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again through the Palace Gardens. The Emperor and Empress were standing upon the balcony gazing on the still glowing illumination. The crowd had departed, and the falling waters of the fountains were sweetly musical, in the stillness of the midnight. We walked around the parterres, and lingered near each statue; it was truly difficult to leave these scenes of enchantment. When we looked our last upon them, they were yet dazzling and bright, and now upon my memory is daguerreotyped the gorgeous spectacle of that brilliant night of August the fifteenth.

Fontainebleau.-In the ancient town of Fontainebleau, and in the palace of the kings of France, we spent two charming days. Our sojourn there was delightful, and the memory of the sweet hours we passed in the depths of the forest, wandering amid the rocks of Franchard or within the stately halls of the palace, can never leave my heart.

As we were exceedingly occupied all day in Paris, we could only leave for Fontainebleau by the night train. It was glorious moonlight, and the sky of cloudless blue. Our journey of forty miles was accomplished in two hours; then a carriage quickly conveyed us along an avenue of trees, to the neat and quaint old hotel of "the Black Eagle,” where the bright-eyed hostess received us with much delight, as we came recommended by her father, Monsieur Paul. Although we had passed through many narrow streets, it was quite impossible to realize that we were in a city, such perfect silence prevailed. Our apartments opened upon a splendid garden, and myriads of flowers were giving out their fragrant breath to the moonlit night. Long we lingered at the windows: the calm beauty of the scene was a gentle contrast to the hurry, the confusion, the excitement, of our life for many weeks.

At day, dawn we were up and away to the forest of Fon

tainebleau, thus named from the Fontaine de belle eau, (the fountain of fine water,) at which the Danish warrior, Bierra, often drank, and finally there made his camp, in 845. The forest is about twelve or thirteen leagues in circumference, and is said to be the largest in France. It has always been the favorite hunting-ground of the kings, and often of queens, who delighted in the sport. The road passed through the depths of the green shade, but to us it seemed little like a forest; for in all directions were evidences of the care bestowed upon the trees. The large ones were all named, and the smaller ones numbered. There was the "Oak of Molière," then the "Oak of Marie Antoinette," "The Bouquet of the King," "The Queen's Tree," and many other appellations, printed upon boards and attached to some lofty limb

About the centre of the forest we came upon the ruins of a Convent, four centuries old. It is now called the "Hermitage of Franchard," from a hermit, who lived there. for many years. Around these ruins are great rocks; from one of them there flows a tiny stream of water, and hence

its name, "The Weeping Rock." The "Grotto of Franchard" is near by, and a lily-covered lakelet, styled "The Hermit's Sea."

We spent many hours exploring the forest labyrinth, and when wearied of the "wild woods," we drove to the Palace of Fontainebleau, so rich in historical associations. We entered it by the "Court of the White Horse." It was there Napoléon bade adieu to the Old Guard, ere he left for Elba. The Palace is not remarkable in its architecture. Within it are many fine halls and frescoed galleries. We passed through the apartments of Catherine de Medici, of Marie' Antoinette, and along the corridor where Mondaldeschi was murdered, by the command of the Queen Christina of Sweden.

REMINISCENCES OF NAPOLEON.

163

We entered the room where Napoléon signed his abdication. The table upon which it was written is preserved, beneath a glass case. The apartments of the Duchess of Orleans, which she occupied upon her marriage, are those once used by the admirable Josephine. There is a throne-room, a chapel, and a theatre. Many of the rooms are hung with gobelin tapestry, and there are also handsome paintings. A small apartment, containing multitudes of plates of Sevres china, was very curious. These plates were fastened in the wall by gilded frames, and the paintings upon them represented scenes around the palace and in the forest. There were also views of the monuments of Paris, and of Versailles. They were wonderful in their perfection of color, and were as beautiful as the finest pictures upon ivory.

We were shown the apartments occupied by the Pope Pius, during his forced sojourn in the palace; also “The Chamber of Anne of Austria," which is superbly furnished, in the fashion of her time.

The remembrances of Napoléon clustered more closely around us here than elsewhere in France, for the two great trials of his life were here enacted,-signing the bill which divorced him from his loving and faithful Josephine, and that of his abdication. His sleeping-room remains precisely as he left it; and upon the little island in the lake, is still preserved the summer-house, where he retired each day to spend long hours in meditation. The immense carp which fill the lake came at our call to be fed.

The gardens are lovely. There are fountains and waterfalls, cool grottoes and green arbors, groves of noble trees, and lawns of velvet-like smoothness. For hours we wander

lakelets, the only oc

ed amid the parterres, and by the calm cupants and admirers of all this beauty. Although for centuries Fontainebleau was the especial resort of the monarchs

of France, it is now some years since it has been visited by the Emperor, though it is kept up with all the elegance of a royal residence. There was a great charm to us, in the quiet, pleasant old town; and with real regret we bade adieu to our pretty little hostess, and in the soft evening twilight departed for Paris.

CHAPTER XX.

WE only remained a few days in Paris, to bid adieu to dear friends, who were returning to America, and to prepare for our visit to Switzerland. At early morning, August 26th, we drove through the "Place de la Bastile," en route for Dijon. The sun's first rays fell gloriously upon the gilt Mercury of the Column of July, erected to the memory of those who died nobly fighting for the "glory of France."

We soon reached the station, and then away, with rapid speed, to Fontainebleau. The railway passed through a fertile country, filled with vineyards and waving fields of grain. We stopped at Montereau, at Sens, at Joigny, St. Florentine, Nuits, St. Ravier, Verrey, Plombieres, and ere night reached Dijon, the chief town of the Department of the Côte d'Or. The streets are narrow, and the houses of a quaint style of architecture. On the "Place d'Armes" is the ancient palace of the Dukes of Burgundy. There were several fine churches, and a large cathedral. Near the gates of Dijon is the Chartreuse, where many members of the royal family are buried. The famous wines of Chambertin, Vougeot, and Romance, are made from the grapes of the vineyards just without the walls.

We left Dijon at half-past three in the morning, in the

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