A brilliant
strip of his dazzling snow-white riding breeches shimmered above the deep-red velvet
of the balustrade. The audience stood and stared at the box where he sat, as the
orchestra played the “Marseillaise.”
“Long live the Emperor!” called one of the actors from the stage. The
whole house echoed this.
He waved and left the box. On the staircase he turned to his adjutant
and said: “Note this: Angelina Pietri from Ajaccio.”
He forgot the name again instantly. He thought only of
Ajaccio.
XIV
He needed weapons, soldiers, and a grand parade.
For the benefit of the representatives of the people, whom he disdained,
for his soldiers, whom he loved, for the priests of the faith (in which he did not
believe) and for the people of Paris, whose love he feared, he intended to show
himself as the protector of the country and of freedom. For a few hours on this day
all the workshops in which preparations were being made were idle. The forges and
ironworks were shut. However, the millers, bakers, butchers, and distillers were
busy preparing for the celebration. For this day the soldiers were to don the new
uniforms that had been made for the war.
The master of ceremonies developed a plan for a grandiose and drawn-out
display.
The celebration took place on June 1. The day was one of the warmest
since the Emperor’s return. It was a hot and ripe summer’s day. It was a strange
heat, unknown this time of year. The year seemed hasty to reach maturity. The lilacs
were already past their peak. The cockchafers had quickly disappeared. The great
chestnut leaves had reached their full size and achieved their deep-green color. In
the woods the strawberries had long since been ripening. Thunderstorms occurred
frequently and with midsummer’s intensity. The sun blazed; its brilliance was
savage. Even on calm, cloudless days the swallows dived very low, practically
touching the cobbles in the streets, as they did in other years only before
impending rain. Here and there could be heard whispers, both open and hushed, of
coming disaster. The newspapers of the land promised peace, but in all the villages
and all the towns new recruits were drafted and old soldiers were recalled into the
army. And not without dread did the people hear the armorers hammering away busily.
They listened with horror as the butchers told of the magnitude of the government’s
order, and they watched the menacing zeal of the soldiers drilling on the parade
ground. And on this festive day they were curious, indeed, but also distrustful.
Soon the celebration began on the great festival ground. Representing
each regiment there were officers, both commissioned and non-commissioned, and
privates. Two hundred men bore the shining Imperial eagles of brass and gold; here
stood the dignitaries of the Légion d’Honneur and the Councillors of State, there
the university professors, the city judges, members of the city council, the
cardinals, the bishops, the Imperial Guard, and the Garde Nationale. The sabres and
bayonets of forty-five thousand troops glinted. Hundreds of cannon thundered. In
every direction there were people, a solid wall of people, a vast and anonymous
mass, curious, pitiable, and full of zeal.
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