I repeat I never saw Paris so beautiful. That day, all joys were united, sunshine, a Sunday, and a victory. Afterwards, when Paris heard of the decisive battle of Solferino, there was not the same enthusiasm, even though it brought the immediate conclusion of the war. On the day when the troops made their entry, the demonstration was more solemn, but it lacked that spontaneous popular joy. We got a two days’ holiday from Magenta. We grew even more eager about the war, and were among those who thought that peace had been made too hastily. The school year was drawing to its end. The holidays were coming, bringing the feverish excitement of liberty; and Italy, the army, and the victories, all disappeared in the general setting free of the prize distribution. I remember that I was to go and spend my holidays in the South that year. When I was just about to start, in the beginning of August, Julien begged me to stay till the 14th, the date fixed for the triumphal entry of the troops. He was full of joy. Louis was coming back with the rank of sergeant, and he wished me to be present at his brother’s triumph. I promised to stay. Great preparations were made for the reception of the army which had for some days been encamped in the immediate neighbourhood of Paris. It was to enter by the Place de la Bastille, to follow the line of the Boulevards, to go down the Rue de la Paix, and cross the Place Vendôme. The Boulevards were decorated with flags. On the Place Vendôme, immense stands had been erected for the members of the Government and their guests. The weather was splendid. When the troops came into sight along the Boulevards, vast applause burst forth. The crowd thronged on both sides of the pavement. Heads rose above heads at the windows. Women waved their handkerchiefs and threw down the flowers from their dresses to the soldiers. All the while, the soldiers kept on passing with their regular step, in the midst of frantic hurrahs. The bands played; the colours fluttered in the sun. Several, which had been pierced by balls, received applause, and one in particular, which was in rags, and crowned. At the corner of the Rue du Temple an old woman flung herself headlong into the ranks and embraced a corporal, her son, no doubt. They came near to carrying that happy mother in triumph.