The castle of the Kings of Bohemia—First interview with Charles X.—Monsieur le Dauphin—The Children of France—The Duc and Duchesse de Guiche—The triumvirate—Mademoiselle—Conversation with the King—Dinner and evening at Hradschin—Visits—General Skrzynecki—Dinner at Count Chotek's—Whit Sunday—The Duc de Blacas—Casual observations—Tycho Brahe—Perdita: more casual observations—Bohemia—Slav and neo-Latin literature—I take leave of the King—Adieus—The children's letters to their mother—A Jew—The Saxon servant-girl—What I am leaving in Prague—The Duc de Bordeaux—Madame la Dauphine—Casual observations—Springs—Mineral waters—Historical memories—The Teplitz Valley—Its flora—Last conversation with the Dauphiness—My departure.

I entered Prague on the 24th of May, at seven o'clock in the evening, and alighted at the Bath Hotel, in the old town built on the left bank of the Moldau. I wrote a note to M. le Duc de Blacas to inform him of my arrival and received the following reply:

"If you are not too tired, monsieur le vicomte, the King will be charmed to receive you this evening, at a quarter to ten; but, if you wish to rest, His Majesty would see you with great pleasure to-morrow morning, at half-past eleven.

"Pray accept my sincere compliments.

"Friday 24 May seven o'clock.

"Blacas d'Aulps."

I did not feel that I ought to avail myself of the alternative offered to me: I set out at half-past nine; a man belonging to the inn, who knew a few words of French, led the way for me. I climbed up silent, gloomy streets, without street-lamps, to the foot of the tall hill which is crowned by the immense castle of the Kings of Bohemia. The building outlined its black mass against the sky; no light issued from its windows: there was there something akin to the solitude, the site and the grandeur of the Vatican, or of the Temple of Jerusalem, seen from the Valley of Jehoshaphat. One heard nothing but the sound of my footsteps and my guide's. I was obliged to stop at intervals on the landings of the steps that formed the roadway, so steep was the incline.

As I climbed, I discovered the town below me. The links of history, the fate of men, the destruction of empires, the designs of Providence presented themselves to my recollection, identified themselves with the memory of my own destiny: after exploring dead ruins, I was summoned to the spectacle of living ruins.

When we had reached the platform on which Hradschin[557] is built, we passed through an infantry post whose guard-room was near the outer wicket-gate. Through this wicket-gate we entered a square court-yard, surrounded by uniform and deserted buildings. On the ground-floor, on the right, we threaded a long corridor lighted at wide intervals by glass lanterns hung on the wall on either side, as in a convent or barracks. At the end of this corridor was a stair-case, at whose foot two sentries marched up and down.

As I was climbing the second flight, I met M. de Blacas, who was coming down. I entered the apartments of Charles X. with him; there two more grenadiers were standing sentry. This foreign guard, those white uniforms at the door of the King of France made a painful impression on me: the idea of a prison came to me, rather than a palace.

We passed through three pitch-dark and almost unfurnished rooms: I felt as though I were wandering once more through the terrible monastery of the Escorial. M. de Blacas left me in the third room to inform the King, with the same etiquette as at the Tuileries. He came back to fetch me, showed me into His Majesty's closet and withdrew.

Charles X. came up to me, held out his hand to me cordially and said:

"Good-evening, good-evening, Monsieur de Chateaubriand: I am delighted to see you. I expected you. You ought not to have come this evening, for you must be very tired. Don't stand; let us sit down. How is your wife?"