“It distresses me to have things go wrong in Italy, but if anything were to happen to Hungary it would kill me!” One Summer while visiting some baths, she climbed a near-by mountain on the summit of which a small chalet had been built. As they entered, her companion, seeing a visitor’s book on the table, wrote in it “Elizabeth, Empress of Austria.” Thereupon her mistress drew off her gloves and, taking the pen, added in Hungarian, “Elizabeth, Queen of Hungary.” This mutual attachment proved a valuable safeguard during the war of 1866, when the Prussians threatened to advance on Vienna. It was thought safest for Elizabeth and the little Crown Prince to retire to Budapest, where she was received with an enthusiasm little short of Maria Theresa’s memorable reception. There is no doubt that the devotion of the people to the Queen was largely instrumental in bringing about a better feeling between Austria and Hungary, while still another proof of this devotion was their special request that she might be crowned together with the King, an event that had never before occurred in the history of the country. It was not until the eighth of June, 1867, however, that the coronation took place. The ancient city of Pressburg had been the scene of all former coronations, but on this occasion the ceremonies were to be held for the first time in Ofen and Pesth, or Budapest, as it is now called, which had been made the capital in 1848. The city is one of the most beautifully situated in all Europe. On an almost perpendicular rock stands the royal castle, an imposing structure of great antiquity, and at its foot, surrounding it on three sides, lies Ofen. The flat and more modern town of Pesth is to the left, and beyond it extend boundless plains. Both cities were in gala attire to welcome the sovereigns. In every direction as far as the eye could reach was a sea of waving flags and pennants, and on the spire of the Rathshaus gleamed a huge crown of St. Stephen. The evening before the ceremony was to take place Franz Joseph and his wife made a visit to the cathedral, which had been magnificently decorated for the occasion, and were greeted everywhere with the wildest enthusiasm. As they were about to leave the church an old man fell from a ladder on which he had perched himself in order to obtain a view of “the good Queen of Hungary.” Elizabeth, who saw him fall, hastened at once to his assistance,—an act that called forth renewed cheers when it reached the ears of those outside.