The management of the theater was given to M. Despres.

All these actors arrived on the 19th of June, and found every arrangement made for their comfort,—tastefully furnished lodgings, carriages, servants, everything which could enable them to agreeably endure the ennui of a residence in a foreign land, and prove to them at the same time how highly his Majesty appreciated their talents; an appreciation which most of them richly merited, both on account of their excellent social qualities, and the nobility and refinement of their manners.

The debut of the French troupe at the theater of the Orangery took place on the 22d of June, in the 'Gageure Imprevue', and another piece, then much in vogue at Paris, and which has often since been witnessed with much pleasure, 'La Suite d'un Bal Masque'.

As the theater of the Orangery would have been too small for the representation of tragedy, that was reserved for the grand theater of the city; and persons were admitted on those occasions only by cards from the Count of Turenne, no admission fee being charged.

At the grand theater on the days of the French play, and also in the theater at the Marcolini palace, the footmen of his Majesty attended upon the boxes, and served refreshments while the piece was being played.

This is how the days were spent after the arrival of the actors of the French theater.

Everything was quiet until eight o'clock in the morning, unless a courier arrived, or some aide-de-camp was unexpectedly summoned. At eight o'clock I dressed the Emperor; at nine he held his levee, which all could attend who held as high a rank as colonel. The civil and military authorities of the country were also admitted; the Dukes of Weimar and d'Anhalt, the brothers and nephews of the King of Saxony, sometimes attended. Next came breakfast; then the parade in the meadows of Osterwise, about one hundred paces distant from the palace, to which the Emperor always went on horseback, and dismounted on arriving; the troops filed before him, and cheered him three times with their customary enthusiasm. The evolutions were commanded sometimes by the Emperor, sometimes by the Count of Lobau. As soon as the cavalry began to defile, his majesty re-entered the palace and began to work. Then began that perfect stillness of which I have spoken; and dinner was not served until late,—seven or eight o'clock. The Emperor often dined alone with the Prince de Neuchatel, unless there were guests from the royal family of Saxony. After dinner they attended the theater, when there was a play; and afterwards the Emperor returned to his cabinet to work again, either alone or with his secretaries.

Each day it was the same thing, unless, which was very rarely the case, fatigued beyond measure by the labors of the day, the Emperor took a fancy to send for Madame Georges after the tragedy. Then she passed two or three hours in his apartment, but never more.

Sometimes the Emperor invited Talma or Mademoiselle Mars to breakfast. One day, in a conversation with this admirable actress, the Emperor spoke to her concerning her debut. "Sire," said she, in that graceful manner which every one remembers, "I began very young. I slipped in without being perceived."—"Without being perceived!" replied his Majesty quickly; "you are mistaken. Be assured moreover, Mademoiselle, that I have always, in common with all France, highly appreciated your wonderful talents."

The Emperor's stay at Dresden brought wealth and abundance. More than six million francs of foreign money were spent in this city between the 8th of May and 16th of November, if one can believe the statements published on Saxon authority of the number of lodgings distributed. This sojourn was a harvest of gold, which keepers of boarding-houses, hotels, and merchants carefully reaped. Those in charge of military lodgings furnished by the inhabitants also made large profits. At Dresden could be seen Parisian tailors and bootmakers, teaching the natives to work in the French style. Even bootblacks were found on the bridges over the Elbe, crying, as they had cried on the bridges of the Seine, "Shine your boots!"