rrow you will have large orders."
The Emperor kept his position during most of the storm, while the
courtiers, dressed in silk and velvet, with uncovered heads, received the
rain with a smiling face. The poor musicians, wet to the skin, at last
could no longer draw any sound from their instruments, of which the rain
had snapped or stretched the cords, and it was time to put an end to this
state of affairs. The Emperor gave the signal for departure, and they
retired.
On that day Prince Aldobrandini, who in his quality of first equerry of
Marie Louise accompanied the Empress, was very happy to find and borrow
an umbrella in order to shelter Marie Louise; but there was much
dissatisfaction in the group where this borrowing was done because the
umbrella was not returned. That evening the Prince Borghese and Princess
Pauline nearly fell into the Seine in their carriage while returning to
their country house at Neuilly. Those persons who took pleasure in
finding omens, and those especially (a very small number) who saw with
chagrin the rejoicings of the Empire, did not fail to remark that every
fete given to Marie Louise had been attended by some accident. They
spoke affectedly of the ball given by the Prince of Schwartzenberg on the
occasion of the espousals, and of the fire which consumed the
dancing-hall, and the tragic death of several persons, notably of the
sister of the prince. They drew from this coincidence bad auguries;
some from ill-will, and in order to undermine the enthusiasm inspired by
the high fortunes of Napoleon; others from a superstitious credulity, as
if there could have been any serious connection between a fire which cost
the lives of several persons, and the very usual accident of a storm in
June, which ruined the toilets, and wet to the skin thousands of
spectators.
It was a very amusing scene for those who had no finery to spoil, and who
ran only the risk of taking cold, to see these poor women drenched with
the rain, running in every direction, with or without a cavalier, and
hunting for shelter which could not be found.
A few were fortunate enough to find modest umbrellas; but most of them
saw the flowers fall from their heads, beaten down by the rain, or their
finery dripping with water, dragging on the ground, in a pitiable state.
When it was time to return to Paris the carriages were missing, as the
coachmen, thinking that the fete would last till daylight, had prudently
thought that th
|