“The third day, a night promenade took place.  The palace of the doge, and the houses along the Canal Grande, were illuminated in the most brilliant manner, and gave light to hundreds of gondolas, which also were made luminous with divers-colored lamps.  After a promenade of two hours, and a splendid display of fireworks in the midst of the waters, the ball opened in the palace of the doge.  When we think of the means which the situation of Venice offers, the beauty of her architecture, the wonderful animation of the thousand gondolas closely pressed together, causing the impression of a city in motion; and when we think of the great exertions which such an occasion would naturally call forth, the brilliant imagination of this people so remarkable for its refined taste, and its burning lusts for pleasure—­then we can form some idea of the wondrous spectacle presented by Venice in those days.  It was no more the mighty Venice, it was the elegant, the luxurious Venice.” [Footnote:  “Memoires du Due de Raguse,” vol. i., p. 287.]

After those days of festivities, Josephine, the queen of them, returned to the quietude of Passeriano, which, after the sunshine of Venice, must have appeared to her still more gloomy and sad.

But Bonaparte himself was weary of all this useless repose, and he resolved with a daring blow to cut into shreds those diplomatic knots of so many thousand interwoven threads.

The instrument with which he was to give the blow was not the sword--it was not that which Alexander had used, but it was a cup.  This cup, at a dejeuner given to him by the Count von Coblentz, where was displayed the costly porcelain service presented to him by the Empress Catharine, was dashed at the feet of the Count von Coblentz by Bonaparte, who, with a thundering voice, exclaimed:  “In fourteen days I will dash to pieces the Austrian monarchy as I now break this!”

The Count von Coblentz, infuriated at this, was still staring in bewilderment at the fragments of the imperial gift, when Bonaparte left the room, to enter his carriage.  With a loud voice he called to one of the officers of his suite, and gave him orders to go at once to the camp of the Archduke Charles, and to tell him, in the name of General Bonaparte, that the peace negotiations were broken, and that hostilities would be resumed next day.

But as Bonaparte was going toward his carriage, he met the Marquis de Gallo, who besought him to re-enter the room; he assured him that it had been resolved to accept Bonaparte’s ultimatum—­that is to say, to renounce all claims to the fortress of Mantua.

On the next day [Footnote:  The 17th of October, 1797.] the treaty of peace between Austria and France was signed.  It had been decided that the ceremony of signing it should take place in the village of Campo Formio, which for this reason was declared to be neutral ground.  It lay midway between Udine and Passeriano; and Bonaparte sent his adjutant, Marmont, into the village to select a house where the ceremony might take place.  But there was not a single building which was in any way fitted to receive such distinguished guests.  The Austrian diplomats, therefore, consented to come to Passeriano to ratify the terms of peace, provided, it should be named after the neutral territory of Campo Formio.