasionally handsome balls. Everything was done “decently and in order,” much like an American president’s housekeeping, but without show or brilliancy.
Having indulged in this gossip about the courts of the presidents (for much of which I am indebted to a writer in “Temple Bar"), we will turn to graver history.
When M. Grevy 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. Defavre became chief of the Cabinet, and M. Waddington Minister for Foreign Affairs. But Gambetta, whether in or out of office, was the leader of his party, and a sense of the responsibilities of leadership made him far more cautious and less fiery than he had been in former days. Yet even then he had said emphatically: “No republic can last long in France that is not based on law, order, and respect for property.”
In August, 1880, however, eighteen months after M. Grevy’s elevation to the presidency, Gambetta became prime minister. He flattered himself that he might do great things for France, for he believed that he could count on the support of every true Republican. He was mistaken. Three months after he accepted office, the Radicals and the Conservatives combined for his overthrow. He was defeated in the Chamber on a question of the scrutin de liste, and resigned.