The palace Serbelloni served Italy’s deliverer once more as a residence, and it was well calculated for this on account of its vastness and elegance.  This was one of the most beautiful buildings among the palaces of Milan.  Over its massive lower structure, and its rez-de chaussee of red granite, sparkling in the sun with its play of many colors, arose bold and steep its light and graceful facade.  The interior of this beautiful palace of the Dukes of Serbelloni was adorned with all the splendors which sculpture and painting gathered into the palaces of the Italian nobility.

In those halls, whose roofs were richly decorated and gilded, and supported by white columns of marble, and whose walls were covered with those splendid and enormous mirrors which the republic of Venice alone then manufactured; and from whose tall windows hung down in long, heavy folds curtains of purple velvet, embroidered with gold, the work of the famous artisans of Milan—­in those brilliant halls the happy couple, Bonaparte and Josephine, received the deputies of applauding Italy and the high aristocracy of all Lombardy.

An eye-witness thus describes a reception-evening in the Serbelloni palace:  “The hall in which the general received his visitors was a long gallery divided by marble columns into three smaller rooms; the two extreme divisions formed two large drawing-rooms, perfectly square, and the middle partition formed a long and wide promenade apartment.  In the drawing-room, into which I entered, was Madame Bonaparte, the beautiful Madame Visconti, Madame Leopold Berthier, and Madame Ivan.  Under the arches, at the entrance of the middle room, stood the general; around him, but at a distance, the chiefs of the war department, the magistrates of the city, with a few ministers of the Italian governments, all in respectful attitude before him.  Nothing seemed to be more striking than the bearing of this little man among the dignitaries overawed by his character.  His attitude had nothing of pride, but it had the dignity of a man conscious of his worth, and who feels that he is in the right place.  Bonaparte tried not to increase his stature, so as to be on the same level with those around him; they already spared him that trouble, and bowed to him.  None of those who conversed with him appeared taller than he.  Berthier, Silmaine, Clarke, Augerean, awaited silently till he should address them, an honor which this evening was not conferred upon all.  Never were headquarters so much like a court:  they were the prelude to the Tuileries.” [Footnote:  Arnold, “Souvenirs d’un Sexagenaire,” vol. iii., p. 10.]

To Milan came the ambassadors of princes, of the free cities, and of the Italian republics.  They all claimed Bonaparte’s assistance and protection; they came bearers of good-will, of utterances of hope and fear, and expecting from him help and succor.  The princes trembled for their thrones; the cities and republics for their independence; they wanted to conciliate by their submission the general whose sword could either threaten them all or give them ample protection.  Bonaparte received this homage with the composure of a protector, and sometimes also with the proud reserve of a conqueror.