Isidore when he was told blushed deeply and appeared very happy. The coronation date was fixed for 15 August, the Feast of the Virgin Mary, dedicated also to the Emperor Napoleon. The municipality decided to make a big splash on this occasion and accordingly a platform was built on what became known as the Coronation Gardens, a lovely extension of the old fortress’s ramparts which I’ll show you in a minute.

In a natural reversal of public opinion Isidore’s virtue, hitherto ridiculed and mocked in some circles, became overnight universally acknowledged as enviable and respectable, especially now that it was carrying off a prize of 500 francs as well as a savings book. Not to mention all the honour and glory. The girls were sorry they had been so coarse and vulgar. A little smile of satisfaction now played on Isidore’s lips, reflecting his inner happiness.

On the eve of 15 August the entire rue Dauphine was decked with flags and bunting … Oh! I forgot to tell you why this street is called the rue Dauphine. Apparently the Dauphine, I’m not sure which one, was visiting Gisors one day. She had been kept in the public eye for so long accepting all the formal presentations and formalities that suddenly, in the middle of the procession through the town, she stopped in front of one of the houses on this street and cried: “Oh what a lovely house! How I should love to visit it! Pray who is the owner?” The owner was named and found and, covered in glory and confusion, brought before the princess. She got out of her carriage, entered the house, declared her intention to inspect its every nook and cranny and even asked to be left closeted in one of the upstairs rooms by herself for a few minutes. When she re-emerged, the people, flattered by the honour shown to a citizen of Gisors, yelled, “Vive la Dauphine!” However, a local wag composed a little ditty and the street was renamed after her royal highness’s title. It went:

With no holy water
The king’s lovely daughter
Baptized it alone
With some of her own.