f the same room for illustrious guests. The grand marshal
announced to the emperor when the preparations for them to enter the
room was completed. A gorgeous procession of pages, marshals, equeries,
and chamberlains accompanied the emperor and empress into the hall.
Pages and stewards performed the subordinate parts of the service at the
table, in bringing and removing dishes, while noblemen of the highest
rank felt honored in ministering to the immediate wants of their
majesties. Those who sat at the surrounding tables were served by
servants in livery.

Josephine passed the evening in her apartment almost invariably with a
party either of invited guests, or of distinguished ministers and
officers of the empire, who, having called on business, were awaiting
the pleasure of Napoleon. There were frequent receptions and levees,
which filled the saloons of the palace with a brilliant throng. At
midnight all company retired, and the palace was still. Josephine loved
the silence of these midnight hours, when the turmoil of the day had
passed, and no sounds fell upon her ear but the footfalls of the
sentinel in the court-yard below. She often sat for an hour alone,
surrendering herself to the luxury of solitude and of undisturbed
thought.

Such was the general routine of the life of Josephine while empress. She
passed from one to another of the various royal residences, equally at
home in all. At the Tuilleries, St. Cloud, Versailles, Rambouillet, and
Fontainebleau, life was essentially the same. Occasionally, at the
rural palaces, hunting parties were formed for the entertainment of
distinguished guests from abroad. Napoleon himself took but little
personal interest in sports of this kind. On such occasions, the
empress, with her ladies, usually rode in an open caleche, and a pic-nic
was provided, to be spread on the green turf, beneath the boughs of the
forest. Once a terrified, panting stag, exhausted with the long chase,
when the hounds in full bay were just ready to spring upon him, by a
strange instinct sought a retreat beneath the carriage in which the
gentle heart of Josephine was throbbing. The appeal was not in vain.
Josephine plead for the life of the meek-eyed, trembling suppliant.
To mark it as her favorite, and as living under the shield of her
protection, she had a silver collar put around its neck. The stag now
roamed its native glades unharmed. No dog was permitted to molest it,
and no sportsman would injur