Its
blackened walls and broken and prostrate marbles are overspread by a wild
natural growth--a green shroud wrapping the ghastly ruin;--or rather, it
was like an incursion of a mob of rough vegetation, for there were
neither delicate ferns, nor poetic ivy, but democratic grass and
republican groundsel and communistic thistles and nettles. In place of
the splendid _Cent-Guardes_ stood tall, impudent weeds; in place of
courtiers, the supple and bending briar; while up the steps, which the
Queen and Empress and their ladies ascended that night, pert little
_grisettes_ of _marguerites_ were climbing.
So perfect was the hospitality of the Emperor that they had things as
English as possible at the Palace-even providing an English chaplain for
Sunday morning. In the afternoon, however, he backslid into French
irreligion and natural depravity, and they all went to enjoy the fresh
air, the sight of the trees, the flowers and the children in the Bois de
Boulogne. The next day they went into the city to the _Exposition des
Beaux Arts,_ and to the _Elysee_ for lunch and a reception--then they all
drove to the lovely _Sainte Chapelle_ and the _Palais de Justice_. There
the Emperor pointed out the old _Conciergerie_, and said--"There is where
I was imprisoned.
Pages:
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248