In German Schönbrunn signifies beautiful fountain. This name is derived from a fresh and limpid spring found in a grove of the park; it gushes from a little eminence around which has been constructed a small pavilion, very prettily sculptured on the interior so as to imitate stalactites. Within is a recumbent naiad holding a horn, through which the water issues and falls into a marble reservoir. It is a delightful little spot in summer time.

One can but praise the interior of the palace: it is richly furnished in an original and distinguished style. The Emperor's sleeping-chamber, the only room in the building in which there was a chimney, was wainscoted in Chinese lacquer, very old, but still astonishingly fresh in its painting and gilding; the study was decorated in the same manner; all the rooms, this one excepted, were heated in winter by immense stoves, which singularly detracted from the effect of the architecture. Between the studs and the Emperor's bedroom was a very curious machine called the flying chair, a sort of mechanical cabin which had been constructed for the Empress Maria-Theresa, and served to transport her from one floor to another, so that she was not obliged to go up and down the stairs like everybody else. This machine was worked by the same methods employed for those of the theatre; that is, by ropes, pulleys, and counterweights.

The fine plantation which serves as park and garden to the palace of Schönbrunn is not as large as it should be for an imperial residence, but it would be impossible to find one more charming or better arranged. The park of Versailles is more majestic, more grandiose, but it has not the picturesqueness, the irregularity, the fantastic and unexpected effects of the park of Schönbrunn; Malmaison might more readily be compared with it. In front of the interior façade of the palace was a magnificent parterre, at the end of which was a large reservoir adorned by a group of statues representing the triumph of Neptune. This group is very fine; the French amateurs (and every one wishes to be considered a connoisseur) maintained that the women were Austrian rather than Greek; they missed the slenderness and suavity of antique forms; for my part, I confess these statues seemed to me very remarkable.

At the end of the large avenue, and bounding the horizon, rises a hill which dominates the park. It is surmounted by a very pretty building called the Gloriette; it is a circular gallery, glazed, and supported by a charming colonnade, with trophies in the intervals. When coming by the road from Vienna you catch sight, on entering the avenue, of the Gloriette, above, and as it were blended with the palace; this view produces a very good effect.

What the Austrians admire in the park of Schönbrunn is a grove in which are what they call the ruins. A reservoir, with a gushing fountain which supplies several small cascades, the remains of an aqueduct and a temple, fallen vases, statues without heads, legs, and arms,—these members being scattered in all directions,—broken columns half-embedded in earth, upright ones supporting fragments of a pediment or entablature,—all this unites to form a fine disorder and resembles a veritable antique ruin when viewed from a little distance. But seen close by it is quite another thing; the hand of the contemporary sculptor is visible; all these fragments are plainly of one sort of stone; and the weeds pushing through the crevices of the columns show for what they are, namely, stone painted to imitate verdure.

But if the works of art scattered in the park of Schönbrunn are not all irreproachable, those of nature abundantly make up for this. What beautiful trees! what thick hornbeams! what deep and refreshing shades! The alleys, prodigiously high and wide, were planted with trees that united overhead and were impenetrable to sunlight; the eye lost itself in the windings of other smaller alleys where each step revealed some agreeable surprise. At the end of the longest was the menagerie, one of the largest and most diversified in Europe. It is very ingenious in construction, and might serve as a model; it is shaped like a star, in the centre of which there is a very elegant little kiosque, placed there by the Empress Maria-Theresa as a resting-place. From this kiosque the whole menagerie is visible.

Each of the rays of this star forms a private garden, in which range elephants, buffaloes, camels, dromedaries, deer, kangaroos; or where tigers, bears, leopards, lions, hyenas, etc., are enclosed in fine and solid cages. Swans and rare aquatic fowls swim in ponds surrounded by railings. I specially remarked in this menagerie a very extraordinary animal which His Majesty had intended to send to France, but it died the day before it was to depart. It came from Poland and was called curus; it was a sort of ox, much larger than the ordinary one, with a mane like a lion's, and horns rather short and somewhat curved, but enormously thick at the base.

The drums beat every morning at six o'clock; two or three hours later the troops ordered for the parade were assembled in the court of honor. At ten o'clock precisely the Emperor came down the front steps and placed himself in the midst of his generals.

It is impossible to form an idea of these parades, which did not in the least resemble the parades of honor in Paris. In holding these reviews the Emperor descended to the least details; he examined the soldiers one by one, so to say; he looked into the eyes of every one to see whether he were feeling pain or pleasure in his head; he questioned the officers and sometimes even the soldiers. It was usually there that His Majesty made his promotions. He would sometimes ask a colonel who was the bravest officer of his regiment; the response was always prompt, always frank: the Emperor knew this well. When the colonel had spoken, His Majesty would address himself to all the officers in general. "Which is the bravest one among you?" "Sire, it is such a one." The two replies were nearly always alike. "Then," the Emperor would say, "I make him a baron, and I reward in him not merely his personal valor, but that of the corps to which he belongs. He does not owe this favor to me alone, but also to the esteem of his comrades." It was the same with respect to the soldiers. Those most distinguished for courage or good conduct rose in grade or received gratuities, or even pensions. The Emperor granted one of twelve hundred francs to a soldier making his first campaign, who had crossed an enemy's squadron carrying his wounded general on his shoulder, and defending him as he would have done his father.

In these reviews the Emperor was seen to look into the soldiers' knapsacks, to examine their account-books, and to take a musket from the hands of a frail young man, who looked pale and suffering, and say to him in a benevolent tone: "It is very heavy!" He often commanded the exercise; when he did not, it was either General Dorsenne, General Curial, or General Mouton. Sometimes he took whims. One morning, for example, when a regiment of the confederation was to be reviewed, His Majesty turned toward the orderly officers, and addressing Prince de Salm, said to him: "M. de Salm, these men ought to know you; come here, order them to charge in twelve time." The young prince blushed a good deal, but did not seem disconcerted; he bowed, drew his sword as gracefully as possible, and did what the Emperor desired with an ease and precision which delighted him. Another day, the pontoon men were marching with about forty vehicles. The Emperor cried: Halt! and, pointing out an ammunition wagon to General Bertrand, told him to call up one of his officers. "What is there in that wagon?" "Sire, some bolts, sacks of nails, ropes, hatchets, saws. . . ." — "How many of all that?" The officer gave the exact number. His Majesty, to verify the report, had the wagon emptied, counted the pieces, found the numbers tally, and to assure himself that nothing had been left in the wagon, he climbed into it over the wheel, making use of the spokes. There was a movement of approbation and shouts of joy in all the ranks. "Bravo!" said they; "that is right! That is the way not to be deceived." All these things caused the Emperor to be adored by his soldiers.