Friday, 5 July 1878

With Madame Gavini to the solemn requiem Mass for the repose of the soul of that poor young Queen of Spain.
To love and be loved by one's husband, to be eighteen, to be Queen of Spain — and to die! I shall let the Figaro speak of the ceremony, which struck me as cold and left me unmoved.
Yesterday at eleven o'clock, a solemn service was celebrated at the church of the Madeleine for the repose of H.M. the Queen of Spain. The funeral ceremony was organised by the Spanish colony residing in Paris, on the initiative of a commission composed of:
MM. the comte de Fernandina, the duc de Fernan Nuñez, both Grandees of Spain; Palan, senator; Mora, deputy; Biadra and Abaroa.
The church was entirely hung with black draperies with silver borders, upon which the royal escutcheons alternated with palms.
Beneath a canopy supported by four columns had been erected a great white catafalque, disappearing beneath a mass of wreaths and natural flowers; furthermore, rose petals had been scattered in profusion around the funerary monument, upon which the royal crown in pearls and diamonds had been placed.
At precisely eleven o'clock, King Don Francisco de Asís, in the uniform of a Spanish captain-general followed by his household, entered the church by the great door between a guard of honour formed by some thirty Spanish soldiers. The king took his place with his suite in a gallery to the right of the high altar. Shortly after, a fanfare of trumpets was heard and Queen Isabella, visibly moved, arrived with two ladies-in-waiting and went to kneel in a gallery opposite the king's.
The nave was already filled by a numerous assembly, among whom we may cite the duchesse de Magenta, the marquis d'Abzac representing the Maréchal:
The duc de Nemours, the comte and comtesse d'Eu, the princess Mathilde, the duchesse de Saxe-Coburg, the duc and duchesse d'Alençon, the prince de Monaco:
The nuncio and all the ambassadors and heads of mission.
All the French ministers, the government of Paris, the Grand Chancellor of the Légion d'honneur, Maréchal Canrobert, the president of the Conseil d'État.
The Cardinal-Archbishop of Paris in full mourning, which he wears only for reigning princes:
The duc de Noailles, the duc d'Ossuna, the duc Decazes, all the members of the Rothschild family; Général Fleury, Général Chabaud-Latour; and finally the entire Spanish colony and the embassy in full dress uniform. The Mass was said by the abbé Lerebour, curé of the Madeleine, and the absolution was given by H.E. the apostolic nuncio.
The ceremony, during which the choir performed very beautiful religious pieces, lasted an hour and a half.
I keep the invitation cards. Then the Bois, where I now encounter a few familiar faces, thanks to the Gavinis.
On our way back we stop by Multedo's to tell him to come this evening to the Orangerie to hear the Gypsy women. While we were speaking to him, my little aunt had entirely hidden herself under a parasol and turned her back so as to be even less visible. It was a charming scene, which inspires the letter you are about to read, addressed to Multedo.
Monsieur,
Since you persist in feigning ignorance, I will tell you why I have never wished to show you my face. Know, Monsieur, that I am not one of those who receive without flinching letters such as you dared write me every week. Those letters and your gifts of bonbons revolted me to the highest degree. I was obliged to conceal these persecutions from my family, with whom I was staying, and from my husband, who would have killed you. I turned it all into jokes. I should never have done a man like you the honour of writing; this letter is dictated to my lady's maid.
An outraged woman.
This will be the crowning touch of this hoax about my little aunt.