The Happy Days of the Empress Marie Louise

by Imbert de Saint-Amand

Thiers thus comments in a page of real eloquence on this imposing spectacle: "What a solemn mystery surrounds human life! What a painful surprise it would have been, if beyond this scene of power and greatness, one could have seen the ruin, the blood, the flames of Moscow, the ice of the Beresina and Leipsic, Fontainebleau, Elba, Saint Helena, and finally the death of this prince at the age of twenty, in exile, without one of the crowns he wore that day upon his head, and the many revolutions once more to raise his family after overthrowing it! What a blessing that the future is hidden from man! But what a stumbling-block for his prudence, charged to conjecture the morrow and to guard against it with all one's wisdom."

When the governess had again taken the Prince, she courtesied to the Emperor, and the King of Rome, with his retinue, left the church, to be taken to the Archbishop's, whence he returned to the Tuileries. Then the Grand Almoner intoned the Te Deum, which, was performed by the choir, and followed by the Domine, fac salvum imperatorem. The Emperor and the Empress were conducted with the same ceremonies as at their entrance, to the church door, where they got into their carriage amid the cheers of the crowd, and drove to the entertainment at the Hôtel de Ville.

"The people of Paris admitted to this festivity," says Thiers, "were able to see Napoleon at table, his crown on his head, surrounded by the kings of his family and a number of foreign princes, eating in public, like the old Germanic Emperors, the successors of the Emperors of the West. The Parisians applauded in their delight at this brilliant spectacle, imagining that durability was united with grandeur and with glory! They did well to rejoice, for these joys were the last of the reign. Henceforth our story is but one long lamentation."

Napoleon and Marie Louise reached the Hôtel de Ville at eight in the evening. The Prefect of the Seine, after welcoming them with an address, led them to the rooms prepared for them, and the Emperor received four sets of presentations. The Grand Marshal of the Palace announced that dinner was ready. The Imperial banquet was thus arranged: in the middle of the table, the Emperor; on his left, the Empress, the Queen of Holland, Princess Borghese, the Grand Duke of Würzburg, the Grand Duke of Frankfort; on his right, his mother, the King of Spain, the King of Westphalia, Prince Borghese, the Viceroy of Italy. The table was on a dais. A canopy overhung the chairs of the Emperor and Empress. The ladies of the Palace and the Imperial retinue sat below the platform, opposite the table, The officers of the Emperor's household waited on the table. The hall was decorated with the coats-of-arms of the forty-nine chosen cities, Paris, Rome, and Amsterdam being the first; the rest were in alphabetical order. After the dinner, the sovereigns went into the record-room, where a concert was given, in which was sung a cantata, called "Ossian's Song," with words by Arnault, and music by Méhul. Then, after talking to a number of people in the throne-room, Napoleon and Louise went into the garden which had been constructed about the courtyard of the Hôtel de Ville, where the Tiber was represented by abundant streams of cool water. They left at eleven, and thereupon was opened a ball which lasted till daybreak. In the morning poor young girls, with dowries given by the city, had been married to soldiers in every arrondissement. The whole city was alive with enthusiasm. Food had been given away on the Champs Élysées, there had been sports in the square of Marigny, tournaments, greased poles, public balls, balloon ascension, fireworks, a general illumination, and everything of the sort for the amusement of the populace.

On the 9th of June there were grand festivities in the large towns of the Empire, in honor of the baptism of the King of Rome. At Antwerp all the arts and trades contributed to making six chariots, which made an imposing procession. The first represented France crowned by Immortality; the second, the marriage of the Emperor and Empress; the third, the birth of the King of Rome; the fourth, his cradle; the fifth, Religion, Innocence, and Charity praying Heaven for a long life to the sovereigns and their son; the sixth, France representing the young Prince as King to the city of Rome. This procession of chariots was preceded by the giant, the whale, the frigate, the car of Neptune, that of Europe, and other figures called in their language den grooten hommegang.

At Rome, the city of the Prince, festivities began in the night of June 8, being announced by guns of the fleet of Civita Vecchia, which had sailed up the Tiber, all beautifully decorated. The Capitol, the Forum, the Coliseum, the arches of Septimius and Constantine, the temples of Concord, of Peace, of Antoninus, and Fausta, the Column of Jupiter Stator, were all brilliantly illuminated. In the morning of the 9th all the authorities went to Saint Peter's to hear the Te Deum sung before an immense multitude. In the course of the day there was a horse-race, and in the evening the dome of Saint Peter's and the Colonnade were illuminated, and there were fireworks at the Castle of Saint Angelo. The Rome of the Cæsars and the Popes, the Eternal City, celebrated the baptismal day of its young King with great splendor.

XXII.

SAINT CLOUD AND TRIANON.

The Emperor had determined that there could not be too much rejoicing at his son's baptism; consequently he gave an entertainment himself, June 23,1811, in the palace and park of Saint Cloud. The palace, with its magnificent halls, its drawing-rooms of Mars, Venus, Truth, Mercury, and Aurora, its Gallery of Apollo, and Room of Diana, adorned with Mignard's frescoes; the park, with its fine trees, its wonderful stretches, its greensward, and abundant flowers; the two grand views from the upper windows, one towards Paris, the other towards the garden; the waterfalls, set in a tasteful frame, and rushing down step by step, breaking into a white foam, sparkling in the sunlight or with the reflection of a thousand torches, formed a marvellous setting for a festival both by night and by day. More than three hundred thousand persons went to Saint Cloud; they began to arrive in the morning, and filled every avenue, covered every bit of rising ground. Food was publicly distributed; the fountains ran wine. Games and sports of all kinds were played, and the Imperial Guard gave an open-air banquet to the garrison of Paris.

At six in the evening Napoleon and Marie Louise drove in an open barouche through the park, without guard or escort, to the great delight of the applauding multitude. The orange house, which had been stripped of its contents for the decoration of the front of the palace, was adorned with stuffs of fine colors. Temples and kiosks had been set up in the shrubbery. At nightfall six illuminated launches, manned by sailors of the Imperial Guard, performed various evolutions and discharged fireworks, which made a brilliant show upon the river. Meanwhile the illuminations began throughout the park, along the terraces, and the amphitheatre, and in the palace. It was a most fairy-like sight; the large cascade with its half-lying statues of the Seine and the Loire; the lower cascade beneath; the fountain rising twenty-seven metres; the large square basin with the ten little shell-shaped basins and the nine fountains spurting from gilded masques; the green lawns, the flower-beds, the shrubbery,—all lit up by the blazing fireworks. At nine o'clock Madame Blanchard went up in a balloon, discharging fireworks from the car, which formed a starlike crown set at a great height; she seemed like a magician in a fiery chariot. Fireworks were then set off by the artillery of the Imperial Guard from the middle of the Plain of Boulogne; they were visible from Paris as from Saint Cloud, and from all the hills bordering the Seine from Calvaire to Meudon. Next to the row of columns opened the illuminated garden, with waterfalls, trees, and porticoes, forming a most brilliant spectacle. The Emperor and Empress walked through the park, and Marie Louise was continually reminded of her beloved Austria, of Schoenbrunn, of the Burg, of Laxenburg, by the wonderful panorama. There were many bands stationed among the trees, playing waltzes, and dancers from the opera, dressed as German shepherds and shepherdesses, were dancing. An interlude, "The Village Festival," words by Étienne, set to music by Nicolo, was given in the open air, on the grass. When the Empress came to a column supporting a basket of flowers, a dove alit at her feet and offered her an ingenious motto.