The Empress was at an age in which one enjoys balls and fetes; but the Emperor feared above all things her becoming tired, and consequently rejoicings and amusements were given up at the court and in the city.  A fete given in honor of their Majesties by the Prince of Schwartzenberg, ambassador from Austria, ended in a frightful accident.

The prince occupied the former Hotel de la Montesson in the rue de la Chaussee d’Antin; and in order to give this ball had added to this residence a broad hall and wooden gallery, decorated with quantities of flowers, banners, candelabra, etc.  Just as the Emperor, who had been present at the fete for two or three hours, was about to retire, one of the curtains, blown by the breeze, took fire from the lights, which had been placed too near the windows, and was instantly in flames.  Some persons made ineffectual efforts to extinguish the fire by tearing down the drapery and smothering the flames with their hands; but in the twinkling of an eye the curtains, papers, and garlands caught, and the wood-work began to burn.

The Emperor was one of the first to perceive the rapid progress of the fire, and foresee the results.  He approached the Empress, who had already risen to join him, and got out with her, not without some difficulty, on account of the crowd which rushed towards the doors; the Queens of Holland, Naples, Westphalia, the Princess Borghese, etc., following their Majesties, while the Vice-queen of Italy, who was pregnant, remained in the hall, on the platform containing the Imperial boxes.  The vice-king, fearing the crowd as much as the fire for his wife, took her out through a little door that had been cut in the platform in order to serve refreshments to their Majesties.  No one had thought of this opening before Prince Eugene, and only a few persons went out with him.  Her Majesty the Queen of Westphalia did not think herself safe, even when she had reached the terrace, and in her fright rushed into the rue Taitbout, where she was found by a passer-by.

The Emperor accompanied the Empress as far as the entrance of the Champs-Elysees, where he left her to return to the fire, and did not re-enter Saint-Cloud until four o’clock in the morning.  From the time of the arrival of the Empress we were in a state of terrible apprehension, and every one in the chateau was a prey to the greatest anxiety in regard to the Emperor.  At last he arrived unharmed, but very tired, his clothing all in disorder, and his face blackened with smoke, his shoes and stockings scorched and burned by the fire.  He went directly to the chamber of the Empress to assure himself if she had recovered from the fright she had experienced; and then returned to his room, and throwing his hat on the bed, dropped on a sofa, exclaiming, “Mon Dieu!  What a fete!” I remarked that the Emperor’s hands were all blackened, and he had lost his gloves at the fire.  He was much dejected, and while I was undressing him, asked if I had attended