Having been educated in a German court and learned French only with masters, Marie-Louise spoke that language with the difficulty one usually finds in expressing one's self in a foreign tongue. Among the vicious locutions she sometimes employed, and which in her gracious mouth were not devoid of charm, there was one that particularly struck me, because she often used it: "Napoleon, qu'est-ce que veux-tu?" (Instead ofqutest-ceque tu veux?)

The Emperor displayed the greatest affection for his young wife, and yet he subjected her to all the rules of etiquette, to which the Empress adapted herself with the best possible grace. In the month of May, 1811, Their Majesties made a journey to the departments of Calvados and La Manche, and were received with enthusiasm by all the cities. The Emperor marked his sojourn at Caen by gifts, favors, and benevolent actions. Several young men belonging to good families obtained sub-lieutenancies; one hundred and thirty thousand francs were devoted to different charities. From Caen, Their Majesties went to Cherbourg. On the day after their arrival, the Emperor went out on horseback early in the morning, visited the heights of the city, went aboard of several vessels, and was everywhere surrounded by a crowd who thronged about him crying: Long live the Emperor! The next day His Majesty held several councils, and in the evening visited all the naval establishments, even going to the bottom of the dock hollowed out of the live rock to receive the ships of the line, and which was to be covered with fifty-five feet of water. In this brilliant journey the Empress had her share in the enthusiasm of the inhabitants, and in return she gave a cordial reception to the regional authorities in the different receptions which took place. I intentionally lay stress on these details; they prove that the joy occasioned by the birth of the King of Rome was not confined to Paris, but that, on the contrary, the provinces sympathized marvellously with the capital.

The return to Paris of Their Majesties renewed the rejoicings and festivities. The ceremony of the baptism of the King of Rome, and the fêtes by which it was accompanied, were celebrated in Paris with a pomp worthy of their object. For spectators they had the entire population of Paris, augmented by a prodigious throng of foreigners of all classes.

At four o'clock the Senate started from its palace, the Council of State from the Tuileries, the Legislative Body from its palace, the Court of Cassation, the court of accounts, the council of the university, the imperial court from their usual place of session, the municipal body of Paris and the deputations from the forty-nine good cities from the Hôtel-de Ville. On their arrival at the Metropolitan Church, these bodies were placed according to their rank by the masters and assistants of ceremonies, to the right and left of the throne, from the choir to the middle of the nave. The diplomatic corps entered the tribune intended for it at five o'clock.

At half-past five o'clock cannon announced the departure of Their Majesties from the palace of the Tuileries. The imperial cortège was of dazzling magnificence; the superb uniform of the troops, the richness and elegance of the carriages, the brilliancy of the costumes, afforded a ravishing spectacle. Those acclamations of the people which resounded along the passage of Their Majesties, those houses tapestried with festoons and draperies, those flags floating from the windows, that long file of carriages whose horses and ornamentation successively augmented in magnificence and followed each other as if in hierarchical order, that immense apparatus of a fête animated by a real sentiment and ideas of the future,— all that is profoundly graven in my memory, and often occupies even yet the long leisure hours of the old servant of a family which has disappeared. The ceremony of the baptism was carried out with unaccustomed pomp and solemnity. After the baptism, the Emperor took his august son in his arms and showed him to the spectators. Acclamations which, until then, had been restrained by the sanctity of the ceremony and the majesty of the place, at once broke out from every side. When the prayers were ended, Their Majesties repaired to the Hôtel-de-Ville at eight o'clock in the evening, and were received there by the municipal body. A brilliant concert and a banquet had been offered to them by the city of Paris. The decoration of the banquet hall displayed the arms of the forty-nine good cities, Paris, Rome, and Amsterdam coming first; the forty-six others by alphabetic order. The banquet over, Their Majesties went to take their places in the concert hall. After the concert they repaired to the throne room, where all the invited guests formed a circle. The Emperor went around it, speaking affably and sometimes even familiarly to the majority of the persons composing it, not one of whom failed to remember the benevolent words addressed to him. Finally, before they retired, Their Majesties were invited to enter the artificial garden which had been formed over the court of the Hôtel-de-Ville. The decoration of it was very elegant; at the back of the garden the Tiber was represented by abundant streams, the course of which was most artfully arranged, and diffused a pleasant coolness. Their Majesties left the Hôtel-de-Ville at half-past eleven, and re-entered the Tuileries by the light of the most elegant illuminations and luminous emblems in the most delicate taste. The serenest weather and the mildest temperature had favored this delightful day.

The aëronaut Garnerin, who started from Paris at half-past six in the evening, descended next morning at Maule, department of Seine-et-Oise. After having rested there, he got into his balloon again and continued on his way.

The provinces vied in magnificence with the capital in celebrating the fêtes of the birth and baptism of the King of Rome. All that could be imagined of most curious design, whether in emblems or illuminations, had been executed in order to impart greater pomp to these festivities. Each city had been guided, as to its manner of rendering homage to the new king, either by its geographical situation or its special destination. Thus at Clermont-Ferrand an immense fire had been kindled at six o'clock in the evening on the summit of Puy-de-Dôme, at a height of more than five thousand feet. Several departments could enjoy all night this singular and majestic spectacle. In the harbor of Flushing, the vessels were covered with streamers and flags of all colors. In the evening the entire squadron was illuminated, thousands of lanterns, suspended from the masts, yards, and shrouds, afforded an enchanting sight. All of a sudden, at the signal of a fusee fired from the admiral's ship, all the vessels simultaneously vomited forth sheaves of flame which outlined on an inky sky those imposing masses, repeated by a sea as smooth as glass.

We did nothing but pass from one fête to another: it was bewildering. The rejoicings of the baptism were in fact followed by a fête given by the Emperor in the private park of Saint-Cloud. From the morning, the road from Paris was covered with equipages and pedestrians. The fête took place in the closed park. The orangery, all of whose tubs decorated the front of the château, was ornamented with rich hangings. Temples and kiosks rose amidst the thickets. The entire length of the avenue of chestnut trees was decked with garlands of colored lamps. Fountains of orgeat and currant shrub had been so distributed that every person present could refresh himself. Elegantly served tables were laid in the alley. The whole park was illuminated by fire pots concealed in the shrubbery of the thickets.

Madame Blanchard had been ordered to hold herself in readiness to start at half-past nine o'clock at a given signal. At nine, the balloon being filled, she got into her car. She was taken to the extremity of the swan pond, opposite the château; just at the moment of departure she was maintained in this position, and at a height which considerably surpassed that of the tallest trees, so that for more than half an hour she could be seen by all the spectators present at the fête. At thirty-five minutes past nine, a fusee, set off from the château, having given the expected signal, the intrepid aëronaut was seen to rise majestically into the air before the assembly gathered in the throne room. On reaching a certain height, she set fire to a star in fireworks of immense size, hung around the car of which she occupied the centre. This star, which during seven or eight minutes launched from its points and angles a great quantity of other little stars, produced the most extraordinary effect. This was the first time that a woman had ever been seen to rise boldly into the air, surrounded by fireworks: she seemed to be riding on a chariot of fire at an immense height. I thought myself in a fairy palace. All that part of the gardens which Their Majesties passed through presented a spectacle of which it is impossible to form an idea. The illuminations were designed with perfect taste, the games afforded a great variety, and numerous orchestras hidden among the trees added still more to the enchantment. At a given signal, three pigeons flew from the top of a column surmounted by a vase of flowers and came to offer Their Majesties several very ingenious devices. Further away, German peasants were waltzing on a charming greensward, and crowning the bust of Her Imperial Majesty with flowers. The nymphs and shepherds of the opera were executing dances. Finally, a stage had been erected amongst the trees, in order to represent the Village Fête, a divertisement composed by M. Étienne and set to music by Nicolo. The Emperor and Empress were watching this spectacle from underneath a canopy, when there suddenly came an abundant shower which fluttered all the spectators. Their Majesties, being sheltered by the canopy, did not at first perceive the rain. The Emperor was talking at the time with the Mayor of Lyons. The latter was complaining of the small demand for the stuffs of that city. Napoleon, noticing that a heavy shower was falling, said to this functionary: "I warrant you that there will be plenty of orders tomorrow."

The Emperor kept his place during a great part of the storm. The courtiers, dressed in silks and velvets, and with uncovered heads, received the rain with a laughing air. The poor musicians, drenched to the bone, could no longer draw a sound from their instruments, which had either been broken or had their strings relaxed by the rain; it was time to put an end to this. The Emperor gave the signal for departure and withdrew.

On that day, Prince Aldobrandini, who accompanied the Empress in the capacity of first equerry, was so lucky as to "borrow" an umbrella to shelter Marie-Louise. There was great dissatisfaction in the group from which this loan was made, because the umbrella was not returned. On that evening, Prince Borghese and the Princess Pauline narrowly escaped falling into the Seine with their carriage as they were returning to their country seat of Neuilly. Those who delight in drawing omens, and especially those who, in very small numbers, beheld with vexed eyes the joys of the Empire, did not fail to remark that all the fêtes given to Marie-Louise had invariably been disturbed by some accident. They talked affectedly of the ball given by Prince de Schwarzenberg at the time of the espousals of Their Majesties, of the fire that had consumed the dancing hall, and of the tragic death of several persons, notably that of the Prince's sister. They drew evil auguries from this coincidence; some through malevolence, and to sap the enthusiasm inspired by Napoleon's lofty fortune, others through a superstitious credulity, as if there were material for a serious comparison between a fire which cost the lives of several persons and the very ordinary accident of a June rain-storm which spoiled dresses and wet to the bone thousands of spectators. It was an extremely amusing spectacle for him who had no finery to spoil, and who ran no risk of catching cold, to see these poor women, drenched by the rain, fleeing from one side to the other, with or without a cavalier, and seeking shelters which were nowhere to be found. Some of them were so lucky as to find modest umbrellas, but the majority saw the flowers on their heads beaten down by the rain, or their trimmings, all dripping with water, trailing on the ground in a pitiful way. When it was necessary to return to Paris, carriages were lacking. The coachmen had prudently considered that the fête would last until morning, and had not troubled themselves to wait for people all night. Those who had equipages could not use them; the throng was such that it was almost impossible to move about. Several ladies lost their way and returned to Paris on foot, others lost their shoes, and it was a pity to see their pretty little feet in the mud. Happily, there were very few accidents. The doctor and the bed set everything to rights. But the Emperor laughed a good deal over this adventure, and said it would be profitable to the manufacturers.

M. de Rémusat, so good, so eager to render service, so forgetful of himself for others, had succeeded in obtaining an umbrella. He met my wife and mother-in-law, who were making their escape like the rest. He took each under an arm, and brought them back to the palace without the least damage. During an hour he kept on making this journey from the palace to the park, and from the park to the palace, and he had the happiness of being useful to a large number of ladies, whose toilets he thus saved from utter ruin. This was a trait of gallantry for which every one bore him infinite good-will, because there was blended with it a sentiment of touching kindness.