There was something of pride, too, in the way these great families continued to keep up the splendor of their households, large retinues of servants and gorgeous equipages, when the very empire itself was crumbling to pieces. And to the costly expenditure of that fevered interval may be dated the ruin of some of the richest of the Austrian nobility. To maintain a corresponding style, and to receive the proud guests with suitable magnificence, enormous “allowances” were made to the French generals; while in striking contrast to all the splendor, the Emperor Napoleon lived at Schönbrunn with a most simple household and restricted retinue. “Berthier’s” Palace, in the “Graben,” was, by its superior magnificence, the recognized centre of French society; and thither flocked every evening all that was most distinguished in rank of both nations. Motives of policy, or at least the terrible pressure of necessity, filled these salons with the highest personages of the empire; while as if accepting, as inevitable, the glorious ascendency of Napoleon, many of the French _emigré_ families emerged from their retirement to pay their court to the favored lieutenants of Napoleon. Marmont, who was highly connected with the French aristocracy, gave no slight aid to this movement; and it was currently believed at the time, was secretly intrusted by the Emperor with the task of accomplishing, what in modern phrase is styled a “fusion.” The real source of all these flattering attentions on the Austrian side, however, was the well-founded dread of the partition of the empire; a plan over which Napoleon was then hourly in deliberation, and to the non-accomplishment of which he ascribed, in the days of his last exile, all the calamities of his fall. Be this as it may, few thoughts of the graver interests at stake disturbed the pleasure we felt in the luxurious life of that delightful city; nor can I, through the whole of a long and varied career, call to mind any period of more unmixed enjoyment. Fortune stood by me in every thing. Marshal Marmont required as the head of his Etat-major an officer who could speak and write German, and if possible, who understood the Tyrol dialect. I was selected for the appointment; but then there arose a difficulty. The etiquette of the service demanded that the chef d’Etat-major should be at least a lieutenant-colonel, and I was but a captain. “No matter,” said he; “you are officier d’élite, which always gives brevet rank, and so one step more will place you where we want you. Come with me to Schönbrunn to-night and I’ll try to arrange it.”