“The day of the ceremony was fixed for the fifteenth of August, the Festival of the Virgin Mary and of the Emperor Napoleon.
“The municipality had decided to lend an air of exceptional splendour to this solemn ceremonial, and had placed the platform on the Couronneaux, a charming continuation of the ramparts of the old fortress, to which I will shortly take you.
“By a natural reversal of public opinion, Isidore’s virtue, till then a matter for ridicule, became suddenly a matter for envy, since it was going to bring him five hundred francs, besides a little savings-book, together with unlimited esteem and glory to spare. The girls now regretted their frivolous folly, their smirks, their immodest behaviour; and Isidore, quite as modest and timorous as ever, had taken on a faint complacent air that spoke his inward satisfaction.
“With the arrival of the fifteenth of August, the whole of the Rue Dauphine was draped with flags. Ah, I’ve forgotten to tell you after what event this roadway had been called Rue Dauphine.
“It would appear that the Dauphine, I don’t know now which one, when visiting Gisors, had been kept on exhibition so long by the authorities that, in the middle of a triumphal procession through the town, she stopped the procession before one of the houses in this street and exclaimed:
“ ‘Oh, what a beautiful house, how I would like to visit it! Whose is it?’
“They told her the owner’s name; he was sought out, found and brought, embarrassed but covered with glory, before the princess.
“She stepped down from her carriage, entered the house, pretended to look over it from top to bottom, and even remained shut up for some moments alone in one of the rooms.
“When she came out again, the people, flattered by the honour shown to a citizen of Gisors, shouted out:
“ ‘Long live the Dauphine.’
“But a little song was made up by some wag, and the street took the name of her Royal Highness, because:
La princesse très pressée,
Sans cloche, prêtre ou bedeau,
L’avait, avec un peu d’eau,
Baptisée.28
“But let me return to Isidore.
“Flowers had been strewn all along the route of the procession, just as is customary at the procession of the Holy Sacrament, and the National Guard was called out, under the orders of its Chief, Commandant Desbarres, a stout old warrior of the Grande Armée, who proudly displayed, beside a frame holding the Cross of Honour bestowed by the Emperor himself, a Cossack’s beard, cut at a single sabre-stroke from its owner’s chin by the Commandant, during the retreat from Russia.
“The corps that he commanded was, in addition, a corps of picked men famous throughout the province, and his company of grenadiers from Gisors was in demand at all the important festivals within a radius of fifteen or twenty leagues. The story is told that King Louis-Philippe, when reviewing the troops from Eure, stopped in wonder before the company from Gisors and cried out:
“ ‘Oh, who are these fine grenadiers?’
“ ‘Men from Gisors,’ replied the General.
“ ‘I might have known it,’ murmured the King.
“The Commandant Desbarres set out with his men, headed by the band, to seek out Isidore in his mother’s shop.
“After a brief tune had been played beneath his windows, the May King himself appeared upon the threshold.
“He was clad from head to foot in white ducks and wore a straw hat, which bore, like a cockade, a small bunch of orange blossom.
“This question of dress had given Madame Husson much anxiety. She hesitated for a long time between the black garment worn by those taking their first Communion and the full vesture of white. But Françoise, her adviser, decided her in favour of the full white by showing her that the May King would have the appearance of a swan.
“Behind him appeared his protectress, his godmother, the triumphant Madame Husson. She took his arm, ready for the start, and the Mayor took up his position on the other side of the May King. The drums began to beat. Commandant Desbarres gave the command:
“ ‘Present arms!’
“The procession set off on its march towards the church, in the midst of a great crowd of people assembled from all the neighbouring villages. After a short Mass and a touching address from the Abbé Malou, the procession headed for the Couronneaux where the feast was set out in readiness under a tent.
“Before sitting down at table, the Mayor made a speech. Here are his exact words. I learnt them off by heart, for it was a fine speech:
“ ‘Young man, a lady of wealth, beloved by the poor and respected by the rich, Madame Husson, to whom I here render thanks on behalf of the whole country, conceived the idea, the happy and kindly idea, of establishing in the town a prize for virtue which should be a worthy inducement to the inhabitants of this beautiful countryside.
“ ‘You are, young man, the first to be chosen, the first to be crowned in this royal line of wisdom and chastity. Your name will always stand at the head of this roll of the most worthy; and it is demanded of you that your life—make no mistake about it—that your whole life should be in harmony with this happy beginning. Today, in the presence of this noble woman who rewards your conduct, in the presence of these citizen-soldiers who have taken up their arms in your honour, in the presence of this deeply moved throng, gathered together to acclaim you, or rather to acclaim Virtue in your person, you are entering into a solemn covenant with the town, with us all, to preserve until the day of your death the magnificent promise of your youth.
“ ‘Always bear this in mind, young man. You are the first seed sown in the field of hope, and we look to you to bring forth those fruits expected of you.’
“The Mayor took three steps, opened his arms and clasped the sobbing Isidore to his heart.
“He sobbed, the May King, without knowing why, with mixed
