spirit, could
well afford to will him. He lived here some months and then left
precipitately for Marseilles.

Napoleon affected a certain regard for this palatial property, though
only occupying it at odd moments. He embellished its surroundings, above
all its gardens, in a most lavish manner. Virtually, all things
considered, Compiegne is a _Palais Napoleonien_, and if one would study
the style of the Empire at its best the thing may be done at Compiegne.

On July 30, 1814, Louis XVIII and Alexander of Russia met at Compiegne
amid a throng of Paris notabilities who had come thither for the
occasion.

Charles X loved to hunt in the forest of Compiegne. In 1832, one of the
daughters of Louis-Philippe, the Princesse Louise, was married to the
King of the Belgians in this palace.

From 1852 to 1870 the palace and its grounds were the scenes of many
imperial fetes.

Napoleon III had for Compiegne a particular predilection. The
prince-president, in 1852, installed himself here for the autumn season,
and among his guests was that exquisite blond beauty, Eugenie Montijo,
who, the year after, was to become the empress of the French. Faithful
to the memory of his uncle, by reason of a romantic sentiment, the Third
Napoleon came frequently to Compiegne; or perhaps it was because of the
near-by hunt, for he was a passionate disciple of Saint Hubert. It was
his Versailles!

The palace of Compiegne as seen to-day presents all the classic coldness
of construction of the reign of Louis XV. Its lines were severe and that
the building was inspired by a genius is hard to believe, though in
general it is undeniably impressive. Frankly, it is a mocking, decadent
eighteenth century architecture that presents itself, but of such vast
proportions that one sets it down as something grand if not actually of
surpassing good taste.

In general the architecture of the palace presents at first glance a
coherent unit, though in reality it is of several epochs. Its
furnishings within are of different styles and periods, not all of them
of the best. Slender gold chairs, false reproductions of those of the
time of Louis XV, and some deplorable tapestries huddle close upon
elegant "_bergeres_" of Louis XVI, and sofas, tables and bronzes of
master artists and craftsmen are mingled with cheap castings unworthy of
a stage setting in a music hall. A process of adroit eviction will some
day be necessary to bring these furnishings up to a consistent