At last came the long-awaited moment when Elizabeth, leaning on the Emperor’s arm, entered the Austrian capital. From thousands of throats came the shout, “Long live the Emperor’s bride!” The sound was so overwhelming that Elizabeth stood for some moments by her lover’s side as if spellbound; then, as her glance swept slowly over the excited throng, she smiled charmingly and waved her handkerchief to the delighted spectators. Many years have passed since that day, many misfortunes have overtaken Austria and the house of Hapsburg, but eyewitnesses are still living who remember that moment and tell of the picture the fair young princess made as she then appeared in all her exquisite loveliness. [Illustration: _EMPEROR FRANZ JOSEPH in his twenty-eighth year_] The progress from Mussdorf to Schönbrunn was a continuous ovation. At half-past seven they reached the gates of the old palace, where the Emperor once more bade his bride welcome before leading her up the great staircase, which was decorated from top to bottom with tropical plants and flowers. On the following day the state entry into Vienna took place. Every house had been decorated by loving hands, and the streets through which the bride was to pass were perfect rivers of flowers. The Elizabeth Bridge, which connected Vienna with the suburb of Wieden or “An der Wien,” was opened that day and given the name of the Empress.[1] Here the mayor and council of the city were stationed to welcome her. About the eight statues of famous men which adorned the bridge, thousands of rare shrubs and blossoms from the hothouses of Princes Lichtenstein and Schwarzenberg, the fragrance of which filled the whole town, had been effectively arranged. As far as the Corinthian gate stretched a triple wall of citizens, and at short intervals young girls stood strewing flowers. The thunder of cannon and pealing of bells from every church tower in Vienna and its suburbs proclaimed the starting of the procession. The golden state coach was drawn by eight milk-white horses with tall white plumes on their heads; the harnesses were covered with gold, and the coachman, footmen, and postilions wore white wigs. On the back seat sat the bride with her mother. Her dress was of red satin, embroidered in silver, and over it she wore a white cloak trimmed with garlands of roses. About her neck was a lace handkerchief, and in her beautiful hair sparkled a circlet of diamonds, twined in which was a wreath of red roses. Never had Elizabeth more fitly deserved the name so often given her, never had she more perfectly looked “The Rose of Bavaria.”