Part 24

The theater is entirely lighted by wax candles, of which there must have been thousands, and all the scenery belonging to the play was sent especially from Paris.

Their Majesties sat in the center of the Imperial Loge, and the lady guests and the most important gentlemen, according to their rank, were placed beside and behind them.

The other gentlemen sat in the parquet, and circulated about between the acts.

In the boxes were places for the Court ladies, also the ladies invited from the neighboring château and from Compiègne.

The whole assemblage certainly presented the most dazzling and magnificent sight. The ladies in their beautiful toilettes and superb jewels showed to the greatest advantage in this brilliantly lighted theater. The Empress was gorgeous in yellow tulle covered with lace and jewels. She wore the famous Regent diamond, which belongs to the French Crown, in her corsage, and a superb diamond tiara and necklace. Princess Metternich, who is known to be the best dressed lady in Paris, had a black tulle dress embroidered in gold; she wore a tiara of diamonds and emeralds and a necklace of the same.

When their Majesties entered every one rose and courtesied deeply; their Majesties bowed graciously in response. The Master of Ceremonies gave the signal, and the curtain rose immediately.

The actors seemed inspired to do their best, as well they might, with such a brilliant audience before them.

I wondered if they did not miss the claque, to which actors are so accustomed in France. You know the claque is a set of men who are hired to clap at certain points in the play indicated beforehand to them, in order that the audience may appreciate the most salient points and join the applause, if they wish to.

Every one enjoyed the play immensely. There were portions of it which were very pathetic. I noticed the Emperor was visibly affected, and the Empress wiped from her eyes una furtiva lagrima, as Donizetti's song has it.

I know I cried my lace handkerchief wet.

The representation lasted till about half-past ten, and after our return to the salon the Emperor sent for the artists, who had by this time changed their toilettes. Their Majesties talked long, and, I should say, familiarly with them, and, judging from the way they laughed and chatted, they seemed to feel quite at their ease, especially Coquelin, who apparently put the Emperor in a very good humor. At eleven o'clock refreshments were passed round, the carriages were announced, and making a deferential "reverence" the artists took their leave, carrying with them an ornament with the monograms of their Majesties as a souvenir of their visit.

I never saw the Empress look so beautiful as she did to-night. She certainly is the most exquisite creature, and what is so charming about her is her utter lack of self-consciousness. Her smile is bewitching beyond description, her complexion perfect, her hair of the Venetian type, and her profile classical. Her head is so beautifully put on her shoulders, her neck and shoulders are absolutely faultless. None of the many portraits painted of her, not even Winterhalter's, do her the least justice; no brush can paint and no words can describe her charm. I think the famous beauty, Countess Castiglione, cannot begin to compare with her.

Their Majesties withdrew. The guests from the château and those from Compiègne took their departure, and we all dispersed to our several apartments.

I am beginning to learn the ways of the life of Compiègne.

At nine o'clock our tea, coffee, or chocolate (as we choose) is brought to our rooms by a white-stockinged and powdered valet.

If you are very energetic, you can go for a walk in the park, or (as I did to my sorrow) a visit to the town. But you are not energetic more than once, because you do not find it worth your while, as you must hurry back, and change your dress and shoes before appearing in the salon a little before eleven o'clock, the hour for breakfast. You remain in the same dress until you change for dinner or the Empress's tea. You find every morning in your room a programme for the day.

Déjeuner à onze heures. Chasse à tir à deux heures. Comédie Française à neuf heures.

So you know what to wear and what to expect; but the invitation to tea is always made by the Empress's private huissier, who knocks at your door toward five o'clock and announces, "Her Majesty the Empress desires your presence at five o'clock."

The toilette de rigueur for this occasion is a high-necked long silk dress, and you generally remain until six o'clock.

If you are not summoned to her Majesty's tea, tea is served in your own salon, where you can invite people to take tea with you, or you are invited to take tea with other people.

If there is a hunt, the ladies wear their green-cloth costumes and the gentlemen wear their hunting gear (a red coat, velvet cap, and top-boots). The gentlemen wear culottes courtes the first evening they arrive, and on such fine occasions as the curée, and at the Gala Theater, where outsiders are invited; otherwise they always wear pantalon collant, which is the most unbecoming thing one can imagine in the way of manly attire.

At six o'clock you dress for dinner, always in ball dress, and a little before seven you meet in the Grande Salle des Fêtes. At dinner the guests are placed according to their rank, but at déjeuner there is no ceremony, and you engage your partner after your heart's desire. Those who are high up at dinner try to get as far down at the end of the table as possible.

With me it is all ups and downs; at breakfast I am 'way up to the very top, and at dinner 'way down.

After déjeuner the Master of Ceremonies inquires what you wish to do; that is to say, if there is nothing special mentioned on the programme, such as a review, or manoeuvers, or a chasse à courre, when all are expected to join.

Do you wish to walk? You can tramp up and down the one-thousand-metre-long trellis walk, sheltered from wind and rain.

Do you wish to drive? There are carriages of all descriptions, chars-à- bancs, landaus, pony-carriages, and even a donkey-cart, at your service.

Do you care to ride? There are one hundred and fifty horses eating their heads off in the Imperial stables waiting for you.

Do the gentlemen wish to go shooting? There are countless gamekeepers booted and spurred, with guns and game-bags on their shoulders, impatient to accompany you.