ld remark, that all whom conviction, policy, or perhaps
bribery inclined to the alliance, were taken into court favor, and
replaced in the offices of the household those whose opinions were
adverse. A total change, in fact, took place in the persons of the royal
suite, and the Hungarian nobles, many of whom filled the "Hautes Charges,"
as they are called, now made way for Bohemian grandees, who were
understood to entertain more favorable sentiments toward France. Whether
in utter despair of the cause for which they had suffered so long and so
much, or that they were willing to accept this alliance with the oldest
dynasty of Europe as a compromise, I am unable to say; but so was it. Many
of the emigre nobility of France, the unflinching, implacable enemies of
Bonaparte, consented to bury their ancient grudges, and were now seen
accepting place and office in the Austrian household. This was a most
artful flattery of the Austrians, and was peculiarly agreeable to
Napoleon, who longed to legalize his position by a reconciliation with the
old followers of the Bourbons, and who dreaded their schemes and plots far
more than he feared all the turbulent violence of the "Faubourg." In one
day, no fewer than three French nobles were appointed to places of trust
in the household, and a special courier was sent off to Gratz to convey
the appointment of maid of honor to a young French lady who lived there in
exile.

Each of my countrymen on arriving came to visit me. They had all known my
father by name, if not personally, and most graciously acknowledged me as
one of themselves, a flattery they sincerely believed above all price.

I had heard much of the overweening vanity and conceit of the
Legitimatists, but the reality far exceeded all my notions of them. There
was no pretense, no affectation whatever about them. They implicitly
believed that in "accepting the Corsican," as the phrase went, they were
displaying a condescension and self-negation unparalleled in history. The
tone of superiority thus assumed, of course made them seem supremely
ridiculous to my eyes--I, who had sacrificed heavily enough for the Empire,
and yet felt myself amply rewarded. But apart from these exaggerated ideas
of themselves, they were most amiable, gentle-mannered, and agreeable.

The ladies and gentlemen of what was called the "Service," associated all
together, dining at the same table, and spending each evening in a
handsome suite appropriated to