Maria Louisa, Archduchess of Austria.
Not far from there is the zoological collection, disposed in a circle around a pavilion forming the centre, as it were, of the various sheltered enclosures for the animals. Each species has its habitat and its garden, with the plants and trees proper to the country of its birth. There, though prisoners, the animals apparently enjoy their liberty.
Close to the castle there was a small railed-off plot, carefully tended, which was the garden of the son of Napoleon. It was there that the young prince cultivated the flowers which each morning he gathered into bouquets for his mother[45] and his governess.
While crossing the courts, which are very spacious, the prince pointed out the spot where, while Napoleon was inspecting some troops, a young fanatic attempted to kill him about the time of the battle of Wagram. If a crime of that nature is calculated to inspire anything but a feeling of indignation, that young fellow might have been pitied in virtue of the courage and fortitude he showed at the moment of his death.
It was in those courts that, at the same period, Napoleon gave orders to his ordnance-officer, the Prince de Salm, to put through its drill a regiment of the Germanic Confederation, and to give the command in German. The Viennese came down in shoals, this little amenity on the part of the victor having made them forget that their capital was in the hands of the enemy.
In the hall a French servant, still wearing the Napoleonic livery, came towards us. He knew the marshal, and immediately went to inform Mme. de Montesquiou of his arrival.
‘I trust we’ll not have to wait,’ said my companion, ‘for, as I have told you, I am almost like the Comte de Ségur of Schönbrunn.’ He alluded to the position of grand-master of the ceremonies that nobleman, whom he had known at the Court of Catherine, had occupied near the person of Napoleon.
A few moments later Mme. de Montesquiou came to apologise for being unable to introduce us immediately. ‘The little prince,’ she said, ‘is sitting for his portrait to Isabey, which is intended for the Empress Marie-Louise. As he is very fond of the marshal, the sight of him would only make him restless. I’ll see that the sitting is as short as possible.’
‘You know what happened at my first visit?’ remarked the prince, after Mme. de Montesquiou had left us. ‘When they told the child that Marshal Prince de Ligne had come to see him, he exclaimed: “Is it one of the marshals who deserted papa? Don’t let him come in.” They had a good deal of trouble in making him understand that France is not the only country where they have marshals.’
A short while afterwards Mme. de Montesquiou took us to the apartments. When young Napoleon caught sight of the Prince de Ligne he slid off his chair, and flung himself into the arms of the old soldier. He was indeed as handsome a child as one could wish to see, and the likeness to his ancestress Maria-Theresa was positively striking. The cherub-like shape of his face, the dazzling whiteness of the skin, the eyes full of fire, and the pretty fair curls drooping on his shoulders, made up one of the most graceful models ever offered to Isabey. He was dressed in a richly embroidered uniform of hussars, and wore on his dolman the star of the Legion of Honour, ‘Bon jour, monsieur,’ said the little lad, ‘I like the French very much.’