In the Courts of Memory 1858-1875. | Page 9

my skates in the carriage, and when I arrived, I
walked down to the lake. I never saw such splendid ice (and I have seen
many ices). No tardy layers, no treacherous holes, just one even mirror
of marble. Imagine my surprise at not seeing a person on the ice; but
there were masses of spectators gathered on the edge of the lake
looking at it. The Emperor and the Empress were there. I knew them by
sight; but the only one I knew personally was Prince Joachim Murat,
our neighbor in the country. He married Elizabeth Wagram, and they
lived with her parents at Gros-Bois, near Petit Val.
Therefore, I stood unknown and unnoticed. I ventured one foot on the
indiscreet, reflecting surface, then the other; and while the assembled
crowd gazed at me in amazement, I made the tour of the lake on my
skates.
My experience of seven years on Fresh Pond did not fail me, and I
skimmed over the flawless ice on the outer edge, like a bird with
close-fitting wings; indeed, I felt like one. The ice was so clear that one
could see the grass and stones at the bottom.
This was an exhilarating moment!
When I returned to the starting-place I saw that no one had dared to
follow my example, and as an act of (I hardly dare to write it) silly
bravoura I took baby out of the nurse's arms, and with him gurgling
and chuckling with delight, his little head on my shoulder, I skated

around with him. _Only once!_ Don't scold me! I felt directly what a
wicked thing I was doing, for, if there had been a stone or a branch
frozen in the ice, I might have fallen, and then--what might not have
happened! But as long as I was alone and sure of my skates I was not
afraid. I saw some of the more courageous skaters beginning to invade
the ice, and I flew back, thoroughly ashamed of myself, and delivered
my rosy burden into the arms of its nurse, who stood aghast, like a
frozen Niobe, with wide eyes, watching me, the foolish mother. I sent
them back to Paris in the coupé, begging my husband to come and fetch
me. I was vain enough to wish him to see me in my glory.
Prince Murat came up to speak to me. As we saw the Emperor, who
was on skates, coming toward us, Prince Murat said, "Here comes the
Emperor to speak to you." I felt dreadfully frightened, for I was not
sure--it being the first time I had ever spoken to a sovereign--what was
the proper manner to address him. I knew I must say "Sire," and "votre
Majesté"; but when and how often I did not know. His Majesty held in
his hand a short stick with an iron point, such as are used in climbing
the Alps, and managed to propel himself forward by little right-legged
shunts, his left leg not daring to do anything but slide, and stopped like
an engine nearing a station, puffing and out of breath. Prince Murat
moved aside, and his Majesty looked at me, then at Prince Murat, who,
in an introductory manner, said "This is Madame Moulton, your
Majesty, the daughter-in-law of our neighbor, whom you know." "Ah!"
said the Emperor, and, turning to me, he said, "How beautifully you
skate, Madame; it is wonderful to look at you!"
[Illustration: EMPEROR NAPOLEON III]
I (frightened out of my wits) murmured that I had skated since I was
eight years old. "One can only skate like that when one learns young,"
the Emperor said. And while I was wondering when I should say
"Votre Majesté," he said, "Oserai-je demander à une patineuse si
parfaite de patiner avec un humble patineur (Dare I ask such a perfect
skater as you to skate with so humble a skater as myself)?"
He was a humble skater indeed! I answered that it would be a great
honor to me. He then stretched out his hands, and I took them very
much as I would have taken any one else's hands, and we ambled forth,
I supporting and upholding the tottering steps of the monarch of the
French nation. I felt that the eye of the nation was on me, and, indeed,

it was, as much of the nation as happened to be there; but, proud as I
was, I wished that some one would relieve me of this responsibility.
Suppose his Majesty should fall!... Dreadful thought! The Emperor
skated on silently, intent on balancing himself, and I, you may be sure,
was intent on keeping him intent. He stumbled at every stroke; but as I
was on his left side--the weak one--we got along very nicely, and we
felt