The winter of 1841 was also spent in raising our battalions of Chasseurs-a-pied, the personal work of my eldest brother.  I used often to go and keep him company in the camp at St. Omer, while he was employing all his great powers in organizing this force.  When it was done he gave a splendid fite, to which he invited the officers of the English garrisons on the opposite coast, deputing me to receive them.  A few days later the population of Paris was surprised and delighted by the sight of these ten splendid battalions, in their simple but elegant uniform, pressing through the streets with swinging step, filling the courtyard of the Tuileries, and forming up in the space of a few minutes to be inspected by the King.  These fine troops, with their strong esprit de corps, have since then earned glory by many exploits in all quarters of the globe.  The number of battalions has been raised from ten to thirty.  The organization, given them at the outset by a vigorous hand, has remained intact.  Their uniform even is unchanged, having escaped the prevalent mania for bringing everything down to the same level of ugliness.  The only thing gone is the original name, Chasseurs d’Orleans; but what matters the name when the service remains!

My memories of the winter of 1841 are full of recollections concerning our national defence.  Mingled with them, however, are some others of a less austere nature Masked balls were the rage that year.  They were given in all directions.  I was only three-and-twenty, and thought them all delightful Just at that moment Chicard—­the famous Chicard—­shared the sceptre of the opera-balls with Musard, the chief of the orchestra.  A quiet-living worthy tradesman on weekdays, on important occasions an officer in the National Guard, Monsieur L “le grand Chicard,” dressed in the most eccentric of costumes, led indescribable farandoles to the sound of broken chairs and pistol shots, accompanied by Musard’s orchestra, at these entertainments.  There were balls in the Opera House, at the Renaissance, the Salle Ventadour, the Varietes—­these last the prettiest and the most fashionable and amusing.  Not an evening coat in the whole ball-room, everybody, men and women alike, in costume, and everybody acquainted with everybody else.  And what gaiety and go there was about it all’ You asked your partner in the upper-boxes to dance with you, from the floor of the house, and she, to lose no time, came down outside the balustrades, faithfully passed down by friendly hands.  When the quadrille was over you met jolly comrades everywhere, with their partners astride on their shoulders, shaking hands as it were two stories at a time.  But there is an end to all things.  My two brothers—­ Nemours and Aumale—­went off to fight in Africa under General Bugeaud; and, in the month of May, I myself was sent out to the Newfoundland station.

CHAPTER VIII

1841-1842